Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
I force myself to wait before taking action. Eryx is clearly on high alert after my display with the paperweight. He may have no idea what I’m capable of, but that doesn’t mean he won’t keep a close eye on me, expecting retaliation for the stunt he pulled with the servants. Fortunately, the members of my book club remain on the estate, as well as Kyros. Most of Cook’s staff are gone, and half the stable hands and groundskeepers have been forced to leave. I’ve done what I can to find them all positions elsewhere and offer letters of recommendation, but there’s no denying their lives are forever changed because of the impostor.
Eryx Demos will get his, of that I’m certain. I just have to choose my moments carefully.
Patience and I are old friends. We sat hand in hand as we played Father like a fiddle for years and years, subtly pointing his head where we wanted it, letting him think my ideas were his. I would have been married long before nineteen if he’d been in control. He had no idea that I was reading his correspondences before he ever received or sent them. Never once suspected that letters went missing. Or that he was reading forgeries at times.
I became quite the practiced hand at imitating handwriting and opening sealed letters without leaving a trace of evidence.
I had to bide my time until I found the perfect match: an old, dying man with no heirs.
I hadn’t taken into account the possibility of someone else playing my game, trying to take what was mine by the same means.
Physically, I don’t think I’m in danger. If the pretend duke intended to murder me, he would have done so by now. Unless he, too, is biding his time so my death looks like an accident.
I suppose it will come down to who can play the game best.
While I wait to strike, I learn many useless things about the duke.
For instance, he made a face at dinner when the kitchen staff brought out roasted duck. He ate his meal quietly, though I noticed he didn’t eat as much as he normally does. When we had strawberry shortcake for dessert, he asked Cook for a second helping.
When I stroll through the library during the day, I’ll find some tomes missing and then returned later in incorrect locations. I know exactly what he’s reading, and it irritates me that we have the same taste in books. Or that we both read so voraciously.
The strangest thing is when Eryx disappears from the manor for hours at a time, requesting no carriage or horse. He traipses off into the wild greenery at the edges of the estate, and I get the sense that he’s not just off catching some air. No, he’s up to something, but when I ask the remaining outdoor staff if they see anything, they have nothing to report. Some even offer to tail him, but they inform me that the duke just disappears without a trace.
“He’s impossible to follow,” a groundskeeper says. “It’s like tailing a ghost.”
Perhaps Eryx was telling the truth when he mentioned serving in the army. That would explain those skills.
It doesn’t, however, explain what he’s up to.
The man is as much of a hermit as I am. He doesn’t attend social functions. He doesn’t update his wardrobe.
He also doesn’t spook any less easily. If he’s alone in a room, and I happen to accidentally sneak up on him, he rounds on me with his revolver and knife extended.
“Honestly, you need to calm yourself!” I snap at him after the third time it happens. “One of these days you’re going to shoot me!”
“If I shoot you, Duchess, it will not be an accident.”
Chilling words, but I don’t drop my irritation. “Put those away at once! Must you carry them through the hallways? Are we expecting an invasion any time soon?”
“Instincts acquired in the army are hard to drop.”
Yet, I still don’t believe him entirely. For his “valets” trail along after him most of the time, long after the duties of valet should be required for the day.
Is the duke in danger? Does he suspect someone is after him? Need I be concerned? (Not for him, of course, but for me, since we live in the same household.)
I pose these questions to Eryx once, but he merely says, “Don’t be absurd,” in the most condescending tone fathomable.
Karla and Tekla approach me one afternoon, dusters in hand.
“Your Grace,” Karla says. “You asked us to keep you apprised of anything interesting popping up in the papers.”
I had. After that day when Lady Petrakis divulged everything that my sister had been up to with her new edicts, I realized I needed a way to stay better informed. My maids/book club friends love reading the gossip columns and other things involving the nobility. I knew I could count on them to keep me apprised of anything important.
“Is it my sister?” I ask warily.
“No,” Tekla says. “I’m afraid it’s nothing terribly exciting. Just rather strange. A nobleman has gone missing.”
“Who?”
“Lord Andris.”
