By Love Unveiled (32 page)

Garett hardly heard that last phrase. So Hampden hadn’t told the king anything about Garett’s earlier suspicions of Mina. That was something at least.

“Hampden ought to keep his observations to himself once in a while,” Garett said, easily falling into the part Hampden had unwittingly given him.

“Come now, Falkham, you ought to bring her to court. Let us all have a look at her. Or is that why you’re here?”

Garett met Charles’s questioning gaze with a steady stare. “No, Your Majesty. This time I’ve come to ask a favor. It concerns someone who interests us both.”

Charles strode back to the window and looked out with a frown. “Your uncle.”

“Yes.”

A worried expression crossed the king’s face. “I don’t know what more I could do about him. You’ve done quite well on your own. His reputation is in a shambles, he’s badly in debt, and he’s lost many of his powerful friends. No one dares champion him against you.”

Garett’s grim smile acknowledged the king’s words. “There’s still the matter of his involvement in the attempt on your life.”

“Yes, there is that, isn’t there?” Charles narrowed his gaze speculatively.

Careful, man, here’s the tricky part.
“Have you wrung a confession from that physician? Has he implicated my uncle?”

With a sigh, Charles shook his head. “He insists he’s innocent. But they haven’t used torture yet—I’m loath to allow such barbaric methods for a man of rank.”

Garett hid the relief that washed through him. Mina’s father still lived and was apparently unharmed. Until
Garett had heard it from the king himself, he couldn’t be certain of it. “But you’re convinced he’s guilty.”

“I don’t know. I’ve always had this instinct that he speaks the truth. Still, everyone else believes him guilty. Or else his daughter.”

“Daughter?” Garett asked, playing dumb.

“He had a daughter who prepared his medicines.”

“And what of her?”

A look of scathing contempt crossed the king’s face. “A silly twit, evidently, though I would never have guessed it when I first met her. The news of his arrest so alarmed her she threw herself into the Thames and drowned.”

“Silly twit, indeed.” Garett fought to keep relief from showing on his face. Thank God no one yet suspected Marianne was alive. “Do you think she had a part in putting the poison in his remedies?”

“ ’Tis possible, I suppose. It’s very odd, though. Sir Henry insists she gave them immediately into his keeping and they never left his hands. He could have lied about it, or even blamed it on her now that she’s dead, but he hasn’t. He just seems bewildered by the whole matter. Of course, I suppose she could have planted the poison herself, then killed herself when she realized she was to be discovered. Who knows? But I can’t believe she planned alone to kill me.”

“That seems doubtful indeed,” Garett agreed with a calm in his voice that he didn’t feel. He wondered what the king would think if he knew the truth about Marianne’s supposed death.

“But what favor do you wish me to grant?”

Garett met the king’s stare with the most innocuous one he could muster. “I wish to question the prisoner myself.”

Frank surprise showed on Charles’s face. “Why?”

“Remember, Your Majesty, what services I performed for you in the past. I was quite adept at gleaning information from unwilling participants.”

The king’s face clouded. “Yes, you were. I always wondered about your methods.”

“I assure you I never did anything unsavory.”

Charles studied him a moment. “No, I don’t suppose you did. You manage to intimidate a person just by turning that scowl of yours on them.”

Garett bit back a smile. “Except for Your Majesty, of course.”

“Of course,” Charles remarked dryly.

“If you’ll permit me to question this Sir Henry, perhaps I can be more successful at dragging a confession from him.”

“Or an admission that your uncle was his fellow conspirator,” Charles said with a lift of his eyebrow.

“Yes.”

Charles rubbed his chin. “I believe if anyone could do it, you could,” he murmured, half to himself.

Garett schooled his features into nonchalance as he awaited the king’s answer.

After a long pause, Charles shrugged. “Well, then. I suppose it cannot hurt to have you attempt it.”

Garett felt the tension leave his limbs. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

He remained standing in respectful silence while the king called in his Gentleman of the Bedchamber and commanded that Garett be brought to the Tower to visit the prisoner. When the men came who were to accompany Garett, he took his leave of the king, wondering how long it would be before he saw His Majesty again. Then he thrust that thought from his head and followed the men out of Whitehall.

