by Karen Chance
And there were no commoners here, no jaspers or moss agate, no chalcedony or onyx. No, spread out before me was the royal court of jewels, diamond and ruby, emerald and sapphire. And pearls, ropes and ropes of precious, precious pearls. I picked up a strand of black ones, my breath catching in awe. They were the size of large grapes and almost the same color, a dark, rich plum that shone with an iridescent luster.
The most sought after of gems, pearls were prized by every lady from the queen to the fishmonger’s wife, to the point that laws had had to be passed limiting their wearing to the upper classes lest the supply run out. One rope of these would solve my need for coin for many a year to come. Two might well do so permanently.
I looked up, smiling brilliantly, and he laughed. “I am glad to see that something I have pleases you.”
I blinked in surprise. I had actually been thinking that this might be one of the more pleasant challenges I’d had in a while. But before I could frame a response, he stepped out of the wet breeches and into the bath, giving me a brief view of the lamplight playing over smooth skin and hard male strength. And the words dried up in my throat.
“This lot was confiscated from a house in Portsmouth a fortnight ago,” he told me, soaping up. “Three men and a woman are suspected of plotting against the queen. Two of the men were killed in the raid, and the Circle picked up the woman, Lady Isabel Tapley, yesterday. I was at the jail to question her.”
“And did you?” I asked, a little hoarsely.
“It is difficult to question a corpse, which is what she was after ingesting some kind of poison,” he said dryly. “And we have yet to locate the third man, leaving us with little to go on, other than what they left behind.”
I glanced from him to the jewels, torn between two very attractive options. Greed won. “I take it she was fond of jewelry,” I said, idly picking up a ring set with a large rectangular emerald.
His lips twisted. “I know the contents of that chest by rote. If anything goes missing, I will have to search you for it.”
“I’ll try to put it somewhere interesting,” I murmured, examining the stone. It was cut in the new hog back manner, with a flat top and beveled sides. I’d only seen a few done in that fashion, which increased the jewel’s natural fire. But in this case, it wasn’t the cut that interested me.
“The coffer didn’t belong to the witch,” he said, scrubbing his hair. “We found it in the house owned by the two men. As neither was wealthy, nor part of the local guild, it made us think that the jewels might be important.”
“Who is ‘we,’ Master—” I stopped, realizing that I’d forgotten his name. “You said you work for the queen,” I finished awkwardly.
“I said that I work on her behalf,” he corrected, before ducking under the water. He came back up, dark hair curling around his face and water dripping off his lashes, and grinned at me through the wet strands. “I am Kit Marlowe, by the way, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“I hadn’t,” I lied. The name didn’t suit him, but then again, I wasn’t sure what would. Most men I could size up in a matter of moments, but this one was an odd combination of wit and deadly danger, and it was throwing me. The monsters weren’t supposed to have a sense of humor.
They weren’t supposed to kiss that well, either, but I pushed that thought away.
“You never explained why a vampire should care who is queen in England, Master Marlowe.”
He settled comfortably back against the tub, arms spread along either side, wine glass dangling from one pale hand. “We have a government as well; it is called the Senate.”
“I know that.”
“Then perhaps you also know that their only real rivals for power are the mages. As long as the magical community remains as it is, divided and quarrelling among itself, they are no real threat. Allowing any one group to gain supremacy, on the other hand—”
“Might lead to more competition,” I finished for him.
“Yes. At the moment, the haven provided in this country for the Silver Circle has allowed it to rebuild its strength. Should that haven be removed, it might well be overcome and the mages united under the Black. The Senate has every reason to wish the queen well.”
“Unlike the covens,” I said bitterly. “She has been a party to everything that was done to us. She let this happen—to her own people!”
“It is difficult these days to know who one’s enemies are,” he shrugged. “She was informed that many of the covens on the continent had joined the Black Circle, and some of their leaders work closely with the Spanish—”
“They aren’t dark,” I said tightly. “They’re trying to survive! After the Circles began their war, the covens on the continent were told the same thing we were—give up your traditions, your leaders, your power to protect your people, and bow to our rule. Or we’ll destroy you before you can ally with our enemies!”
“I heard that the covens didn’t make things any easier on themselves,” he said, sipping his wine. “That they refused any compromise.”
“Why should we compromise?” I demanded. “We are English, and have been these many centuries! They are nothing more than foreign refugees. They need to bow to our leaders’ authority, not the other way around!”
“It seems a middle ground must be found, if both are to survive.”
“We haven’t survived!” I hissed. “Or did your eyes fail you at the prison?”
“Yes, I saw.” For the first time, he looked serious. “And that is precisely why you must help me. If we can find out what this group is planning, if we can stop it, it may prove to the queen that—”
“She isn’t my queen,” I said, low and even.
“Very well. Help me for your own sake, then. I overheard what you said to that old villain at the tavern. I can get you the passage abroad you desire, as well as money, papers, whatever else you need. Assist me in this and I will see you and your daughter safely away from these shores.”
