Never Wager Against Love (Kellington Book Three) (11 page)

Sergeant Flagstone opened and shut his mouth several times
in rapid succession.  “Someone wants to steal the Larsen?  I can’t imagine
anyone trying to take the broadsword, what with all the guards we have.  Quite
frankly, Miss Gans, that’s the craziest thing I have heard since….well, since I
heard the Home Office has lady agents.  No offense, miss.”

“Of course, sergeant,” said Vanessa as she almost took a sip
of her tea to be polite, then decided it would be better to be rude than to be
sickened by whatever was in her cup.

“Have you seen the Larsen broadsword recently?” asked
Arthur.  “While I’m sure only the most foolhardy villains would try to steal
it, I can assure you that we’re dealing with two ruthless individuals.  I
wouldn’t put it past them to at least try.”

Sergeant Flagstone considered the possibility.  “They must
be two bully boys and daft ones at that, if they expect to get through here.”

Vanessa smiled at the man.  “Actually, one of the two is a
woman.”

That news, unsurprisingly, astounded Sergeant Flagstone.  “A
woman!  What is the world coming to if a woman tries to steal the Larsen?  If
you ask me, it’s all because of that nonsense in Lunnon.  The sister of some
dook says females should get involved in politics, if you can believe that. 
Did you hear about it?”

“I believe I heard something to that effect,” said Arthur.

“Can we count on your assistance?” asked Vanessa. 

“I see no reason to refuse your request, seeing as it’s the
Crown.  I will, however, have to inform the prison guv’nor.  He’ll have to give
his permission.  I’ll go explain the situation to him while my adjutant fetches
the Larsen.  You should be underway in no time at all.”

As Sergeant Flagstone left the office, shaking his head and
muttering about females, Arthur opened the window and emptied the contents of
his and Vanessa’s cups.  “I actually believe the tea will sully the disgusting
moat.  Once we have the Larsen broadsword – if it is still here – what would
you like to do?  It may be days yet before Dumbarton deciphers the next code.”

Vanessa considered his request.  “I think you should take
the sword to London while I await word from Dumbarton.”

“And I think that’s a terrible idea.  We’re in this
together, love, and I won’t leave you alone.”

“Why is it so important that you accompany me?  Are you
bored with your life and wish for some excitement?  I might be more amenable to
your accompanying me if I better understood your reasons.”

Arthur was saved from replying by the adjutant entering the
room.  He was dragging a four-foot long, moldering leather case.  With a great
deal of effort, he placed it on Flagstone’s desk, then pulled out an old key
and unlocked the case.  Whatever Arthur was expecting, it wasn’t what they
looked upon inside. 

The sword, like everything else in the castle, was in a
state of decay.  The blade was corroded and dull.  By some miracle, the hilt still
retained its jewels, perhaps because they currently looked like nothing more
than dirty rocks.  But after a few moments of rubbing with Arthur’s
handkerchief, they could begin to see the glitter of gold. 

“I’m surprised any jewels remain on it,” said Vanessa. 
“Especially in a place like this.”

“If you’ll excuse me ma’am, it’s because it’s in a place
like this that the jewels are still there,” said the adjutant.  “While everyone
knows about the sword, not many know where we keep it.  And even if they was to
find it, them jewels is attached good and strong.  Those dirty Vikings knew how
to make a sword.  And it’s not like you could take something like this out of
here with no one the wiser.” 

“Liam would love this,” said Arthur.  “He is a great student
of Viking era history.  Sometimes I think he was born in the wrong era.  I can
very well see him defending English shores from the Norsemen.”

Vanessa ran her fingers over the sword’s jewels.  “I was
just thinking you are the Kellington who would be most interested in this. 
After all, your namesake had Excalibur.”

Arthur could barely breathe at the sight of Vanessa’s hand
on the hilt.  “Yes, well, the Arthur we know was naught but a legend.  The real
one was just a man.”

Sergeant Flagstone chose that time to return to his office,
with the prison governor in tow.  Sir John Morgan carried himself with
arrogance and as he slowly looked Vanessa over from head to toe, Arthur longed
to cosh the man with the Larsen. 

