The Queen's Assassin (The Queen's Secret #1)(58)
“No, not at all,” says Shadow, glancing at Cal.
He can’t help but notice how a sigh—almost of relief—escapes Shadow’s lips. Perhaps she’s jealous, Cal realizes, and the thought consumes him. The idea sparks something in him, but he can’t risk the distraction and pushes it aside.
* * *
FROM THE FIRST GLANCE Cal can already tell the Duke of Girt is nothing like his wife. He is a good deal older, with a quiet manner, withdrawn where the duchess is outgoing and loud, and clad in much simpler clothes than the other Montrician nobles Cal has met so far. He is vaguely familiar, and Cal wonders whether he has met the duke before, but cannot place him. The duke keeps his dark hair—no wig—held back in a low ponytail. His suit, also black, is finely tailored but simple and unadorned except for a fine platinum pocket watch and a simple ring with a black stone on his fourth finger. Like all aristocrats, he is heavily perfumed—perhaps even more than most. Cal has a desire to hold his nose. Still, despite the unassuming demeanor, the duke isn’t particularly friendly or welcoming.
When he sees two strangers enter the library behind his wife, he doesn’t hide his irritation. Without acknowledging them, he looks at her and says, “You are aware we have an entire hunting party invited to the estate this weekend?”
She doesn’t address what he said directly, and nuzzles the dogs in her arms. “Darling, this is Lord and Lady Holton of Bruckley Villa. They were guests of the vizier. They’re only here for a short time, and Lady Lila has misplaced all her luggage and she can’t be brought in front of the king in . . . in that.” She sweeps her arms out toward Shadow. “I offered to fix her dilemma and outfit her . . .”
The duke begins shaking his head and throws his hands in the air to quiet her. “Yes, yes, yes, fine. Whatever you need to do. Just don’t tell me any more about it.” He focuses his attentions back on the papers spread across his desk, grumbling under his breath.
She smiles, satisfied. “We’ll leave you to your work, then.” The duchess hands Cal a puppy. He accepts it with some reluctance. “Let’s see to your rooms,” she chirps. The puppy in her arms cocks its head and considers Cal. Or maybe it feels sorry for him.
“Lord Holton can borrow a bow from the armory, I suppose,” the duke adds.
“For the hunt? Of course,” the duchess says. “Are you familiar with a bow, Lord Holton?”
“Of course,” says Cal, still holding one of the dogs.
The duchess leads them to a grand split staircase, freshly waxed mahogany lined with a handwoven wool runner. She stops at the first door in the hallway to the right, closest to the stairs. “This one’s for you, Lady Lila,” Duchess Girt says.
“Your Grace is too kind,” says Shadow, entering the room.
“Do you have everything you need, sister?” Cal asks her, not quite ready to be alone with Duchess Girt.
“Absolutely,” Shadow says from behind a tiny crack in the door. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite!” She slams the door closed in finality.
The duchess walks ahead of him, carrying a lantern. The wall sconces are not lit. There are no sounds aside from his boots on the tile and the swoosh of the duchess’s skirts. His room is on the other end of the long hallway, at least ten doors from Shadow’s. They stop in front of a doorway.
“The other guests are all in the opposite wing,” the duchess says with a sly look on her face. “I thought you’d prefer being away from the commotion. So many people wandering about. Poking their noses into everything. Watching. Isn’t it so much better to be alone?”
“Yes, that’s true, I prefer being alone,” he says. “In fact . . .” He yawns dramatically and places the puppy down on the floor between them, hoping she takes the hint. While her attraction to him might be useful, it is clearly upsetting Shadow for some reason, and there are always other ways to infiltrate the court.
The duchess fumbles for the key, the other puppy perched precariously in the crook of her arm. “Here it is!” she exclaims. She unlocks the door and pushes it open. For a moment he’s uncertain if she’s going to walk in front of him or not—she moves as if she’s about to, but then steps back.
He grabs the opportunity and steps inside the room, immediately beginning to shut the door behind him. “You are too kind, Your Grace,” he says. “The evening has quite tired me out. I bid you good night.”
The door clicks shut as her mouth opens to say something. He hears her on the other side of the door: “Good night!”
Then the sound of another door opening and Shadow’s voice calling from down the hallway: “Duchess! Oh, I’m so glad to have caught you before you go downstairs. If I may, do you have a candle? I can’t seem to find one in here. Oh, and if it isn’t too much bother, would you send up a lady’s maid to help unbutton my dress?”
No doubt, if they were still sharing a room at the inn, it would fall upon him to do the honors. He is a stupid, stupid man.
The dogs both start barking, their yaps traveling down toward Shadow’s room. The duchess’s voice follows them as she answers Shadow’s request. “Oh yes, my dear, I can take care of that for you, of course!”
Cal’s room is clean and comfortable, from what he can see with only the dim night sky in the open window, but he doesn’t care to inspect it just now. He really is exhausted—it hits him fully, all at once, the weeks of being on alert morning and night.