Lady Avely's Guide to Guile and Peril, page 3
part #3 of Matronly Misadventures Series
Inside, Custodian House was simply furnished but elegant, clearly set up for gentlemen officers. The foyer was decorated with a painting of a battle scene, in front of which Drumpellier swung around.
“Hand it over now,” he snapped, “or it will be the worse for you.”
In which a deal is made
As much as one would like to be without guile, sometimes deceit is necessary.
— from Lady Avely’s Guide to Guile and Peril
Judith widened her eyes. “Hand over what?” She must not be seen to give in too easily.
“Do not trifle with me! The Travel charm!”
“Believe me, the charm has lost its power now,” she replied airily. “I’m certain I used the last of it. And you heard me before: it was a gift to the duke from his dear friend, and it has great sentimental value. I would much rather keep it.”
“I am sure you would,” said Drumpellier grimly. He took a step closer, looming over her as Ltn Greene cleared his throat at her back. “But you will give it to me, or I will have you arrested for treason!”
“Treason! Goodness me! A slightly excessive reaction!” Judith fumbled with her fingers and made a show of reluctantly pulling off the diamond ring she had obtained from Yvette. Hesitantly, she held it out to Drumpellier, who took it with commendable restraint, not snatching at all.
“Thank you.” He stepped back and managed a bow. “I apologise for my short manner, ma’am, but you must understand that this is a military fortification, and we are at war. I cannot have you disregarding my orders.”
“Certainly not, Captain, but as a Truth Discernor, I cannot disregard the course of justice either.” She leaned forward to murmur in his ear. “Please recall: I know that you are wearing a false name, and I will alert your superiors of the fact, if I must.”
Drumpellier’s expression hardened again. “Unfortunately for you, Lady Avely, my superiors are well aware of my false name. Indeed, they gave it to me.”
She backed away, staring, and he continued with a trace of smugness as he tucked her ring out of sight. “As an agent of the Custos, I was given this position and a different name to hide my purpose. You will find that your attempt at blackmail will not work, and furthermore, that the Custos will not be patient with any indiscretions.”
“But why, when we rode to Garvey House…” Judith trailed off. She had hinted at her knowledge then, and the captain had ceded a horse to her. She had thought that she might have a hold over him.
“Why did I allow you to dictate my actions? I did not want to give my game away, so I let you go ahead. Now, however, as Captain of this garrison, and as Head Custodian here, I command that you keep your silence regarding his grace and the presence of the Musor Custos.”
Judith knew the Custos were law unto themselves; she had only hoped they would show some regard to due process. Yet she also knew that the whole point of the Custos was that they dealt their justice from the shadows, inspiring fear and compliance in the Musor community with their mysterious indictments. Pressing her lips together, she wondered how to proceed now that one of her cards had been taken away from her.
Drumpellier gentled his voice. “The Musor Custos have long been guardians of justice, and I admire your tenacity, Lady Avely. You must trust us to do as we see fit to curtail any misuse of power.” He mustered a smile. “May I offer you a cup of tea? It appears that you have had a rather long night, and, whether we like it or not, you are now my guest.”
Before she could respond, he turned on his heel and led the way into a neat sitting room. Judith followed crossly (with Ltn Greene right behind) and entered a room with a whitewashed ceiling upheld by dark wooden beams, and small paned windows looking onto the ocean. The sky was slowly lightening with the faint luminescence of predawn, the sea a murky grey. A pang of anxiety shot through her for Marigold and Yvette. As she took a seat on a hard-backed chair, she re-evaluated her tactics. It was clear Drumpellier was now trying to disarm her. Yet two could play that game.
Drumpellier sat facing the door and asked Ltn Greene to alert the housekeeper to their needs. The lieutenant rapped his heels sharply and withdrew.
“Well, Lady Avely,” Drumpellier leaned forward with a rueful expression. “We have begun on a rather difficult footing, but allow me to remedy that. We are to be neighbours, if it is true that you are to take up residence in Castle Lanyon.” He ended on a faint note of interrogation.
