Love Spell: Book 2 of The Grimm Laws (27 page)

“And yet, despite all of the events that have taken place, you decide tonight to break off the engagement.”

“It has nothing to do with Lynessa,” he said, but he wouldn’t look her in the eye. Not good. Not good at all. She thought she’d gotten rid of Lynessa for good, but she should’ve known she’d turn up again—her kind always did.

Edward met Lynessa when she traveled with her family to the castle. They were traveling minstrels that never stayed put in one location longer than a few weeks. From the moment he saw Lynessa perform, he was smitten by her exotic beauty. A hot flame ignited between them, sparking a short-lived romance. Short lived because thankfully, Loreena got wind of it before things got out of control. There was no way she was going to allow her son, the prince, to become ensnared by some gypsy. She told Aalexander about the romance, and he reacted the way Loreena had hoped—by sending Lynessa and her family away in the dead of the night. Edward was understandably broken-hearted but resilient. He healed from the wound, just as Loreena knew he would.

A short time later, fearing that Edward would find another unworthy object on which to shower his affections, Aalexander decided that it was time for him to marry. At first, Aalexander had been set on Edward wedding the oldest daughter of King Felipe, a powerful ally whose kingdom lay a week’s journey beyond the mountains to the North. The persistent attacks from Ruben and his bandits were starting to take their toll on the army, and Aalexander lived in constant fear that Ruben would join forces with Tristian the Butcher and attempt to overthrow the kingdom. Joining the royal families in marriage would most assuredly strengthen his already good relationship with King Felipe, thereby giving an added measure of security in the event of an attack. Aalexander was certain that Felipe would readily agree to the arrangement as rumor had it that he’d been trying unsuccessfully to marry off his eldest daughter for some time. While Princess Helsin possessed royal blood and a sound mind, she was known for her rash temper and masculine ways. On the portly side with dreadfully plain features, she could pass for a soldier, were it not for the elaborate gowns that her mother, the queen, insisted upon stuffing her into.

Edward balked at the idea of an arranged marriage, telling his father that he refused to be “sold off” to the highest bidder, especially to The Princess Helsin. He was so distraught over the idea that Loreena feared he might do something reckless like run away, so she took pity on him and persuaded Aalexander to allow Edward to consider other options.

Loreena never would have imagined that of all the maidens in the kingdom, Edward would choose Cinderella. In order for a maiden to be considered eligible, she had to possess noble blood. Technically, Cinderella qualified on the grounds that her deceased father was a count; however, her mother, also deceased, was a peasant. Cinderella’s father had not only married a commoner, but he squandered away his wealth and died under mysterious circumstances. Add that to the fact that Cinderella had grown up a lowly servant in Seraphina’s house, and the situation was further disconcerting.

Loreena had gone to great lengths, trying to convince Edward to choose another, but his heart was set on Cinderella. Nothing she said or did could change his mind. Looking at the situation now, there was the smallest part of her that took pride in the fact that she’d been right about Cinderella from the start, but the larger part, the maternal part, ached for her son. Edward was distraught and needed her help. And, the peasant girl had unknowingly given her a way to destroy her most powerful and hated enemy—Wisteria.

Of course Edward would still end up with Cinderella. There were ways around that quandary though—accidents of various natures occurred all of the time in the palace. No one would think twice if something were to happen to Cinderella, and she had no powerful relatives that would seek retaliation. There was Seraphina, of course, but she could easily be bought.

Loreena stood and went to Edward who was staring out the window and into the black night. She draped her arms around his shoulders. “I am so sorry this is happening,” she began. “You deserve better.”

“Not this again, Mother. You have never liked Cinderella. I am certain you are only too happy that events are working out as they are.” He attempted to extricate himself from her grasp, but she held him tight.

“Edward, thine assumptions are incorrect. Contrary to what you believe, I think Cinderella will make thee a fine wife.” She nearly choked on the words before getting them out. He turned to face her, and it was all she could do not to cringe at the cautious hope she saw in his eyes.

He searched her face. “Really?”

