A shiver of almost-knowing ran over my skin. “I’m sure I don’t know what we are discussing here.” For an instant I debated shushing him, wondering if a secret was about to be shared that my little daughter had no right to know.
Riddle shrugged and uncoiled the tiny scroll. He held it close to his face to read, and then moved it out until his eyes could focus on the minute lettering. He spoke its words aloud. “‘Huntswoman or gardener’s girl, he surmised. And the huntswoman it was. A cask of apricot Sandsedge brandy if you can discover for me how he narrowed it to those two …’”
I smiled as Riddle’s voice faltered. “And the rest, no doubt, for your eyes alone?”
Riddle raised his brows. “Well, perhaps he intended it that way, but how I could keep it from you, I don’t know. He ardently desires to know why this is such an important piece of information to you.”
I leaned on my elbows and steepled my fingers, tapping them against my lips as I considered. “It probably isn’t,” I told him bluntly. Would the small listener in the wall behind me have put the shards together as quickly as I had? Most likely. It was not a difficult riddle.
“I was seeking for a child born of either of those women. But not sired by Lord Vigilant. Unless …” It was my turn to let my words trickle away as a peculiar thought came to me. Many a bastard had been blessed with a mother deceptive enough to proclaim him the product of the rightful marriage bed. Was this a case of a mother finding a more acceptable illegitimacy for her son? Would Laurel have conceived by the Fool, and then claimed the child was the offspring of another tryst? No. Not only did I believe that the huntswoman would have cherished any babe Lord Golden fathered on her, but the age was wrong. FitzVigilant might be Laurel’s son, but he could not be the Fool’s. And knowing Laurel as I had, I doubt she would willingly have ceded a lovingly conceived child, no matter his bastardy, to his father’s sole care. There was more of a tale there than I had the heart to know, something dark. A rape? A dishonest seduction? Laurel had left a child to be raised by a man who acknowledged him but was either incapable or unwilling to protect him as he grew. Why? And why did Chade and Nettle seem to value him so?
I met Riddle’s inquiring look. “In truth, it’s entirely coincidence. I was looking for someone else, a much older offspring. Chade won’t believe that, so he won’t pay his bribe. A pity. Apricot Sandsedge brandy is hard to come by. It’s been years since I’ve tasted it.” I drew my thoughts back from following that memory. Too late. It had coupled with my Fool’s quest. Could FitzVigilant be the unexpected son he had bade me seek? Only if, unbeknownst to me or Chade, Lord Golden had returned to the Six Duchies, had an assignation with Huntswoman Laurel, and then abandoned her. And she had blamed the child on Lord Vigilant? No. There was no sense to be found there.
Riddle was still regarding me speculatively. Might as well make use of his curiosity. “That visitor we had, the one who left without saying farewell? She brought me a message from an old friend. Lord Golden, to be precise.”
One of his eyebrows lifted slightly. If he was surprised that she had been a messenger, he covered it well. “You and Lord Golden were very close, as I recall.”
He said it so neutrally, it meant nothing at all. Or perhaps everything. “We were close,” I agreed quietly.
The silence stretched longer. I was mindful of the small listener behind the wall. I cleared my throat. “There is more. The messenger said she was hunted. That her pursuers were close.”
“She would have been safer if she had stayed here.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps she didn’t think so. I know she feared that danger would follow her to my household. But she also told me that Lord Golden was trying to return, but that he, too, had to evade pursuers.” I weighed my risks. In for a copper, in for a gold. “Lord Golden may have fathered a child when he was in the Six Duchies. The messenger came to tell me that this son could be in great danger. That Lord Golden wished me to find him and protect him.”
Riddle was silent, organizing all I had told him. He spoke cautiously. “You think that FitzVigilant might be Lord Golden’s son?”
I shook my head. “He’s the wrong age. Huntswoman Laurel was one of the women I thought might be a possible mother.”
“More to the point, he has the wrong father. Laurel the huntswoman was his mother, Chade now says. But Vigilant claimed him as son. Unless the lad had two fathers …”
“Or was claimed by someone who didn’t father him,” I pointed out. Then I sighed. “He’s still too young. Unless Lord Golden had paid another visit to Buck.”
We both fell silent. Would he have returned to Buck and not contacted me? I didn’t think so. Why would he have returned?