I crossed my arms, struggling to get my temper back under control, to remember the main concern here. “What do you want?”
“To start with, I was hoping you could tell me something about this lot,” he gestured at the jewels. “The Circle’s agents at court could only say that neither the coffer nor its contents were cursed.”
“And what makes you think I can do better?”
“As you demonstrated at the prison, the coven’s magic differs from the Circle’s.”
“Ours is based on that of the fey,” I said, going back to examining the jewel. “Or it once was. It’s a bit of an amalgamation of human and fey these days, which is one reason the Circle doesn’t trust it.”
“And I thought that was due to the fact that the covens are run exclusively by women.”
“They’re not,” I said, frowning at the ring. Its setting was loose, having been damaged on one side, and I didn’t like what it showed me. “That’s another of the Circle’s lies.”
“And yet I’ve never heard of one lead by a man.”
“It’s rare,” I admitted. “Our particular brand of magic is often stronger in women. But it does happen.”
“Do you sense anything amiss with that, then?”
“No.” I tossed the ring back on the pile with a grimace. “It’s harmless enough. They all are, for that matter.”
He picked it up, looking frustrated. Apparently, that hadn’t been the answer he’d wanted. “You’re sure?”
“If they were cursed, I’d have felt it before I ever touched them.”
He scowled and twisted the emerald around so that it caught the light. “My lady’s favorite,” he said sourly. “I suppose I could make her a gift.”
“Your lady?”
“She who made me vampire. She came from the desert, and says the color reminds her of growing things.”
“Well, I wouldn’t give her that one,” I said wryly. “Unless she’s fond of fakes.”
He looked up. “I beg your pardon?”
“It’s counterfeit
. A good one, I grant you, but—”
“How do you know?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a knife?”
“There’s one in my boot.”
I leaned back in the chair, giving in to temptation. “Can you get it for me?”
He looked surprised for a moment, and then his lips twitched. He slowly stood up, the lantern light shining on wet curls and water slick skin. He didn’t bother to dry off before climbing out of the bath and walking to the door, giving me a view of the flex and roll of sleek muscle. He bent over and retrieved the knife from his boot, then returned, standing in front of me with a dark smile.
“You enjoy living dangerously.”
I licked my lips. “Is there any other way, these days?”
The stone was already loose, and came out easily. I handed it to him and he leaned over to hold it closer to the lantern. “It looks genuine.”
“It is. But submerge it in your wine glass for an hour. You’ll find you don’t have one stone but two. They glued a thin upper layer of poor-quality emerald to a lower one of dark green glass. The glass makes the emerald look darker, and therefore more expensive, as well as making it appear to be a larger stone.”
“How can you tell?”
“Out of the setting, you can see the difference in color along the side,” I said, pointing out the thin line with a fingernail. “Where the layers come together.”
He picked up a beautiful carconet of sapphires and moved behind me, pushing my wet hair aside in order to drape them around my neck. “And this?”
“The stones are genuine,” I said, leaning back into the feel of those strong hands. “But of low quality. They’ve been backed by colored foil to make them appear to be more expensive, brilliant blue ones.”
“How did you know?” he asked, his hands smoothing over my bare shoulders.
“I’ve learned to check for such things. You’d be surprised how many times we relieved a fine lady or gentleman of their jewels only to discover when we went to sell them that they were paste. Or to have a buyer tell us they were paste, when they were the real thing.”
“No honor among thieves?”
“Not the thieves I know,” I said, thinking of Sol. “After a few such times, I found someone to teach me the difference.”
“Then these are all cheap imitations?” he asked, as those hands moved lower.
“Not cheap,” I corrected, my eyes sliding closed as the sheet slipped to my waist. “The cheap ones are quartz or rock crystal dipped in liquid glass, or glued to colored paste. And their settings are nothing more than tin covered with a thin layer of gold. These are real jewels, as are the settings.”
“But sapphires—even poor-quality ones—and gold are expensive. Why pay good coin for fakes?”
“Pride,” I said, my breath hitching as calloused thumbs began stroking back and forth over sensitive skin. “A lady might order copies of her jewels should the real ones have to be sold to pay debts. If the fakes are good enough, no one need ever know.”
“Except her heirs,” he said sardonically. “Who can’t then sell them themselves.”
“Or because the cost of the latest fashion is too high. To be in style at court these days, a lady must wear ropes of pearls as well as sprinkling them about her clothes. But there are few who can afford so many of the real thing. Many embroider fakes onto their doublets or gowns, in case they lose them, and keep the real ones safely locked in settings about their necks.”
“Making imitation stones is not illegal,” he said thoughtfully. “Yet these men were skulking about as if they had a cellar full of priests.”
I swallowed, caught between the warmth of his hands and the cool, cool feel of the jewels. “It isn’t illegal unless you pass off the fakes as real.”
“I am not interested in counterfeiters,” he told me, resting a chin on my shoulder. “Even good ones. I need to know if these pose a threat to her majesty.”
“Only to her purse, if she bought them.”
