Chapter 25 #2
Perry eyed her, wiping juice from his chin. “Why?”
“Just in case.”
“In case you wish to Travel inside the fort?” he said with deplorable acuteness. “I thought you acknowledged that this Captain Drumpellier has won the match.”
Robert’s brow creased at this insensitive summation. “It galls me too, Judith,” he said abruptly. “How can we be sure the duke is in his right mind? Or that he truly knows what Drumpellier intends? Maybe we should satisfy ourselves on that point.”
“Yes!” said Judith, grateful for this unlooked-for support.
“Exactly! All we have is a letter, and that could have been written at gunpoint, for all we know.” Though she doubted it, given its intimate tone.
“Perry, you simply must return this evening, as soon as you can. Otherwise, I might Travel back with the ring, without you. Return it to me now, please.”
Perry handed the ring over with a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. I’ll come back. But only if you let me take some of these peaches with me.” He gathered up an armful and winked at them. “Bye, Mother. See you soon, cousin.” Then he vanished.
Judith glanced over to Robert. He was staring at the empty table—and pile of peach stones—with a Bemused expression, as if he had been casting a particularly complex Illusion.
“Well,” she said, “that is your half-brother. Did you dislike him, after all?”
Robert looked over and did not answer the question. “He looks like me.”
“He does,” she agreed.
“With an added easy confidence.”
“I suppose so.” Born of Perry’s position as a gentleman was the unspoken rejoinder. Judith knew, acutely, that Robert was thinking how different his life might have been had their places been exchanged. “Born of foolishness, you might say.”
“He has a reckless bravado.” As if to contrast between them, Robert pushed his chair back and mechanically set about tidying the kitchen table, like a footman.
Judith helped, and tactfully changed the subject by telling him about Kadee’s revelation.
Robert was intrigued, but then as they walked up to their rooms, Judith decided to tell him of Mrs Ulrich’s other discovery.
“I saw Miss Onslow below the ramparts this evening,” she said quietly. “I watched as she hid something in the terrace gardens.”
Robert’s head twisted towards her as he walked, his hands thrust into his pockets. “Oh?”
“I sent Mrs Ulrich to see what it was.” She hesitated. “It turns out that Miss Onslow was hiding a pistol.”
Robert came to a startled halt. “The pistol?”
“We must assume so.” She put her hand on his arm, adding hastily, “I do not assume, however, that she is the one who shot it. I find it hard to believe when she has proven herself to be our ally. She might have been hiding it for someone else, either the baron or Miss Isla. I am going to ask her first thing tomorrow. But I thought you should know.”
Robert did not look reassured. If anything, his face became more grim. “Why would she protect the baron? He must have a hold over her. All his nonsense about stars must be hiding something else.”
Judith set off again, dragging him along with her. “We will find out soon enough. For now, I will allow her to sleep, for she fed Wooten tonight. And she was the one who warned me about Dacian’s fate; I am indebted to her, after all. I just hope that she can explain herself to us in the morning.”
Despite everything, and despite the knowledge that Dacian had turned away from her to his fate, Judith slept late the next morning after her storm of tears.
It was almost midday when she awoke, a bright bar of sunlight lying across her bed from the gap in the curtains.
The wardrobe was shut, she saw sleepily, though she had left it ajar last night.
Marigold must be safely tucked inside. Judith rolled over, then lurched upwards, as the events of the previous evening crashed back into her consciousness.
Dacian. Dacian was choosing to go to Austria in two days’ time, as part of Drumpellier’s insane scheme.
Judith must see him once more before he left.
And in the meanwhile, Miss Onslow had hidden a gun on the terrace, which was still incomprehensible.
Who was she protecting? Well, her odd behaviour could occupy Judith until nightfall, when she could visit Dacian one last time with Perry’s help.
She dressed, and rather than ring the bell for a tray, she made her way to the breakfast room, feeling pleased that she only got lost once on the way. But when she reached the door, she found Mrs Ulrich guarding it, in the manner of a Valkyrie presiding over a coffin.
“Ma’am.” The housekeeper’s tones were heavy with portent. “I am glad you have risen. I have locked Miss Onslow up.”
“Oh?” Judith blinked. “Was that really necessary, Mrs Ulrich?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She gave a pregnant pause. “I followed her to the cellars in the early hours of this morning.”
“To the cellars?” Judith’s heart sank.
“Yes, and,” —her tone lowered— “I heard her speaking French.”
“French?”
Mrs Ulrich gave her a pitying look. “I did not see her interlocutor, as they were hidden from me. However, a man replied, also in French.”
Judith gaped. “Miss Onslow is meeting with the enemy?”
“It appears so.”
There was a long silence as Judith grappled with this new information on an empty stomach.
“Good God,” she said weakly. “She’s a double agent.”