Lady Avely's Guide to Guile and Peril, page 15
part #3 of Matronly Misadventures Series
She digested this in silence, her mind working quickly. “Am I allowed to talk of our past?”
“Yes, I suppose,” he allowed, “but you must not talk of his crimes, or his punishment. Your task is simply to soothe him and remind him that he is a subject of the Crown.”
Judith bit back a retort. She said calmly, “Very well. Take me to him at once.”
Drumpellier stepped away from the window. His face showed the first signs of discomfort. “You will have to wrap your arms around me, Lady Avely, so that the charm can carry us both.”
“Where will we arrive?” She devoutly hoped it was not in Dacian’s cell, where the sight might provoke him to tear off Drumpellier’s head off on the spot. On the other hand, that might be an excellent outcome.
“The tower room where we first met,” replied Drumpellier, and now he smiled. “It seems that our acquaintance is destined to be rather improper, Lady Avely.”
She froze him with a glare. “A matron is never improper.”
He lowered his eyes. “Of course not.” Then he held out an arm. “Shall we depart?”
Judith gritted her teeth. “Give me one moment.” She hastened to the door, and found Trebellow just outside, where he had clearly been listening, for he leapt backwards, eyes wide.
She ignored it. It was probably for the best that Trebellow knew everything. “Please tell Robert that I am going to Fort Pendennis. I leave the castle in his charge, and I should return by nightfall.”
“Certainly, ma’am.”
She shut the door again and marched up to Drumpellier. She grasped him around the waist and pulled him flush up against her, shutting her eyes. “Let us go.”
The sense of being a sheet shaken in the wind soon passed. Judith opened her eyes to find herself in the centre of the Pendennis tower room, surrounded by the imposing circle of grey stone. It had none of the comfort of the Tea Tower Room. As before, it was furnished only with Drumpellier’s large desk and one small rug, upon which they now stood.
Hastily, Judith detached herself. “Lead the way.”
Drumpellier brushed himself down and turned abruptly. They descended three flights, but instead of progressing further to the dungeon cell, he cut across to a different passage.
“This way.”
“You’ve moved him?” Judith felt it incumbent upon her to express surprise. “Why?”
“We thought he could do with some exercise.”
Again, she heard the faint dissonance of a lie. That certainly wasn’t the primary purpose of Dacian’s new regime. Judith began to suspect that they had intended to use him as a weapon all along. Why, after all, let a good Impactor go to waste? Especially one whose memory had gone and who would be a biddable soldier.
Except Dacian was not proving biddable. No surprise there.
She chewed her lip. How was she to play this? How would Dacian greet her? Fear touched her that he might have actually lost his mind, and that it was no performance. What if they had managed to force more Lethe down his throat after Wooten’s brave sacrifice? What if he was truly lost to her? She dared not think on it and instead wondered feverishly what she might communicate to him now.
They approached another deep-set door, and Judith drew a breath. This time it was guarded by two broad-chested infantrymen, both with rifles and grim expressions. No complacency this time in how they had assigned guard duty. Drumpellier stopped and exchanged low words with one of them.
“Is he improved?”
“No, sir. Still raving.”
“Has he said anything…different?”
“No, sir, unless you count bawling for cognac.”
“Did you give it to him?”
“One glass, sir. We have tried to be amiable, as you suggested, sir, but to no avail. He threatened to disembowel us.”
Drumpellier sighed and cast a glance back at Judith. “Prepare yourself, ma’am, for a difficult meeting.”
She glared back. “I blame you for that, Captain.”
“You must tell him that he must learn to behave as an English gentleman and a loyal subject.”
Judith did not deign to answer.
“I am serious,” Drumpellier threatened in a low voice. “You must obtain his cooperation, or it will be the worse for both of you.”
Reluctantly, she gave a tight nod.
Drumpellier stepped up to the door and shouted through it. “Sir, I have a visitor for you.”
Judith bridled at his lack of proper address, and perhaps Dacian was equally disgusted, for silence came from within.
