Thief's War: A Knight and Rogue Novel (21 page)

“It’s here,” she said, with a simplicity that left no room for doubt.

’Twas the work of moments to discover three carved rosettes near that spot, which pulled off to reveal three dials numbered one through thirty…but there I stuck.

There was obviously some safe or compartment behind the panel, and the dials would each have to register the correct number to open it. Had I dared spend the better part of…how many hours? days? standing in Roseman’s bedroom methodically trying all the possible combinations, I might eventually find it.

Fisk could probably have opened it in minutes.

But Fisk was gone, and one maid coming in to dust could destroy all hope of bringing down the Rose.

I would have to discover the combination the hard way.

* * *

Now that I needed his presence, Roseman didn’t return to Rose Manor until two days before the race. The servants were preparing for several days before they came, and Roseman himself arrived a day before his guests, to make sure all was in readiness. He brought Jack with him, leaving Wiederman behind. Did that mean Wiederman was more important to the running of his criminal empire? The race was evidently cause for a real house party, instead of a business meeting in disguise.

Having no reason to watch the man arrive, I made a point of not being in the entrance hall. Her husband wouldn’t be with him, so Lianna was avoiding Roseman too. But he sent for both of us to come to his study, soon after he came in.

“I’m having guests here for the next few days,” he announced as we entered. “Mistress Dalton knows to avoid being seen, and I’ll expect you to do the same, Sevenson. Though you may both come to dinner tonight.”

That “may” was pure formality, and I nodded acquiescence to his orders.

“That’s all.” Roseman reached for the stack of papers on his desk, dismissing us from his thoughts as well as his presence. He clearly thought us helpless, and with good reason. Even if I got the key, and figured out some way to break the hold of our collars, ’twould still not bring the man down. How we could manage that I still had no idea, but I did know what to do next—Roseman’s dinner with his guests would give me a chance to try for the key. And after I laid hands on it, I still had to get it delivered.

“So, how do you become invisible for days at a stretch?” I asked Lianna, as we departed the presence.

She grimaced, looking more relaxed away from the man she so hated. “Mostly I stay in my room. You’d better pick up a stack of books tonight, or you’ll be horribly bored. When I do go out, I dress myself as one of the lesser maids. The servants know who I am, of course, but they understand. And he’s usually only here a short time.”

“It sounds tedious,” I said. “Is there any way I could get to this race?” The orphan’s price had been paid when I delivered my plan, but I was terrified to leave its execution solely in their hands. ’Twas my scheme, and any disaster that befell the children would be my fault. If anything went wrong, I needed to be there in order to fix it.

“The estate where they’re holding it is twelve miles away,” said Liana. “I heard some of the gardeners lamenting that they couldn’t walk there and get back in time for work, even if they set out well before dawn.”

“Then I shall have to accompany Master Roseman.” Despite all the dangers, I felt more cheerful at the prospect of action, and my expression must have revealed this, for alarm flickered over Lianna’s face.

“He’d never agree. Even if you begged him to take you.”

“Oh, I won’t beg,” I said. “With a man as paranoid as Roseman, that would be fatal. But suspicious people are easy to manipulate. More than those who aren’t so suspicious, though they’d never believe it.”

“I suppose you learned that from your criminal squire?”

I had told her about Fisk.

“In a sense,” I said. “I learned it, because sometimes I have to manipulate Fisk. He’s as paranoid as Roseman—though in a nicer way.”

* * *

For all her nervousness Lianna was willing to assist, and that night at dinner she expressed a timid interest in going to see the race.

“I know your guests and Master Markham will be going in your carriages, but some of the upper servants plan to drive out in the wagon. I was wondering if I might go with them.”

Jack, who had taken Wiederman’s place at the table, raised a skeptical brow.

Roseman’s gaze turned to me. “What about you, Sevenson? Do you also want to go to the race? Fisk is still back in the city, you know.”

“I have no desire to go,” I said calmly, and went on eating a rather nice pheasant.

