ROOK AND RAVEN: The Celtic Kingdom Trilogy Book One (16 page)

“You must realize I had you meet me here and earlier than planned due to the attack,” Bishop interrupted his wandering thoughts.  “I think the one piece of information now certain is that the Gooar has an informant, among our numbers.  There is no other way they would not only be onto me but know where to find me.  The girls are being carefully, quietly moved as we speak.  I will take no more chances than necessary with the lives of the innocent.”

Sebastian smiles slightly as most people would not apply the word “innocent” to the women and girls who worked the whorehouses of any city or country tavern.  That was something else Bishop had taught him, people did what they needed to do to survive.  They frequently made sacrifices of both morals and conscience to serve a greater good or just to keep a roof over their heads.  After learning not only the danger these young women put themselves in, but how valuable they were to the cause, he would never think less of them again.  In fact, his contact with the women of Celtica had changed his attitude entirely from the wrong headed ideas with which he had been raised.  That thought made him cringe at his treatment of Jessy last night.

He was supposed to be maintaining his image as a wastrel rake with no interest in things like a “greater good” or politics but it pained him to not let Jessy know the man he had become.  The mask had slipped at River House and he was sure Bishop would not thank him for that moment of weakness. He was about to be surprised yet again.

“Sit down Rook.  You can only spend so much time in a men’s apothecary without arousing the suspicion of any watchers.  Though,” and here he smirked, “with your carefully crafted image of being a debauched nobleman you might get by with a longer visit and raise no eyebrows,” he actually laughed damn him.

Sebastian sat in an overstuffed chair crammed between tables nearly groaning under the weight of astrolabes, chunks of rock, a dried cats head whose eyes seemed to follow him and a jar of what he was certain were live beetles.   He scooted the chair a touch further from the creepy cat head without trying to be noticeable about it.  

“The situation was complicated enough but now that we have sprung a leak so soon into the enterprise we must move more quickly and change the plan slightly.”  Bishop tapped his good fingers against the arm of the chair and seemed to stare fixedly at a spread winged bat suspended in the shadows of the ceiling.   “He or she has made a strategic error to have not waited longer to make the first move.  It cannot be chance that the attack came the same night as the king’s arrival.  The number of people privy to that information is very small and therefore the number of suspects is equally small.  If they had waited until we brought the king to London it might have been nearly impossible to ferret out the traitor.  I do not use the word traitor lightly my friend for the enemies of the true king of Celtica are England’s enemies too.”

Bishop sighed and tried to settle the sling more comfortably which brought Emrys over to unwarp the sling and examine the wound.  As Bishop continued, Emrys applied a bright purple anointment to the wound and then began to rewrap the bandage. “Since that damned Gooar took over Celtica they have conspired with the enemies of England. They have played upon those proud of old Viking blood on our own shores to turn them against our country.  The amount of assistance and information they passed to Bonaparte placed us in even a more precarious position than most in our government even knew.”  He pinned Sebastian with a sharp gaze.

“So, Rook, to your assignment.” 

Sebastian leaned forward intently.  He had stopped himself from wondering a thousand times what mission would be his.  The less he thought about what was to come the less time had to imagine the ways it could go horribly wrong.  Part of him hoped he would be allowed to shed the wastrel image that been nothing but a sham for the last years.  He’d rather like to be himself for once but he was sure that was a day dream not worth wasting his
time upon.  He looked dangerous and it was a fulltime job to convince people he was only hazardous to a woman’s virtue or a bottle of good brandy.  The irony was that he was now more dangerous than the enemy or London society could possibly conceive.

“Who do I need to kill or make contact with this time?” he hadn’t meant to sound slightly bitter but the knowledge that any job would preclude any further contact with Jessy was eating away at him.  He shouldn’t have allowed himself to see or speak with her in the first place and potentially make a target of her if, no when, his true purpose was exposed.

“First,” Bishop eyed him with clear sympathy but remorseless resolve, “is to make contact with the king.  I am sending you to Menwith, Tamworth’s small estate south of here.  The King Conal knows of you but not who you are or how to recognize you.  He needs a better idea of who he can trust and some information can only be passed in person.  He should have the compass so getting him to a meeting point and earning his trust shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“Second,” and here Bishop gave him a sidelong glance out of those strange blue eyes, “You will renew your relationship with Mrs. Jessamy Powers, on which I believe you already have made a start.” 

Sebastian was standing fists clenched before he even knew he was out of the chair,
“What?
No!” He realized his hands were shaking slightly with oncoming rage.