Throughout the long ride across London, Garett focused on the more difficult task at hand—speaking with Sir Henry. When they reached the imposing group of towers, a sudden cold fear assailed Garett—the same fear that had eaten at him from the time he’d discovered who Mina really was.

The chilly corridors were more forbidding than he remembered. The snorting and roars of wild beasts filtered through the halls, because part of the Tower was still used to exhibit wild animals—bears, lions, and all manner of exotic beasts brought from England’s many colonies. Hearing the noises darkened Garett’s mood considerably. No matter what he discovered, no matter what she’d done, he’d never allow his gypsy princess to be forced to lie in this place. Never!

Then they were at Sir Henry’s cell. The turnkey opened the door, and Garett entered. At least the room was spacious and well provisioned. Then he caught sight of the prisoner, who stood with his back to Garett, staring out the window at the sun glinting off the Thames.

Garett could tell the man had once been well
proportioned, for his clothes hung loosely on him. Now he was thin to the point of being gaunt. His hair was completely white, yet he wasn’t stooped with age. He stood quite proudly in his worn doublet and breeches.

Garett motioned to the turnkey and guards to step outside the cell. They obeyed, the turnkey closing the door behind Garett.

“Sir Henry?” Garett asked.

The man turned, and Garett had to force himself not to react, for his hazel eyes were those of his daughter.

They now filled with a hostile defensiveness Garett recognized all too well. “So they’ve sent another to torment me, have they?” Sir Henry muttered. “And a good strong young soldier by the look of you. Have they decided ’tis time to use more forceful methods of persuasion?”

Garett was still recovering from the shock of being faced by a man so like the woman he cared for. “Nay,” he choked out, unable to stop staring at the man.

Sir Henry grew more testy. “Well, sir, may I at least know the name of my tormentor?”

“Garett Lockwood.”

Sir Henry frowned, seeming to search his mind for where he’d heard the name before.

“The Earl of Falkham,” Garett added.

Sir Henry’s gaze shot up to rest on Garett’s face. He scrutinized him with a keen eye. “Sir Pitney’s nephew. I’ve heard of you from the gossip among my jailors. You’re the one who’s put Sir Pitney to rout, so they say.”

“Yes.”

“Good for you. I always hated that ne’er-do-well.”

Garett remained silent, pondering that statement.

“You’ve been given my house, haven’t you?” Sir Henry asked with a certain challenging bluntness.

Garett’s eyes narrowed. “ ’Twas my house from the beginning. I’m the legal heir. The house should never have been sold to you.”

“That may be. But we thought you were dead.” Sir Henry shrugged. “In any case, it matters little. If by some miracle my innocence is proven, you’re welcome to the estate. I prefer my quiet house here in London. Falkham House was the joy of my wife and daughter.” The man’s expression altered, stark pain shining in his eyes. “It was to be my daughter’s legacy. But with her dead, I see little point in fighting for it.”

Garett moved closer to the older man and took his arm, leading him away from the door. “Suppose I were to tell you that your daughter isn’t dead.”

Sir Henry’s face betrayed nothing, but his eyes lit for the merest instant. Then he frowned. “Is this a new form of torment, my lord? Tantalize me with hope, then dash my hopes against the rocks? If so, it will not suffice. I know she’s dead. They told me that the first day I was arrested.”

“Ah, but did they tell you how she died? By drowning herself in the Thames? Now ask yourself, would Mina ever do something so foolish as to kill herself?”

Sir Henry snorted and shook his head. “I know, I know, I couldn’t believe it myself. Mina would never—”
He broke off, then dug his fingers into Garett’s arm. “How do you know my daughter’s nickname?”

“Her aunt Tamara calls her that.” Garett met the gaze of his lover’s father. “It stands for Lumina, her middle name. Your wife, the gypsy, gave it to her. It suits her well. With that golden hair and gentle smile, she is like a light.”

Sir Henry’s face turned ashen. He jerked away from Garett, moving to sit on his narrow, hard bed in stunned silence. He closed his eyes, then opened them again to fix Garett with a disbelieving stare. “Is my daughter truly alive then?”

“Aye. The tale of her drowning was a ruse your wife’s sister used to help Mina escape London and the King’s Guard.”

Sir Henry studied Garett with an intense gaze. “And how did you come to know of her?”

