Chapter 17
In which shots are fired
As I’m sure you know by now, Bemusement offers its own peril.
— from Lady Avely’s Guide to Guile and Peril
She refused the cup of tea at Custodian House. She was starting to feel excessively Bemused from exerting her Gift so constantly, and her head was slightly dizzy. And she didn’t trust tea from the captain.
“I must hurry back to the castle,” she said, as forcefully as she could manage. “And I will not go by carriage. I insist that you transport me back immediately.”
Drumpellier acquiesced, perhaps because he needed to fetch Ltn Greene.
Awkwardly, they embraced, Judith fuming that she must compromise her dignity thus, to clasp such a villain in her arms. Yet she was relieved to arrive back in the Blue Drawing Room, where its cool elegance felt almost like a return home.
Trebellow stood by the open door, eyes wide.
Judith hastily disengaged from the captain. “What is it, Trebellow? Why are you lurking around?”
“Apologies, ma’am. Baron Quarles has arrived.” Nervously, Trebellow extended a meaty hand, in the manner of one presenting a witness in the box.
In consternation, Judith turned to see a tall, thin man. He was sitting in one of the wooden chairs, gingerly holding a cup of tea. He had narrow, aristocratic features under a receding hairline, an expensively tailored coat, threadbare upon his shoulders, and a bewildered smile upon his face.
The baron put down his cup and manoeuvred his long limbs out of the chair, standing with a bow. “Lady Avely. I proffer my deepest gratitude for your hospitality.”
Damnation. Judith dropped a perfunctory curtsy.
“Any friend of the king is welcome here,” she muttered, and gestured.
“This is Captain Drumpellier, of the -nth Regiment at Fort Pendennis.” Belatedly, she recalled that she wanted to ask the baron some pointed questions.
He had been around when Sgt Finlay had died, and he had been seen lurking around the castle in odd corners.
Baron Quarles bowed again. “We are well acquainted. Greetings, Captain.”
Drumpellier canted his head slightly and straightened his coat. “Baron. What brings you to Castle Lanyon again?”
“The stars, of course!” Baron Quarles’s tone was light. “The view is brilliant from the ramparts. I have great hopes of seeing Venus tonight.”
Judith, however, heard the hollow clunk of a lie through her gathering Bemusement. “Just the stars, Baron?” she enquired.
The baron smiled. “Indeed, what more could there be?”
He smiled at her kindly, but again the lie echoed. Her head ached, and she glared, wondering if she could just throw him out of the house forthwith. She had enough on her plate without a devious baron thrown into the mix.
Drumpellier cast a glance at her, perhaps sensing the reason for her doubt. He raised a brow at the baron. “Surely the moon is still too full for stargazing tonight, my lord?”
“Ah, but the moon is a transient creature,” Baron Quarles said genially. “I can outwit her, for the sake of my beauties.”
“I wish you joy of it,” snapped Judith crossly. “I may not see you at dinner, however.”
“Please, do not let me inconvenience you.” Baron Quarles tipped his head, considering. “I swear, I did not hear you come in through the door—it quite seemed as if you appeared out of nowhere.”
Judith stared at him. His tone rang false.
He must have seen them Travel in. Was his comment simply meant to be teasing?
Or was it an oblique warning for them to abide by the Edicts?
For the baron was a close friend of the king, who had instigated the Edicts.
Perhaps he did not know how His Majesty had recently granted an exemption for Castle Lanyon.
But before she could parry the question, footsteps came pounding outside the corridor.
They all turned. Ltn Greene burst through it, his face flushed, his breathing ragged, his red uniform disordered.
“Someone shot at me!” he cried. “From the castle walls!”
Judith started and turned to the lieutenant.
Ltn Greene looked around wildly. Then his gaze landed on Baron Quarles. “You! Who are you? Where were you a quarter hour ago?”
The baron drew up his thin form in hauteur. “I am Baron Quarles, and I was sitting in this Drawing Room, as the butler can attest.”
Trebellow began to nod, then cleared his throat instead. “I left you here, it is true, my lord.”
“While you fetched the tea,” stated Baron Quarles haughtily. “What is it that you imagine I did in your absence? Leap out with a gun?” He turned in irritation to Ltn Greene. “Explain yourself, young man.”
“Yes, Lieutenant,” said Drumpellier grimly. “What happened?”
Ltn Greene took a deep breath and pulled his lapels straight.
“I was exiting the castle, sir, as you instructed, on my way to inspect the platoon,” he said in a calmer manner.
“When I came out near the rampart terrace, I heard the crack of a pistol shot, and a bullet whistled past my ear. I spun around, and another shot came soon after. It came—I think—from the direction of the broken tower. I ducked down and crawled my way back inside. Since then, I have been searching for the culprit, pelting through the corridors.”
Judith, listening, heard that the lieutenant only spoke the truth. She sat down on a settee, rubbing her forehead. What new villainy was this? It must be connected with Sgt Finlay’s death: another attempt on a British soldier. But why? And why must her wits abandon her now?
Drumpellier frowned. “And did you find anyone skulking around with a pistol?”
“No, but it is easily hid,” replied Ltn Greene. He glared at the baron. “I suggest that we search this room.”