Bishop eyed him and the clenched hands.  His look, while clearly going to brook no argument, was not without understanding.

“It’s not like you haven’t already had dealings with her Sebastian.”

“Why?” Sebastian took a steadying breath. “Why involve her? I can tell you right now she knows nothing of the work her parents did for the Kingdom. 

They protected her in every way possible.  There is no role for her in this!”

‘If you would start thinking like my best agent again instead of a love struck idiot you would know the answer to that and know we have no choice,” Bishop with his gift of silence simply leaned back into this chair and waited in utter stillness.

It didn’t take Sebastian long once his brain started functioning and put aside his immediate denial.  It was clear as crystal and she would break just as easily if this went wrong.  He sighed knowing he was facing one of those moments every agent faced eventually, of choosing between the unacceptable and the intolerable.  Bishop was right; as usual.

“Tamworth,” he said simply.

“Tamworth,” Bishop echoed. 

The list of possible leaks was, after all, extremely small.  Tamworth may be trustworthy but it was only those about him who knew of the plans unfolding. It would be Sebastian’s job to find that leak and stop it; by whatever means necessary.  Even if that meant involving Jessy to do so. His connection
to Jessy was the perfect excuse to get close to Tamworth without revealing his true purpose.  It was the worst idea he could possibly imagine that could also hold the best chance of success.  Alastair hadn’t named them all for chess pieces without reason; espionage was simply a game of strategy that
always
required sacrifices.  He just hoped Jessy would not become a sacrificial pawn.

After Sebastian had left, Emrys and Bishop sat together in a moment of silence as the sound of the door’s bell faded.

“You know, it would have been very unexpected, but terribly nice to be recognized by my own descendent,” Emrys sighed, “but I suppose it’s all for the best he didn’t, at least for now.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Jessy’s true Monday could begin now.  Her free day.  Her happy day.  Mick was guarding the door like a dragon and she had gotten over her bout of tears brought on by memories of poetry spoken in love among a sea of flowers. She was now able to change into her riding habit.  Her one, horrendous, extravagance living in London was to keep a horse.  He wasn’t just any horse either.  Circumstance, and the entail, had deprived her of her family home. Fortunately, Cousin Albert had been anything but unkind when she had reappeared in London as a widow deemed socially unacceptable due to her employment.  Fanny, Albert’s wife, while concerned at first what their acceptance of her might mean to their social status, had been terribly sweet to her.  They had both taken a risk far before it had become clear that Mrs.

Jessamy Powers would be acknowledged, if not in all the highest circles.  

Albert and Fanny had pressed her to return home, and while it was tempting there were reasons she could not.  She had responsibilities she could not shrug off to indulge herself in the familiarity and comfort of her childhood home.  Michael had trusted her to take care of his own people, like the physically intimidating, gruff and completely loyal Mick.  With his broken nose, rough manners and scarred face he was not most people’s idea of a butler but he had been Michael’s man and now he was hers.

Two weeks after they realized she had truly made up her mind to remain in London, and that she did indeed have a loyal champion guarding her door, Albert had arrived unexpectedly with a present in tow.

She could barely believe her eyes or contain her joy when he had led her outside to see what he had brought.  Prancing lightly upon the pavement of the street, bridle held by the coachman was her beautiful, beloved Abellius so black his coat was nearly blue.  He turned his great soft eyes upon Jessy and nickered in greeting, straining at the bridle.  Without any regard for watching neighbors she had launched herself down the front steps and thrown her arms about her beloved.  

She was not ashamed to have cried.  Abellius had been the last gift from her father.  She had been there in the stall at his birth and their love had been complete from the first moment.  Leaving him behind when she fled had broken her heart but when she could not be sure of feeding herself it would have been cruel to take him along.  Obviously Albert and of course Able, Pemberly’s stable manager had treated him well.  

“Albert! Albert,” she had cried in turn throwing herself upon her cousin, “Thank you, oh how I thank you! I just don’t know shall I keep him here in London. Don’t misunderstand,’ and here she blushed, “I am more than grateful and so happy for your kindness but,” she lowered her voice, “I fear I cannot afford his upkeep.”

Albert had simply smiled, patted her arm and told her that until she could afford it Abellius would be kept stabled at the townhouse Fanny had brought as part of her rather luxurious dowry.  “I think you will be a great success cousin and not too far in the future you will have your mother’s dowry too.  But, I will happily keep him as long as you need and want him my dear.”

“I have only one question, “he looked quizzically at her, “What in the world kind of name for a horse is Abellius? I asked Able and he just smiled and said to ask you one day.”