That is strange. Usually noblemen go missing when they accrue gambling debts or frequent unsavory parts of town. As far as I know, he’s not involved in anything shady that I’ve overheard. In fact, the only thing I do know about the viscount is that he served in the army for a handful of years. He regularly bragged about some award he received.
Hmm, Eryx claimed to have served in the army.
Eryx, who walks around with bodyguards trailing him and weapons on hand.
“How long has he been missing?” I ask.
“Two weeks.”
Which is also, coincidentally, how long Eryx has been in town…
The connection is too flimsy for me to really make guesses, but it is odd.
“Thank you,” I say. “Do keep me posted on anything else of note that happens, especially any more disappearances.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” Tekla says.
“Once I have money again, I promise to tip you both.”
“Oh, nonsense,” Karla says. “A chat between friends doesn’t warrant an exchange of money.”
She’s too kind, but I will be paying them for their service once I have the means to do so.
Which requires more spying.
I try to get a sense of Eryx’s schedule in the following weeks, but he never sticks to one. He never goes for walks at the same time nor reads at the same time nor goes over the accounts at the same time. It’s as if he’s trying to make it difficult for someone like me who wishes to snoop through his things.
But my chance finally comes one day when Vander visits the estate. He, the duke, and the two valets, Argus and Dyson, enter the study, Vander shooting me hateful looks all the while. I pretend not to notice.
“Is my presence needed?” I ask before Eryx shuts the door.
“Definitely not.”
“Shall I send for tea?”
“Go away, Duchess.” He slams the door, and I hear him grumble, “Damnable woman,” on the other side.
I walk away purposefully, then slip off my shoes and tread back toward the door. I even try holding my breath, since Eryx somehow managed to hear it last time. To be fair, I was incensed and breathing heavily then, so perhaps I’m being overcautious.
“I’m all but ruined!” Vander shrieks. “That girl wrote to her father about us. Lord Masis has been visiting my offices constantly. He’s even convinced all his associates not to use me since I now neglect to time-stamp my documents and send assistants to do jobs better carried out by myself.”
“Quiet down, Vander,” Eryx says. “It will be all right.”
“I have no clients left. They’ve all run to my competitors to do their business!”
“I will take care of it,” Eryx assures him.
I can’t hold my breath any longer, so I tiptoe back toward where I left my shoes and slip them on as I breathe once more.
With a grin, I glide toward the master suite, prepared for some snooping.
Whether or not the servants are on my side, I decide it’s best not to be seen entering the duke’s rooms. I’d hate to imagine the conclusions drawn before I could refute them. The thought makes me want to gag. Instead, I enter the duchess suite before approaching the door joining our rooms together. Naturally it’s locked, but I have a skeleton key that works on every door in the house. It was, after all, mine until Eryx cast his toxic shadow over the place.
The room is… wholly unchanged. Just as beautiful and perfect as I left it, save my bed, vanity, and other furniture, which are now in my current room instead of this one. The more masculine furniture that used to be in the duchess suite has taken its place.
And yet, the place looks lifeless, for Eryx has made no personal touches. On the one hand, I’m relieved to have the room unmolested, but on the other, it’s really quite sad. Two pairs of trousers. Most gentlemen would faint at the thought.
I go to the cedar chest I missed the last time I perused the room. It bears no lock, and when I peer inside, I find a beat-up canteen, a torn red scarf, a well-worn book titled The Adventures of Voleta Mavros , and a handful of medals bearing Eryx’s name.
Well, it appears he was at least telling the truth about being in the army. I read the inscriptions on the round brass pendants. For Fervor. For Bravery. For Cunning.
I know next to nothing about the army and the different honors awarded to the fighting men and women, but these would seem impressive—
If Eryx hadn’t been awarded them. I wonder if they’re like children’s tokens given out at parties. Everyone receives one.
As I stand, I realize there were no clothes in the chest. Only personal items. I try the wardrobe, but it hasn’t been filled since I last checked. The washroom is completely empty. No soaps or hairbrush or shaving cream, though Eryx is always well-shaved. Or perhaps he cannot grow hair on his chin? Oh, I shall have to prod at him about that one.