Judith adjusted her mobcap, tucking a curl of hair behind her ear. “Oh yes, I am the new Marchioness of Lanyon, by decree of His Majesty. To be entirely frank, that is partly why I used the Travel charm. It brought me much closer to my new home, which I am overdue to inspect.”
Drumpellier did not seem unduly impressed. He said carefully, “I am afraid that you might find Castle Lanyon is not as salubrious as you might hope—it is, after all, situated on a tidal island, so it is difficult to maintain. The caretaker there, a fellow by name of Trebellow, does his best, but it is rundown. Moreover,” he added, “it is reputed to be haunted with a desperate soul who casts a pall of dread over the place.”
Judith raised her brows. “Haunted? Surely you don’t believe that.” She could hear a note of satire in his voice, but she did not want to test her Gift too much, else she would become Bemused. That her mind was still relatively clear meant that Marigold must be not too far away; the vampiri bond protected against Bemusement, especially when they were near to each other.
“No,” admitted the captain, “but you will have to face down the rumours of ghosts if you are to find more servants. Currently, I think there are only about seven who live and work at the castle, though there are others who run the dairy.”
“Ah yes, the creamery. I look forward to sampling the wares.”
“A colony of puffins is also in residence, along with the cows. You will have your work cut out for you simply in managing the livestock.”
She did not want to be distracted with such matters or cordiality, but just then, the housekeeper came in with a tea tray and plate of buttered buns.
At Drumpellier’s nod, Judith mechanically began pouring the hot steaming liquid into delicate cups. As she passed him one, Drumpellier said, “I suspect that if you are a Truth Discernor, Lady Avely, you know how to lie.”
She picked up her cup and took a sip, ignoring this slur. “As a Truth Discernor, I have a special regard for the truth. You must hear what I have to say in the duke’s defence, informally at least.” Hoping she could appeal to his sense of honour, Judith began describing the mitigating circumstances to Dacian’s killing blow upon Lord Garvey. Captain Drumpellier’s brow creased thoughtfully at intervals, but his face remained aloof.
At the end of her recitation, he absentmindedly pulled an oblong pebble out of his coat pocket. It was so deep blue as to be black, worn smooth by the passage of water. Judith recognised it as a Talisman Stone of schorl, the stone of Impactors. It seemed to soothe Drumpellier as he ran his fingers over it.
“Well?” she asked. “What say you? Are the circumstances not extenuating?”
He put the schorl down on the table with a click, a reminder of his power. “A fairly convoluted story, and it relies upon your own perception of the truth. Yet—if you are a Truth Discernor, you could prove your Gift to me.”
“Pardon me?” The impertinence of the man, to question her Gift! Judith raised a hand to the gold chain on her neck, pulling out her own Talisman Stone; a large lapis lazuli given to her by no less than His Majesty himself. It was the stone of Discernors, and a small proof of her claim.
Drumpellier eyed the pendant. “Indeed. Well, I have a troubling matter on hand, and I could do with some help.”
“Oh?” Judith took a buttered bun from the plate, and a large bite. It was accepting victuals from the enemy, but she hadn’t had food for hours now. She stared at the captain as she chewed, in no mood to help him. He hadn’t paid one jot of attention to her story! And Dacian was languishing in a cell without his memory.
Drumpellier leaned back. “Three days ago, one of my soldiers was found dead on the shore near Castle Lanyon. If you can discover the truth of his demise, I will allow you to tender a statement in the duke’s defence.”
Judith raised her brows. Was he simply trying to be rid of her? Yet the captain looked rather intent, even as he made a show of leaning nonchalantly against his chair, his cup held idly in his hands. And his voice did not ring hollow.
“I cannot do much to investigate it myself,” he added. “I am occupied here, facing the threat of invasion. I cannot waste more time with what appears simply to be death by drowning, despite my suspicions, when Bonaparte could start ferrying his troops into England any day now.”
“Only if our navy fails us, which I doubt will prove to be the case.”
“Nonetheless, I am fully occupied. Whereas you will be going to Lanyon Isle soon enough and can make discreet inquiries.”