“Abellius was the god of the apple trees,” she smiled “and he has an inordinate greed for apples, especially right from the tree.  It’s from a story of Celtica my mother told me when I was little.  He nearly drove Godfrey, the head gardener, mad eating up all the best fruit in the orchard.  If he was out to pasture he would jump any fence to get to the apples,” She laughed and reached up to stroke Abe’s silky neck and laid her face against his.  

Life in London had almost meant her death at one time.  The friends who had taken her in, family she had made her own, and the unexpected caring of her distant blood had finally opened her eyes to see she could find happiness in this life.  She had a career that was providing and income and return on her investment. Albert had also unknowingly given her a freedom of travel she so desperately needed.

So, every Monday, just as today, she and Abe made their way out of town.  He was ready and saddled for her by Tim, her young former chimney
sweep, another of what Sean called her “rescue projects” who had a passion for horses and treated Abellius as if he was the god he was named for.  With an affectionate pat on Tim’s head and a leg up she trotted from the little mews beside her house they had converted into a small stable.

The rain had let up and sunshine broke here and there from between the swiftly moving clouds.  The wind was brisk and she was glad of the riding coat she had put on over her habit.  With the heavily laden basket strapped to Abe’s haunches, full of delicious things from Mrs. Gibb’s well run, if slightly tipsy kitchen, she made her way through the streets.  It was only as she reached the edge, where city slowly began to give way to the country of Chiswick, that a clatter of hooves and a familiar “Hey Ho!” pulled her up to find, not unexpectedly, that David had joined her.  He had made it a fairly regular habit to come along on these Mondays.  He was always cautious to only join up with her once prying eyes were well behind.

David had to admire Jessy’s jaunty appearance in her deep blue habit. A velvet top hat with a striped white and blue veil danced behind her in the wind.  The veil was held to the hat by a white feather that curled artfully along her cheek.  Her burnished red and gold hair was severely and simply restrained and looked like a new penny shining against the dark richness of her hat.  She had come a long way from the hoyden tomboy he had grown up with.  

Their childhood of reckless tree climbing, fishing, racing their horses wildly along the river and fens, often returning home more muddy than clean,
was long past.  For all she presented such a lovely and sophisticated appearance he sometimes found himself longing for the days when responsibility had yet to settle upon her slim shoulders.  The freedom of childhood was always too short and rarely fully appreciated at the time.  There was never a reason any more to help clean the dirt off her face and help her sneak home through the kitchen garden.

She turned to him with a wary look in her eye and he smiled slightly to himself.  He knew exactly of what she was wary.  She knew he was not going to let her off the hook and not discuss the man on both their minds.  But first he was going to have a little fun.

“Made up your mind yet then?” he asked lightly.

“No,” she said shortly and picked up Abe’s pace slightly which he had no problem matching.

“Well I wish you would make up your mind soon,” he said a bit forlornly.

“I’ll make it up when I make it up thank you! You can’t pressure me on this,” she had just known he wouldn’t make it through the day without bringing up what she was going to do about Sebastian.

“Well we only have maybe a month at best for you to give me an answer,” he was enjoying toying with her a rather surprising amount he discovered.

“A month? What does a month have to do with it? What do you know that I don’t?” she eyed him suspiciously.

“Well I know I haven’t more than a month before Adlais will be in heat,” he looked at her innocently.

“Adlais? You are talking about your horse? You! You!” she spluttered incoherently and took a swipe at him with her riding crop. 

‘Well what was that for?” he ducked her little crop, “I’ve been trying for ages to get you to breed Abe with Adlais.  You know they’d produce an absolutely champion line.  You always put it off and this time I really need an answer.  Don’t want to breed her past her prime after all,” he said cheerfully patting his bay mare on her arched neck. She curveted coquettishly toward Abellius.  David realized his estimate of a month might be too long.  He’d swear she was flirting with the handsome stallion. 

She resolutely stared straight ahead giving him an enjoyable view of her lovely profile, even if it was rather more pink than usual.  She was embarrassed at being so easily played and wasn’t doing a good job of hiding it.

“Never did understand why you named her after your mother.  Who in the world names their horse after their mother? It’s ridiculous,” she sniffed but with a small bubble of laughter she couldn’t quite suppress.

“Before I lost her she used to watch the horses running on our stud back home in Wales.   She’d say how she wished she could run with the freedom and speed they had.  I think she envied them those beautiful big brown eyes too, hers were blue like mine.”  David turned inward for a moment.  It was so rare
for him to touch upon thoughts of his mother.  The sadness of a child losing not one, but both, parents so young never quite went away.  He could see his mother now with her long dark hair, so like his, blowing in the breeze as she stood at the paddock gate admiring their prized stock.

