Boyett-Compo Charlotte - Wind Tales 01 (12 page)

Elga almost hissed with exasperation; she knew that much. Why else would the girl be in such a dither?

“What of him, dearling?” she forced herself to ask in a motherly tone.

“I know you told me not to see him...” Gillian's voice trailed off as she plucked at a loose thread on her

sleeve.

“Aye,” Elga agreed. “And I told you why: the man is too old for you."

Gillian lifted her head and looked fiercely at Elga. “There is less age difference between he and I than

there is between you and Papa."

Elga nodded. “True, but that is different.” When her stepdaughter would have argued, she held up a

staying hand. “Your Papa and I were both widowed. I had been married ten years to my husband-the

gods be good to him-and was no untried girl who knows nothing of the brutish ways of men."

Gillian could have argued that Elga knew more about men than most women ever would, but she held

her tongue. Her stepmother's reputation was not the issue here.

When the girl didn't speak, Elga reached out to lift her chin so she could look into her stepdaughter's

face. “I take it you've been seeing him anyway,” she said in a clipped voice.

“I love him,” Gillian replied with a hitching sob.

Elga sighed heavily. “And I suppose he has told you he loves you, as well?"

“Aye,” Gillian confessed.

There was a sad shake of Elga's lovely head. “They all say that, Gillian."

“It's true!” her stepdaughter cried. “I know t'is, else why would he want to...?” she stopped, catching her

lip once more between her teeth.

“Why else what?” Elga said, squinting. “You'd best tell me the whole of it."

Gillian felt the tears clouding her vision. One single salty drop fell down her cheek and she reached up to

bat it away. “I promised him I would not speak of it."

Elga folded her hands in her lap. “Let me see if I can guess what it is that is occurring here,” she said on

a long breath. “He has asked you to run away with him, is that it?"

The young woman looked up sharply. “How did you know?” she gasped.

Striving to keep the triumph from her red lips, Elga schooled her face to a careful sadness. “My dear

child,” she said in a heavy tone of sympathy, “such happens all the time. She sat forward, took Gillian's

hands in her own and brought the girl's knuckles to her lips where she planted a soft kiss, then gave her

stepdaughter a sad smile. “You say he loves you, but has he given any care to your reputation?"

“W ... what do you mean?” Gillian asked.

“Why, dearling,” Elga said with slight annoyance, “if he truly loved you, he would not be asking you to

run away with him in the middle of the night.” She narrowed her gaze. “I take it this will happen tonight?"

The older woman had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing aloud. “And he instructed

you not to tell anyone, am I right?"

Gillian's hand flew to her mouth and her stare filled with guilt. She would have spoken, but her

stepmother laid a restrictive finger over her lips.

“Nay, it is of no matter. I won't tell anyone,” Elga lied. “But I would have you think, Gillian."

“Think?” the girl echoed.

Elga cocked her head to one side. “If he loves you as much as he vows, why has he not come to your

father or, for that matter, to the Jarl to ask for your hand?"

The younger woman blinked. She had not thought of that. Why were they running away? Why had he

not made his wishes known to his brother, the Jarl? Why leave in secrecy? Telling no one?

Dakin's wife saw the wheels turning in her stepdaughter's head and almost smiled. Elga knew she had

put doubts there; she could see them forming behind those vivid green eyes. Thinking quickly, she drew

from her vast array of deceitful tricks to firm up those doubts.

“Gillian,” she said, getting up and starting to pace, “I have held my tongue concerning Kaelan Hesar for I

know how infatuated you are with him, but I think now is as good a time as any to tell you something

about him you may not know."

“What do you mean?” Gillian asked. She watched her stepmother pacing before the sweep of windows

that overlooked the garden of Tempest Keep.

“I have debated this for quite some time,” Elga said, as though the girl hadn't spoken. “I do not like to

spread gossip and I was afraid you would think less of me if I told you what I personally knew of the

prince.” She turned and fixed her young ward with a look of misery.

“He and I were ... close ... once.” She saw the shock pass over her stepdaughter's face. “He told me

things he would not tell others."