“Sir!” shouted Drumpellier. “A friend of yours is here to see you. I am going to open this door and enter, but if you respond badly, both of you will suffer.”
Judith grimaced. Too late, she realised that Drumpellier might use her as a hostage for Dacian’s compliance. Assuming that Dacian even recognised her.
A growl finally emerged from the cell. “Who is it?”
“You will see when we enter.” Clearly, Drumpellier didn’t want to give away Judith’s identity: he wanted to see Dacian’s reaction for himself. He pulled a heavy key from his pocket and slipped it into the thick padlock. “Are you away from the door?”
“Yes, Goddammit.” It was a bellow. “This better be good, or I’ll wrench your head from your shoulders.”
“You can try,” the captain gritted out, “and if you succeed, you’ll be shot on the spot.”
There was silence again, as if Dacian was contemplating the benefits of such a bargain.
“Right.” Subtly, Drumpellier squared his shoulders. “You first,” he nodded at Judith, “and you behind me, Corporal Threadbow, with gun at the ready.”
Despicable coward, sending a woman in first. Judith felt her spine stiffen with fear as the corporal drew out a pistol and cocked it. She stepped forward, Drumpellier breathing down her neck.
He reached past her and slid back the heavy lock. Cautiously, he shoved the door open and gestured for Judith to enter.
In which a prisoner is contrary
It is hardest to be guileful when under the sway of strong emotion. Keep a calm head and you will do better at deceiving.
— from Lady Avely’s Guide to Guile and Peril
Compared to Dacian’s first cell, this one was empty of comfort—no rugs, cushions, or food. It was simply a hard, square room of stone.
The duke stood in the middle of the room. His black hair was in wild disarray, his cheeks shadowed, his eyes hooded. Only a pair of brown half-trousers covered him, leaving his chest and feet bare. His fists were loosely clenched before him and bound in manacles.
Judith let out an involuntary gasp of horror.
Dacian stared, impassive, his jaw etched in rock. Then his expression warped into anger.
“Who is this lady?” he growled. “What trickery now?”
Judith kept herself firmly in hand. She must not throw herself on him and weep upon his chest, as much as she may wish to do so. And she didn’t know what to think of this ferocious anger. It was difficult to parse a lie from the questions he threw at her. Should she be relieved that his acting passed muster? Or afraid that he had forgotten her completely?
“I am Mrs Judith Avely,” she said quietly, leaving her new title out of it. “I am your friend.”
Dacian snarled. “Oh, really? Like the rest of them here?”
She wondered what Drumpellier had told him. Behind her, the captain watched. She could feel his attention, as sharp as a hawk’s.
“You have forgotten me,” she said slowly, “but I remember you well. And I do not recall a beast.”
Dacian took a threatening step forward. “I do not recall anything, so why not a beast?”
Her shoulders almost sagged with relief, hearing the echo of a lie in his voice. He did remember something. Her? She kept her posture ramrod straight.
“Because you are an English gentleman,” she replied, mindful of Drumpellier’s instructions. She turned to the captain haughtily, stepping away from him slightly. “I must ask, sir, why have you bound his hands?”
Drumpellier’s lips thinned. “To keep him contained. Those are wristbreakers, so I do not have to constantly exert myself.”
She frowned at the implication. “You have imbued them with an Impacting charm?”
He nodded.
“You mean they cannot be broken?” She wanted to know what Dacian was dealing with; wanted him to hear it too.
Drumpellier seemed to guess her intent, for he gave a mirthless smile. “Worse, I’m afraid.” He gestured at a chain that hung in a loop through his crossbelt. “If I pull at this loop, the manacles will tighten unbearably. You can imagine the result, should I tighten it completely.”
Judith swallowed down bile. “It will break his wrists.”
“I assure you, I do not wish for that, any more than you do.”
Dacian growled, “Coward.” He lurched forward threateningly, but Corporal Threadbow raised his gun in a pointed manner.
Dacian stilled.
