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

“Open the gate,” said Dearley in a tone of command. “This is the Duke of Glosstyr! Are you blind, man?”

The knight on duty scrambled into action. Some barks of command were given, and the gate began to squeal as it opened.

The knight came forward apologetically. “I had no news you were comin’, my lord,” he said in apology. “Why have you come?” He gave one of his compatriots a nervous look. All of them appeared nervous now.

Ransom said nothing and tapped the flanks of his horse, leading the way into the courtyard. He saw one sentry creeping toward the inner doorway.

“Halt!” Ransom shouted, freezing the man. “Back to the gate.” When the sentry returned to his post with a stricken expression, Ransom dismounted from his horse. He checked the saddlebag with the Wizr set and patted it to make sure it was secured. “Watch my horse,” he told Dearley. “Don’t let anyone touch it but yourself.”

Dearley nodded and maintained an imperious pose. He directed the other knights to fan out around him and stand guard.

Ransom walked to the doors alone. He knew the castle well, its corridors intimately familiar to him after the years he’d spent there. He tugged open a door and was greeted by the alluring scent of cooking meat and bread. Only a few paces down the hall, he happened upon a servant who looked at him in confusion.

“Who are you?” he asked Ransom.

“Where is Jon-Landon?” Ransom asked.

The man started. “Pardon?”

He heard some steps and turned to see Lord DeVaux approaching him with purpose. The sight of him tightened Ransom’s gut.

“I saw you ride into the yard,” said Lord DeVaux. “What are you doing here, my lord duke?”

“I find your presence here troubling,” Ransom answered tightly. “When did you leave Kingfountain?”

“Not long ago,” said DeVaux. “We’re going back to the Vexin, so we decided to rest here along the way. We have permission. With Estian returning from the East, I thought it . . . wise . . . to safeguard my own territory. Since the duchess cannot.”

Ransom did not trust the man in the least.

“Where is Jon-Landon?” Ransom asked.

A slight tightening of the eyes was the only betrayal of emotion. “Isn’t he still in Kingfountain, my lord?”

“Would I be here if that were true?”

Lord DeVaux scratched his neck. “I suppose not.”

“Take me to him.”

“I would like to do that, my lord, but—”

Ransom stepped closer in a threatening way. DeVaux edged back. “Best to get this over with. Follow me.”

He brought Ransom out the rear of the castle and led him to the outer steps to the beach. Gulls cried out, and the crashing of the surf became louder.

As they descended the steps, Ransom saw two people walking hand in hand along the beach. Even from a distance, he recognized the young man as Jon-Landon. His companion was DeVaux’s daughter, Léa.

When Ransom and DeVaux reached the bottom of the cliff, their boots crunched into the sand. Stray bits of seaweed littered the shore.

Ransom breathed out his dissatisfaction.

“I know what you’re thinking,” DeVaux said. “The two were much thrown together in Kingfountain. Can a man not desire a good station for his daughter?”

“I thought Longmont was interested in her,” Ransom quipped.

“That attachment was entirely one-sided,” said DeVaux with a cunning smile. The young couple noticed their approach and came toward them. Léa smiled cheerfully and waved at her father. Jon-Landon frowned when he saw Ransom but didn’t seem to recognize him.

“What is it?” Jon-Landon asked DeVaux, ignoring Ransom as a lesser man, a servant. “Did the Espion find out? Do I need to hide?”

“No, Jon-Landon. You have bigger troubles than that,” said DeVaux. He gestured to Ransom but said nothing.

The prince looked at Ransom’s face in confusion, and then the realization struck him like a thunderclap.

“Hello, Lord Ransom,” said the prince with a greensick sort of look. “This is a surprise.”

The bright smile on Léa’s face wilted, and her eyes shot wide with recognition and sudden embarrassment. But she clutched Jon-Landon’s hand and arm more fiercely, as if claiming him for herself.

“Isn’t it, though?” Ransom answered, countering Jon-Landon’s queasy look with a disapproving one of his own.





I feel unsafe in my own castle. The surprise visit of the poisoner has ruined the semblance of security I once had. The rooms were all cleaned, everything wiped down and tended to, yet still we worry Lady Alix may have done some additional mischief on her visit.

Today I ordered the funeral rites for Keeva. She was so young, so faithful. I will seek justice from the Duchess of Bayree. I sent a letter to Emiloh to inform her of what happened here. I don’t even know where Ransom is right now. My heart grows more conflicted day by day. War is coming, one way or another.

At least my little ones are safe. I kiss them and worry for them. This intrusion must not go unpunished.

—Claire de Murrow

Connaught Castle

(weighing and considering risks)





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO


The Espion’s Reach

When they reached the streets of Kingfountain, people waved and shouted at Jon-Landon, showering him with coins as if he were a living fountain. Jon-Landon smiled with triumph, acting the part of the exultant prince even though he was returning in disgrace.

After they crossed the bridge, passing the sanctuary of Our Lady, they were met by twenty knights on horseback wearing the Lion badge of Benedict Argentine.

The lead knight, a man named Sir Bettencourt, reined in before them, looking confused as his eyes shot from face to face.

“Lord Ransom . . . is that you?” he asked at last.

“Aye, just bringing the lost prince home.”

“I chose to return,” Jon-Landon said, shifting in the saddle. “I’m not under arrest.”

“We were alerted to a riot happening in town,” said Bettencourt. “Well, my lord prince. At least the lost has been found. Go ahead to the palace. I have orders from Lord Longmont to clear the streets.” He said the last with a menacing tone.

Jon-Landon chuckled.

“Go easy, Sir Bettencourt,” Ransom said. “No use stirring trouble where there is none.”

“Oh, there is,” said the knight, giving the prince a hard look.

The knights passed them, and Ransom continued up the hillside to the palace. When they reached the fortress, they left their horses with the stable hands, but Ransom slung the saddlebag with the Wizr set over his shoulder. He noticed the prince was still smirking as they approached the palace on foot. Sir Iain met them, blinking with surprise when he recognized them.

“I’m home, Sir Iain,” said Jon-Landon. “I hope my absence didn’t cause much of a fuss.”

“I don’t know what surprises me more, lad. Seeing you or seeing you with Lord Ransom.”

“Where is Emiloh?” Ransom asked, shifting the burden on his shoulder. His wounds had completely healed, and the scabbard’s glow had finally faded.

“It’s a warm afternoon. She was walking in the cistern garden. There was a rabble forming in the streets, so we heard, but now I understand what caused the fuss.”

“I’ll meet her there,” Ransom said. “Keep your eye on the prince lest he try and slip away again.”

“Yes, never take your eyes off a serpent,” Jon-Landon said with an air of self-importance that made Ransom want to cuff him on the back of the head.

He turned to Dearley, who’d come in behind them. “I’ll meet you later.”

“Of course,” replied his first knight.

As Ransom walked through the palace corridors, he saw that even more decorations had been added since his last visit. The effect was distasteful, especially considering the country was still at war, and it proved Longmont had done little to change his ways. It took a moment for the knight standing guard to recognize him, but then he nodded.

“The queen dowager is there. She’ll be happy to see you, Lord Ransom.”