Elga's blush came on cue. “The affair lasted for two years."

Kaelan had slept with this woman? Gillian gasped. Surely not. She would not believe it of him. Her face

said as much.

“Has he shown you how well he kisses, dearling?” Elga inquired, knowing almost for a certainty that

Kaelan had been the only man to kiss the girl and banking on Gillian not having discussed such things with

her sisters. “Has he shown you how adept he is at using his tongue to imitate the act of sex?"

Gillian's sharp intake of breath told Elga all she needed to know. She drove the stake deeper in her

stepdaughter's heart: “I've been kissed many times, but no man has ever done that to me save him."

She lowered her gaze as though in embarrassment. “Though I've heard other women saying the same

thing about Kaelan Hesar."

The young girl stood up, her entire body trembling. What if Kaelan had made love to the woman? What

did it prove except that Elga Junstrom Cree was the whore Gillian had once named her to Kaelan. Had

he denied it that night? He had not! She lifted her chin and fused her gaze with Elga's. “That is in the

past."

“Aye,” Elga agreed, wanting to shake the stupid chit. “And I did not mean to infer our relationship had

continued. I told you of the affair simply to have you understand I know the man well. Intimately well.”

Before Gillian could defend her love again, Elga went to her and took her by the shoulders.

“You must know all of it, though, before you make up your mind to meet with him this eve!” She pushed

Gillian down in the chair again and sat in front of her, her attitude one of breathless haste. “You know, of

course, about the missing money?"

Gillian's brows came together. “Money?” she repeated.

“Aye,” Elga said, waving a dismissive hand. “The money that was taken from the Depository.” She

locked eyes with Gillian. “No doubt you heard there was a depletion of funds due to the floods last

summer."

“Aye. What has that to do with Kaelan?""

“Duncan thought it best the Court be given that lie rather than the truth,” Elga went on, spinning a tale

that was rapidly forming in her devious mind, and did not give the girl a chance to speak. “The Master

Treasurer knows, of course; he was the one who brought the perfidy to Duncan's attention. Neither of

them wanted to see Kaelan imprisoned for the crime."

“Crime?!” Gillian gasped.

“Of course, if the money can be replaced before the Tribunal's next audit,” Elga stressed, “there will be

no question of Kaelan being brought to trial."

Gillian jumped up from the chair. “Kaelan is no thief!"

“I did not say he was!” Elga told her. “I merely tell you what has happened and that Kaelan is the one

who has been blamed."

“He is no thief,” Gillian repeated. She pushed her stepmother out of her way and headed for the door.

“Don't you see how his running away will look, though, Gillian?” Elga called after her. “It will make him

appear guilty."

“I don't care!” Gillian shouted. She yanked open the door and fled, headlong rush; was mindless of

heads bending together in mumbled whisperings as she reached the prince's door and pounded on it.

“Kaelan!” she shouted, her fist striking the door with enough force to bruise her flesh. “Kaelan!!"

Gunter stepped out of his and Adele's chambers, the loud noise having disturbed his pregnant wife.

“He's not in there, Sweeting,” he told his sister-in-law and was startled as she flew toward him, grabbing

his shirt front in a vicious clasp when she reached him.

“Where is he?” Gillian hissed, yanking on his shirt.

“I have no idea,” Gunter grumbled. He put his hands up to pull hers away from his clothing. “I saw him

leave with a traveling satchel not more than half an hour ago."

Satchel? The word flew through Gillian's brain. He had told her to bring nothing with her. Why was he

taking a satchel?

“Has something happened?” Gunter asked. He saw people milling about in the hall, staring. “Can I be of

assistance?"

“No,” Gillian snapped. She pushed away from him and ran to her chambers. The hall clock was just then

chiming seven and she had to be dressed and at the meeting place on time. As she slammed the door

behind her, her stepmother's words came back to haunt her: “Don't you see how his running away will

look?"

