Ulric smiled, watching his sister as she went on and on. Ryia was truly happy and nothing could convince him otherwise. If anything, it made him realize just how much time he had missed with her and how much time he needed to make up for. Perhaps it was not too late to rekindle the amity and trust they had once shared as children. Over the past years, he hadn’t been much of a brother to her. He’d surely like to try again.
Seventeen
“Keep an eye on her till I return. I hope to be back early tonight.”
Gilgallon handed over the reigns of Ulric’s stallion and nodded. “Are you certain you would not like me to accompany you, milord?”
“Quite certain, Gilgallon. I intend on being discreet about this matter.” Ulric’s grip tightened on the reigns and he nudged Gray gently in the flanks. “Do not let her out of your sight.”
Swallowing, Gilgallon nodded and watched Lord St. Rosso ride off down the drive and through the heavy gates. He then sent a silent prayer, hoping for a painless day. Rubbing a hand down the area of his thigh nearest to his groin, Gilgallon then turned on his heels and headed for the house. On his stroll up towards the front steps, he caught the sight of a dashing figure moving in the direction of the east stable. Clucking his tongue between his teeth, he turned and pursued.
Rounding the path which lead into the gardens, he stomped pass a few patches of blue and purple morning glories which had started to climb along the high banisters, and proceeded to the large stable house. Inside he found the girl, Miss Rolfen he’d known her truly as, petting the chestnut mare His Lordship and recently placed there. The stable’s reparation had been succeeded far earlier than they had been expecting and the rest of the broodmares had not been able to be moved as yet.
“What are you doing, Miss?”
The girl spun suddenly as if he had startled her, a sugar cube falling to the hay from her hand. “Gilgallon.”
“Yes,” he responded, moving closer. “Me. What are you about now?”
“I came to see her,” Audelia said, her gaze steady and defiant. Behind the closed stall, the mare snorted, perhaps unhappy that her treat had been interrupted. “I’m sure His Lordship would not mind. Even a mare deserves a little company sometimes.”
Eyeing her carefully, Gilgallon bent to retrieve the sugar cube. “And that’s all you wish to do?”
“As long as you refrain from passing more untruthful accusations.”
A muscle in Gilgallon’s right cheek ticked and he handed over the sugar cube. “I would not dream of it. But His Lordship does have one condition and I intend on carrying out my duty.”
She held up the sugary treat to the mare, who readily nibbled it away, keeping her gaze on the guard. “Yes?”
“You are not to leave my sight. Where you go, I go.” He cleared his throat. “Save for when you are in Her Ladyship’s private quarters, that is.”
She turned from him and ran a hand across the mare’s jaw. “Fine by me. Is there anything else?”
“No.” Gilgallon took a few steps backwards to lean against the wall near the door. “Carry on then.”
Gilgallon kept his attention trained on the girl as she petted and whispered to the mare. He knew that His Lordship had gotten quite fond of the wench in the past week and he could tell why. Miss Rolfen had an unconventionally fiery spirit, complemented by a fair countenance and a strangely attractive presence. Gilgallon just hoped that His Lordship knew exactly what he was getting himself into at the expense of a girl he hardly knew anything about.
* * *
It was near noon when Ulric arrived in the village of Thornea. It seemed to have rained a bit throughout the morning, judging by the still draining rooftops and puddled streets. However, the marketplace was still rather congested and frenzied, serfs and merchants eagerly brandishing their produce at passersby and potential customers.
Lowering the brim of his hat over his eyes, Ulric guided Gray past the yelling farmers and traders and towards the nearest inn he could spot out. It was the inn that he’d stayed on his previous visit to the village. The very same inn where he had met Audelia’s...acquaintance.
Dismounting his stallion, Ulric entrusted the reigns to a stable boy who had readily made himself present, and then bounded through the large double doors. Inside, the innkeeper met him before he had even fully removed his hat.
“Lord Chastelle, is it not?” The stout balding man greeted, flashing a toothy smile. “I didna expect you back so soon, at all. Are you staying long?”