She feigned a smile. “Aye, really. I will admit that I was not overly fond of her at first …”

He rolled his eyes. “’Tis a gross understatement.”

She held up a finger, signaling him to let her talk. “But, I am becoming somewhat fond of her as time passes. And when I think of the dreadful spell that witch cast over her … justice must prevail.”

A shadow crossed Edward’s features. “I am not certain she is under a spell.”

“Of course she is. Tonight was the perfect example. All Wisteria had to do was get up and sing some nonsense about a daisy and her worthless son, and Cinderella nearly fell apart. What further proof do you need?”

Edward scratched his head. “I am not certain, Mother. I have since learned that she and Rushton have a long history together.”

“But she chose thee,” Loreena snapped.

Edward paused, thinking. “Aye, I suppose she did.”

“And she is choosing thee now,” Loreena added.

“Aye, she is choosing me because she wants to live.” His expression became pained. “She either has to choose me or die.”

Loreena chuckled. “Do not be so dramatic, my son. You could have thy selection of any maiden in the kingdom. Cinderella is lucky you chose her.”

“You make a strong argument.”

“I am correct in this matter. I can assure thee of that.”

“What if I let her out of the engagement?”

Loreena balked. “Nay! She cannot get out of the engagement anymore than you can. You know the law, Edward. And besides, she is going to testify that she was under a spell. She has to testify!”

Edward gave her a thoughtful look. “Why are you so worried about her testifying?”

Heat rushed to Loreena’s cheeks. “Because a wrong has been committed, and it must be set straight,” she said a little too quickly.

“Are you certain this is not about Wisteria?”

Her eyes went wide, and she put on an innocent expression. “I am only thinking of thee. If you could somehow finagle it so that you release Cinderella from her engagement, then thy father will go along with his original plan to marry thee off to that detestable Princess Helsin.” She shuddered. “Do you want to be saddled with that man-princess and her loud-mouthed mother?”

Edward ran both hands through his hair. “Nay,” he admitted, “I would rather die than to be saddled with that. I know not what to do,” he wailed. “I love Cinderella, but I want her to love me too … for me. How will I ever know for sure whether or not she truly loves me?”

“Love is a living thing, Edward. It grows and changes with each passing day. My love for thy father is different from when we first married.” She gave him a tender smile. “You will know. I promise that you will know. Cinderella is not at fault. She acted under the influence of a powerful spell. I know it! She loves you!” She hoped the conviction in her voice would convince him. She studied his expression to see if she was getting through.

He blew out a breath. “Aye,” he finally said. “I will give her another chance.”

“Aye,” she said, relieved, “’tis what you must do … give her another chance.” She touched his cheek. “My dearest son, it will work out for thy good.”

“I hope you are correct.” He gave her a peck on the cheek. “I am weary, Mother. I am going to retire to my chamber.” He moved away from her. “Goodnight.”

When he got to the door, she spoke. “Edward.”

He turned.

“Stay away from the gypsy.”

“
A
re
you certain we will be safe there?” Rushton peered through the darkness at the single dot of light flickering in the distance.

“Aye, I have stayed here many a night before. We will be safe enough.” Jack forged ahead. “Come.”

Rushton looked longingly at the light, hoping with all of his heart that Jack was right. Three days had passed since his encounter with Edward in the cave. Three long days and even longer nights of traveling on the road and sleeping out in the open. He was weary to the bone, in need of a hot meal and a clean bed—he’d be happy with a clean bed of straw at this point. He swallowed, his parched throat burning in protest. Water had been scarce. They’d gotten what they could from streams along the way, but fresh water was hard to come by. He’d gotten so thirsty earlier in the day that he’d been tempted to drink from the muddy water in puddles alongside the road. The only thing that kept him from succumbing to the temptation was a warning from Jack, followed by a longwinded tale, told in gruesome detail, about what happened to the last person he knew that drank stagnant water.