It took a bit more prodding on Roseman’s part, but by the meal’s end it had been agreed that I’d go with him to the race—dressed as one of his guards, so they could keep an eye on me—and thus prevent whatever I was planning to get up to here, in Roseman’s absence.

Honestly, he was easier to handle than Fisk.

But before I could profit from that small victory, I still had to fulfill Fisk’s request. ’Twas time to try for the key.

* * *

I frequently find that efforts intended to accomplish one thing end up accomplishing something else entirely. Roseman had ordered Lianna and me to stay out of sight while his guests were present…which meant no one would consider my absence for much of the day remarkable. And even in the country, a gentleman must dress for dinner.

Most of the company arrived in the early afternoon, and since the horse Roseman was running had already been sent to the estate where the race was to be held, he took them out to show off the rest of his stable. I had only to wait till his valet went down to share a cup of tea with the other servants before I sneaked into his room and secreted myself under the bed.

I had already ascertained that I had a clear view of the dials from there, as well as considering other possible hiding places in the room. The view from the wardrobe was better, but the odds of my being found in it were ridiculously high. In fact, beneath the bed was the only place I thought I might go undiscovered and still see the numbers on the dials—or at least the direction of their pointers—when the compartment that held the key was opened.

There were also were several boxes pushed beneath the bed, which held lightweight summer coats, some hats for which there was no more room in the wardrobe, and a set of matched dueling swords, all of which would further serve to hide me. Finding the space not only cramped, but somewhat dusty, I’d taken the time to clean it long before Roseman’s return.

Now, sliding into the narrow space between the boxes, making sure that none of them pushed from beneath the bed skirts to attract attention, I was glad I had. This was, mayhap, the one moment in my life when a sneeze might mean my death.

I was also glad I’d taken the precaution of hiding myself early in the afternoon, for Roseman’s valet kept popping in and out. He was a small man, with an irritating habit of whistling under his breath when he thought himself alone. Why he hadn’t mended his master’s coat and polished his boots earlier I didn’t know, but when he was present I didn’t dare even to turn my head.

In his occasional absence I could turn onto my back, or stomach, or side, and ease my cramping neck. After the first half-hour, lying on a hard wooden floor becomes increasingly uncomfortable. On the other hand, listening to the valet bustle about his work my pounding heartbeat gradually slowed, for he came and went without ever suspecting my presence.

When dinnertime drew near, I seized on one of his errands to position myself in the way it was most comfortable for me to see the dials. I’d had plenty of time to arrange the boxes and the bed skirt so I had a clear view of that section of the wall.

But the sound of the Rose’s footsteps set my heart pounding.

“The maroon velvet, I think,” he told his man.

“With the gold lace collar, sir?”

“No, that’s too fancy for a country dinner. The shirt with pointelle lace, collar and cuffs.”

Did that mean he wasn’t going to wear jewelry? My every aching muscle screamed in protest.

They went on to discuss britches and stockings at most tedious length, while the valet brushed his master’s hair and assisted him into his clothing. Finally, Roseman said, “Looks good. A ring do you think?”

“The emerald, sir? A bit of color, to brighten up dark brown and gold?”

“Won’t that be a bit much, for the country?”

No it won’t!
I thought at him, as hard as I could.
You need to show off for the neighbors, intimidate your guests, display how rich you are…

“Well, sir, you are a great man,” the valet said.

I could have kissed him.

Roseman laughed. “All right. The emerald ring.”

I’d expected the valet to get the jewelry, but ’twas Roseman himself who went to the wall, pulled off the concealing rosettes…and stood right in front of the dials, blocking my view as he turned them.

The section of paneling that swung open was below the dials, and I had only a moment, as he bent to sort though the jewel boxes in the hidden compartment, to note the places all three pointers rested. Then he closed the door, turned the dials again, and even replaced the rosettes before returning to let his valet put the final touches on his attire. I closed my eyes, ignoring the valet’s fawning flattery, fixing the location of all three dials in my mind—which might have been harder, if it hadn’t struck me to think of them as times on a clock face.