Baron Quarles sniffed dismissively. “Be my guest.” Then he glanced apologetically at Judith. “If Lady Avely will permit it.”
Judith tried to gather her thoughts. After a moment, she said, “Unless he is very stupid, the baron would be unlikely to hide the weapon in this room.” She was quite pleased at this logic.
“Why, thank you,” bowed the baron, with some irony.
“However,” she continued, “the baron might well be very stupid, and we should look.”
Baron Quarles raised his brows.
Drumpellier coughed. “Are you feeling quite all right, Lady Avely?”
“Perfectly fine,” she lied. Everyone else lied, so why not she? She waved a hand airily. “Go on—search the drawing room, and the whole castle if you must.”
Ltn Greene needed no further encouragement. He leapt into action, looking under and behind the settees, sweeping the curtains up, and even poking in the fireplace.
But no gun was to be found.
He turned grimly to his captain, his nose now smudged with coal. “May I have your permission to continue the search elsewhere, sir?”
Drumpellier pursed his lips, suddenly seeming reluctant. “Even if we should find the weapon, it will not tell us who fired it.” He looked at Judith. “Do you have any idea who it may be, Lady Avely? You have been questioning the occupants of the castle, have you not?”
Baron Quarles’s eyes widened with curiosity.
Judith examined her new guest through the haze of her Bemusement.
Just minutes ago, the baron had lied to her about his stargazing being the sole reason for his visit.
Perhaps he had tried to shoot the lieutenant.
In her befuddled state she couldn’t quite garner the reason.
“Baron, did you shoot at the lieutenant?”
The baron drew himself up again. “How dare you suggest such a thing!”
“Answer the question!” she snapped. Drumpellier’s eyes narrowed, and he turned to stare at the baron.
“I most certainly did not.” The baron’s thin cheeks now had two spots of angry colour.
Judith’s shoulders sagged in disappointment, for he was telling the truth. Curse it. The baron would have made a nice villain. He had even been around to bump Sgt Finlay on the head…
The baron, oblivious to his lost leading role, continued to bluster. “What is going on? Is it not safe to stargaze anymore? Is the castle under siege?”
“You recall that one of my soldiers drowned last week,” said Drumpellier shortly. “This latest violence might have something to do with that misadventure.”
Judith tried to think. She turned to Ltn Greene, where he stood at attention by the fireplace. “Lieutenant, do you know something about Sgt Finlay, or the night he was killed?”
Ltn Greene’s expression became alarmed. “I swear I did not kill him, ma’am!”
It was the truth. “Yes, but do you know something about that night, some clue which might point to the killer, and explain why a gun has now been turned upon you?”
A frown settled on the lieutenant’s brow. His gaze lowered, to stare unseeingly at the carpet. There was a long pause.
“Well, Lieutenant?” pressed Drumpellier.
Ltn Greene spoke slowly, “I couldn’t say, sir.”
“Your life might be in danger,” said Drumpellier sharply. “If you know something, you must tell us.”
Ltn Greene remained silent. Judith sighed. She really desired a cup of chocolate right now. Or a nap. Or both. Perhaps then she would see and hear more clearly. For it seemed to her that Ltn Greene did know something, which he was reluctant to speak aloud.
Drumpellier cast a glance at her and appeared to guess that she had reached the end of her resources. “Well, Lieutenant, let us depart now, and whisk you to safety. You can think about it back in the shelter of the Pendennis barracks and let me know if you have any sudden insights.”
“Yes, sir,” said Ltn Greene woodenly.
“Lady Avely,” continued Drumpellier, his tone sharpening.
“You had better find out what is going on here, or you will lose any right to intervene in any other matters. This is the second soldier of mine to come under threat, and the issue must be resolved speedily. I trust you will expend all your effort.”
Judith said nothing. She was too busy imagining a molinet of chocolate in the Tea Tower Room, and whether Ghastagon might like a pat.
“But first,” said Drumpellier, “I must speak to Miss Onslow. May I see her in the Blue Drawing Room now?”
Judith blinked. Was the man actually commandeering her drawing room? She was aware of a distant sense of outrage but then gave an unladylike shrug. “You may. Trebellow, please fetch Miss Onslow.”
Trebellow bowed and left. Baron Quarles coughed and excused himself, following close after the butler.
There was a silence. Drumpellier cleared his throat. “Perhaps you wish to retire as well, Lady Avely, so that I may speak with Miss Onslow in private. Ltn Greene will stand watch at the door.”
Judith gave him an icy glare. “You go too far, Captain. This is my castle, and I will continue to host in the drawing room.”
“As you very well know, I have secret matters of the Crown and Custos to discuss with Miss Onslow. Your presence cannot be permitted.”
Judith sniffed and stood. She was uneasily aware that she could not throw a spoke in the wheel of English intelligence. “Very well,” she uttered, “I shall cede the ground to you this time, Drumpellier, but only because I want a nap.”
His lips quirked, and he bowed. “Thank you, Lady Avely.”
She swept from the room.
Halfway down one of the corridors, she saw Miss Onslow.
Her face was pale as she hurriedly reported for duty.
Judith gave her a reassuring smile, but for some reason the girl looked even more worried.
Shrugging it off, Judith made her way up to her room, only becoming a little bit lost in the process.
When she finally collapsed on her bed, she fell straight into sleep.