I examine the comforter on the bed. It still smells of laundry soap. Not a hint of male on it. I can only come to one conclusion.
The duke is not staying here. He made such a fuss over having the master suite, and yet, he does not sleep here. He doesn’t even keep his things here, except for one chest.
Well, that poses two new questions.
Why isn’t he sleeping here? And where is he sleeping instead?
Since I never see horses coming or going, I doubt he has a lover somewhere he meets up with. Besides, no one in their right mind would agree to be in close quarters with that abhorrent man.
And then a strange thought occurs to me.
Is it me?
Does he not wish to be anywhere near me? As if I were so distasteful that he cannot bear to sleep one door away from me? Surely that cannot be it.
But why else would he shy away from the most comfortable room in the house? If it’s truly all the pink giving him headaches, then why not redecorate? No builders or architects have been by. It’s not as though he has anything in the works.
Something is very, very strange indeed.
W HEN THE SOLICITOR LEAVES , I pounce upon Eryx.
“Did you have a nice chat?”
He rubs his thumb and forefinger against his brow. “Not exactly.”
“Excellent. What did Vander want?”
“I called for him.”
“Well, what did you want?”
“That is none of your concern.” I’m sure his deep tone, harsh-set face, and imposing height would silence anyone else—but everything he says feels like a challenge I have to accept.
“If you’re having trouble with the accounts, I can offer my services. I am, after all, older and wiser than you.” Also, I need to get into that room for more information about Eryx. And if he is bungling up the accounts, I cannot let that stand! That’s my money.
“I am more than capable of handling all the accounts, despite the ridiculous charges you made before my arrival.”
“The only ridiculous thing is your arrival.”
He growls. “Do you need something? Or is there a reason you’re still buzzing in my ear?”
My jesting tone turns serious. “This is my home, too. I wish to be notified of any changes.”
“For gods’ sake, the man was here to discuss you , not the house or the accounts!”
“Me?”
“Yes, thanks to our soon-to-be Shadow Queen, dowries, instead of brideprices, are exchanged upon marriage agreements. I needed Vander’s advice on a sum appropriate for you.”
I blink several times before I can find my words. “I beg your pardon?”
Eryx looks right at me. “You are a nuisance. Everywhere I turn, there you are. At my dining table. In my library. Walking the grounds. Sitting in the gardens. You have an uncanny talent for being precisely where I wish to be.”
Do I? The man must be quiet as a mouse, for I have never noticed him stumbling upon me. Only the other way around. And I don’t divert my plans just because he’s already occupying a room in the house.
“The rooms in the manor are quite spacious,” I say. “There’s plenty of room for the two of us.” Not that I like sharing with him, either.
“I disagree, and I want you gone from my house.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “It is a manor, not a house, and it’s not yours but ours .”
“Only until you are married. A matter that I intend to hurry along.”
I scoff. “You cannot marry me off against my will. You don’t have that authority. I am a dowager. My life is my own.”
“Yes, I wasn’t speaking of forcing anything. Merely providing an incentive.”
“Incentive,” I repeat stupidly.
“Yes, you seem quite fond of spending money. So Vander and I had a talk. Upon your engagement to the man of your choosing, I will grant you a dowry of ten thousand necos. Per the Shadow Queen’s edict, this money is for your personal use, and your future husband will have no right to it. In addition, you will receive your monthly stipend as stipulated in my grandfather’s will. And if you marry well, I’m sure you can negotiate an additional stipend from your new husband. You will be wed and rich. I will be alone and happy. We both win.”
Ten thousand necos. I’ve never heard of such a large sum being exchanged in a marriage agreement. In fact, I thought the seven- thousand-necos brideprice my father received was exorbitant.
I’m stunned. I’m greedy for it. And yet—
“Why the hell do you want me gone so badly?” I say, personally affronted.
“Because you’re awful,” he says, as though it were obvious.
