Chapter Twelve #2
Everald knew that wasn’t the truth and couldn’t help what came out of his mouth next.
“Or she must kill your enemy to make your way easier, my lord?” he muttered.
When Cambridge looked at him in surprise, he simply shook his head.
“I have served kings my entire life. They would not kill a prince of the church for fear of provoking the wrath of the church as a whole, so I seriously doubt that Edward wants to kill you or will even make the attempt. If you want him dead for your own reasons, you should simply say so. Even my daughter will know that you do not need her to protect you.”
By that time, Cambridge’s features had hardened. He glared at Everald, who hadn’t the courage to look at him. He kept his head down, knowing what he’d said was the truth that Cambridge was trying to keep from him—or at least hoping he didn’t realize it.
But he did.
That brought Cambridge’s anger.
“Tell her that she has a duty to me,” he finally growled.
“If she does not do as she is told, her father will end up in severe distress. And I will send her to the most despicable brothel in London, where she can service the dregs of society. Or mayhap I will sell her to the pirates that sail the Dover coast. Her fate is in her own hands, Everald. I suggest you tell her that.”
A flash of pale material caught their attention over by the entry and they both turned to see Cleodora entering in a pale blue gown.
The palest blue possible. She dipped into a curtsy as she entered the chamber but as she stood up, she noticed her father sitting at the end of the table with Cambridge.
She smiled politely.
“Papa,” she greeted him. “I did not know you were here. When did you arrive?”
Everald found himself looking over his daughter. She seemed to grow more beautiful every time he saw her. She looked very much like her mother as Everald remembered her.
“Greetings,” he said without emotion. “I have only just arrived.”
“Your father and I were just speaking of you,” Cambridge said, waving her forward.
“I was saying that you have become quite indispensable to me, my dear. Everyone knows the lovely Pearl, but I am the man fortunate enough to have her with me. It was all anyone could speak of last night at the king’s feast.”
Cleodora approached the table, unsure what to make of Cambridge’s flattery, so her smile was timid.
“That is kind, my lord,” she said. “In fact, it is the feast I wish to speak of. The garment I wore last evening, that beautiful dress, has been damaged and I must take it to Adelie’s today to see if she can repair it. ”
“Oh?” Cambridge said, seemingly concerned. “What has happened?”
Cleodora appeared distressed. “That beautiful scene on the skirt, the embroidery, has seen some unraveling and I fear that it must be tended to immediately before it becomes worse. Even more terrible, one of the angel sleeves has a tear in the seam. I do not believe I was careless with it, but the fabric is so fragile that it is starting to tear away. It must be seen to right away or I am afraid the entire sleeve will fall apart.”
Cambridge nodded. “Of course,” he said. “I spent a great deal of money on that dress and we do not want it damaged, so you may go. Sit here and speak with your father for a few moments whilst I find Langford and have a carriage sent around for you. Where is the dress now?”
“Filly is packing it up very carefully, my lord.”
“Good,” he said, standing up and heading for another exit that the servants used. “Sit with your father, my dear. I will return.”
Cleodora did. She sat next to Everald as Cambridge quit the chamber. When the man was gone, and there was no one else about, Everald turned to her.
“Tell me about this knight you met,” he said, his voice low. “The one who guards Edward.”
Cleodora looked at him, surprised by the question. Her father seemed quite serious about it, so she attempted to figure out what he meant. “You mean the one who saved my life from the robbers?” she said. “Did Cambridge tell you about that?”
“What robbers?”
“At Adelie’s,” she said. “The dressmaker. I was there and robbers threatened me. The knight saved my life.”
Everald regarded her as more information became clear. “Cambridge did not tell me that part of it,” he said. “He simply told me that you had made an acquaintance of a bodyguard of the king.”
“He is the bodyguard of Edward.”
“Cambridge also told me what he asked of you.”
Cleodora didn’t realize what he meant for a brief second, but when she did, her composure took a hit. Her expression flickered from a somewhat pleasant one to one of fear. “He told you…” She trailed off, unable to finish. “Did… did he tell you that he wants me to get close to the king?”
Everald sighed sharply. “Aye, he did,” he said, leaning forward and looking his daughter in the eye. “Whatever that man asks of you, you must do it. Do you understand me? If you do not, he will take it out on me.”
She looked at him, terrified. “Papa,” she whispered. “He asked me to kill the king. He wants me to get close enough to… to kill the man!”
“It is not that difficult,” Everald snapped. “You sup with him, seduce him, whatever you have to do to him, and then you slip poison into his wine. He drinks it and he is dead. I will live, you will live, and all will be well in our world.”
Tears welled in Cleodora’s eyes. “Oh, Papa,” she said, struggling not to sob. “You do not understand. I cannot do it. I do not know how!”
Everald grabbed her by the wrist, his fingers biting into her. “It is either Edward’s life or yours,” he spat. “Or mine. If Edward does not die, you and I will. I cannot be much plainer than that.”
“You are hurting me!”
That just made him squeeze harder. “Do not be stupid,” he said. “The only reason you and I have a pleasant life is because of Cambridge. If the man wants the moon, you go and get it. And if he wants you to rid him of an enemy, you do it or he will rid himself of you. Do you understand me?”
There were voices by the hall entry and Cleodora used the distraction to yank her arm away.
Quickly, she stood up, away from her father so he couldn’t grab her again.
Langford appeared in the entry door to inform her that a carriage was being brought around and that was all the encouragement she needed to rush from the chamber.
Everald couldn’t get another word in because she was gone, but he hoped she’d gotten his message.
God help them both, he hoped so.
Their lives depended on it.