“I love you, too,” she said, and it was a litany, a promise.
Their lips met again, and they kissed slowly and deliberately for some time. Eventually, he pulled away and rested his forehead against her shoulder.
“I suppose you would like me to move,” he said. “I know you have quite a lot of things to see to today. I’m in your way, I imagine.”
“You are,” she said. “And I do have a lot of things to see to. I have a street empire to build after all. But don’t move.”
“No?”
“Not just yet.”
* * *
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* * *
“I’m looking for the Lord of the Dead,” said Sefoni Rience to the man who was standing inside the door of the Sticx Gentleman’s Club. The man wasn’t precisely blocking her way into the establishment, but he did look stern and disapproving.
Sefoni supposed it wasn’t proper for a woman of her standing and reputation to visit a place like this, but it was the middle of the afternoon in the middle of the week, and she honestly didn’t think anyone was going to be there at all.
The place did look rather empty. Most of the round tables were surrounded by empty chairs, their seats upholstered in plush red velvet, and there was no one at the evens and odds wheel in the corner. There was a vast expanse of crimson carpet, also empty.
There were a few people standing by one of the tables. One was a musqueteer, and he had drawn his pistol, which was rather irregular, considering that musqueteers did not draw on unarmed men as a matter of course. But this musqueteer was pointing his weapon, and another tidily dressed gentleman was looking on. Both of them were staring over the barrel of the pistol at a third man.
The man raised his hand, a careless gesture. “She means me.” He seemed amused, not the least bit worried about being shot. He was tall, with broad shoulders and deep umber skin. His well-groomed dark facial hair encircled his lips. “I swear,” he continued, “you rob one king’s tomb for jewels and you’re ‘Lord of the Dead’ for the rest of your life.”
“Shut up,” said one of the tidily dressed gentlemen.
“Well,” said the Lord of the Dead, “I have a visitor. You can see that this attempt to shoot me is coming at a very inconvenient time, can’t you? We’ll have to reschedule.” He made to go around the table and come toward Sefoni.
But the musqueeter intercepted him, pressing the barrel of the pistol into his neck.
The Lord of the Dead coughed. “You wouldn’t shoot me in front of the laidy, would you? Have you no sense of decorum?”
“She walked into The Sticx. She should know better,” said the tidily dressed gentleman.
The Lord of the Dead gave Sefoni a shrug. “My apologies, Laidy Sefoni.”
He knew her name? Sefoni swallowed. She had never been formally introduced to the Lord of the Dead, who had a name of course. Haid Vortinen, the Deux of Darain.
Darain sighed heavily. He turned back to the tidily dressed gentleman. “All right, well, is there some way I could convince you not to kill me? Certainly whatever it is I’ve done to anger you… whatever your name is—”
“It’s Maister Black,” said the tidily dressed gentleman huffily. “Of the Black Silk Import business.”
“Ah,” said Darain, smiling. “We did meet once, didn’t we, at a ball?”
“Yes, where you also met my wife,” Black said in a stony voice.
Darain cleared his throat, looking down at the table. “Yes. Yes, I did. So, that’s what this is about.”
“You sullied her honor and I want to shoot you down like the dog you are.”
“Of course you do.” Darain scratched his chin, now less amused and more chagrined. “Unfortunately, I can’t agree to that.”
“It’s not about your agreement, you bastard, it’s about—”
“Is there a reason you’re not challenging me to a duel?” said Darain. He caught Sefoni’s eye. “Apologies again. This is mortifying for me, I assure you.”
“Don’t talk to her,” said Black.
Darain turned back to him. “I suppose it’s because then everyone would demand to know what your grievance was with me, and you’d have to say that I cuckolded you, and that would be mortifying for you.”
Black’s jaw twitched.
Darain turned to the musqueteer. “How much is he paying you for this? I could triple it.”
“Don’t speak to anyone!” thundered Black. “I have a gun on you. Don’t you understand? Your life is on the line.”
