Coins and Daggers (8 page)

“Now, look here. Everyone calls me Brutus
and I like it that way. So, Brutus it shall be.” He patted his
rounded belly and smiled. “Now, out with your question, madam.”

“Where are the horses?” When Audelia turned
to face the man again, he was examining something in the roof that
she could not make out.

“This stable here houses mainly the master’s
broodmares, you see. We had them moved to the main stable, since
it’s bigger, so we can do some repairs. The roof’s leaking a bit
and His Lordship admires his horses a great deal.”

“I see.”

“Yup. Won’t be until another week or so till
the repairs are complete though.”

And before that, she’d be long gone. “Of
course.”

“Perhaps, if you’d like, I can show you to
the main stable to take a look.”

“Maybe another time, Brutus,” she
intentionally stalled. “I do have a few roses to pick from the
gardens for Her Ladyship and I best do that before she wakes.”

“Not a problem,” Brutus saluted, bidding her
way to pass. “If you ever need some conversation, I’ll be
around.”

“And I’ll be sure to remember that. See you
later, Brutus.”

Audelia left the stable and rounded the
corner, only to walk straight up into something very hard and
unmoving. The stars circling her head lingered a little while
before she managed to look up.

“In a hurry, are you?”

The blasted
guard stood glaring down at her as if she had committed some
crime.
Well...
“Get out of my way, you giant. What
do you want?”

“His Lordship has appointed me to go
wherever you go, Miss.”

“I don’t need a shadow and if I did, it
would hardly be one as big and clumsy as you.” The brute arched a
brow. “Do you actually think I didn’t know you’ve been following
me?”

“Doesn’t matter.” The man stood, arms
crossed. “What do you want with the stables?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Oh, don’t be talking all nice now. I heard
you asking about His Lordship’s horses.”

Audelia tensed, blood pumping hotly through
her veins. “What do you think? That I’m looking for one to
steal?”

“Not one. Maybe several too.”

“And where, pray tell, would I put them? In
my bosom?”

The guard glanced down at her modestly
covered breasts for a fleeting moment before meeting her glaring
eyes again. “I hardly know and I don’t care. You thieving wenches
have pockets the size of traveling carts these days.” The guard
stepped closer, almost tipping her over and off balance. “So, let’s
see ‘em.”

Audelia stepped back, wishing more than ever
that she was still in possession of her dagger. If she had, the
fool man would have been wiser to maintain his distance.

“Take another step and you’ll rue the day
you ever set eyes on me, you ill-mannered oaf.”

* *

U
lric St. Rosso
stared down from the window of his study, his attention caught on
the fast-moving female in royal-blue garb.

He must be losing his senses because he
somehow could not stop looking at her. From where he stood, he
could make out firmly sculpted legs, imprinted beneath the flowing
fabric as she moved towards the gardens enveloping the courtyard.
Her raven colored hair, as he’d observed earlier, was tightly
pinned up on her head with springy ringlets brushing against her
temple.

She was pretty.

Shoving away from the window, he reached for
his tankard and took a deep swallow. The liquid burned down his
throat and settled heavily in his stomach. It was not an admission
he had wanted to make but he had to, even if mentally.

Her dirt-covered face had apparently been
scrubbed clean and her womanly figure neatly clad in cool light
fabric. He supposed he should not have had judged her appearances
so readily but now that he realized, disappointment sunk in his gut
like a solid brick.

When he had stumbled upon her in his
library, he had been standing there for several moments just
watching her as she stared out the window at something he could not
see. From then, with her back turned, he had noticed a rather
well-curved backside and rounded hips. But no, it was when she had
pivoted that he had noticed the unintentional tease in her glossy
brown eyes and the tempting curve of her mouth.

By God, he had nearly been tempted to walk
straight up to her and show her all that a man’s mouth could do.
Ulric had also fully intended on dismissing her from the room at
once but when she’d moved, he’d caught a sniff of something
pleasant. Something akin to sandalwood and the subtlest scents of
lilac. By that point, his fool senses had taken over and he had
found a good excuse to keep her in the room a while longer.