Judith licked her lips, turning to face him again. “Dacian, I beg you to calm yourself. I am certain that no one here wishes to break your arms.” Especially if Drumpellier intended to use him as a soldier. “You must show yourself to be reasonable, otherwise they will sedate your further.”
She widened her eyes meaningfully, hoping he would understand the threat of Lethe that still hung over him.
“They don’t want me sedated,” he snarled. “They were using me as a plaything yesterday, and I want no part of it.”
Judith glanced at Drumpellier accusingly. “What were you doing?”
Drumpellier remained wooden. “As I told you, we were allowing him some exercise. He partook in some wrassling matches against the other soldiers—without weapons, or power, you understand. It is a popular sport around here, and I thought it a good opportunity to see if he might follow the rules.”
“And did he?”
Drumpellier became dry. “Almost. He threw someone from a supine position, which is not permitted. Though he did seem familiar with the finer points of the sport.”
Judith nodded. “Indeed, his grace has undertaken wrassling before. Or so my butler, Trebellow, informed me. Perhaps those sorts of things are a visceral memory.”
Dacian raised his manacled hands. “Are you talking about me? I do not recall wrassling with any butler.”
“Not with my butler,” she assured him. “Though Trebellow would welcome the opportunity.” Dacian stared at her in growing confusion, and she hurried on. “I should think you would enjoy exerting your strength again, your grace. You might need it in the future.” That was as much as she could say, to hint that he must be ready to act. For an idea had begun to take seed in her mind, inspired by everything she had learned that day.
“Not if I am to be kept in this godforsaken keep for the rest of my life.” Dacian snapped.
Uneasily, she realised that there had been no talk of Dacian’s crimes or hearing. She remembered Drumpellier’s injunction not to mention it. What game was the captain playing? She looked over her shoulder, frowning at Drumpellier. “What have you told him?” she demanded, then she turned to Dacian. “What do you know?”
Dacian scowled. “Merely that I am a murderer, and that I must serve my punishment. You can forgive me for doubting it, when I cannot remember anything of the sort.”
Again, it was a lie. Judith bit her lip, trying to stay impassive. She might, after all, still be a stranger to him. And she was starting to feel Bemused, from the intense exertion of her Gift.
“You will continue to remember nothing,” snapped Drumpellier, “if you refuse to cooperate.”
Cooperate with what, exactly? And Drumpellier’s voice also clanged hollowly. Anger rose in Judith, like a fire suddenly doused with brandy. “How dare you! His grace has not even been tried, and already you are punishing him!”
Drumpellier gave her a warning look. “I am giving him a chance to prove his character, before it comes before the court.” He folded his arms across his chest, brushing the iron chain that hung on his cross-belt, and directed his next words to Dacian. “Might I add that if you prove yourself compliant, I will remove those cuffs. Furthermore, I shall even allow the return of your power. Then you can try fighting with your Gift. There is a form of wrassling, not so well known, that indulges in more difficult manoeuvres.”
Judith heard truth in these declarations, but she narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “I suppose you are a practitioner of the art.”
Drumpellier nodded shortly. “And if our prisoner should prove himself worthy, I will face him as an opponent.”
A gleam came into Dacian’s eyes, but Judith was unimpressed.
“No doubt you will ensure that your power is the greater,” she snapped, through gathering Bemusement. “I beg leave to suggest, sir, that it will not be a fair fight.”
“You go too far, ma’am.” Drumpellier’s jaw tightened.
Dacian bared his teeth. “You are the one hiding behind a bracelet, instead of fighting like a man.”
“If you can give me your word of honour,” said Drumpellier rigidly, “that you will obey orders of the Crown and Custos, then I will consider releasing you, and allowing you the freedom to fight.”
Dacian stared at Drumpellier for a long, hard moment. Then he shrugged his broad shoulders, took a few steps back, and threw himself upon a stone seat. “I will think on it.” He turned his hooded eyes upon Judith. “And you, ma’am, what is your relation to me? Are you some infernal cousin or sister, trying to rescue me?”