Sir John turned his attention to Arthur.  “Flagstone here
says you’re on a mission from the Crown.  I haven’t heard a thing about it.”

“It came up rather suddenly,” said Vanessa.  “Then Lord
Arthur and I came here as a result.”

Sir John pointedly ignored Vanessa.  “Flagstone says you’re
Lynwood’s brother.  Please give my regards to his grace.”

“I wasn’t aware you were acquainted,” said Arthur coolly.

“We haven’t met yet,” blustered Sir John.  “But now that I’m
newly invested with my knighthood, I expect it’s only a matter of time until we
bump into each other the next time I’m in London.”

Arthur rather doubted they would, but he used the man’s
ambitions to pursue their case.  “I was hoping we could take the broadsword
today.  Time is of the essence.”

“I’m afraid that simply won’t be possible,” said Sir John.  “There’s
something about this that seems a bit havey-cavey, what with ‘females working
for the Crown.’  I can’t simply take your word for it.  I’d need to have
authorization from the Home Office.  Or, at the very least, a note from his
grace.”

“That will take time we don’t have,” said Vanessa.  “Getting
a message to and from London will take days.”

“Yes, it will at that,” agreed Sir John, who appeared to
consider the situation.  “Or we could expedite the process.”

“Splendid,” said Arthur.

Vanessa eyed Sir Morgan with suspicion.  “Would there be a
fee involved?”

“Well, we would need a bit of money to cover all the extra
costs we’d incur.”

“How much?” asked Arthur.

“I don’t know,” replied Sir John.  “Perhaps fifty guineas?”

Ignoring Vanessa’s gasp of outrage, Arthur continued.  “I’m
afraid that is quite out of the question.”

“I should say so,” said Vanessa.  “Expecting us to pay for
doing our duty….”

“How about five guineas?” countered Arthur.  “Miss Gans is
right in that we are only doing our duty, but I understand there are matters
which must be taken care of, forms to fill out, et cetera.”

“Ten guineas,” said Sir John.

“I think not,” said Arthur.  “Five is my final offer.”

Sir John considered it.  “Ten guineas would allow me to send
my swiftest rider to London to get orders from the Home Office.”

“And what would be the price of a slower rider?” asked
Arthur.

“Also ten guineas.  It’s so hard to spare anyone from the
gaol.”

“Is there no one closer to here who can vouch for you?”
asked Sergeant Flagstone.

“Are you acquainted with Professor Dumbarton at Cambridge?”
asked Vanessa.

“Of course we are!” said Flagstone.  “He’s come to the
Castle several times – just in the past couple weeks, as a matter of fact.  If
you know Professor Dumbarton, we can definitely release the sword to you.”

“Excellent,” said Vanessa.

“All you need is a message from Professor Dumbarton vouching
for you,” said Sir John.  “We can send a rider on your behalf.  For ten
guineas.”

“We’ll take care of it ourselves,” said Arthur, “at a much
more reasonable price.”

Their business concluded, Sir John escorted them back to the
great hall, rambling on about his knighthood the entire time.

Vanessa looked around the cavernous room, which was now
filled with family members of prisoners, all clamoring for a chance to send a
message, food or medicine to their loved ones in the hellish pits below.  The
families would have to pay for the privilege of having their parcels
delivered.  And even then, what started out as a loaf of bread in the hall
would most likely be reduced to only a slice or two by the time it reached its
intended target.  It sickened Vanessa to think of the corruption which was
widespread throughout the country’s many prisons.

As they walked toward the entrance, they passed an elderly
lady holding bread and some cheese.  She was arguing with the constable, who
had little patience for the woman.  Vanessa was about to intercede when Sir
John showed them the door. 

“Do let me know as soon as you hear back from Dumbarton,”
said the officious governor.  “I look forward to concluding our business.” 
With that, the man walked back through the great hall, ignoring the families’
pleas to speak with him.

Vanessa made a move to follow him, but Arthur escorted her
out the door.  “It angers me, too, love.  But right now our mission is the
Larsen.  Antagonizing Sir John won’t help us get it.”