He hadn’t
been able to take his eyes off her then, despite his best efforts.
So while he’d been contemplating on the fact for the past hours,
he’d decided that he indeed
was
losing his
senses.

Draining the contents from his tankard,
Ulric slouched in his chair and sighed. A moment later, Edwin came
shoving in with a tray in hand.

“How about a game?” he offered, pulling up a
chair.

Groaning, Ulric glanced up as his friend
placed down the tray of warm jelly-filled biscuits and then began
arranging a chess board. It had been a while since they’d made a
good sport of it.

Ulric reached for one of the delicacies and
bit into it. “Cook is obviously trying to persuade my sister to
stay longer. She hasn’t made these since Ryia had first left all
those years ago.”

“Or mayhap, she’s trying to add a little
sweet to your bitterness.”

Ulric chuckled, licking a trail of jelly
from his finger. “After all this time?”

“Better late than never.”

“Mm. Where were you?”

“I had a missive I wanted to deliver
personally in town. I received a letter from Henshire.”

Ulric sat up. “Is your mother alright?”

“The letter did not say much but I believe
she might be more ill than she let on in writing. I’m making
arrangements to set out early in the morning.”

“Safe travels and my regards to Mrs.
Montagu.” Edwin nodded and although Ulric could not see his face,
he knew his friend was worrying. Edwin Montagu was that sort of
fellow. “If you’d like, I could ride out with you.”

Edwin chuckled now and looked up, his eyes
lit with sad humor. “And leave Ryia here alone? You’d return to see
the entire estate transformed into a blasted ladies’ pen. And you
have a felon on your watch, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Ulric swallowed the rest of his biscuit.
“Ah. That.”

“
Precisely.
That
. Black or
white?”

Ulric glanced down at the chess board.
“Black.”

“Prepare to be defeated.” Edwin shove one
white pawn two spaces up. “She appears to have cleaned up rather
nicely.”

Ulric moved one black pawn up one space.
“Who? Ryia?”

“Your felon.”

“
She’s not
my
felon but
a
felon.” Ulric arched a nonchalant brow, studying his
prospective moves. “And
you’ve
noticed?”

“
You mean,
you
haven’t?” Same
pawn progressed on-wards.

Ulric shook his head and fingered the head
of his black knight. “I admit, the wench looks rather...clean.”

“And a bit easy on the eyes too.”

Ulric glanced up abruptly to meet Edwin’s
penetrating gaze. His friend was trifling with him and he knew it.
Tempering the sudden possessiveness that was coursing in his blood,
he landed his knight two places up and one to the left, blocking
Edwin’s chance at taking his silly pawn. “A pretty little thief,
then.”

“If I weren’t betrothed, I’d take a chance
at her.”

Ulric almost
spat crumbs all over his desk. “You are not betrothed and you most
assuredly will
not
seek favors from my
felon.”

Edwin smiled and leaned back in his seat,
hands entwined behind his head as his smirk developed into a
full-blown grin. One bearing keen similarities to that of a cat who
had just found the cream pot.

“
Ah. So
now
she’s your
felon.”

“I am officially calling it so.” Ulric eyed
his friend and then returned his gaze to the game. Edwin was
wandering on a path that he had no right to and that was what
concerned Ulric the most. While Edwin had always been a sensible
fellow, his seldom need to push boundaries had never provoked Ulric
until now. “Now, shall we return to the game?”

Edwin obliged, leaning forward and studying
his pieces. “More than happy to, dear friend. But I must warn you
as I’ve warned you before, you are up for a bitter loss.”

Forty-five minutes later Ulric won the game,
with a tray empty of biscuits and a mere rook guarding his
king.

Nine

“
I
may have
tossed about a bit in bed last night,” Ryia said, eyeing her lady’s
maid sheepishly. “It’s all in knots, I fear.”

“No worries, milady. My own had been quite a
work this morn as well.”

As if with relief, Lady Ryia’s shoulders
fell from their tensed state and a giggle surfaced from her. “Dear
God, you are too comforting.”

