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Authors: The Scoundrel

BOOK: Claire Delacroix
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“It is only a piece of wood, Evangeline,” I reminded her. “It might not even be a genuine relic.”

“That does not matter!” she said with unexpected ferocity. “My father believed it to be genuine and that was sufficient.”

“Evangeline…”

“You stole more, far more, than a mere piece of wood. You stole the fortune that had blessed Inverfyre, you stole the unity that secured the rule of my family, you stole my father’s pride and confidence, you stole my mother’s faith.”

“You know that this cannot be responsible for the impotence of the wild birds…”

She jabbed a finger into my chest, driving her argument home, but I dared not retreat further. “Worse, your theft sowed dissent in Inverfyre, and launched the slow rot that has brought us to our current sorry state.”

“Evangeline, I…”

“To sustain his suzerainty, my father was compelled to lie about his possession of the
Titulus
. He had always been a man of honor, a man upon whose word one could rely. After he lied, my mother never looked at him the same way again. Indeed, he never viewed himself the same way. And the people smelled that there was rot at the core, even if they knew not what it was.”

“But…”

“You can spew no pretty words to heal this wound. Be gone. Be gone afore I say too much.”

And the lady turned her back upon me. I raised my finger, intending to argue the matter further, but a bird cried at close proximity.

A white gyrfalcon landed on the window sill, the bell upon her ankles tinkling with her movements.

 

* * *

 

“Aphrodite!” Evangeline cried with delight. Both me and our argument were dismissed.

I was not disappointed, you may be assured, that she was one to give vent to her temper and then be shed of its burden. My brother is like this, as was my father, and I suspect it is far more healthy than those who fester a slow burn for years and years.

Evangeline eased toward the bird and I assumed she would capture it anew for her father. She began to sing to it, to my surprise, even as she donned a leather glove and coaxed it to take her wrist. The bird was disinclined to do her bidding, but the song seemed to be an allure that could not be denied. It reluctantly stepped to her gloved fist as Evangeline continued to sing.

It was a stunning creature, its large-pupiled gaze alien and wild. It was so large that it could only be the one loosed from Fergus’ fist in the hall. I was all too aware of the sharpness of its talons and beak, the prowess with which it could stalk and kill. Indeed, some deity had designed this bird to be a perfect creature for hunting.

Yet Evangeline was unafraid of it. I edged closer, intrigued.

“Why do you sing?” I dared to ask.

She granted me a hot glance, as if annoyed to find me still present, then deigned to explain. “It is her feeding song.”

“I do not understand.”

Evangeline sang another verse before replying. “Each falcon has a song which she is taught to associate with fresh meat offered from the hand. It is the sole way to tame them. Aphrodite remembers her song.”

“You sing the same song each time it is fed?”

“She,” Evangeline corrected even as she nodded. “All hunting birds of merit are female.” I chose not to explore this particular detail. “She associates the song with food, thus will always allow herself to be captured when she hears the son.”

I was impressed that a wild bird could be so astute as this. I had known hounds less readily trained. As she sang again, Evangeline untied the bird’s jesses and removed the bell.

“But you have no meat for her,” I observed belatedly. “Will she not be dismayed to have no treat with the song?”

Evangeline’s smile flashed. “I have a better gift.” To my astonishment, she cast the bell and jesses to the ground, then leaned out the window and jerked her fist upward so that the bird would take flight.

Unfettered.

Aphrodite needed no second invitation. Her great wings unfurled and flapped with a vigor that lifted her away from Inverfyre’s tower with a trio of beats. She never looked back. Indeed, her cry was one of triumph and pleasure, if a bird could be imagined to feel such sentiments.

“What are you doing?” I sprang to the window, but Evangeline laughed with delight.

“I am setting Aphrodite free.” She pointed skyward, her features alight. “Look at her flight! She is so powerful, so graceful. Look at her! She knows her destination.” Indeed, the bird wheeled and turned like an arrow, flying north with uncommon speed.

I was woefully confused. “But I thought you traded in falcons here.”

“Indeed we do.”

“Then why…”

Evangeline turned to confront me, folding her arms across her chest even as she smiled at my confusion. “No falconer of sense takes a bird after its first moult. Aphrodite was sent as a gift, a poor gift, for she was captured after at least two moults. She knows her wild ways too well to be trained to hunt at a falconer’s command.”

“Where is her destination, then?”

Evangeline looked out the window and I imagined that she could yet discern the bird. “I do not know. She has mated already, it is clear, for she has been anxious to meet her partner.”

I did not understand and my expression must have revealed as much.

Evangeline smiled. “Falcons are noble birds, possessed of admirable traits. They take but one mate for their entire life. Each year, peregrine and tiercel meet at the same nest to breed. And each year, they part after their young are raised, to hunt alone until spring comes again.” Evangeline met my gaze steadily. “Aphrodite has bred at least once - she has found her partner. It would be beyond cruel to deny her urge to mate by keeping her captive.”

“But she was captive, upon Fergus’ fist. Surely Fergus understood this?”

Her lips thinned. “Fergus knows nothing of falcons.”

“And listens to no counsel,” I guessed, though Evangeline did not reply.

She turned away and crossed the room, keeping her back to me. “I do not know how she came to be unfettered, but it was good fortune that she came to my window. None other would have defied Fergus.” It was curious that she called her father by his Christian name, but I assumed he was indulgent of his daughter, as men with beautiful children oft are. She glanced quickly at me, her expression unreadable. “Have you not departed yet?”

I was not prepared to leave without a parting token from the lady. I coughed delicately. “I must confess that I had a part in Aphrodite’s timely escape.”