“No. But I shall need a word with you promptly.” Ulric passed his gaze over the front hall, content that it was not overly busy. “Shall we?”
“Of-of course, sir. Hester Foreman, at your service. Right through here.”
Ulric followed the man through the small hall and then down a corridor which lead them to what he presumed, was the innkeeper’s office. It was a small space, a bit untidy and had a rather distinct scent of laudanum and cigar smoke. A fairly repulsive scent, altogether.
The innkeeper quickly cleared a few scattered sheets of paper from his desk and chuckled anxiously. “Forgive me for the odor, milord. There was a bit of a situation here last eve involving a couple drunkards. Nothing that couldn’t be controlled though.”
“I’m here to inquire about a young woman,” Ulric said, glancing about the room. “I’m hoping you can somewhat assist me.”
“Of course. Although I-I must say, Your Lordship, that ladies of your.... renowned circles rarely take lodging here. My guests are mostly gentlemen, Sir.”
“I am aware of that. I cannot truly declare that the woman is a serf or not but either way, I request your honest look into my query.” Ulric reached into the inside pocket of his coat and withdrew a few golden coins. “And for your aid, of course.”
The innkeeper’s eyes bulged at the jingling currencies and smiled, pulling up a chair for Ulric. “What do you need, milord?”
Obliging, Ulric took his seat and sighed. God help him that someone knew something about her.
“She’s about this height,” he said, tilting his hand at his shoulder. “Long hair, the color of midnight and eyes, the exact shade of...walnuts. She has a small pointed nose and quite a slender figure as well. Have you ever seen her?”
The innkeeper looked downright baffled, scratching the side of his forehead. “I-I don’t know...”
Ulric rolled his eyes and blew out a breath. Perhaps he should have asked elsewhere. Easing out of the chair, he shook his head sorrily and sighed.
On second thought... “You might have seen her wearing men’s clothing. Breeches and men’s smocks, perhaps.”
“Well...” The man ran a beefy hand over his rounded belly, frowning in thought. “I may have seen someone to that description, Sir, but I seriously doubt--”
“Out with it, man!” Ulric forced himself not to march across the room and give the bloke a good shake. Hope was already swirling in his gut and he had no intention of dismissing it so easily.
“I believe I’ve seen a girl like that before, milord. Though, I can’t be certain of the color of her hair or her eyes. But I do recall some time ago, possibly a few weeks, when I’d chased her out for taking bread from my kitchens. I thought she moved a bit fast for a wench too.”
Nodding, Ulric scratched his brow, convinced they were now speaking of the same person. “Anything else?”
The innkeeper shrugged. “Nope. But I do know she’d managed to make off with my favorite dagger. I still can’t see how she’d swiped it from my waist though.”
Ulric could take a wild guess. Audelia was that skilled of a thief. He’d been fortunate to be one of her subjects on one occasion.
“Are you sure there’s nothing else you know about her?” Audelia had mentioned she was from Camden and Ulric hoped she had been truthful about that. “Has anyone from Camden ever come around asking for her?”
“Not at all. Not that I know of.” The innkeeper rocked on his heels slowly, eyeing Ulric’s hand that held the coins.
“Is she a wanted criminal, Sir? Are you bent on catching her for some other crime because I’d very much like to see my dagger again,” the man continued but when he met Ulric’s steely glare, he chuckled nervously. “Or not.”
“If you have nothing else to tell me then I believe we are done here.” Tossing the coins onto the messy table, Ulric nodded and turned to leave. “Thank you for your time.”
“No, thank you, Sir.” The bloke chuckled like a buffoon as he scooped up the coins and shove them down deep into his pockets. “Uh...milord?”
“Speak.”
“Perhaps you should pay Lorena a visit. She’s the owner of the brothel across the street. I doubt there’s any wench around here who hasn’t crossed paths with her a time or two.”