Behind her, her lady’s maid smiled as she
gently untangled a blue ribbon from the end of Her Ladyship’s
unraveling single plait. Combing her fingers through the braid,
Audelia then began brushing through it, ends first. Her Ladyship
had lovely hair, much like that of a dear friend. Much like
Jocelyn’s, to be exact. A friend Audelia had not seen in many
months but still wished to perhaps meet with again if God were to
permit it. Such desires, as she well knew, were not practical at
all...for she’d heard that Jocelyn Bardeen had been wed off to the
nephew of her own benefactor only a week after Audelia had left
Madame de Lucci’s clutches. Finding her friend’s home was quite
easy but speaking with her would be the difficult task, indeed.
Plus, it would be at the risk of exposing herself lest the Madame
was searching for her.

As she ran the brush through Her Ladyship’s
hair one last time, Audelia swallowed her own self-pity and prayed
silently that Jocelyn was alright.

“Any suggestions on your hair-do, milady?”
she almost choked out.

Lady Ryia shifted on the stool at her vanity
and scrunched up her pretty face in thought. “I’d forgotten how
casual it can be here at Chastelle Manor. And I daresay, I’d loved
that very much as a girl. Perhaps a single braid will do, don’t you
think?”

Audelia’s brows rose with surprise. “A-Are
you certain, milady?”

“Quite certain.” Lady Ryia smiled at her
through the looking-glass. “I hope you hadn’t thought of me as a
pompous lady who had not a clue of how to relax and tone things
down a bit.”

Laughter bubbled at the corner of Audelia’s
lips. “Not at all.”

“Good. But do tell me...”

“Milady?”

Audelia felt Lady Ryia’s fingers close over
hers suddenly, stilling her on the course of beginning the plait.
Their gazes clashed unwaveringly in the looking glass. “What had
you been thinking on just a moment past?”

Audelia frowned, breaking the gaze. “Milady,
what do you mean?”

“Why, you looked positively perplexed. Don’t
you dear think I hadn’t noticed.”

“Twas nothing. Only remembering a friend of
mine.”

Her Ladyship smiled and released Audelia’s
hand. “And of what nature is your...friend?”

It took Audelia a moment to actually
understand what Lady Ryia was inquiring. Clearing her throat, she
began with the braid. “She’s my closest friend, Your Ladyship. We
have not been in correspondence for a while.”

“And does she...live in town?”

“N-no, Your Ladyship. A further distance
away.”

“Mm. Too bad.” Her Ladyship sighed as if
truly saddened. “If that had been the case, I would have been happy
to deliver a missive on your behalf.”

Audelia looked up sharply, every nerve
ending in her hands going stiff. “Y-You would have done that?”

“
Of course. I’ve only known you little over a day, Lia, and
look how fond I am already of you.
You
happen to be
good company, especially in this dreary house.”

Two sharp raps came outside the door to Her
Ladyship’s chamber, followed by a deep baritone voice behind it. A
voice Audelia could not forget even if she tried.

“Ryia, it’s me. Are you decent?”

“Speaking of the devil,” Lady Ryia chuckled
provocatively and rolled her eyes. “Continue as you will, Lia.” She
then cleared her throat daintily and called out, “I am decent, dear
brother. You may enter.”

The door swung open without even a sound and
Lord St. Rosso, in all his largeness, invaded the room. Audelia
kept her head down and persisted on with the braid in as much
speedy fashion as she could afford.

“Ah, there you are,” he said, looking rather
dapper in black garb and impeccably polished boots. Even his long
dark hair was neatly swept away from his face.

Ulric passed
his gaze over his sister, pausing only a moment on Miss Rolfen as
she moved her hands rather rapidly in Ryia’s hair. He thought she
looked considerably radiant for so early in the morning. Yes, he
thought his sister’s
supposed
lady’s maid
looked rather ravishing.

“And who may I thank for your visit at so
early in the day, Bryce? It must had been quite a task for you to
wake in such a grand mood.”

Audelia
swallowed.
Bryce
. A nice name,
indeed.