“You’ve done an amazing job rebuilding the quality of the stud David.  Your parents would be proud,” Jessy reached across and touched him lightly on his shoulder with a gentle smile.

“Thank you my dear.  It hasn’t been easy after all those years my guardian, the blood sucker known as Sebastian’s mother, let it go.  At least the old earl cared enough to see it was well run.  All she cared about was how much money she could get by selling off the stock.  Thank god the legal details of the trust didn’t allow her to access the capital or I would be a pauper. So, about Abe…you know my Adlais has a preference for him.  It would be quite the love match,” he laughed as the two horses put their heads affectionately together as they kept pace.

“Alright then.  Just let me know when and we will arrange it.  I suppose its past time to allow him to indulge himself and he couldn’t do better than Adlais.”

“They will make something really special that the
ton
will clamor to possess. It could make your transition from the theater finally possible.  I’ve thought about offering you a share in the stud if you’d let Abe become the primogenitor.” 

“
What
?” Jessy exclaimed. “David what a wonderful idea!  You haven’t mentioned this before!” Jessy felt her head whirl and her heart pound with welcome excitement.  It could present a solution to so many problems.

“Well now seemed the time.  I know you haven’t mentioned it to Sean yet but with circumstances now changing,” and here he gave her a knowing look, “I thought it might be time to show you another option. But I think we can move on to you and Sebastian now,” he slowed Jessy and forced her to face him by placing a gentle hand on Abe’s bridle.  He saw the momentary flash that entered her eyes at his words and the hand upon Abe’s bridle.  The big horse responded to her agitation by skittering sideways and showing a bit of tooth.  Abellius was not a stallion to be trifled with and he hoped Jessy would settle him quickly.  He really would prefer neither he nor Adlais were bitten, and he had a feeling Abe would make
him
his first choice of victim.

“Oh,” she sighed in vexation but relaxed the tension in her hands that held the reigns.  “Can’t I have just one more day of
not
thinking about it?” she almost pleaded but in a tone that told David she knew it was pointless.

“Did he give it even a day before he showed up in your dressing room? He may have changed in some ways over these years, but staying away from you doesn’t seem to be one of them.  Sweetheart with where we are headed I think the sooner you decide on the course of action you are taking the better.  It isn’t fair to leave it any longer.”  David felt for her, he really did but Jessamy Powers
had always possessed the bravery of a lion and he would not let her play the coward now.

Jessy turned to him with eyes bright with the fear she refused to express and reached for his hand.

“You’ll help me? Try and help me not to completely muck this up?  I’m not at all sure I can do this alone David,” she said simply and slightly desperately.  “Sebastian told me last night I was going to muck things up and I hope he didn’t turn into a prophet while he was gone,” Seeing David’s quick look of surprise at her words she elaborated, “Not about this, about something unrelated,” and she colored and frowned at the memory.

“Would I ever not stand with you? Or watch your back or stand between you and whatever would try and harm you? I may have finally grown out of fancying myself in romantic love with you but I still
love
you silly goose.  I’m right here and here I shall stay.  I just hope Sebastian doesn’t break my nose in the process,” David sighed. “It might reduce my marital prospects if my face weren’t so pretty,” he laughed ruefully and raised her gloved hand to kiss it gently.

“Now,” he challenged with a gleam in his eye, “I bet you a groat I can beat you to Maureen’s since Abe is laden down with a bit of a handicap.”

“Handicap! I hope you are referring to the basket and not me! I’ll see that groat and raise you two!” and with that she gave Abe his head.  Like the children they once were they raced for their goal, free for a few moments of all worries in the pleasure of the race. 

With such prime horses the distance was eaten up quickly and with a great whoop and wave of her crop Jessy pulled Abe up a full length ahead of Adlais at the gate to the sprawling farmhouse.  

“Pay up Lord Carvell!” she said triumphantly.

David dug into the pocket of his riding breeches and produced the ridiculously small sum they had wagered.  Before Jessy even had it in her hand the front drive erupted with the calls and happy shrieks of children of various ages, several large dogs and the commanding Irish tones of a woman attempting to obtain some order.  Maureen strode through the mayhem, hair curling wildly as always to open the gate.  She would put any general to shame with her ability to marshal her forces and create order from chaos.  She would have dogs and children under control in less time than it would take Jessamy to remove her gloves.