Through a Dark Glass

Though his financial situation was not as bad as my father’s, he was having difficulties. Three nights ago, he’d been here at the castle playing cards. The king’s first cousin, the Duke of Ariennes, had joined the game, and Lord Moreau ended up playing credit—hoping to win a large hand. Instead, he’d lost four hundred pieces of silver to the duke. With a smile, Moreau had promised to pay the debt before leaving for home.

He couldn’t. He didn’t have the money, and he couldn’t borrow it from anyone here lest his situation become known. His plan was to wait until after the council’s vote and then fake receiving a note that his wife was ill at home. She’d not accompanied him this year. He hoped the duke would believe he’d simply forgotten the debt due to panic over his wife’s health. Once home and away from the other nobles, he might be able to raise the money. Or . . . the duke was incredibly wealthy, and he might even overlook the debt out of sympathy for Moreau dealing with an ill wife.

After reading these thoughts, I pulled from Lord Moreau’s mind and excused myself. All Jarrod would have to do was threaten to put a word into the duke’s ear that Moreau planned to leave without paying. Then the issue would become a matter of honor and payment would be demanded. When it was discovered that Moreau couldn’t pay, his standing would be ruined.

I took this information directly to Jarrod.

He smiled and nodded. “Good.”

We had four votes.

The next day I went after Baron Augustine. He was an old friend of my family’s and falling into conversation with him was easy. However, once I’d gotten him to focus on secrets, I was uneasy by what I found in his mind. He was worried and unsettled. He’d been embroiled in somewhat hurried negotiations with Viscount Bretagne—to marry his daughter to the viscount’s son, Richard.

The wedding was to take place here at the castle in a week.

Unfortunately, Augustine’s daughter was two months pregnant, by one of the house guards, and he was desperate that the wedding should take place before Richard learned of this. Afterward, the Bretagnes would keep the secret for the sake of their own family’s honor.

After reading his thoughts, I wavered. This information would give Jarrod a good deal of power that stretched far into the future. Should the child prove to be male, it would mean the heir to the Bretagne was illegitimate, and Jarrod wouldn’t hesitate to use this against them.

Still, I had little choice.

Jarrod would be waiting tonight and expect me to have something of use.

He was thrilled when I told him and actually patted me on the back. “Good girl.”

I wondered if he knew how condescending he sounded.

We had five votes.

The next day proved a disaster. I decided to go after the oldest man on the council. At the age of sixty-two, Lord Cloutier had held his seat the longest. I tried him because I thought anyone who’d been in power for so long must have some secret he wished to be kept.

To my alarm, as I read him, I found nothing. He was a man of ethics with nothing to hide.

Jarrod snarled when I told him. He raised one hand but stopped himself and didn’t strike me.

“You’ve got two days,” he said.

On the fourth day, at a gathering for lunch, I tried Lord du Guay. He was a quiet man, and I wondered if his mild demeanor might be a cover for something darker. I was not wrong, but once I got him to turn his mind to any harbored secrets, what I saw was beyond unsettling. I almost recoiled from his thoughts.

He was man with penchant for what I’d heard referred to as “rough wooing.” As a girl, I’d never known what it meant. Living with the Volodanes, I could imagine a bit more, but in truth I had no real idea.

Lord du Guay liked violence with sex, and he liked to be the one meting out the violence. His wife knew of this penchant, but he valued her and cared deeply what she thought, so he’d convinced her that he’d managed to box up all his blacker needs and desires and put them away.

He had not.

Last month, he’d given in and raped his wife’s new lady’s maid, and in the process he’d also choked her. He’d not meant to kill her, but he had. Tragically, none of his peers would care much about the life of a maid, but his wife had been fond of the girl.

In panic, he’d disposed of the body himself, burying it in the forest behind his manor.

Feeling ill, I drew myself from his thoughts and excused myself.

All Jarrod need do was threaten to send a fast rider with a message for du Guay’s wife.

But this time, I didn’t go to Jarrod first.

When it was time to dress for dinner, I met Rolf in our room, and I sent Miriam away.

He glanced at me. “Don’t you need her to lace you up and do your hair?”

I didn’t answer. “Do you know what your father has had me doing these past days?”

He frowned. “Yes.”

His frown was colored by discomfort. Did he prefer to think he might win the seat on his own merit as opposed to blackmail?

“We now have the votes of five men in our pockets, and I have information that will ensure the sixth.”

Discomfort vanished. “You do? Have you told my father?”

I shook my head. “Not yet. I want something first.”

In all the time we’d been together, I’d never asked him for anything and I wasn’t sure how he’d react.

“You want something?” he asked. He looked at me as if I were a stranger. “What? Money?”

“When have I ever been interested in money? Once you have the seat, you’ll turn your hand to increasing the nation’s military. I don’t want you draining the common people dry in your efforts.”

His expression turned incredulous first and then angry. He stepped closer, towering over me. “Are you telling me you wish a voice in national affairs?”

I didn’t flinch. “Yes. You need me to secure the seat at all. After that, in the years to come, you’ll need me to know who is on your side and who has turned against you. You’ll need me the length of your career in politics, and I am saying that if you wish for my help, you’ll give consideration to the lives and needs of the people.”

He stared at me, speechless.

“I’m not saying I don’t believe in a strong military,” I went on. “I’m simply saying that while on the council, you should suggest other methods for raising funds than increasing taxes until the towns and villages are starving. If the people are strong, the nation is strong. Surely you understand that.”

His expression wavered, but he still looked at me as if I were a stranger to him. “And from where else should we raise these funds?”

“You can start with the coffers of the nobles themselves. Go to those who can most afford to be patriotic. In the case of war, you’ll need the common men to fight. Strong, loyal men volunteer and fight well. Weak, starving men have to be conscripted. Strong women left at home can work the farms. This is only wise policy.”

He stepped back. “Megan,” he whispered.

“I want a voice in some matters,” I said. “Do we have a bargain?”

He was quiet for a long moment and then slowly nodded.

Turning away, I headed for the door. “I’ll go to your father now.”



When the council met to vote, they cloistered themselves away around a long table inside a room with two solid oak doors.

At least sixty people stood in the large passage outside those doors, awaiting the result.

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