He sighed, his breath hot against my throat. “The meetings may have meant nothing; merely rogues running with rogues. But I must be sure. We’re going to have to do this the hard way.”
I blinked and twisted my neck around to look at him. “The hard way? And that would be?”
He smiled slowly. “The reason I need you.”
Chapter Three
T en minutes later, I was face down on the vampire’s bed, wondering how I managed to get talked into these things. “I’m beginning to think this is a bad idea,” I panted.
“It isn’t my fault,” he complained, with a move that had my breath catching. “It simply won’t fit.”
“You’re not really trying.”
“I assure you, I am.”
“Are you certain you’ve done this sort of thing before?”
“I do seem to recall,” he grunted, “a few occasions.”
“Well, were you paying attention?”
He did something that felt like it permanently rearranged my insides. “Was that better?” he asked sweetly.
“You’re learning,” I gasped, rolling over and snatching the dress off the end of the bed. “Now, let’s see if this miserable thing fits.”
Kit let go of my stays and stepped back. “I don’t know why noble women’s clothes are so demmed complicated,” he complained. “With peasant girls, it’s a shift and a kirtle and done.”
“And your experience with peasant girls is extensive, is it?”
He crossed his arms. “There’s no reason to be short with me, simply because the woman was a few inches—”
“She was not thinner than me,” I said, gritting my teeth as I adjusted the tight bodice enough that I could breathe. “You didn’t lace me correctly the first time.”
“My apologies. I thought this would go more smoothly if you did not pass out on the lintel.”
I glared at him, temper high, until I found myself stuck in the folds of the cursed woman’s farthingale. “She must have been built like a boy,” I complained, and he sighed and came over to rescue me.
“I admit to not paying close attention at the time. I was more concerned with not allowing her to murder me.”
He was talking about the witch who had been working with the counterfeiters. She’d been from one of the English covens which had apparently decided that, if their own country didn’t want them, perhaps they would throw in their lot with its enemies. Almost the only thing he’d discovered from questioning her servants was that she was supposed to meet with a member of the Black Circle tonight.
The idea, of course, was for me to replace her.
Kit stepped back, eyeing me up and down, while I tried not to fidget. The low-cut French gown of deep red velvet was fit for a queen—a very small one. I was glad I’d put her stockings on before we started, because bending over was no longer an option. But the size wasn’t the main reason the get up was making me uncomfortable.
“I make a credible lady’s maid,” he said, breaking into a smile.
I didn’t smile back. “I’m not a lady.”
“You speak as one.”
“My mother was one of our healers; she saw to it that I received an education,” I said, sitting at the small table where I’d spread out the woman’s toiletries. “But my skills are not those needed to impersonate someone used to fine company.”
“What type of education?” Kit settled himself beside the table, chin in hand.
“I was a wardsmith,” I told him, sorting through the little pots. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d worn paint, but the dress looked strange without it. I pushed the one containing ceruse away; one of the advantages of being a redhead was that my skin was pale enough.
“And yet you turned to thievery?”
I looked up, bristling. “After the Circle convinced the queen to give them monopolies over our traditional livelihoods, yes! I can’t create wards or even sell the charms I’ve already constructed without paying them for the privilege. And I wou
ld rather starve!”
“I meant no offense,” he said, passing me a pot of something. “I find your solution . . . enterprising.”
My eyes narrowed, but he looked sincere. And he didn’t strike me as someone who worried overmuch about the law, if it inconvenienced him. He had helped me escape from prison, after all.
I opened the pot and took a sniff, before recoiling at the stench of sulfur. Vermilion. “Returning to the point,” I said. “Lady Isabel was of noble birth. How do you know I won’t give myself away in the first five minutes?”
“Because I will be standing at your side, playing the part of your nefarious vampire lover.”
I looked him over. He had donned a black leather jerkin over a doublet of blood red samite and black slops. He looked sleek, dark and dangerous—until he smiled as if this were all a huge joke, and ruined the effect.
“You could at least look a little nervous!” I said, setting aside the stinking rouge. “If we’re found out—”
“If I looked uneasy, it would only help to ensure that,” he said mildly. “Take it from an old hand—a little bravado goes a long way. Act as if you belong and no one will question it.”
“They will if they’ve heard of the witch’s capture,” I pointed out. The closer it came to time to leave, the more I was regretting agreeing to this. Having the wherewithal to get Elinor away would do me little good if I didn’t live long enough to use it.
“The Circle kept that very quiet, at our request,” he assured me. “But if challenged point blank, you can always say you escaped.” His lips twisted. “It will even be true.”
“And if this man has met her?” I demanded, trying to darken my lashes with the woman’s expensive imported kohl. It was worse than the vermilion, I thought darkly, as it smeared everywhere.
He laughed and wiped a thumb across my cheek. “You look like a painted Indian.”
“I cannot believe women wear this every day,” I said, scowling. “It’s vile!”
“T’is the fashion. They all wish to look like the queen—pale skin, red hair, black teeth—”
I put the pot down. “She does not.”