Judith weighed him; he took a sip of tea. She took another bite of her bun, feeling as if she ought to bide her time before she answered one way or the other. Did he really expect her to cooperate with him when he was keeping Dacian locked up in a cell? The bread was dry in her mouth.
“The matter is made more curious,” he continued, “by the fact that Sgt Finlay’s body appeared to be bruised and battered. The Pendennis surgeon assures me this could have been caused by the battering of waves and rocks shortly after he died, but the back of the head was injured in a way that provokes my suspicion.”
“You think someone hit him on the head before he drowned?”
“The surgeon is of the opinion that Sgt Finlay simply hit himself on the rocks while swimming, but I have my doubts. And I can tell you who to question,” he said, as if she had already agreed to investigate. “First, there is your caretaker butler, Trebellow, who has been sighted in various towns along this coast, away from his station, and possibly up to no good. I would dearly like some insight into the truth of his movements and whether he might have any reason to hit a soldier over the head. There is also Cador, the fisherman who found the body: a taciturn type. Then there are the twin footmen at Castle Lanyon, Kynver and Kade.”
Judith grimaced. “I suppose you think the twins are suspicious just by virtue of being twins.”
“Well, yes, for they are identical,” replied Drumpellier, as if this needed no further explanation. “Like Trebellow and Cador, they are Cornishmen who keep to themselves. They do not trust officers of the Crown and did not take kindly to my questions.”
It was true that Cornish people did not regard themselves as English (despite living in England), coming from Breton stock and having their own language as they did.
“They won’t trust me, either,” Judith pointed out, with another sip of tea.
“Yes, but that shouldn’t matter, should it? You must simply question them and use your Gift to determine whether they are lying.”
Judith knew it was not so simple. “People lie about all sorts of things, all the time.”
He lifted a brow. “Oh, is that so? Is your Gift not always reliable?” He let that land. “If you can discover the truth behind Sgt Finlay’s death, you will prove your Gift and your loyalty. Who knows? I might even offer you a position in the Custos if you show enough acumen.”
Judith stiffened, not wanting anything to do with the power that now held Dacian captive. Wary of showing her disdain, she took another bite of bread. But she would be damned if she’d help this impertinent captain. Though if there had been a foul deed committed at her new castle, she might investigate privately anyway. Her family were due to visit, and she couldn’t have any villains lurking about.
Drumpellier seemed to sense her hostility, for he tilted his head. “Lady Avely, let me be clear. You are not in a position to negotiate on this matter. You illegally entered my fort in the dead of night, yet you wish me to listen to your testimony as a Truth Discernor. How do I know I can trust you? You might be a French spy for all I know. You must understand that I will not countenance your interference with the duke’s trial—unless you investigate this death for me.”
She swallowed the claggy bread and took a sip of bitter tea. It appeared she wasn’t going to be given a choice. However, as Drumpellier said, the investigation might prove a simple matter to her Discerning ear. At the very least, reporting her findings to the captain would give her an excuse to visit Pendennis Fort again and see Dacian.
“Very well,” she said at last. With a belated attempt to assert authority, she added, “I will look into it, on the proviso that you will allow me to present my testimony.”
“We have a deal.” Drumpellier smiled and picked up the schorl, slipping it back into his pocket with an air of satisfaction. “You will have the help of Miss Onslow at Castle Lanyon: she is a scholar studying the extensive collection of books in the Lanyon library.” Some private warmth glimmered in his eyes, and Judith wondered how well the captain knew this librarian. “I have already warned her to be on the lookout for anything untoward. There is also your housekeeper, Mrs Ulrich, though she is a rather melancholy type. And Baron Quarles might be visiting again soon; he declares the castle an ideal vantage point for stargazing. He was in residence when the soldier died.”
“It seems the castle is well frequented by visitors.”
“Oh, both Baron Quarles and Miss Onslow are there by standing royal invitation. They have been warned of your imminent occupancy, and if you wish them to leave, they will do so. However, you might very well find that you are glad of the company in that draughty pile.”