Not long after that Roseman departed, and I lay on my back listing to his man putter about, putting away brushes and the stockings that hadn’t been chosen.

Finally,
finally
he left.

Mayhap I should have waited. He could have returned at any moment. But the thought of Roseman returning to this room, of creeping out as he slept atop me—which I had once considered an acceptable possibility—was now too much to be borne.

I squirmed from beneath the bed, replaced the boxes I’d shoved aside, and dragged myself to my feet, my joints creaking like an old grandfather’s.

My fingers shook as I pulled the rosettes off their dials. I’d have little chance to conceal myself if anyone came in, and I dared not open the door to try to hear footsteps. My best hope now was speed.

The first dial had rested at 12:04 or mayhap 12:05—’twas hard to be precise, but I turned the pointer to that position, ignoring the number it settled on.

The second dial had been set at 12:45 precisely. I was sure of that one. Almost.

The third dial I turned to 12:36…and nothing happened.

I reached down and pressed my hand against the panel that had opened trying to shake it—it felt like trying to shake part of the wall.

I tried the third pointer at 12:37, and then 12:35, to no avail.

My nerves screaming for haste, I turned it back to 12:36, and turned the first dial to 12:05, then changed the last dial back and forth, clicking though all the positions I thought it might have occupied. Nothing. Straining my memory, trying to figure out how my position on the floor might have affected my view, I turned the first dial to 12:06 and tried the last dial in several positions again… and on the third try, my straining ears heard a faint click from the wall below.

I had to press on the narrow edge of the panel to one side of the pivot hinge to swing it open. Inside lay a nice collection of gentleman’s jewelry, though not as much as I’d have expected from someone as rich as Roseman—mayhap he kept the bulk of his finery in town. I got to see most of the collection, because the glowing key lay at the very back, with no more concealment than the clutter of cases that filled the compartment.

It slipped into my pocket like the lethal secret it was, and my pulse hammered as I closed the door and spun the dials. I had no memory of where they’d pointed before I turned them, and I could only hope Roseman wouldn’t remember either.

I strode quietly over to the door and pressed my ear to it. I heard nothing, but through a plank this thick that meant little. I eased the door open a crack and peered out—the space I could see was empty, but the hallway on the other side wasn’t visible.

Boldness would serve best now.

I swung open the door and stepped out, casually, as if I’d every right to be in that room. As I closed it behind myself, I glanced down the other half of the corridor…and my knees weakened when I found it empty.

With all the guests at dinner, that was the most likely outcome. And despite the fact that no one could know where I’d been, I scuttled down the corridor to the servant’s stair. By the time I reached my own room I was drenched in sweat, and breathing as if I’d run a mile…but I had the key in my possession.

If
Roseman had no need for it,
if
he didn’t notice its absence,
if
he didn’t notice that those dials weren’t in the position he’d left them…then the dangerous part began.

* * *

The local lord who owned the estate where the race was to be held was no friend to Roseman, or so I gathered from the servants’ commentary. I wondered at that, till I realized that such an arrangement would divert suspicions of foul play. The agreement of the owners was that the horses would be housed here, fed the same food and given the same treatment, for a week before the race—mostly so that, if one of the horses was magica, the other grooms would have time to notice. The estate also had a long race course around their broad pastures, and stabling to house the horses that were to compete.

All the local gentry, and most of the country folk who lived nearby, had gathered to watch the event. Stands had been erected, as if for a tourney, and the rest of the crowd spread out on each side of the line that would both start and finish the course. Beyond the rope that held the crowd back, the inner part of the course was lined with blue flags, and the outer with red. If a horse passed outside one of those flags, it had to go back and pass inside it or be disqualified—and sober-looking judges stood by each flag, particularly in areas where the course passed out of sight.

Not being part of the gentry, or even a real guard, I went with the rest of Roseman’s guardsmen to stand beside the part of the course the horses would race past on their way to the finish. We’d have a poor view of the start, and almost as poor a view of the end, but we’d be able to watch them jockey for position in this final stretch.