Ulric sighed, nodded his thanks and then strode from the building. As he made his way across the street, he prayed that the bawd had some helpful information to share or else he’d be forced to make a rather tedious trip to Camden. Whatever the case, Ulric was determined to get some answers.
Lorena happened to be a voluptuous redhead, possibly a few years older than Ulric was, but still beautiful and a rather accomplished flirt. Well, that was expected from a woman who managed a bawdyhouse. And even though it had been quite a long time since Ulric had wandered into such establishments, he still remembered the process of things.
Upon entering, he had requested the Madam’s presence, tipped one of the girls generously, and even accepted her arm as she’d escorted him to a private parlor, her feminine curves deliberately rubbing up against him. It was a grandly decorated space, expensive furnishings and lots and lots of red silk draperies. Thank heavens, the wait had not been long and before he knew it, Lorena had come sweeping inside the room, barely dressed in a thin red night wrap.
“Well, I can hardly believe it,” she cooed, moving in seductively practiced strides across the room. “Lord Chastelle in the flesh. Please do take a seat. Would you like a drink, Sir?”
“No. Actually, I do not mean to tarry.” But he did take a seat anyway. “I was told you might be able to assist me with some information about someone.”
Huffing, the woman moved up to a small table and poured herself a drink. “Hester sent you, didn’t he? From the inn across the street? The blasted fool. I swear, if he sends another soul over here, I shall be convinced to close up and try out the information business instead.” She sipped on her drink and winked. “But I’m willing to have a chat with you, milord. I have one question, though.”
“Go ahead.” Ulric watched as the woman sashayed across the room, undoing the ties of her wrap and offering him a very generous few of a bountiful pair of supple breasts. Ulric could even make out the dark areolas of her mounds. Perhaps if he was interested, he’d be a bit enthused.
“What’s in it for me, Your Lordship?” Lorena took a seat directly opposite him, tucking her long naked legs beneath her. “I might teach you a thing or two.”
Ulric met her eyes steadily. “Take no offense, Madam. But I am not here to purchase favors.”
Lorena chuckled. “Who said I was selling? I’d be more than willing to dally a little with the Lord of Chastelle at no cost at all.”
His patience almost snapped but he maintained his cool. “A dark-haired woman who wears breeches. Have you seen her?”
Lorena teased the brim of her glass with one fingertip, her expression cool and coquettish. She then rose from her seat and walked over to a draped window. “Mayhap.”
“Mayhap?” Ulric stormed out his seat, his heart pounding just now. “Do you know her or not?”
“Well, milord,” she continued, her back still turned to him. “There are not many wenches that I’ve seen around here who wears breeches.” She chuckled and turned. “I possible first ran into her months ago but the little wretch has managed to keep quiet after that. I’d even offered her a place here...to start something for herself. Her face certainly bore some potential. My men tend to like the...innocent look, I’ve realized.”
“I’ll pay generously for whatever else you know,” Ulric breathed through clenched teeth, grabbing the woman by the arms. If only he could shake the words out of her. It was obvious that she knew something else and was deliberately being coy. He hadn’t the patience for coy. “Now, tell me.”
“You’re rather quick with your hands, milord,” she muttered, lashes fluttering smoothly. Ulric dropped his arms and folded them, keeping her cornered. He was not leaving until she spoke every damn thing she knew, and he was in no mood either to stand there, hat in hand, to a blasted bawd. “Oh fine, then. What is wrong with some of you gents, anyway? Can’t you be satisfied with us? We’re not all that expensive, you know?”
Perplexed, Ulric stared her down. “Out with it.”
Lorena breathed out a sigh and stood akimbo. “Well, you’re not the first gent to come around here asking about the wench. Audelia, he’d said her name was. Or something like that. Came in just two weeks ago with some big-haired lady too.”
