“H e died sitting upon the shite hole,” Magnus said in a low voice.

“I’ve had a few soldiers remove his body and wrap it tightly in canvas, but he must be returned to Haydon Square, and it would be a gesture of goodwill on the part of the king to permit the use of one of his wagons for the transport. ”

He was speaking to a tall man with receding dark hair and a scar on his lip, but the man was one of Edward’s premier advisors. In fact, the young king hardly made a move without advice, or approval, from Hugh Despenser the Elder, and that was why Magnus had come to him.

However, he was a man without a heart or a soul, as often reflected in his dark and mysterious eyes. Magnus didn’t like or trust the man, but he was an unfortunate and necessary evil when it came to dealing with the king.

As Magnus reported on the death of a guest at the glorious feast, Despenser showed no compassion. All he could do was grunt unhappily.

“God’s bleeding Bones,” he muttered. “Daventry, you say?”

Magnus nodded. “He had a hemorrhage of some kind,” he said. “There was a good deal of blood everywhere, so he simply bled out with whatever it was. But I wish to keep this quiet and remove his body so no one at the feast is the wiser. Especially the king.”

Hugh nodded firmly. “Agreed,” he said. Then he waved a hand. “Get him out of here, de Wolfe. Where is his family?”

Magnus shook his head. “I do not know, my lord,” he said. “He came with a companion.”

Hugh frowned. “A companion?” he repeated. “A retainer?”

“Nay, my lord.”

“Then who?” Hugh asked. “The man has a wife and son and, from what I’ve heard, a son who is not fond of his father.”

Magnus nodded faintly. “I have heard that also.”

Hugh continued. “The wife has some kind of disease that has turned her mind to waste,” he said. “And I’ve heard the son has a gambling problem.”

“We all have issues in our families, my lord.”

Hugh gave him a half-grin. “Except for de Wolfe,” he said. “You have no issues that I know of, and you make me sick because of it. How unfair.”

He meant it as a jest, and Magnus smiled weakly. “We are power-hungry haters of the Scots, my lord,” he said. “Have you not heard that about us?”

That actually made Hugh laugh, and he wasn’t the laughing sort. “Thank God for the Crown of England that you are,” he said. But his smile, an unnatural gesture, quickly faded. “You did not answer my question. Who is his companion?”

“A courtesan, my lord.”

“Oh? Do you know her?”

“Delaina de Courant, my lord.”

Hugh’s eyes widened as he recognized the name. “ Her? ” he said. “She is with Daventry now?”

“She accompanied him this evening, my lord.”

Hugh’s dark eyes began to glimmer. “God’s Bones,” he said, chuckling with delight. “So that is where she went? I had wondered.”

“My lord?”

It was a question as to why Hugh should be concerned with something as minor as a courtesan, as if she were actually something important in the grand scheme of things.

Hugh nodded in response. “Surely you know she is one of the Seven Jewels of London,” he said. “Those fine, well-educated, and overwhelmingly beautiful courtesans that find their way into the beds and purses of the wealthiest men in England. The Ruby used to be with the king’s father, you know.”

“I had heard, my lord,” Magnus said. He hesitated before continuing. “But she seems terribly young to have been with him several years ago. She would have been a mere child.”

Hugh nodded. “That is true,” he said. “Have you not heard the story, from your brother Cassius, mayhap?”

“I have not, my lord.”

Hugh rubbed his hands together gleefully.

“The Seven Jewels of London, they say, were selected by none other than Edward himself,” he said.

“Before he married the fair Margaret, I mean. After Eleanor’s death, he was eager to have more sons, so he began collecting the most beautiful daughters of noblemen that he could find.

I suppose not for marriage, but a man can have a few bastards running about to remind him that he is still virile.

But Delaina came to Edward in a unique way. ”

Magnus wasn’t one to relish gossip, and Hugh was the king of the court gossips, but in this case, Magnus found himself interested about the magnificent lady he’d just spent time consoling in the wake of her lord’s death.

His curiosity about her was growing, so against his better judgment, he responded.

“How?” he asked.

Hugh snorted lewdly. “From what I remember, he took her in payment for a debt,” he said. “From the Earl of Somersby, I think, but I’m not certain. In any case, the earl owed Longshanks some taxes that he’d tried to steal away from the man, and in payment for those taxes, Edward took Lady Delaina.”

