Page 2

Gavin

L ong shadows stretched across the study. Candlelight flickered over his desk from the plain chandelier overhead. Papers lay before him, unseen and untouched for some time. Sitting with his hands clasped over his midsection, Gavin leaned back in his chair.

Why had that woman come to his estate?

Obviously, the position in his household was a coveted spot, but the opening had hardly been announced in the archduchy’s paper, let alone a publication in Caroshire where Lord Ventner’s estate was located. Could word truly spread that quickly?

Or had his plan worked so quickly? He’d have to ask for a paper to be brought from Caroshire to be certain.

Staring at the shadows that ebbed and flowed with the clouds, Gavin’s mind churned over an endless sea of possibilities. They all hinged on one fact and one fact alone. In all the years Gavin had known Lord Ventner and visited his estate, never once had he seen her. Adelaide. Surely he’d remember someone with such brilliant green eyes. Or who radiated an air of such peace that it stirred his heart and seemed to draw him to her. It was strange how someone like that tried so hard to be invisible, and yet, when he’d told her to, she’d managed to meet his eyes.

She was a most curious woman. Gavin didn’t know what to make of her and her appearance at Castle Belmont and, by virtue, his life. All he could do was wait patiently until Thomas came and put an end to his endless conspiracies.

After all, Adelaide hadn’t lied about her mother. That he was sure of. Gavin couldn’t say if he believed all she’d said, but he did believe someone very close to Adelaide was ill.

Everything else was dependent upon Thomas’s report. The best lies bore some truth. It would make it easier to build a persona believable enough to gain entry to some of Kordouva’s most powerful houses, his own included. Then there was the timing to consider. Adelaide had appeared much too soon after he’d ordered the advertisement to be printed to have made it all the way from Caroshire.

But if her mother were truly ill, perhaps Adelaide had already left Caroshire and returned home, hoping to find work. Couldn’t her appearance be mere coincidence? Would the Master of Thieves really fall prey to an obvious trap such as Castle Belmont hiring a maid when he hadn’t hired any staff in close to three years?

Pushing back his chair, Gavin stretched his stiff muscles, shaking out his legs, and took a few stilted steps toward the window. He would be glad if he didn’t travel ever again. Or, at least, if he hadn’t the need to travel as swiftly or hard ever again.

If it wasn’t for their cargo, he and William could have stopped more frequently and taken their time. Aves and Viktor certainly wouldn’t have minded the slower pace. He’d have to bring them carrots in the morning to make up for it.

Looking out over his mother’s prized gardens, Gavin’s eyes gravitated in the direction of the stables beyond them. Maybe he should deliver their gift tonight and try to get back into Aves’s good graces as soon as he could. Though the majestic steed hadn’t so much as whinnied at their brisk travel, Gavin couldn’t help but feel guilt for what the last fortnight had been for him. If his body ached, it was a safe bet to wager that Aves and Viktor would need some time to recover as well before Gavin’s cousin, King Jameson Greycove, sent him on another mission to ensure the sovereignty of the kingdom.

Gavin rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Not all of his cousin’s errands were of equal importance, but this one…

This one was unlike any other. He wondered if Jameson understood the power he’d just gifted him, or if he was wholly ignorant of what their bounty was truly capable of—and the threat it could pose if it fell into the wrong hands.

An artifact that could amplify the magic of its user…Gavin pressed his lips together. In the hands of Jameson, it wouldn’t have a terrible impact on the world, as there would presumably be more powerful mages than even him. But in the hands of someone like Lady Alyton, the Eye of Behelwer could be catastrophic.

At the mere thought of Lady Alyton, Gavin’s mood soured. It wasn’t any secret that Lady Alyton sought a power she couldn’t herself possess. Control, influence, the hand of the king. She’d even tried to propose marriage to Gavin, no doubt settling for the title of “archduchess” if she couldn’t be queen. He feared she’d stop at nothing to wield power over others, and if his suspicions that the infamous Master of Thieves—or “Mistress Scrabs” as she was sometimes known—and Lady Alyton were one and the same, his concern was all the more valid.

