phantom knights 04 - deceit in delaware (33 page)

Jack took two steps toward me and kicked Luther in the gut, the blow sending him sprawling backwards. There was nothing to grasp as his arms flailed, and then he fell backwards off the scaffold. Striking his back on the ground must have hurt but he did not show pain as he hopped up, screaming curses in both Danish and English.

Luther bounded up the steps and gripped the lever that would plunge Jack and I to our deaths.

“Do you wish to plead for your lives?” Luther sneered.

“Arabella is not coming,” I said with finality.

“So be it!” Luther gripped the lever.

Could I do this? Could I share my greatest and final secret?

“Tell him, Constance.” Freddy shouted with enough conviction that Luther’s hand paused over the lever.

Meeting Jack’s gaze, I drew in a fortifying breath, and admitted the one secret that I swore never to reveal to my uncle.

“Rose is not coming …”

Jack was shaking his head, begging me not to tell, and I realized that he thought I was confessing about the baby. Our child. Turning my gaze from him, I stared out over the heads of those who had come to be my family, over the tops of the trees, into the horizon.

Finish this, Constance. Speak the truth and pray that the truth does indeed set you free.

That had been what Gideon had told me during one of our counseling meetings. That the truth would set me free. He meant the truth about the Holy Order, about telling Jack who I was and where I came from, but not even Gideon knew the whole truth. The truth would set me free? I could only hope.

“…because the future queen is already here.”

CHAPTER 26

JACK

S
he was lying. She had to be. If not … I could not begin to contemplate the ramifications if she were telling the truth.

“You are lying,” Luther said.

“There is one way to know the truth,” Guinevere said without a tremor. She sounded stronger than I had ever heard her when facing her uncle. “Release us from these ropes, and bring me Sfære af lys.”

Luther looked from her to his son and back again. Freddy appeared pained, as if the weight of Guinevere’s secret was a painful release.

It could not be true.

Could it?

“You and I will go alone,” Luther tried to say, but Guinevere refused.

“You will release us both. I will not have your guards hanging Jack when my back is turned. If you have any doubts of my earnestness, consider that I, and only I, can open that box. Without me, you have no hope of ever returning to Lutania.”

Guinevere kept her gaze fastened upon Luther. Unwavering, unrelenting.

“If you are lying, it will cost you his life,” Luther told her, motioning to me.

Guinevere did not even look my way as she gave one curt nod. “I understand.”

Luther stared into her eyes for a long moment, and then turned his back upon her. “Release them.” He walked down the steps and toward his carriage.

Two guards came to release us from the ropes around our necks. I wanted to say something to Guinevere, what, I did not know, but something. The guards did not allow me the chance. One of them moved her away at once, and the other guard waited until they were in the carriage before guiding me off of the scaffold.

James, Betsy, and Levi were forced to walk with me toward the house as Guinevere rode in the carriage with her uncle and the others.

Freddy chose to walk with us, coming up beside me. His black look frightened my guard into taking a step back so that Freddy could walk beside me.

“She did not tell you,” he stated. “No one knew besides me and Rose.”

Saying nothing, I kept my focus upon the front door as the carriage halted and my wife was led into the house.

“You do not believe her.”

Inhaling through my nose, I felt like a snorting bull. She was lying. This was a ploy to gain our release. What she meant to do when we entered the house was still a mystery, but she had a plan. Guinevere always had a plan.

“You will see the truth soon enough,” Freddy said and then remained silent as we entered the house and were crowded into the sitting room.

Charlotte, Martha, and my mother were standing against one of the walls, but when we entered, my mother came toward me. One of the guards stepped into her path.

“I am going to stand with my sons. You may guard us to your heart’s content from there. Try to stop me and I will have Luther chop off your head.”

After mother had tried to choke Luther to death I did not expect her to have any sway with him, but he surprised me. Laughing, he motioned for the guard to move.

Mother stood between me and Levi, tucking her hands around an arm of each of us.

