Coins and Daggers (5 page)

Turning away, Ulric pivoted to reach for
another damp cloth when he caught his gaol guard’s stare. The man
quickly lowered it.

“What?”

“N-nothing, milord.”

Ulric damped the cloth and placed it gently
across the girl’s forehead. Sighing, he resigned into an arm chair
and scratched the back of his neck. “Speak freely.”

“Sir?”

“I said, speak freely because I fear that I
feel far more comfortable hearing your piece than have you gawking
at me from across the room all afternoon.”

The guard remained silent for another minute
before releasing another word. “The girl. She said her name
was--”

“I heard her.” Running a hand through his
hair, Ulric frowned deeply. Of course, he’d heard her. He’d have to
had been deaf not to hear all that shouting while he’d momentarily
stepped out of the room to take a breath. The wench had woken just
an instant from her stupor only to scream a thread of
expletives--none of which were expected to even cross a woman’s
thoughts--which happened to include one short confession of her
name, before falling into unconsciousness again.

An exceptional
name too, if he were to admit. An exceptional,
contrary
name.

“M-may I speak freely, milord?”

“Did I not say so a moment ago?”

The guard nodded briefly and took one
cautious step, hands clasped behind him. He was a tall strapping
fellow, possibly only an inch or so above Ulric’s own height. Curly
brown hair framed a box-shaped face that seemed as if the frown,
currently upon it, was set in granite.

“I have met up with thieves many a times,
milord. But never many who were wenches and even so, none ever so
bold. Do you believe the lass to be sick in the head, milord?”

A deep chuckle sprung from Ulric’s lips as
he fully faced the guard now. The situation was not at all funny
but he somehow could not contain the urge to laugh at it all.

“I believe she’s lost all her good sense and
replaced it with raw stupidity.” He glanced at the slender figure
and shook his head. “And by law, she should have been hanged in the
town’s square no later than daybreak.”

“Milord.” The guard kept his head bowed as
he spoke, his tone neither disagreeing or agreeing.

Turning on his heels, Ulric St. Rosso gazed
finally upon the room his mother had loved so much. It had been her
hideaway. If no one else knew of that, then he did. Lady Katarin
St. Rosso had been a lovely woman, one of the best. A strong
presence and a dear mother and wife. But his father’s death had
broken her, torn her to bits that she had lost the radiance
everyone had adored her for. She had truly died that day, if one
were to contemplate it; only existing a few more months after to
join her husband in a place where it is hoped all sorrow would be
lost.

Sunlight barely made its way through the
drawn draperies at the windows, specks of said beams landing
scattered across the floor and sheets. Ulric closed his eyes for
the briefest of moments and inhaled.

The push of the door took him from his
moment of thought. The kitchen-girl, Anyla walked quickly, a tray
laden with food in her hands.

“Milord,” she said, quite breathlessly.
“Milady and Sir Edwin. Th-they have returned just now.”

“Damn it.” Ulric strode for the door. “You
two are to remain here and call for me when the girl wakes.” And
before leaving, he paused just a moment to glance at the guard.
“And what are you called?”

“Gilgallon, milord.”

“Gilgallon, it is then.”

Ulric marched down the hall, heart hammering
as he made to seek out his friend as quickly as possible. What he
was going to do with the girl, he hadn’t a single clue but he
needed to find one immediately. He was halfway through disembarking
the staircase, which led straight down into the front hall, when
the large main door came shoving in along with his sister’s
voice.

“We shall have to try again on the morrow,
Edwin,” she was saying. “My goodness, I hardly thought it would be
so difficult to find a good maid.”

“Tomorrow?” His friend’s tone was pleasant
as always but if Ulric knew his sister as well as he thought, then
she must have picked up on the slight exasperation carefully hidden
within it. “Are you sure you’re up for it?”

“Why Edwin, if you find it too tiresome, I
can always try asking Bryce even though--”

“Edwin would be more than happy to accompany
you again, Ryia.” Ulric quickly moved down the steps and flashed a
smile at his wind-blown sister. “How was town?”

“Terribly busy--”

“And more like a burning furnace, if you ask
me,” Edwin said, shrugging out of his coat. “I’d fully expected it
to rain this afternoon.”