Evangeline turned to study me, the chill melting from her gaze. “Why?”

“I needed a distraction to ascend to your chamber.” I bowed with studied elegance. “I can only be gratified that my unwitting release of the bird pleased you.”

Evangeline’s lips parted but before I could decide whether she meant to curse me or kiss me - perhaps she too was undecided - there was a shout from the corridor outside the door.

“Aphrodite was here!” Fergus cried. “Find her!”

We both froze at the echo of approaching footsteps.

“Quick!” Evangeline seized my sleeve with brutal force. She shoved me toward a door I had not glimpsed earlier, one hidden beyond the pool of light cast by the candles. She pushed me unceremoniously from behind, urging me to greater speed. “You must leave and you must leave this way. No one can find you here.”

Her fervor amused me, especially given her earlier tirade. I halted and smiled, pausing to catch her chin in my hand. “So you would protect me, despite your supposed animosity. Your barbed words do not come from the heart, after all.” I bent to kiss her but she pushed me away.

“Fool!” She shook off my grip, though flushed prettily. “You see nothing beyond your own pleasure.”

I winked. “I would see to yours, as well. Hide me, Evangeline, for the night is yet young.”

“I thought you were one to protect your own hide first.”

“Of what import is that?”

She smiled coolly. “My husband will not be gladdened to find you in his place in my bed.”

I gaped at her. “Your husband?”

“Do not imagine that I save you, Gawain Lammergeier.” She sternly shook her finger at me. “I protect myself. We all know it is the woman who pays the price for adultery.”

I still could not accept her claim. “But you have no spouse! If you had a husband, he would have sat with you at the board, beside you or your father…”

“My father is dead. Do you not recall what he looked like, the man you betrayed and deceived?”

I did not, but I dared not admit as much before her quelling gaze. It seemed I had erred yet again.

The lady’s dark brows arched high in feigned surprise. “Perhaps you noticed Fergus, my father’s chosen heir? He was the one who lifted the
Titulus
high in the chapel.”

I recoiled from the implication of her words. “But he is old! You cannot be his bride!”

Her eyes narrowed. “I am his bride.”

“But this is a travesty!” The very idea revolted me and I guessed from her expression that she too found her marriage less than pleasing.

A shred of chivalry awakened in me, for I knew that I could save this lovely lady from her fate. “You cannot be condemned to bed that old man. This cannot be your desire.”

“My desire is of no import.” Her words were cool but already I understood that she hid behind a mask of measured calm when she was most agitated.

“Evangeline, do not be a fool! Do not discard what rises between us! Can you not see how circumstance favors us? Come away with me…”

“You must go!”

“You cannot wish to be wed to this man. Leave him! Come away with me. I know what you truly desire and I will ensure that you are happy.”

“You know nothing about me,” she said savagely.

I planted my feet against the floor. “I know that I will not leave without you.”

A knock came at her door and Evangeline glanced back, fear in her magnificent eyes. I was tempted then, sorely tempted to stay and have a reckoning from this aged husband who had taught such a lady to fear him, tempted to fight for her with my fists.

I had never felt such an urge before. The lady wakened some madness in my veins, of that there could be no doubt.

Evangeline caught at my sleeve. “Go now, or have my blood upon your hands!”

“For a kiss I will depart.”

She made a vexed sound beneath her breath and would have pressed her lips chastely against mine, but I kissed her soundly. I loved how she made a frustrated sound, then leaned against me, as if reluctant to succumb. But succumb she did, only the pounding of fists upon her portal forcing us breathlessly to part.

The sight of her reddened lips and sparkling eyes made my heart clench tightly. “Remember me,” I bade her, for some foolish reason.

Sadness clouded her lovely features before her expression set to stone again. “I have already forgotten you.”

Because she had to. I understood now the burden that she bore, but still was frustrated by her insistence upon clinging to it. I offered a hand, she shook her head with resolve. I held her gaze for a moment longer, until the men pounded their fists upon her door. Only when she left me, crossing the floor with purpose, did I do as she had bidden me and duck through the low portal.

I had a moment to be heartily discontent, to be sorely disgruntled at Fergus’ lusty greeting in the chamber behind me and Evangeline’s demure reply. It was no more than a moment, before I perceived that once again, I had been tricked.

I was not alone.

 

* * *

 

They were waiting for me in the darkness. Too late I realized where the second door upon the left of the corridor led - it led to this dark chamber, no greater than the height of a man in any direction.

It was occupied by three men who encircled me like hungry predators.

“What manner of guest troubles the Lady of Inverfyre in her chambers?” growled one. I recognized Tarsuinn’s voice, though it was now filled with menace.

I knew a relief that weakened my knees.

“Well met, my comrades!” I whispered gaily. “Shall we seek out another cup of ale?”

“We do not know you,” Niall said grimly.

“What madness is this? It is me, your old comrade, Connor MacDoughall. Perhaps you do not recognize me in this light.”

Tarsuinn chuckled. “You are not Connor.”

“But…”

Dour shook his head. “Connor would never buy an ale for another, even if he had all the riches of Croesus.”

“Do you think us fools?” Tarsuinn demanded. “Do you think us so dim of wit that we cannot recognize our own friends?”

“But the horse…”

“Never seen the nag,” Dour insisted. “But I shall tell you this: whatever you paid for him, it was too much.”

“The lady bade us watch for strangers,” Niall murmured, his words menacing. “And that if a blond man appeared alone, we should feign knowledge of him. It appears that she was expecting you.”

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