Judith almost choked. “Certainly not! We are much closer than…you have…” Then she realised what might be his intent: to protect her, and that she should not reveal their intimacies. “You have flirted with me, your grace, on more than one occasion,” she said coldly, in her best approximation of outraged dignity.
His gaze became sardonic. “Flirted? Really?”
“Yes.”
“Did I ask for your hand?”
“No,” she said icily.
“Perhaps you already have a husband?” he suggested. “A lucky man, no doubt.” He gave a leer.
Judith drew herself up haughtily. “I am a widow.”
His eyes lit up. “Oh, a widow! Now I understand!”
Judith saw his gaze travel to her bosom, and she drew a heaving breath. “Please do not insult me, your grace. I am a friend, trying to help you.”
He laughed, but it was a bitter sound, and he leant his head against stone. “Yet you come before me with soldiers at your back.”
She could not deny it, and she had to go along with his performance. Desperately, she hoped that it was a performance. What could she say or do to help him? She was aware that Drumpellier was closely scrutinising every word.
“There is no point dwelling on your indignities,” she said stiffly. “If the captain is offering you a way forward, you must take it. Have patience and reticence, and I am certain all will be well.”
Dacian scowled over her shoulder at Drumpellier. “You ask a woman to speak your piece.”
Yet Judith hoped he had somehow heard her warning, and her reassurance, even as he avoided her eyes. She tilted her head. “Are you sleeping well? I find that if I don’t have a proper sleep, I am quite unbearable.” It was another clue, she hoped, for him to be alert that night, if he could read between the lines.
She ignored the faint doubt at the back of her mind, which was now rather clouded. Dacian had given her no real sign of recognition, no hidden clue or word to show that he remembered her. Yet she ought to retreat before she said anything foolish. She turned to Drumpellier. “Are you satisfied now, Captain? Your prisoner seems calmer. I hope that you may now count on his cooperation.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dacian’s fists clench.
Drumpellier looked between them, unreadable. “I am glad of it. Lady Avely. Perhaps you can join me for some tea, now that your duty is done?”
She inclined her head, gracious.
The duke let his head thunk against the wall. “The tea is terrible. Much better to have drinking chocolate, ma’am, if you can find it.”
Judith tried to remain expressionless, even as her heart leapt within her. He did remember her. Their eyes met for a charged instant.
“Indeed.” She dropped a shallow curtsy. “Good day, your grace.”
His gaze dropped. His lips twisted. “Good day, ma’am.”
She turned and walked away. Every fibre of her being revolted against it, but she had to leave him behind.
Drumpellier followed her and opened the door. Corporal Threadbow kept his face to Dacian, gun still primed and backed out after them.
As the heavy door slammed into place, she turned ferociously. “You should take better care of him, Captain. He is not even properly clothed!”
Drumpellier strode past her. “He has refused other shirts. And we discovered an Illusion charm on his livery. I don’t suppose you know anything about that?”
“No,” she lied baldly.
“Speaking of charms,” said Drumpellier coldly, as he began up the stairs, “that diamond ring you gave me does not appear to work as a Travel charm.”
“I warned you,” said Judith, trying for an equally cool tone. “Its magick has been exhausted.”
“That may be so, but I warn you: if I find you Travelling into my domain again, I shall have no choice but to arrest you for treason. This is a military fort, and unauthorised trespass must be treated with the utmost severity.”
“My dear Captain,” replied Judith, “I have no wish to trespass upon your dreadful fort. Besides, even if I should do so, what good would it do? His grace does not remember me.”
Abruptly, Drumpellier spun round to face her on the landing. “On the contrary, I think he did recognise you.”
She hoped her shocked pause was not telling and drew herself up. “I certainly saw no sign of it.”
“That’s because you didn’t witness his behaviour this morning. He was a raging beast, a veritable demon possessed. Yet that little performance fell away as soon as you arrived on the scene.”