“Edwin is a terrible traveler, is all,” Lady
Ryia said, waving a playful hand in his direction. “Took us the
quickest ten minutes I could ever remember and the people are
downright joyous. To think I was worried about them still hating me
after all these years.”

Ulric shook his head. “They never hated you,
sister. It is I that they loathe. So do relax yourself. How about
you ring for some refreshments while I borrow Edwin for a few
minutes, mm?”

Lady Ryia looked between the two men and
rolled her eyes. “I know quite well when I am being dismissed,
brother, so no need for the smiles and good manners. We all know
you are not very good at them.” She turned on her dainty little
feet, nose in the air. “I shall need to speak with you sometime,
though. Preferably before dinner.”

“
I
refuse
to take that woman on another blasted maid hunt.” At least
Edwin had the decency to wait until
that woman
was out of
earshot to say such.

Grinning, Ulric patted him on the shoulder.
“Thought you’d have fun.”

Edwin scowled and shrugged off his arm. “I’m
happy to see you find this amusing.”

“Hardly. But I need to speak to you on a
serious matter. In private.”

Brow arched, his friend paused in his
tracks. “How serious?”

“Let’s go for a ride, shall we?”

* * *

T
he meadows enveloping
the eastern borders of the estate gave a wondrous scenery of lush
vegetation, and the infamous ruins of the very first primary house
of Chastelle’s lordship. The structure, that was built some century
earlier, was believed to have been set on fire by a allegedly
wronged serfman desperate for revenge. Luckily, no one had faced
the tragic demise a fire was known to bring and Chastelle’s heir
had survived to make the estate what it was today, thriving in
wealth and prosperity.

“It’s been a while since we’ve come here.”
Edwin shifted on his mount, a black gelding he’d favored for
years.

Running a staying palm along his dapple-gray
stallion’s neck, Ulric nodded absently, taking in the cool fresh
air. “It certainly brings back memories, does it not?”

“I suppose. But I wonder why you brought us
all the way out here now. Is the matter we are to discuss so
serious then?”

“Not entirely.” Hands tightening on the
reins, he guided the horse a few paces towards a nearby tree and
dismounted. He then waited for Edwin to follow suit before
continuing. “I placed the girl in the Odessa Room.”

“Whatever for?”

“I went to the gaol shortly after you left
and found her out cold on the floor.”

His friend came up before him and sighed.
“What do you intend to do with her?”

“Well her fever has departed, for one. I
left the guard and a kitchen girl in the chamber to look after
her.”

“This is absolute madness. You are aware of
that, aren’t you? Your sister in staying in the same house. She
could easily stumble upon her.”

“I can handle Ryia.”

“Can you? I spent only a few hours with her
today and I assure you, she is definitely changed. I doubt she
cares anymore about those ‘rules’ you’ve created years ago.”

Ulric frowned, the heavy breeze batting
against his face. “I cannot take her to the gallows now.”

“I hardly thought you would have--”

“And I cannot keep her in the gaol
either.”

“I really do not think keeping her in the
Odessa Room is sensible--”

“Which is where you come in.”

Edwin gaped. “Me?”

“Yes. I believe you are right about Ryia.
She has grown far more prudent and I think that is owed to an
underlying curiosity that I wish she had not developed. The girl
will recover soon and by then I doubt the Odessa Room will be able
to contain her.”

“What do you suggest then? You said so
yourself, she’s just a thieving wench. She’d never pass for
anything else.”

“She doesn’t have to. It’ll work out just
fine. Ryia will be leaving in a week’s time and by then I fully
intend on getting rid of the wench.”

Edwin’s eyes
narrowed on his friend as an idea came to him. Before giving it
much thought, the words sprung from his lips in rapid succession.
“Ryia
is
in dire need of a lady’s maid.”

Ulric shook his head. “That would never
work. The girl is starved, not in loss of her memory. I doubt she’d
be convinced to pretend to be a maid until my sister leaves.”

Edwin grinned and gave his friend a slap on
the back. “Now that part, I can handle.”

“How so?”