Was the missing money in that satchel Gunter saw Kaelan carrying?
Gillian wondered as she tore

off her gown. Was that why they were leaving Tempest Keep? To escape the chance of being charged

with the crime of embezzlement from the Depository? To be free of the imprisonment that would follow

should he be found guilty?

Gillian stopped. “But why would he take money from the Depository in the first place?"

“I'll not let anyone tear us apart, Gillian,” he had said. “I'll never hurt you nor will I ever allow anyone

else to hurt you!"

There was more to this than she'd been told, Gillian realized. But one thing was for certain: only Kaelan

could provide the answers to the puzzle!

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Sixteen: Holy Dale Manor

“He was waiting just this side of the bridge,” Kaelan was saying. “I had no idea how he could have found

out.” He plowed his hand through his hair. “I knew Gillian wouldn't have told anyone."

Nick got up to put another log on the fire. If anyone was to tell Kaelan how his brother had found out, it

would have to be Gillian.

“I was furious when I saw him walking out of the fog toward me.” Kaelan massaged his aching thigh.

“The bastard had three of his personal guards with him."

“Intent on taking you back?” Nick inquired, sitting down again.

“Which they did,” Kaelan answered heatedly. His eyes glazed with remembered bitterness. “I did my

best to get away, but they were among his toughest Elite and I didn't stand a chance against them."

“Sinclair, I was holed up in the filthiest, most remote dungeon cell my brother could find for me!"

“He jailed you?” Duncan growled.

“And took great delight in doing it, too,” Kaelan snorted. “Shackles and all."

Nick's mouth dropped open. He could barely credit the evil done this man simply because Kaelan Hesar

had fallen in love with a woman his brother thought inappropriate for him. That that woman was Nick's

sister made the whole thing even worse to his way of thinking.

“He told me he was going to keep me there until I agreed to his plan."

A long breath escaped Nick. “We were having such a time with Gillian right about then, I don't

remember much of what was happening at Court."

“Oh, Duncan gladly came down to visit me to give me all the gory details!” Kaelan hissed. “He positively

quivered every time a new bidder came forward to make an offer.” The disgust in the prince's voice was

sentient. “Gilbreths offered 200,000 gold pieces; the Redmonds offered 275,000. I felt like a piece of

meat!"

“I remember the day Justus Sinclair came to Court, though,” Nick quipped. “One look at that precious

only daughter of his and every man there went hard as a rock."

Kaelan snorted. “Aye, I can see how she would do that to a man if he didn't know her for the bitch she

could be."

“How did he finally settle on Marie?” Nick asked. “I know the Redmonds outbid the Sinclair's.” He

thought a moment. “The last I heard, the bidding was up to 700,000 gold pieces and Justus Sinclair was

bemoaning the fact that he hadn't that much loose capitol to work with."

“That might have been true, but he had Holy Dale,” Kaelan reminded him. “His dead wife's estate."

“Ah,” Nick said. “So Duncan was given title to this mansion.” Kaelan nodded. “What were you given,

then?"

The prince shrugged. “Marie."

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Seventeen: The night Kaelan was jailed: Tempest Keep

The fog was thick. It wrapped Gillian in damp arms and hid her-she hoped-from the night beasties who

prowled in the pearly glow. Beneath her feet, the swift water of Farthane Creek bubbled and lapped at

the old wooden pilings of the bridge; the sound made her want to pee so badly her teeth ached. When

the man stepped out of the fog, she nearly eased the ache in her teeth.

“Who's there?” she whispered, praying it was Kaelan although by her watch, he was nearly an hour late.

“Duncan Hesar."

The name jolted her and she took a step back from his advance. The Jarl was alone, she saw; minus the

usual company of Elite who dogged his every step. But if he were here to help her and his brother, he

would want no prying eyes to witness his actions. She strained to see if Kaelan was with him.

“He's not coming, dearling,” he told her as though he'd read her mind.

Gillian felt a cold chill run down her spine. “Where is he?"

Duncan's face materialized out of a patch of wafting fog and his eyes were sad. “On his way to Serenia

by now, I would imagine."