Guinevere was seated upon a chair beside the fireplace, unshackled and calm, but still she did not look at me.

Not until the portmanteau was carried into the room and placed at her feet. Then she met my gaze for a fleeting moment.

The portmanteau was opened for her, but it was she who leaned down and lifted the black box. Placing it upon her lap, I watched the rise and fall of her chest as her finger traced the symbols upon the black dodecahedron shape. It was covered with a different symbol, rune, or Roman numeral on each corner, both top and bottom. The symbols on the box were a serpent, throne, spear, a lion, lightning bolt, ring, and two babies connected by a cord. There were also two larger figures of an eagle and a phoenix.

Remembering when Sam and Bess had worked together to translate the symbols, the message still floated in my mind, as if it would never be erased.

The usurper has come—
which had to be Luther—
to destroy the light; the time is now, to restore the right.
Which was one of the sisters.

Through lightning we strike, the evil within, who gained his power, through usurping and sin.
I guessed that also meant Luther.

Through lightning we strike, once and for all, to restore the right, bringing justice to all.

The conviction that I had that day in Sam’s book room was slowly expanding within my chest, forcing its unwanted truth into me as Guinevere began to turn the points on the box, lining them up in some kind of order. She began with the lion, which appeared to be the top, and from there she made quick work of the rest of the symbols. Guinevere knew the order in which they connected, working her way all the way down to the phoenix. As she turned that final point, there was a soft click, and Guinevere broke the box into two halves. Levi and I both leaned forward, trying to see into the half of the box that Guinevere was staring into. We could see nothing until she lowered it to her lap and removed a folded paper. Which she handed to Luther.

The whole time Guinevere had been working the box, Luther had been hovering over her with narrowed, greedy eyes. He had not believed that she was speaking the truth either, until Guinevere succeeded in opening the box. He snapped the paper from between Guinevere’s fingers and devoured the words writ inside.

Realizing that I was holding my breath, I slowly released it in a soft hiss.

Luther lowered the note to his side and took a moment before raising his gaze to the room.

“Dominic,” Luther called and one of his guards stepped forward, “see the crown princess and her sister to their chamber.”

Guinevere rose and moved toward the door, casting me a look that said so much and yet nothing at all. Charlotte followed her from the room, saying nothing, but still holding her injured arm. Her eyes were wide, her bewilderment pronounced.

My mother moved to Luther’s side. “May I?”

He handed her the letter. Mother read it, her brows lifting, and then she folded it and handed it back. When her eyes rested upon me, she smiled, apologetically.

My nails dug into my palms as I clenched my fists, my shoulders ached as I forced them back, and my throat stung with the sickness that threatened to rise.

She had lied to me.

I had asked her if she was the future queen, and she had lied.

“Take those three to a cell,” Luther ordered, motioning to Levi, James, and Betsy.

They were pulled from the room without protest.

“Eleanora, my dearest heart, you and Martha give me a few minutes alone with Jack.”

Martha stalked out of the sitting room, but my mother hesitated, glancing from Luther to me as if she feared for me.

“I mean him no harm, per our agreement.” Luther’s words struck a chord of dread.

What agreement? What had Mother done?

Once Luther and I were alone with only two guards, he ordered that my shackles be removed.

When the pressure from my binds was gone, I rubbed each of my wrists.

“Wine?” Luther asked cordially as he poured out two glasses.

“Please,” I replied, having had nothing to drink in ages. Luther handed me a crystal goblet, and I tossed the wine off.

Moving to the decanter, I poured myself another, fuller glass. Luther watched me with amusement in his eyes as I sat upon Guinevere’s deserted chair, quite at my ease. Inside, I was a bundle of nerves, but Luther would never know. I knew how to play a role.

“May I ask you a question that has been plaguing my mind?”

Luther sat upon the sofa across from me. “By all means.”

“Why did you murder your brother?”

“Is that not obvious? He had something that I wanted, and he refused to be removed by all of my prior attempts, so I did what any man in my position would.”

