Lady's Ransom (The First Argentines, #3)

“He is clever,” Ransom said, remembering how he’d tricked everyone into believing he was carrying on a dalliance with a woman when he was really negotiating terms with his brother.

“Clever but not wise,” Emiloh said. “But before we call for Longmont, there’s something you and I should discuss.”

“Yes?”

She wiped the moisture from her hands and turned to face him. Then she smoothed his tunic, just as she would if he were her own son. The tender gesture softened his mood.

“The decision to make Longmont the justiciar has been disastrous. Bennett made it without consulting anyone. He wants to be seen as a strong leader, a decisive one, but he’s too much like his father, although that comparison would offend him. Still, he made one wise move—he gave us the power to balance Longmont’s influence. It’s my verdict that power has gone to the man’s head like a man giddy from too much wine. He doesn’t see his excesses, nor does he recognize that he’s making decisions better left to Bennett. If we don’t do something now, we could have a rebellion on our hands. Deposing Longmont later would prove ever more difficult. Do you agree?”

Ransom gave a single, decisive nod. “What do you suggest we do?”

“Bennett is wintering on the Isle of Korfe. I propose sending him a message detailing Longmont’s abuses and that we’ll bring him to heel. Another can be called to take his place. It seems the most sensible thing to do. I’ve wanted to discuss the situation with someone but lacked a trusted confidant. Your surprise arrival is truly a blessing from the Fountain. If we act now, we can solve this problem while we deal with the one regarding Jon-Landon.”

“It’s a thorny situation. If we depose him too soon, it will open the king to ridicule. The nobles may lose faith in his judgment.” He rubbed his lip. “It won’t surprise you to hear Longmont hasn’t done anything against me personally. In fact, he’s given me additional lands and income, although some of that is on the king’s orders.”

“Of course. He’s shrewd.”

“And so are you,” Ransom said with a smile.

The queen dowager dimpled with the compliment. For a moment, he flashed to another face—Alix, her daughter. King Estian’s poisoner. The two looked disarmingly similar.

“Do you agree with my reasoning?”

“I do,” Ransom said. “Who would you recommend to replace him?”

“I think one of the deconeuses would suffice. Someone who can balance the ambitions of Bennett and Jon-Landon. Or do you want the position?”

“I definitely do not,” Ransom said in surprise.

“Which makes you all the more suitable. But you have problems enough of your own. How is Claire doing? Is she still sick all the time from her pregnancy?”

“She is. I didn’t wish to leave her again so late in the year. I don’t want to be trapped here when winter comes.”

“That makes you a good husband,” Emiloh said, pleased. “Your loyalties are divided, something I understand well. But such is life, Ransom. A person cannot be in two places at once. We must neglect some things to accomplish others.”

“I was afraid you’d say something like that,” Ransom said, slumping his shoulders. “The only time I have clarity of thought is in the mornings when I’m in the training yard. There’s something about the art of killing that clears the mind.”

She put a hand on his arm. “It is always easier to fight, Ransom. When passions get raised, it’s more natural to pick up a shaft of heavy steel and swing it than a delicate quill and scratch ink stains with it. But diplomacy, while the harder solution, lasts longer. It causes less destruction. It leaves fewer grieving widows.”

He heard the pain in her voice and knew she spoke from the vast well of her own experience.

“How would we get a message to the king without Longmont’s Espion finding out?”

She smiled again. “After we tell Longmont about Jon-Landon’s return, I’ll insist on sending a message to the king to inform him. One of my trusted knights will deliver it, although it’ll be Longmont’s responsibility to deliver the knight to the king. The official message will be transported in a fancy scroll with gilt caps on it. But another message, sewn into his boot, will be delivered after he arrives at the Isle of Korfe.”

“That should work very well,” Ransom said. “Longmont is so focused on pomp and circumstance, his focus will be on the first message.”

“Then we’re agreed?”

“We are.”

“Let’s go talk to Longmont. No doubt he’s chafing outside the door in the corridor, anxious to accost either or both of us.”

She was about to leave, but he caught her arm.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Why is Lord DeVaux at the palace?” he said, still feeling shards of resentment from a long-ago wound.

Her brow furrowed. “Longmont says it’s to keep DeVaux out of trouble in the Vexin while I’m here. But honestly, I think he plans on marrying his daughter, Léa.”

Ransom recoiled. “She’s very young.”

Emiloh nodded. “Indeed. Very young. But she will not always be. I think Longmont has convinced himself that he will become the Duke of Vexin someday. Shall we?”

Ransom let her precede him back into the king’s room, which felt comfortably warm after their time on the balcony. He went to the door and, without surprise, found Longmont pacing outside, rubbing his chin. When the door opened, he startled and gave Ransom an expectant look.

“Come in,” Ransom said.

“So there is news! Yes, of course!” He promptly joined them, his eyes wide and eager.

“Have you heard any rumors recently about my son, Jon-Landon?” Emiloh asked him archly.

Longmont’s brow wrinkled, and he chafed his hands together slowly as he turned in a half circle. “He’s at the Steene in Atabyrion, ma’am.”

“No, he isn’t. He’s back in Ceredigion.”

His brow wrinkled further. “That’s not possible. I would have—”

“No, I don’t think so,” she rebuffed. “He was with Lady Deborah recently. He may still be there.”

“At Thorngate?” Longmont said, perplexed.

“Yes, that’s the castle. The one you’ve tried to take from her. Thankfully, she is loyal to the crown and sent word to Lord Ransom at once.” She cocked her head. “What good are all of your Espion if they think my son is still at the Steene?”

“A thousand pardons, ma’am,” Longmont said, looking greensick. “I don’t think it would be wise if your son were allowed to—How shall I say this?—roam freely. He may start an insurrection.”

Emiloh shot Ransom an exasperated glance.

“Which is why we’ve told you,” she answered, stepping forward. “Find out where he is, and bring him to Kingfountain at once!”

It was the second time that night that Longmont looked humiliated.

“If it pleases you, ma’am, I shall send riders immediately. He will not be harmed.” He was about to turn and rush out of the room, but Emiloh’s gaze restrained him.

“One more thing,” she said. “I’m going to craft a letter to the king.”

“I could do that, ma’am, for certain!”

“Yes, I know, but I wish to write it and send one of my knights to deliver the message. Make preparations so that he can leave with the tide for the Isle of Korfe.”

“Of course,” he said, bowing low. Then he scuttled from the room. As soon as the door was closed, they heard the noise of his boots running down the hall.





Lord Dougal continues his attempts to breach Connaught. There have been three raids so far, and I must admit his determination is impressive. I wish it weren’t. There is a certain ferocity in this attack, a knowledge that he will seize us or die trying. My advisors have suggested I board a ship and risk the sea to get back to Glosstyr, but I cannot back down. We must prevail.