“Perhaps.” Judith doubted it; she would have Marigold’s companionship until her children arrived, and more important things to worry about, like how to rescue a duke who couldn’t even remember his own name. Her own mind was starting to feel woolly at the edges, as the cost of her Gift began to take its toll.
Drumpellier stood, his posture once more resuming a military bearing. “Once you have eaten, you may sleep in the Custodian guest room. Ltn Greene can escort you to Castle Lanyon this afternoon. There is no point going now, as the tide currently covers the causeway.” He gave a small bow. “I hope we can be of assistance to each other, Lady Avely.”
“Indeed,” she said dryly.
“One more thing.” He turned at the door. “The ghost at Castle Lanyon—I confess I am intrigued. It might have something to do with Sgt Finlay’s death. I suggest you find a discreet way to investigate it, without drawing attention to your interest. The last I heard of it, the ghost had established itself in the cellars, so you would do well to quietly inspect them. We wouldn’t want anyone to have prior warning and hide the real reason for the rumours.”
Judith bowed her head in acknowledgment. She didn’t mention that the cellars were already of great interest to her, as they were intended to be the new residence of a roost of vampiri bats. These bats were, she hoped, currently on their way to England, escorted by her own children across the Channel, rescued from the isle of Sark.
It sounded like she would have her hands full in making the castle inhabitable. She let her shoulders droop in a show of tiredness which was all too real. “It sounds a fascinating mystery, but for now I will be glad to sleep.”
Drumpellier gave a short nod. “The housekeeper will show you to your room.”
The guest room was small and clean, with the same dark-beamed ceiling and whitewashed walls, and another window looking out to the wide vista of Falmouth Bay. The sky was a soft grey, tinged with pink, and Judith felt another flash of anxiety for Marigold.
As soon as the housekeeper shut the door, she went straight to the window and opened it, calling in a low whisper.
After a long moment, Marigold’s brown creature shape flitted down to the sill and tumbled inside. Resolving into her human form, she vaulted onto the floor and stared up at Judith, twirling the topaz ring around one of her wrists. “Well? Are you under arrest?”
“Not yet.” Judith smiled and took the ring back, slipping it into her pocket. “Thank you, my dear. Did you speak to Wooten? Yvette?”
Marigold shrugged. “Wooten is still trying to explain matters to the duke, who seems to be more than obtuse than usual. Yvette is still lurking about, as far as I know. Perhaps she is trying to seduce another soldier.”
As if to refute this, another bat swooped into the room. The black arrow twisted into Yvette’s shapely form and landed gracefully on the bedside table. “I was not seducing a soldier.” Yvette wrapped her silk cloak around herself with a regal air. “My tastes run in a different direction.” Her eyes slid in Marigold’s direction.
Marigold harrumphed, even as a faint blush suffused her cheeks. “You were shameless, strolling up those steps, undulating your hips like that!”
Yvette smirked. “I’m glad you appreciated it.”
Judith thought it odd that Marigold was suddenly objecting to nakedness, but she turned her attention to Yvette. “We were grateful for your intervention, Miss Belfleur. Did you return to the cell after you left?”
“No, I went to feed from a cow. I haven’t supped in days.”
Marigold snorted, and Judith started at the reminder. “Marigold, I must feed you now, quickly, before the sun rises!” She scooped her up and carried her to the bed. Rolling up her sleeve, she offered her wrist. While the vampiri gently sucked on her vein, Judith hurriedly recounted Drumpellier’s blackmailing, and how she must now travel to Castle Lanyon and investigate a soldier’s death. They also hastily arranged a way of sending messages to and from Pendennis and Castle Lanyon, determining that Wooten could fly halfway to Penrose Hill and meet Marigold with news, two nights from now.
“By then, I hope we will have solved the mystery of the death, or come up with some sort of plan,” said Judith. “And while Wooten flies, perhaps you, Miss Belfleur, could keep watch over the duke.”
Marigold pulled away from the vein to scowl in Yvette’s direction. “I think not. How do we know if we can trust her, after all she did to me?”