CHAPTER SEVEN
 

After sending an express to Cambridge asking for Dumbarton’s
letter of introduction, Arthur and Vanessa took another walk through town,
making guarded inquiries about Mortimer and Cassidy.  But once again, they
found no sign of the pair despite having spent many a coin.  They shared a
midday meal at a respectable tavern near the castle square, then they began making
their way back to the inn.  However, Arthur could not help but notice when
Vanessa paused as they passed a shop.

“What is it?” he asked, looking into the shop through the
window.  “Do you see them?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” she said wistfully, before
turning toward the inn once more.

Arthur remained at the window looking in.  It appeared to be
a small café, similar to a tea shop, with several small tables set up inside. 
“Would you like something?  It appears to be some sort of sweet shop.”

After a moment’s hesitation, she walked back toward him. 
“Not sweets, I….”  She shook her head again.

Arthur gazed into the shop once again to see what had
interested her.  Then he smiled.  “They sell ices,” he said.  “Now we simply
must go inside.”

She shook her head again and tried to turn away, but he
reached out and took her by the hand.  “I cannot have my wife disobeying me in
public,” he said, as he tugged her toward the entrance then ushered her through
the door.  “I simply must insist that we sample a few ices before continuing in
our quest.”  They were shown to a table before she could protest further. 
“What is your favorite flavor?” he asked.  “Will it be a sweet strawberry, a
tart lemon or perhaps a rich chocolate?”

“I cannot say,” she said, watching as he made lounging in a
chair an art form.

“Surely this cannot be a state secret, Miss Gans.  The Home
Office lets you disclose this type of information, does it not?”

“I’m afraid you misunderstand, Lord Arthur.  I cannot tell
you as I have never had an ice before.”

That brought him up short.  “Never?  You’ve never been to
Gunter’s in London?”

“You forget, my lord, that I must work for a living.  I have
neither the time nor the funds to go to Gunter’s.”  She might as well be honest
about the gulf that existed between them.  She could eat for a week on what one
trip to the famous ice maker would cost her.

“In that case, we must make this visit count.  Order
whatever you like and as many as you fancy.”

“But are we not constrained by a lack of funds?’

Arthur smiled at her.  “I do wish I could spend as I
normally do, as I would love to spoil you.  But even in my reduced
circumstances, we can afford a few dishes and you, sweeting, can have all of
them.”

“But you must have some, too,” she said, genuinely touched
by his thoughtfulness.  Then she remembered herself.  “And don’t call me
sweeting.”

He ignored both of her commands.  “As much as I enjoy an
ice, I can wait until we return to London.  It will be enjoyment enough to
watch as you experience your first taste.” 

The dazzling smile she gave him made him wish he could lighten
all her burdens in life, ones he’d never had to face because he’d been born a
Kellington.  But now was certainly not the time to broach that topic. 

The café owner came to take their order.  It took Vanessa a
few minutes to make her selections, her demeanor as solemn as if she’d been
negotiating the terms of peace with France.  But she eventually settled on
chocolate and peach, and only then after extracting his promise that he would
share them with her.

As soon as she placed her order, she was back to being the
frighteningly efficient agent of the Crown.  “Provided we get Sir John to
release the broadsword into our keeping, how do you suggest we transport it?”

“Perhaps we should send it to your superiors in London or
even to Professor Dumbarton in Cambridge.”

She considered that for a moment, then shook her head.  “I’m
afraid to let it out of my sight.”

“You don’t trust Dumbarton?”  Arthur hoped she was beginning
to suspect the man.  He probably wasn’t the mole in her organization, but he
certainly had dishonorable intentions toward her. 
Not as dishonorable as
you do,
an inner voice stated.  He did his best to ignore it.

“I trust him,” said Vanessa, “but I would hate to place him
in danger, which could occur if Mortimer and Cassidy learned he has it.  And considering
how many students go in and out of his home each day, I fear it would only be a
matter of time until word got out.  As for sending the sword to London,
something tells me it’s the wrong move to make.  And I have learned to trust my
instincts.”

The owner arrived with the ices, which he placed in front of
them.  The man was quite proud of his creations and wanted to watch Vanessa
take her first bite.  But there was something almost intimate about the situation
that Arthur did not wish to share with others.  He waved the man off and made a
mental note to leave an extra coin for his rudeness, though he was beginning to
worry about how much longer his funds would hold out.