The Prince of Lies (Night's Masque, #3)(60)

Prince Robert saluted her and cantered off in pursuit, followed by the rest of his party. All but one. Lord Stafford dismounted and bowed.

“Lady Derby, Lady Catlyn. It appears to me you took an unpleasant fright from that beast. Allow me to escort you both back to the palace.”

He took Lady Derby’s arm and led her back towards the path.

“I should not leave Mistress Elizabeth here alone,” Coby said. “Her mother would never forgive me if anything happened to her.”

“As you wish, Lady Catlyn. Good luck with your own hunt!”

When they were out of earshot, Coby joined Olivia, who had been watching them all with curiosity.

“I suppose I should thank you,” she told the guiser. “I fear that Lady Derby was not sufficiently in command of her wits to control the beast.”

“You think her capable of such magics?”

“Is she not?”

Olivia laughed.

“She is as human as you, my dear Lady Catlyn. So, you owe me your life after all.”

She turned and walked away, leaving Coby alone in the clearing, a triumphant smile spreading across her face. So, Lady Derby was not a guiser. That only left Rutland and Percy in the immediate running. She would have to find Mal straight away.



The path was broad and straight, but Mal could see no sign of the lovers, nor hear their voices. They must have turned aside into the thick brush for greater privacy. Quite what he was going to do when he eventually caught up with them, he had no idea. Challenge Rutland to a duel? If the earl really was Jathekkil’s amayi, killing him would solve Mal’s immediate problem, but at the price of arrest and possible execution. Nor could Mal attempt to use magic on a waking man; he would have to get too close, and in any case if he were right, Rutland would know himself betrayed.

Mal halted, alert for any sound that might give the lovers away. Nothing but the usual noises of the forest, and in the distance the winding of a hunting horn, receding rather than getting nearer. No help from that quarter then. He was about to move on when a man’s voice, raised in anger, broke the stillness. Mal headed towards it, heedless of the twigs snapping under his boots.

A few moments later he emerged in a clearing. The girl was sitting on a tree stump, head in her hands. Alone. Mal halted a few yards away and sheathed his half-drawn rapier. Elizabeth started at the sound and looked up. Naught but a child, with her face as white as the mist and her eyes and nose red from weeping. Mal fought off the urge to chase after Rutland and give him the beating he deserved, but he could not leave the girl alone in the forest like this. He bowed but did not make any other move towards her, less she flee like a deer.

“Come, let me take you back to my wife,” he said, gesturing towards the path.

Elizabeth hesitated, then got to her feet shakily. Mal held out his hand and she came to him, let him take her arm and guide her through the forest.

“Are you hurt?” he said after a while.

Elizabeth shook her head.

“It was all m-m-my fault,” she said, so quietly Mal had to lean down to hear. “My lord Rutland was showing me a deer path, and we stopped to… to kiss and I–”

She broke off with a sob. Mal fished around in his pocket for a handkerchief, trying to remember the last time he had seen Coby weep, but memory failed him. Perhaps growing up pretending to be a boy had hardened her spirits. Unlike these delicate ladies of the court. Sooth, he wished she were here now dealing with this poor child instead of him.

After a while Elizabeth stopped crying.

“He’ll n-n-never marry me now,” she whispered.

“But you are betrothed to him, are you not? It will cause him a great deal of trouble to get out of the contract, even if you’re not a virgin anymore.”

Elizabeth wiped her nose and looked up at him. “Can you lose your virginity by kissing? Mamma told me the man had to lie on top of the woman and… well, you know.” She blushed scarlet.

“Well, yes… So, he just kissed you?”

“Yes. And then… And then I puked all over his doublet.” Elizabeth burst into tears again.

Mal stifled a laugh. Poor vain Rutland, doing his best to seduce a girl and eliciting only nausea.

“Well perhaps you’ll be more careful in future, and not drink on an empty stomach.”

Elizabeth nodded miserably.

Mal found Hector and the two other horses waiting patiently where he had left them. He helped Elizabeth into the saddle of her roan mare then took the reins of both geldings and led them back towards the palace.

So much for his plans. He might have rescued the girl, but he was no closer to determining whether Rutland was an enemy or merely an irritation. Perhaps he would have better luck back in London, where at least he would be on familiar territory.





CHAPTER XVI



Mal knocked on the door of his brother’s bedchamber. They had come back to the capital with Robert and his retinue at the beginning of October, but instead of returning to his lodgings at Whitehall Palace, Mal had moved back into the house behind the Sign of the Parley. He needed quiet and sobriety to plan his next move, and finally the stratagem had paid off.

“Sandy! Are you awake?”

A faint groan was the only reply. Fearing some new trouble Mal threw open the door. To his relief naught appeared to be amiss, though the fug of qoheetsakhan smoke was thicker than usual. Sandy was sitting up in bed, calm if bleary-eyed, his hair curling in damp elf-locks around his pale brow.