Magnus’ brow furrowed in confusion. “He bartered with her?”

Hugh nodded. “Or so I have heard,” he said. “Bartered and sold. Rumor has it that Edward sent her to Margit Barkwith because he saw the value in such a beautiful woman and wanted her to be… educated. Men pay well for such services, in fact. She’s been used for her value more than once.”

“What does that mean?”

“In exchange for a debt owed,” Hugh said.

“You know—if a man needs to pay a debt, he uses what value he has, and Lady Delaina is quite valuable. I’ve heard she has even been exchanged for property.

As I recall, she was the most beautiful of the Jewels, with red hair and blue eyes.

At least, she was a beauty when she was younger.

Mayhap she is even more of a beauty now.

But that brings about an important point…

now that Daventry is gone, she has no lord and master. She could be of great use.”

Magnus didn’t like the sound of that at all.

Not that he had any attachment to Delaina, but Hugh was an unscrupulous man, and that didn’t sit well with Magnus when it came to a woman he’d just met.

It was madness and he knew it, but he could see in Hugh’s expression that he wanted to get his hands on one of the Seven Jewels of London.

The one Magnus happened to have met.

“I will see to Daventry’s body, my lord,” Magnus said, changing the subject because he was feeling unsteady with the way the conversation was going. “I will put de Winter in charge whilst I am seeing to this task.”

He started to walk away, heading toward the perimeter of the hall that was full of sweaty, smelly bodies eating and drinking, but Hugh stopped him.

“Wait,” he said. “Bring her to me. I would see this Jewel of London. It has been years since I saw the woman. She was a magnificent child then. I can only imagine what she has grown into.”

That was an understatement. Magnus didn’t have words for what she’d grown in to, but in the same breath, he knew he wasn’t going to bring Lady Delaina to Despenser. If the man wanted her, he could find her. Magnus wasn’t about to bring that delicate creature into the lion’s den.

He didn’t even acknowledge the command. He simply turned away and headed back the way he had come.

He’d left Lady Delaina with one of his knights, a big, powerful, but painfully shy man with a speech impediment named Loring St. Aldwyn.

He trusted Loring with the lady, mostly because he was positively terrified of women and would be disinclined to speak with her.

He would simply guard her. And there was no better guard dog than Loring St. Aldwyn.

Even though Magnus skirted the hall to stay away from the festivities in the center of it, he still ran into pockets of men, drunk and fighting or laughing.

He managed to move around them, finding his way out into the cool, dark evening.

The path from the hall led across a manicured bailey, designed with patches of gardens, and toward the gatehouse where the Daventry carriage and escort was already waiting.

Before he’d gone to seek Despenser, he’d ordered a wagon brought forth, and one was already waiting with a canvas-wrapped body atop it.

He went straight to the carriage.

Delaina was sitting there, wrapped in a heavy fur and brocade cloak to match the fine dress she was wearing.

She had a hood pulled up over her head, and she’d been staring off into the bailey impassively as he approached.

When she caught sight of him, she sat up a little, looking at him rather anxiously.

“Did you inform the king, my lord?” she asked.

Magnus nodded. “I informed Lord Despenser, and he will inform the king,” he told her. “Lord Daventry is on the wagon behind the carriage. When you arrive at Haydon Square, are there servants who can bring him inside?”

She sat back against the carriage, and for the first time, Magnus could see defeat in her expression. “Aye, my lord,” she said quietly. “There are servants to bring him inside.”

“Good,” Magnus said. “I am certain the king will wish to know the arrangements for his funeral. May I send word to you tomorrow once you’ve had time to speak to a priest?”

She looked at him strangely. “Send word if you wish, my lord,” she said. “But I will not be there. You may send it in care of Lord Daventry’s majordomo, a man named Eustace von Vechta. He will be able to give you any news.”

His gaze lingered on her for a moment. “Where are you going?”

Somehow, the formalities seemed to drop in that question. Up until that point, he’d been completely professional with her. Proper address was observed. But that all changed with that question because it was one of concern. He didn’t know why he should be concerned, but he was.

In reply, she smiled thinly. “My lord is dead,” she said. “I am no longer welcome in his home, so I will be departing this night.”

“And go where?”

She hesitated. “You will forgive me, my lord, but that is not your concern.”

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