Cass started coughing. Quinn leaned back in his chair and covered his mouth with his hand. “Very well. Report.”
“First, sir, I’d like to assure you we didn’t talk about Mouse. She didn’t even ask about him.”
Quinn relaxed a little. “What did you learn?”
Charlie grinned triumphantly. “She was seventeen last month.” Age mattered to him. He launched into a narrative of broken bones and climbing trees and how she tutored her four cousins while she lived with her aunt and uncle at Broadmoor Manor.
Not much was useful, but it was more than Mouse ever got from her. “What else did you talk about?”
“Me mostly, sir. She wanted to know about my home and family. We talked about how I came to be a page, my travels with the army, the places I had seen, and how I’m training to earn my commission, like you.”
Information on me by proxy. Oh, Starling, you are clever. Over Charlie’s head he could see Casseck come to the same conclusion. “Did she ask about any of us?”
“Just if I was well treated. I said yes, but nothing else so I wouldn’t accidentally say something about Robert or Ash or you.”
Quinn reviewed the conversation to find what was tickling his mind. “When you told her about your time with the army, what are some of the things you said?”
Charlie looked thoughtful. “We talked about how big the army is, how fast it can travel, the different kinds of soldiers, how they get supplies.” He shrugged. “Girls don’t know any of that stuff. She thought it was interesting.”
Quinn’s heart sank. “I’m sure she did.”
Casseck closed the door behind Charlie after Quinn dismissed him. “He thought he was helping. I doubt he told her anything we wouldn’t consider common knowledge.”
“She has a way of making you trust her,” said Quinn. He tapped his lip. “But Charlie is a pretty good judge of character. Back home he knew which servant was stealing that one time, and he always knows when someone’s lying to him.”
Casseck sat down across from him. “Lady Jacqueline’s information actually makes sense now. Starling is Mistress Rodelle’s secretary.”
“But why does she travel as a bride?” Quinn threw up a hand. “And why does she ask so many questions about the army?”
“You think she’s a spy?”
“She speaks Kimisar; did you know that?”
Casseck raised his eyebrows. “It was never in Mouse’s reports.”
“I speak Kimisar, and so do you. That doesn’t make us traitors.” Quinn ignored the look his friend gave him. “The other night she was reading a book on mining by a Kimisar geologist.”
“Heavy reading.”
“But not unusual from what Mouse has seen. Could mean nothing other than she likes rocks.”
“Alex.”
The seriousness in his friend’s voice made Quinn finally meet his eyes.
“We need information beyond what Mouse can learn.”
Quinn nodded reluctantly.
He needed to know what was in that ledger.
24
AFTER CHAPEL DAY services, Sage and Clare spent most of the second day in Lord Underwood’s library. Her friend devoured the books Sage picked out for her, and Sage alternately read and went over her ledger, adding what she’d gleaned from Charlie. The boy had readily answered every question she’d asked about the army; at the age of nine he knew much more than her. It only emphasized just how much Ash had avoided saying. What was he hiding?
Since Charlie was the captain’s brother, once she got the page talking, she focused on his background. He spilled more information about his home and family than even she could remember. The Quinns had a distinguished military history, and it seemed the sons were following in their father’s footsteps, the captain achieving his most recent promotion well before his peers. So either Quinn was quite accomplished, or as the general’s son everyone was motivated to make him seem so.
When she and Clare broke from their reading for the noon meal, Sage paid attention to the escort soldiers she saw. They were still anxious, posting their own guards on the walls and around the ladies’ quarters, which chilled her. Deep in their own country, they acted like they were in hostile territory. Maybe she could maneuver to talk with Lieutenant Casseck tonight and ask him about it.
Hoping Ash would appear for another reading lesson, Sage lingered in the library after Clare left to rest before the banquet. She wasn’t sure whether she was ready to confront him, but Sage found she missed his company. Or maybe she just missed how he always seemed glad to see her. She shook her head as she returned a book to the shelf. First Clare, and now Ash. Companionship was hard to accept at first, but having had a taste, she now craved it.
Clare was already dressed when Sage returned to their room. Sage offered to style her friend’s hair and Clare accepted, though she seemed strangely subdued. Silence was comfortable to Sage, and she worked Clare’s sleek brown curls into a fountain knot as she considered how to approach Lieutenant Casseck.
Sage suddenly realized Clare had asked a question. She pulled a hairpin from between her clenched lips. “What was that?”
“I said, do you already have a husband planned for me?”
“I don’t know,” Sage said. Clare’s question didn’t sound designed to gain a favor; it felt like fear. “I don’t really do the deals. I mostly collect information that goes into them. What kind of husband do you want?”
Clare looked down at her hands as they played with the ribbons of her bodice. “Just someone kind, really, and not terribly older than me.”
A memory clicked into place. Clare’s sister Sophia had married Count D’Amiran two years ago, and Darnessa commented once that no respectable matchmaker would’ve matched any girl to that cruel man. Sage pinned the last of Clare’s curls in place. “Does this have anything to do with your sister’s husband?” she asked.
“I guess. She’s not happy.” Clare sniffed like she was holding back tears. “He’s … not kind. And now she carries his child. The second actually.” Her words began to tumble out faster. “He got angry and pushed her down the stairs last year, and she lost the first baby. Now he just hits her.”
Sage sat on the bench and put her hand on Clare’s shoulder, which had begun to shake with the effort it took to keep from crying. Clare looked up at her with the wild fear of a trapped animal. “I didn’t want to come … Father lied … I’m only fifteen…” She sobbed, and without thinking Sage threw her arms around her friend and pulled her close.
A fierce protective feeling flowed through Sage as Clare cried out the fears she hadn’t allowed herself to show before. Sage rocked and soothed her friend. Uncle William may have been a prat, but he never would’ve done such a thing to her. “No,” she whispered over and over. “Never. I won’t let that happen to you.”
Eventually Clare’s sobs tapered off. “But what can you do?” she hiccuped.