Rushton’s feet were stinging with every step, and his stomach was so empty that it felt like it was turning inside out. Thus far, they’d only come to one village in the course of their travels. As haggard and hungry as Rushton was, he would’ve gladly forked over a gold piece in exchange for a bowl of thick pottage, crusty bread, and a clean, warm place to sleep; however, Jack warned him against showing anyone the gold. “A piece of gold is worth more than these villagers earn in three-month’s time or more. If you start waving gold pieces around, we will become a target for every bandit and thief for miles around. We have to act as though we are penniless.” He pointed at Rushton’s cloak. “That might fetch us some bread and ale. Of course, thy dagger would bring us food enough for a week.”

The only time Rushton had ever been separated from his dagger was in the dungeon, and now that fate had restored it to him, he had no intention of losing it again. Encrusted with two rubies of identical size on either side of the handle, it had been a gift from his mother. She gave it to him on the day he became a squire. He put a protective hand over it. “You would have to kill me first.”

A smile flittered over Jack’s face. “I figured as much. Thy cloak will suffice.”

Jack, as it turned out, was a masterful haggler. He not only got them the bread and ale, but also two figs, four apples, and a tin cup. “We can trade the cup for more food along the way,” he explained.

Life in the palace had made Rushton soft. Never before had he been forced to worry about his next meal or if he would have a place to sleep. Jack, on the other hand, had spent the bulk of his life scrapping for food and trading for goods. Rushton was developing a begrudging admiration for his witty, slick-talking companion. Had it not been for Jack, they would have most likely been captured or robbed already.

The tavern they were nearing was on the outskirts of the larger township of Scholchester that bordered the village of Landerburg where Jack grew up. Jack assured Rushton that he knew the tavern owner, a shrewd businessman with a solid reputation for conducting business transactions. “He will help us exchange a few gold pieces for crowns, marks, and shillings,” Jack said. “Largot is discrete, making his money by keeping his mouth shut. Were he to divulge the identity of his customers, the word would get out, tarnishing his reputation.”

Their plan was to get enough coins to enable them to purchase food, lodging, and a couple of sturdy horses. The township of Sholchester was located on the far southern tip of the kingdom. Rushton, fearing that they would be recognized, didn’t want to risk stopping at the tavern, but their options were running out. “Are you absolutely certain this Largot of whom you speak will not rob us or turn us in to the royal army to collect a reward?”

Jack made a face. “Aye, I am partly sure … mostly sure,” he amended.

Not what Rushton wanted to hear. “Maybe we should keep going until we are farther away from the kingdom.”

“Nay, for we will starve before we get to the next township. We will not find a moneychanger in the smaller villages, and we will be doomed. All will be well … if ye do as we discussed and stay in the background. Let me do the talking.”

When they’d passed through the previous village, they were shocked to see drawings of Rushton, posted on trees, offering a sizable reward for his capture. Thankfully, there were no drawings of Jack. Evidently, Jack was small potatoes compared to Rushton.

“If it makes ye feel any better, I do trust Largot … up to a point.”

“It does not,” Rushton countered dryly.

“Largot is a longtime acquaintance, and he owes me a favor.” Jack’s face split into a grin. “Were it not for me, he would never have married his lovely wife.”

Rushton waited for him to expound.

“His wife, Tallia is much younger than he. She is as pretty a maiden as I have ever had the fortune of beholding, with her cheery face and chestnut-colored hair. Her lips are as luscious as they look—a plump strawberry, ripe for the picking.”

“And you know this how?”

Jack chuckled. “Tallia loved me first, but I convinced her that a solid, up-standing, tavern owner would make a fine husband—much finer than a poor farmer who never knew where his next meal was coming from. Always the sensible one, Tallia realized the truth of my words. She married Largot.” He flashed a devilish smile. “But we sure enjoyed sharing company together beforehand.”

Rushton’s eyes widened. “If he finds out you were dallying with his wife, he will have thee horsewhipped!”

“Fiancée … not wife,” Jack pointed out. “Even I am not daft enough to dally with a man’s wife.”

“Does Largot know about thy dalliance … um, history with Tallia?”

“Heavens, no! I am the one that introduced him to her. He attributes his happiness to me. He is happy … Tallia is happy … and I managed to squeeze out a few happy moments too.” He began whistling under his breath.