“Persuasion, Ulric. I’m sure there’s
something she wants.”

“To rob me blind, that’s what.”

“Mayhap you should ask her.”

“
Or
mayhap,
you
should.” Ulric turned away and shook
his head. “The last time I attempted conversation with the girl, I
was tempted to snap her pretty little neck. She’s positively
irritating, I tell you.”

“
Pretty
little neck?”

Ulric’s frown deepened as he turned,
noticing a mocking grin on his friend’s face. A clenched fist could
easily rectify that but he figured the last thing either of them
needed was bruised faces, and an interrogation by his beloved
sister. “Just do what you need to do, Edwin.”

“
Of course.”
Edwin reached for the reins on his gelding, the mirth bubbling in
his voice. “I wouldn’t want you to have to wring that
pretty
little neck, lest you wish to see that
pretty
little neck again.”

“Sod off, will you?” Ulric shook his head at
Edwin’s jesting and mounted his horse. “I need to go re-pen a few
entries before I’m to face Ryia again. God knows what she wants to
talk about now.”

“Good luck with that. I should warn you...”
Edwin hooked his foot into the stirrup and reached up, taking his
seat across the saddle. The corners of his mouth trembled with
impending laughter. “Your dear sister has also become quite the
talker.”

Six

“
T
here...” Miss Darcott
traced cool drops of scented liquid along Audelia’s neck and
smiled. “All done now. Madame de Lucci shall soon be in to see
you.”

“
What is this place?” The question had
come out of mere curiosity, as she turned to appraise the richly
furnished room. Everything looked regal, from the finely crafted
armchairs to the masterly sculpted bed, covered in the most
exceptional sheets she had ever seen.

The woman whom she had known to be mostly
tense in nature, pivoted around the room with a broad smile on her
round face. “Remarkable, isn’t it?” She even bent to sniff on a
bountiful bouquet and sighed dreamily.“This is Dextrem House,
child. A truly prestigious place and you ought to be honored to be
invited here.”

Audelia smiled, gaze still sweeping the room
and thoroughly enthralled with its beauty. “But...why me? I do not
know Lord Dextrem or his wife, and I hardly can believe they are
familiar with me in any way.”

Miss Darcott shook her head. “Do not concern
yourself with such irrelevant things. What matters is that a very
wealthy family has found interest in you and has offered to be your
benefactor.”

“
My benefactor?”

“
Precisely. They wish you to be....their
ward.” Miss Darcott had approached her then, planting firm hands on
Audelia’s shoulders as she made to reassure her. “You understand
that, do you not?”

“
Of course. It is a rare privilege, I
presume, for a person of my stature.” Audelia grinned and blinked
away the surface of tears that threatened to well up in her eyes.
“I sure am fortunate to catch their eye, am I?”

“
That you are, dear. That you are.” Such
reassuring hands then made their way slowly to Audelia’s cheeks as
Miss Darcott cupped them, much as Audelia had imagined a mother
would to a beloved child. “But you must understand that nothing
comes totally free and you must be well behaved, correct?”

“
Of-of course.”

“
Perfect. So you must make the Madame
proud, Audelia Rolfen.” Miss Darcott squeezed her hand
affectionately. “She works very hard, you see, to pair you girls
with the best of benefactors. Therefore you ought to make an
example of this opportunity. The rest of the girls’ futures may
well rest upon it...”

A
udelia’s eyes blinked
open, her vision a bit hazy as she welcomed the bitter taste in her
mouth and the prickly sensations irritating her throat. Thirst was
something she’d become a master at ignoring over the past year,
especially with water hardly in her reach. But now, she scarcely
felt as if she could manage to bear it. While she’d managed to live
through such terrible conditions of life, she supposed no one
really deserved to do so. If only she could get a bite
of...

Shifting her legs, she made an attempt to
move, her vision now steady as she stared up at a high wide
ceiling. Stilling instantly, she frowned as she slowly became aware
of her surroundings. Either she was lying on the softest bed she
had ever felt or she was dead and floating off to the Heavens.
Audelia was more prepared to accept the latter for no one, on first
glance of her, would allow such fine hospitality. Especially
someone with a fine bed as this one.