“Mmm,” said Darain, scratching his chin again. He lifted a finger. “I’ve got an idea. You could hit me.”
Black glared at him. “You can’t be serious.”
“Well, you were going to have your musqueteer shoot me, so you wouldn’t have been carrying out your revenge personally, anyway. This way, it’s visceral. Fist on bone. It’ll feel good.” He gestured to his face. “Go ahead. I won’t hit back.”
Black’s nostrils flared.
“No?” said Darain. “It’s a good offer. I would take it if I were you. I’ll admit that it’s shameful to cuckold other men and dishonorable and… beneath me. No pun intended.”
“Shoot him,” said Black in a low, lethal voice.
“Don’t,” said Darain to the musqueteer. “I’ll quadruple it, and I’ll let you have free drinks on the house all night and I’ll give you a set of chips for the card games—no gold necessary to buy in.”
The musqueteer lowered his gun. “Done.”
“What are you doing?” said Black, throwing up his hands in disgust.
“That’s a good deal,” said the musqueteer. “What do you want from me?”
“No hard feelings, of course, Maister Black,” said Haid, reaching out to lay a hand on Black’s shoulder. “You stay and have a cup of ale on the house before you leave.” He nodded to the bartender. “See that you get the musqueteer what I promised him?”
“Of course, Your Grace,” said the bartender.
Darain patted Black on the chest and he moved past him, coming toward Sefoni.
“Terribly sorry about that,” said Darain, smiling at her.
Oh, dear, he was handsome, wasn’t he? She had noticed that before, but he was a bit more affecting so close up. Of course, he was wretched. He was a womanizing, thieving scoundrel. He might be a deux, but all his lands and wealth had been lost. His late father had gambled it all away in a card game. Immediately upon losing, his father had gone mad and killed his wife and all his children.
Somehow, Darain had survived with the help of his elder brother Zeir, who’d struck a killing blow to their father before succumbing to his own wounds. No one else besides Darain had lived, however.
Every bit of wealth that Darain had now, he’d amassed through underhanded means. But that was precisely why Sefoni needed him.
“I am utterly delighted that you’re here,” said Darain. “Why, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I saw you gathering flowers with that shanj game.” He meant at court, when she’d beaten the king with a technique called the Lily Maneuver. Sefoni had read it in a book. She very much liked playing shanj, and she was passably good at it as well. Everyone in court had been watching when she played the king and everyone had been astonished when she beat him. “You are magnificent, has anyone ever told you that?”
Sefoni felt heat rush to her face.
“If you think a cup of ale makes us even, you’re sorely mistaken,” called Black from behind him.
Darain glanced over his shoulder at the man a
nd then ushered Sefoni out of the room, his hand on the small of her back, urging her to walk quickly. “Maister Black will calm down with time and decide this was all an ill-advised idea. I assure you, I’m in no true danger.”
She wasn’t sure why he thought that she cared about his personal safety or why he thought it was okay to put his hand on her. Out of sorts, she didn’t get herself extricated from his touch until they had passed into a hallway off the main gambling room.
If Darain noticed he had made her uncomfortable, he didn’t let on. He simply opened the door to a room with a large paper-covered desk and a bookshelf straining with messily shelved ledgers. “Step into my office, my laidy. If I believed in the blaze, I would say it was its power that guided you to me today. I am stunned you are here, that you walked right into my gambling house. How fortunate for us both.” He shut the door behind him.
She winced. Well, she was now in a closed room alone with a man. This was quite improper. She bit down on her bottom lip.
He went over and moved a stack of papers off of a shabby chair. He deposited them on top of more papers on his desk. “Have a seat.”
“I’m quite comfortable standing,” she said.
“Are you certain?” He stepped behind his desk and sat down himself, leaning back in his chair and regarding her with an insouciant smile. “Tell me, what brings you here today?”
“I need your help.”
“Truly?” He grinned, pleased at the prospect. “That is marvelous, because I would like your help, and this means we are likely going to be in a position to help each other. This couldn’t be going better if I had planned it. What do you need?”