Now came the difficult part. “She returned to Lydgate, and I took her prisoner.” He said it coldly, deliberately failing to mention how much time had passed before he’d discovered who she was.

Sir Henry buried his face in his hands. “Then she is a prisoner of the king now as well.”

“Nay.”

Sir Henry’s head shot up. “She isn’t in the Tower, imprisoned as I am?”

Here was where Garett had to school himself to be hard, to refrain from showing any emotion. “Not yet. The king still believes her dead. So her life—and her freedom—are in my hands. You have the power to give
them both back to her. I’ll arrange for her to flee to France, and I’ll make certain she’s left there with sufficient money, if only you’ll tell the truth about the attempt on the king’s life. Tell me who your fellow conspirators are, and I’ll set her free.”

Sir Henry stiffened, his face reflecting his pain, and Garett felt a stab of guilt. Irrationally he wanted to assure the man he could never hurt Marianne. But this was his last chance to learn the truth. Garett had to use the only thing the poor old man would respond to.

“Is she unharmed?” the man asked in a faltering voice.

Guilt gripped Garett anew, a different guilt this time. “Yes. She’s been well provided for and treated with the courtesy befitting her station.” He prayed God didn’t strike him dead for that lie.

Sir Henry released a long-drawn breath. “She’s well,” he whispered, half to himself.

Garett stepped closer. “She’ll continue to be well as long as you tell me the truth. Who planned your attempt on His Majesty’s life? Who prepared the poisons? Was it my uncle?”

Sir Henry stood, rather unsteadily, then met Garett’s piercing stare with great dignity. “You, my lord, are a reprehensible snake. I knew your father briefly. He would have cringed to witness his son use such low methods.”

That statement struck Garett to the heart, for he knew Sir Henry spoke the truth. And though he could justify his actions to himself, saying he couldn’t protect Mina
without knowing the whole truth, he sought that knowledge for partially selfish reasons. Because he wished once and for all to have proof he could trust her.

Suddenly his manipulation of Mina’s father seemed too unsavory to bear. What’s more, it was pointless. No matter what his methods revealed, he could never believe in his heart that Mina had conspired with his uncle against the king, even if Sir Henry claimed she’d made the poisons herself. Her innocence, her kind heart, cried out against such a deed. She truly was a light in the darkness that had so long shrouded his soul. How could he question the purity of that light when it shone before him with every sweet smile?

In that moment, Garett knew he could never believe wrong of her.

Sir Henry seemed oblivious to Garett’s turmoil. “My lord, I wish to God I could accept the terms of your nasty bargain, for then I could save my daughter. But I can only beg you to find some mercy in that cold heart of yours. Even to save her life, I can’t tell you who made the attempt on the king’s life, for I don’t know. ’Twas not I.”

His sincerity filled Garett with even more guilt. Garett turned to hide his turmoil. How could he ever have doubted her innocence? He’d been ten kinds of a fool for not recognizing that the love she offered could only have come from an innocent heart. If he’d listened to his own heart more, he might have seen it sooner and saved them both countless days of pain.

“My lord?” Sir Henry asked in alarm at Garett’s continued silence. “What will you do now?”

Garett faced the father of the woman he loved. “Whatever I can to prove your innocence, of course. And Mina’s.”

Sir Henry’s mouth thinned into a line, showing his blatant distrust of Garett. “Why would you strive to prove our innocence?”

Garett said the only thing he could think of. The truth. “Because I love your daughter, sir.”

There. The truth was out for all the world to hear, and Garett didn’t care what the world thought of it.

Apparently Sir Henry had a great deal to think of it. Amazement soon gave way to speculation. Then he assumed a stance not much different from the one Garett’s father had used when Garett as a child had committed some grievous wrong. He stood with his bony arms crossed, his jaw firm, and his narrowing eyes intended to intimidate.

“Just how long have you kept my daughter prisoner, my lord?”

For the first time since his childhood, Garett felt true shame. He didn’t regret what he’d done, but he also couldn’t help but recognize how Mina’s father would regard it. He swallowed, suddenly wondering what on earth he could tell an irate father. He could lie, but eventually Sir Henry would learn the truth if Garett was successful in proving Sir Henry’s innocence. Still, telling the truth presented another set of unique problems.