His position? Being a duke? Living in a palace? Never having to worry about where his next meal would come from? Poor, pitiful prince.

“Tell me, Jack. Have you ever wanted something so much that you would kill to possess it?”

Guinevere’s face appeared in my mind. I would kill to keep her with me, to keep her safe. I
had
killed to protect her.

“I can see the truth upon your face. We are not so different, you and I. Though where I have succeeded in gaining my heart’s desire, you, unfortunately, shall not.”

“What do you mean to do with me now that you have my wife?”

“She is not your wife. Your marriage was not sanctioned by the council.” Luther smiled as if that pleased him.

In my eyes, and the eyes of God, we were married, no matter what Luther or any council decided. Guinevere—Constance—was my wife. She was carrying my child.

“As to your question, I do not mean to do anything with you. You are released.”

“Why?” The man was foolish beyond belief if he thought I would not fight to keep my wife and my family from his clutches.

“Your wife and your mother joined forces to wheedle a vow from me.”

As if his word meant a thing. The man was a perpetual liar.

“I see that you do not believe my word amounts to much, but, when tempted with all that they offered, how could I refuse?” Luther set his goblet aside and leaned forward. His lip was still busted, though covered in dried blood. His left cheek was completely purple, and there was a black ring forming under his eye, but he did not appear as if his injuries pained him at all.

“Constance has pledged her alliance to me in exchange for your safe release, and Eleanora has pledged her hand to me so long as I, and my guards, do not harm her children.”

My chest tightened, but I stared coolly across to Luther. “If you have forgotten, my mother is a married woman. My father, as I am sure that you have not forgotten, is very much alive.”

Luther’s lips turned from smiling to sneering. “For the moment. When he comes, and come he will, I shall be prepared to meet him.”

“What do you propose to do? Murder my father and then sail away with my wife and mother to Lutania?”

“Along with my son and daughter and Mary Edith, yes, that is what I will do.”

“What about Martha? Or should I call her Marta?”

She believed that Luther and she had a vow in place. It was her plan to murder my wife and her sisters so that she could rule at Luther’s side. If she knew of Luther’s plan, then she had to be planning to remove my mother from her path as well. Which meant that taking out Martha had to be my priority, after rescuing my wife and mother. She was the Holy Order’s traitor. She was a traitor to Lutania, and to my wife and her sisters. She had tried to stand between my parents. If she were holding a grudge, as I believed that she was, then removing my mother would not only assist her end goal, but also hurt my father. He had spurned Martha’s advances all those years ago. Did a woman recover from such things? Perhaps a woman with an ounce of kindness, but Martha had none. She was calculating, cunning, and inner focused.

She had chosen her path and now it was time for her to reap the consequences of her choices.

“You do understand that my wife and your son are lying to you. Constance is not the future queen. Arabella is, and Constance is only trying to protect her family from you.”

As I spoke the words, Luther’s reaction was not at all what I expected. Instead of showing doubt, instead of showing that he believed me and all of this was a ploy to lay a trap for Rose, he cast me a pitying expression.

“Your faith could be considered admirable, if it were not so misplaced. Constance was born the elder, but my brother’s wife did not want anyone to know. She believed that if she kept the truth then the throne would be safe. Even then, Elisabeth was a designing minx. She never trusted me. She knew what my brother was too stupid to comprehend.” Luther leaned back in comfort, stretching out his long legs across the rug. “She knew that it was by my hand that my father died.”

The story came to mind, the one that my mother had written about. My father had been a soldier then, a head guard for Elisabeth and her ladies in waiting. There had been an attack to the carriages that the king, queen, Elisabeth, and my mother were riding inside. They thought it was bandits who had attacked and murdered the king. My father had fought and saved the women but he had not been able to save the king.

The king had died and Eric had been crowned.

“My brother was supposed to have been with them, but, alas, he was always ruining my well-laid plans. I could have removed all hindrances that day, but I had to bide my time until he offered me a moment to strike.”