“Well, I… I would like to hire you.” She twisted her hands together. “It’s a job. You, um…” She lowered her voice. “You steal things, don’t you?”
“You wish me to steal something for you?”
“Well, to return it to its rightful owner, truly,” she said. “The queen, you see, she has been badly tricked by the Deux of Madigain, and it is not her fault.”
“Yes, well, that sounds like Madigain.” Darain made a face as if something smelled bad. “If it involves causing Madigain any discomfort whatsoever, you can count me in. Let’s discuss what you’ll give me in return.”
“You don’t even know what I want you to steal,” she said. “And of course I will give you money in return.”
He snorted. “No. I won’t do it for money. I want your skill. I have never seen a woman who could play shanj like you. Think of it, you and I, traveling throughout the realm to various shanj tournaments. Just in bets alone, we could make a fortune. Everyone would underestimate you.”
“I can’t travel with a man like you.”
“Why not?”
“It would be the height of impropriety!” Her voice had gotten a bit shrill. “Besides, I cannot be associated with… someone like…” She cringed. Perhaps she shouldn’t insult him when she was asking for his help. “And in any case, I am unmarried, and an unmarried woman cannot be alone with a man, let alone gallivant across the realm.”
“Mmm.” He nodded. “Yes, I’d thought of this. You’d probably have to marry me.”
She gaped at him. She was so startled that she could not even speak.
He eyed her. “Well, I’m going to try very hard not to be offended by that reaction. I assure you there are a great many women who would be happy enough with an offer from me. And you, if I am not mistaken, are only the daughter of a merchant, so the elevation to deucess should please you. I do remember people at court caring about such things.”
“You are insane,” she said.
He considered. “Perhaps. Sometimes. I suppose I’ve been overeager and I’ve frightened you. Let’s go back. What am I stealing?”
“The queen has a bracelet,” said Sefoni. “It is not very valuable. It is important to her mostly for sentimental reasons. It came with her ancestor on the ship that went off course and brought the Kandjan people to Briganne.” All the dark-skinned peoples of the realm were descended from these wealthy explorers. “She keeps it hidden in her private chambers, and the king is well aware of this. I know it is improper for her to have taken a lover at all, but… well, it is what it is. She and I are cousins, you know, and we grew up like sisters. I care for her. I only wish her happiness. Her association with Madigain did make her happy for a time. That is, until he stole this bracelet from her.”
“And now, he threatens her with revealing her infidelity to the king,” said Darain.
“You understand, then,” said Sefoni. “If you could get it back, it would solve everything.”
“I’ll get it back,” said Darain. “We’ll do it together, after you marry me.”
“I cannot marry you, sir.”
“Well, those are my terms,” he said.
“Certainly, there is something else that could satisfy you. I have access to the queen’s wealth. She is not precisely aware that I am here, but I can pay you, sir.”
“I have named my price,” said Darain, and he looked her over.
She could feel his dark eyes on her, traveling over her body. She shivered. She tugged at the collar of her dress, trying to cover more of her skin, not that her dresses ever did cover her, at least not enough of her, since her bosom was annoyingly bounteous. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?” His voice had dropped several pitches to something very deep.
“Stop looking at me.”
“Would you like me to close my eyes?”
“I’m leaving,” she said. “This was… I don’t know what I was thinking. I should not even be here.”
“You should not,” he agreed. “Stepping foot unchaperoned into this place is enough to ruin your reputation and likely get you expelled from court. Of course, once you marry me, none of that will matter.”
“If you tell anyone I was here, I will deny it.” She said, heat rising to her face again, this time in anger. “And considering our varied reputations, I am sure I will be believed.”
He shrugged. “Perhaps. I suppose if I’m really intent on having you as my wife, I’ll have to try something else.”
“I will never marry you,” she snapped. She stalked to the door and thrust it open. “Good day, sir.”
“I’m a deux,” he called as she left the room. “Isn’t it proper to address me as Your Grace?”
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The Beast of the Barrens Page 20