Eighteen
Audelia slowly arranged the two sets of chess pieces on the board, eyeing the burly guard carefully. It was long past dawn, and even dinnertime had been spent some few hours ago. Even Lady Ryia had already retired to bed, resting up for her departure on the morrow. Ulric was yet to return and even though he’d assured her that he would not have spent more than a day away, a worrisome twinge still pulsed deep inside her gut. Perhaps, it was all in her head. Perhaps, she was just being silly. But she had developed a great fondness for him over the days and whether she wished to believe it or not, the feeling was very real. He was very real. Audelia knew that a reciprocated affection was much to wish for but she’d rather dream than batter herself with the pains of the present. Somewhere in her heart, she hoped Ulric cared for her as much as she had grown to care for him.
“Have you ever played chess before?” she asked.
Gilgallon frowned and fidgeted in his seat. “No.”
Scowling, Audelia sat up straight at the table they were sharing inside the library. A brightly burning lantern sat next to them. “Then why’d you propose the game?”
“Because I don’t want you wandering off. It’s blasted nighttime and I haven’t the patience to play hide-and-go-seek with you. Now tell me how it’s played already.”
“It’s not a just a simple game. It requires skill and strategy and--”
“Are you calling me daft, miss?”
Audelia pursed her lips and continued arranging the final four pieces. “If you insist then.”
“How do you know how to play?” Gilgallon questioned, watching her fingers as they moved across the black and white squares. “Only aristocrats are allowed this type of sport.”
Audelia met his eyes briefly, swallowed down the gulp in her throat, but managed her cool composure. Blasted man. “I saw the gents play all the time,” she finally said, even though she’d played the game a handful of times with...Lord Dextrem. Madame de Lucci had taught her, had required it of her. “Then I stole a board almost as grand as this one. I traded it in for a few coins later on.”
Gilgallon huffed lightly. “You’re a proud thief, aren’t you?”
Audelia smiled. “We all have to accept ourselves for what we are, even if it appears disagreeable in the eyes of others.”
“Tell me the rules.”
Moving her index finger from left to right, Audelia explained as clearly as she could. “This fellow here is your rook...knight, bishop, king and then your queen. Then you have another bishop, another knight and another rook.” She glanced at him to see if she was truly paying attention. Satisfied that he was , she continued. “ On this row before them, are your pawns. They have the lowest value and are like your...soldiers.”
Gilgallon nodded. “What’s next?”
“As you can see, each set of pieces are a different color. And--”
The door to the library came shoving in and Gilgallon jumped to his feet, distancing himself from the table.
“Your Lords
hip.”
In came Ulric, looking positively exhausted. His hair, the portion of it that had managed to break free from the tie at his nape, was spiking out all around his head. Audelia thought either he had been ambushed or had taken quite a tumble from his horse.
“Thank you, Gilgallon,” he muttered, breathing ferociously. “I would like to speak with Miss Rolfen alone now, please.”
Miss Rolfen. Audelia cringed at his informal words, glancing away nervously as Gilgallon left the room. As soon as she heard the door slid to a close, she met his gaze.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, her mind sending off all sorts of warning signals.
Ulric paced the room a bit, considering his options. But when he really thought about it, he had no options. “I need to have a word with you, Audelia. Right now and you’d better be honest with me.”
“But I haven’t--”
“For god’s sake, do not lie to me!” Ulric grasped her by the arm and pulled her across the room towards the sofa chairs. He hadn’t meant to explode like that but Ulric had been riding none stop since he’d spoken with Madam Lorena. He needed to know what the truth was from what it wasn’t. He seated Audelia next to him and ran a hand through his hair. “What is your connection to Lord Dextrem?”
“I--I..” Oh lord, she was truly cornered. Audelia swallowed tightly, wringing her hands in her lap. “I knew him. I mean...I know him.”
“Know him how?”
Audelia eased shakily to her feet but Ulric grabbed her wrist, prepared to re-seat her.
“Let me go!” she cried, yanking her hand away. “Don’t you dare manhandle me.”
When she turned to face him, her eyes were filled with tears, tears that Ulric did not know how to handle. Sighing, he ran a palm over his face and cleared his throat. “My apologies. It was not my intention to yell.”
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