Strong raps called Gavin’s attention away from the window.

“Enter.”

“If His Grace isn’t busy,” the airy voice of Belmont’s steward, Thomas, drifted over from the doorway, “I should like to make my report.”

Gavin regretfully turned his back on the window and gestured for Thomas to join him inside the office.

“What do you make of her?” he asked once the door was firmly shut against prying ears.

“Adelaide seems quiet, but not timid. I believe she has great potential, even in spite of her wrist,” Thomas started, staring at him pointedly. Gavin sighed and meant to offer an excuse but found he hadn’t the time. “She believes she will be fine by tomorrow, though I am no physician. Until her wrist is healed, she will be given lighter duties. I do have one concern though, Your Grace.”

Gavin’s lips twisted into a frown. “Which is?”

Thomas pulled a folded letter from the inner pocket of his waistcoat. “I believe her letter of recommendation was forged.”

“What makes you think so?” Gavin asked. He accepted the offered letter and glanced over it. Upon first inspection, it seemed like Lord Ventner’s writing to him. Squinting, he studied it with a harsh eye.

“If you look at the spacing of the first few lines, you’ll notice slight flooding of the letters, meaning someone hesitated or was taking their time with their crafting of the letter. This does not appear in the later paragraphs, as the letters are noticeably lighter and thinner as they became more confident in their writing.” Gavin nodded, knowing well enough that Thomas, the man who’d had a hand in helping to raise him, wasn’t quite finished. “And I happen to know on good authority that Lord Ventner, like his father, uses a particular ink. This is not it. It’s much too thin, cheap.”

Gavin tossed the letter carelessly down on his desk. His lips quirked into a small smile. “Would that authority be you, Thomas?”

“It would be, Your Grace.” Thomas returned his smile, straightening just a bit as though pleased Gavin had remembered his previous tenure as the late Lord Ventner’s steward. But the smile faded away, and with it the humor of the previous moment. “How would you like to proceed regarding Adelaide, Your Grace? I know you had asked that the position be hers, but given this development, it seems counterintuitive to allow her near-limitless access to the estate.”

Gavin clasped his hands behind his back. Studying the carpet, he began to pace. His mind spun, returning to his earlier theories and adding to the heap of potential accusations that had accumulated in his mind. Even more than that, his curiosity nagged at him. Coming to a halt, Gavin closed his eyes and took a breath before facing Thomas once more. He thought of the advertisement and his hopes that Mistress Scrabs would answer it once more. “Keep an eye on her. We’ll proceed carefully until we know more about her and what her intentions are. I want to be certain of who she is before we take any action.”

“As you wish, Your Grace.” Thomas bowed his head. “Is there anything else I can do for you before taking my leave?”

“No.” Gavin shook his head, plopping back down in his desk chair. “Thank you and goodnight, Thomas.”

“Goodnight, Your Grace.”

As the door clicked shut behind the steward, Gavin let out a heavy sigh.

Whatever Adelaide had come here for, he was certain it was for no good cause. His gaze dropped to the letter on his desk. Taking hold of it, Gavin skimmed over it once more, trying to pick out anything that could direct him in discovering Adelaide’s motive. But after several long minutes of examining it and holding it up to the candlelight, nothing revealed itself to him. So instead, he resigned to add it to the mounting pile of papers related to his investigation.

“ Coopenell, ” Gavin murmured. With a click, the hidden drawer of his desk slid open, and Gavin dropped the letter inside the folder that held letters from his informant, witness testimonies, and the grievances of the burglarized. Shutting it, he stood and stretched his legs, assured by the audible slide of the magical lock replacing itself.

Tomorrow, he would resume his investigation anew. That, and ensure the Eye of Behelwer didn’t wreak havoc within his province.