Coins and Daggers (16 page)

“Will you relax?” Ulric dabbed the corner of
his mouth with a napkin and withheld his belch. “A man would like
to have dinner with his sister once in a while.”

Eyes
narrowing, Ryia pursed her lips. “And you expect me to believe
that? You who, as I can clearly recall, ‘
usually dines privately
’?”

“Good gracious, do you do latch onto
everything I say?”

“Whyever should I not?” Ryia took a sip of
water, glancing down at her untouched meal. “You said so yourself.
And now, when I am just a couple days from leaving, you break your
own idiotic rule and invite me to dine privately with you. Forgive
me if I am a bit stunned by the gesture.”

Sighing, Ulric cast his gaze to the heavens
and then back to his sister. Good lord, he was trying but Ryia was
certainly making it difficult. He blamed Audelia for putting the
idea in his head.

“Dining alone is something I’ve grown
accustomed to, Ryia,” he said, forking a piece of potato from his
plate. “Do remember I live alone.”

“Edwin is here with you most of the
time.”

Ulric rolled his eyes and snorted. “We are
men, Ryia. Males do not dine regularly together, all by themselves.
We pass our meals in a study over a bottle of brandy and perhaps a
game or two of cards and chess.”

Finally, and God bless his sanity, Ryia
tried a piece of pork. As she chewed, she watched him curiously. “I
haven’t seen you roll your eyes since we were children.”

“And you haven’t been more irritating.”

She chuckled then, sharing herself a scoop
of rice. “It’s you, Bryce, who has become overly sensitive. Those
pestering ways have long been abandoned, if you must know. My
husband is quite the cheerer and such enthusiasm is very
contagious.”

“So it’s me you like to annoy then?”

“
Not ‘
annoy
’,” she blew
out, rolling her own eyes, and resting a hand on Ulric’s shoulder.
“Just curious. I hadn’t seen my only brother in almost eight years.
What do you expect?”

Ulric scratched at his chin and glanced at
his sister. He could see that Ryia had grown immensely over the
years and marriage seemed to suit her well. With a family of her
own, who adored her by no doubt, he could see no reason for her not
to be as happy as she claimed. He could see it in the way she
behaved, even saw in her eyes the last time she had spoken of them.
Ryia must have truly gotten the love she had been wishing for since
they were children. Ulric thought, then, that love must truly be a
great thing.

“I see,” he murmured, pouring them each a
glass of wine. “Tell me about them. My niece, my nephew.” He
cleared his throat. “The baron.”

Ryia’s eyes
lit up immediately and she swallowed down her food, excitement
glittering in her blue eyes. “Well... Goodness, I don’t know where
to start.” She giggled and then patted him playfully on the arm.
“First of all, Bryce, don’t you think it’s high time you stopped
referring to Merek as ‘
the
baron
’? He’s your
brother-in-law, for heaven’s sake. Perhaps if he hadn’t
some...respect for you, he would have said so himself.”

“Merek Hyslop was a knight, Ryia.” Ulric
shook his head and swallowed down a good portion of his wine. “Such
respect you speak of sounds a bit like fear to me. Which is highly
unnecessary coming from a man who’d been soldiering his youth away
in honor of this country. He’s earned his wealth and title and
ought not be afraid of me.”

Ryia swallowed, staring at her brother for a
good deal of time, unsure of what to say. It was after several
moments of deep thinking that she realized she hadn’t any rebuttal.
And it wasn’t till then that she fathomed what Ulric was truly
saying.

“Bryce,” she gasped, her eyes wide with
wonder. “That is a rather fine compliment.”

“Yes, well don’t get greedy about it.”
Smiling, he gave his sister a gentle squeeze on the shoulder and
removed the last piece of pork from his plate. “And you better eat
up. Cook never liked her food to go to waste.”

Ryia readily dove into her meal, beaming
like a child on her birthday. “Let’s see... Uh, where was I? Oh
yes. Joseff has hair like mine. He’s a bit short for his age and
terribly shy but I have great confidence he will grow into a
strapping young man. I’ve already started working with him on his
poise and--”

Ulric almost
spat out his drink. “
Poise
? Are you
joking? Leave the lad alone, Ryia. He’s only four. I am sure he
will grow into it. Come on. Have you seen his uncle?”

His sister gave him one assessing look and
then shook her head. “At least he’ll learn decorum from his
father.”

Grinning, Ulric smoothed down the lapels of
his dinner jacket. “Admit it, I’m rather dapper.”

“Maliha inherited her father’s golden hair.
She is three years old,” Ryia went on as if he hadn’t said a thing.
“But sometimes I think she truly believes that she’s the older one.
She can be very bossy and stubborn, and I fear she shall turn my
head gray far too soon. But she’s her father’s darling and I’m
relieved sometimes when he takes her in hand.”

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

“
K
eep 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.

* * *

I
t 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.”