“Oh, I’m awful. What about you? Moody and broody. Arrogant and stupid. Poorly dressed and ill-mannered. Waving guns around and making enemies of all the staff. No one wants you here, and since there’s legitimate concerns over your real identity, you’d think you’d tread a lot more lightly.”
He steps forward, invading my personal space. “If you’re so concerned that I’m not who I say I am, then why don’t you take the matter to the constabulary? Or the king? Do something about it if you’re so sure you’ve got everything figured out.”
He’s got me there. I can’t go to the king, because my sister has his ear. I can’t go to the constabulary, because they’re not going to risk angering a man in such a position of power. They will always believe a duke over a duchess; that’s why I have to hire a private investigator. But this feral man has all my money!
I have no retort, for I’m fuming over the reminder of my cutoff stipend.
“Listen,” Eryx says, his voice taking on an uncharacteristically gen tle tone. “I am not required to provide a dowry for you, because I’m not your father. I’m doing this as a kindness.”
I snort. “After you just said I’m awful and you want me gone? You’re doing this for yourself.”
“Fine.” His voice returns to normal. “I’m doing this for myself, but you can’t deny how it helps you as well. Look at it as me taking care of both our interests.”
“I have no interest in being married again.”
“Don’t judge marriage so quickly. You didn’t exactly get the cream of the crop last time, did you? This time, you’ll get to pick your partner. You can probably have whomever you want. I’ve seen the number of correspondences that come for you. I know you have options.”
“And those options will be taken away the second I marry. I will be beholden to my husband.”
“But you’ll be wealthy.”
“Is that what you’d choose? Bondage over freedom for the right price?”
He flicks his long hair out of his eyes. “ Bondage is hardly the right word.”
“How about prostitution, then?”
“Excuse me?”
“That’s what I’d be trading. Sex for money.”
“That’s not—”
“Isn’t it?” I ask, cutting him off. “Men need heirs to pass on their titles. That’s why they take wives. Else they’d be content with mistresses forever. A wife is but an object, a vessel for his progeny.”
Eryx quiets for a moment. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
I’m absolutely shocked that he took a moment to even consider my words.
But then he says, “So find a man you desire. Flip the tables. Fall in love. Change the game.”
“Oh, just find a sexy man, is that it? What happens when he opens his mouth? Seriously, it’s like you haven’t met a man.”
“Need I remind you that you were paying for the company of a man? If you found one tolerable man, then surely you can do so again, this time with a nobleman who doesn’t need anything from you.”
I clench my teeth in frustration. “I paid for the company of several men, and the only reason they were tolerable is because they were being paid to be so!”
Eryx closes his eyes for a solid thirty seconds, as though he wishes to pretend I’m no longer here. When he opens them again, he appears calmer. He looks over my head as he says, “You will be happy again. This time will be different. You have full control over your courtship now. You can refuse anyone.”
“I thought I already did, for I’m refusing your offer. I don’t need your dowry. I don’t want it.”
His hands clench into fists as his eyes jump to mine.
I take a step back.
Because not only does he look ready to hit something, but also his eyes have changed color. They’re a bright amber instead of brown.
And they’re glowing.
“Fifteen thousand,” he says.
“What?”
“I’ll up it to fifteen thousand necos. Your dowry.”
I finally process the words, looking away from those eyes. “No!”
“Twenty. That’s my final offer.”
Twenty thous— That’s unheard of. It’s beyond exorbitant.
I’m insulted.
“Why do you hate me so much?” I demand.
“I do not hate you.”
“Lies! You barge into my home. Steal my room, despite not sleeping in it. Steal my money, despite not needing it. You’ve fired half my friends, left the place in a complete state of disarray. Now you wish to pawn me off on someone else, just so you can have this enormous manor to yourself. Did I wrong you in some egregious manner that I’m unaware of?”
“It’s not you.”
“Is it because I suspect the truth? That you are not who you say you are. Is it because I can bring your dark secrets to light?”
Eryx looks away from me, his body tensing like a bowstring. I hold my breath for a few beats, waiting to see what he will do.
When he turns to face me, his eyes are back to normal.
“It is because I wish to be alone.”