Traitor's Masque (47 page)

Lady Colbourne favored him with a self-satisfied smirk. “Of course,” she continued silkily, “I have said nothing, even now. I cannot wish for my husband’s memory to be tainted by such a scandal. And if… when, she is found, I trust that Your Highness will see fit to restore her to us without reference to the unfortunate truth. It would a great pity if Lord Colbourne’s legacy were to be overshadowed by the disgraceful behavior of a child who hasn’t the wit to appreciate that her circumstances should have left her on the street!”

Ramsey smiled. It was not a nice smile. Without removing his eyes from Lady Colbourne, he reached into his desk once more and produced another paper, old and much folded. “Perhaps, Lady Colbourne, you would do me the honor of perusing this other document. I assure you, it is as genuine as the first.”

She took it. Unfolded it. And sagged visibly in her chair. Her perfect porcelain complexion seemed to age before his eyes as she looked at him with an expression of un-comprehending blankness. “It’s not true,” she whispered. “It can’t be true. Percy hinted once or twice, but there was no proof…” She froze. Realized too late what her words had implied.

“Why, Lady Colbourne, nothing more to say?” Ramsey’s tone grew mocking as he rose to tower over her. “Did you forget to mention that
this
,”—he pointed to the paper—“is the scandal you truly wished to conceal? Perhaps even more than you wished to disinherit your stepdaughter!”

The blonde woman’s mouth opened briefly, and shut. There was bitter resignation on her face as she rose to her feet. “Excuse me, Your Highness.”

“Sit down!” Ramsey rarely had occasion to use such a tone and was a little surprised when Lady Colbourne obeyed. “You will be excused when I have finished and not before. Your disregard,” he stated coldly, “both for the demands of the law and the duties of kinship, disgusts me. I intend to see the full weight of the law applied to your judgment whenever we are able to ascertain your daughter’s whereabouts. In the meantime, Lady Colbourne, might I suggest that leniency could be in order if you think yourself capable of following a few, very simple instructions.”

The once-disdainful widow nodded, without looking up. Her expression, for once, was stripped of pretense. There was nothing left but defeat.

 
Chapter 17
 

The feeling of grim satisfaction Ramsey derived from his confrontation with Embrie’s stepmother was all too short-lived. Too soon, the pressures of waiting reasserted themselves. Two days he waited, paced, pretended to keep busy, failed to eat, worried about his father, watched for returning messengers. Two endless days, and nights that brought little to no sleep. A week had passed since Rowan and Embrie had disappeared. Ramsey had almost convinced himself to stop hoping when the letter arrived.

It came in the hands of a courier, who had ridden hard for three days on his way from the town of Zell, last outpost on the northeast road that led through the mountains—mountains that guarded the border between Andar and Caelan. On the outside of the letter was penned in a strong, ornamental script, “Prince Ramsey Donevan Tremontaine.” The writing was unmistakably his brother’s.

Ramsey’s hands shook nearly as hard as the courier’s legs as that mud-spattered young man collapsed into a chair. Knowing the importance of what he carried, the courier had ridden almost the entire distance without stopping except to change horses and eat.

The courier stopped gulping water long enough to explain. “I put up the message, Your Highness, in the center of town,” he said hoarsely. “And waited. Folks were getting upset when they read it. Best I could tell, the mood was ugly. Folks out there have always been loyal to His Majesty.” He took another drink. “About a day after it went up, I was ready to leave, head back. Came out to my horse, found this tucked in my bag.” He shrugged. “Never saw who put it there, Your Highness, but it looked like something you’d need to see.”

Ramsey agreed. “You’ve done well.” He gripped the messenger’s shoulder briefly, and was answered by a shy dip of the head. “Get some rest.”

He did not stay to chat, but nearly ran to Lizbet’s office and entered without knocking. His aunt was sitting on the floor talking quietly to her son, yet swiftly dismissed Parry when she saw Ramsey’s expression. He broke the seal and read silently what his brother had written. Without a word, he handed it to Lizbet and walked over to the window with a quick, nervous stride. She watched him but did not press him, only read the letter for herself.

To My Beloved Brother and Future Sovereign, Greetings,

It can hardly have escaped my notice, brother, that there has been, of late, a stirring of sentiments amongst the general populace which are hardly flattering to either my person or my reputation. I cannot pretend to remain unwounded by the spurious claims being both proclaimed and promoted with commendable industry in every community along my road. Imagine if you can, brother, my sorrow at the discovery that the liability for these upsetting and injurious rumors lay, not with those of my enemies as have frequently stooped to fallacious accusations, but with my beloved family, whom I have ever counted amongst my staunchest defenders and allies. It falls beyond my scope to conceive of the transgression which has effected this material change in your affections for me, but I find it in me to believe, wholeheartedly, that your wish, dear brother, to resolve this painful breach in our friendship is as fervent as my own. I hope you will forgive me for not accompanying this letter, as it has, strangely, become both difficult and tiresome for me to travel. My heartfelt plea must be that you will consent to join me here, in this delightful, if somewhat provincial, location, that we may attempt, with dignity and forbearance on both sides, to resolve whatever matter has proven so ruinous to the intimacy which has always characterized our relationship. I beg you will exercise both haste and discretion, dear brother. Allow me to assure you that it would prove quite immeasurably distressing to both of us should our failure to resolve these differences result in irreparable harm to those whose loyalty to our fair kingdom has ever been above reproach.

As I am well able to offer you the hospitality of my establishment here in the fair city of Zell, I would be quite thoroughly offended if you felt it necessary to burden yourself with the distractions of retainers or baggage. It would, I am convinced, be entirely to the benefit of all should you arrive both swiftly and without accompaniment. Until such time as I am privileged to embrace you once again, I remain,

Your Fondest, Most Obedient Elder Brother,

Prince Rowan Calloway Tremontaine

“That
bastard
,” Lizbet muttered under her breath as she finished reading. “At least he makes himself clear: come alone or she dies.” Ramsey still said nothing. “What are you thinking, Donnie? How will you answer him?” She paused to consider, her chin in her hand, one finger tapping her pursed lips. “I suppose we could counter-offer. Send an entourage to a safe distance and negotiate. I’m not certain I feel comfortable with a flat refusal.”

“No,” said Ramsey.

“No, what?”

“No, to all of it,” he answered. “Kyril was right. Rowan is neither omniscient nor perfect, but he is smart. We have no way of knowing where he is or how entrenched he could be by this time.” For once, Ramsey felt sure of himself. “He will not risk capture, nor will he compromise.” His mouth twisted, as if tasting something unpleasant. “At least, he never has before. I believe,” he continued after a thoughtful moment, “we must do as he requests.”

Lizbet’s mouth fell open, then her brows drew together in anger. “Absolutely not! Donnie, I will not permit you to endanger yourself. Remember what he’s done! What he hopes to do! Do you really think he will hesitate to harm you? That these feelings he claims to harbor are genuine?” Her face was quite red by that time, but the tirade stopped when she realized Ramsey was not going to fight her.

“Aunt Lizbet, I love you,” he answered quietly, “but this is not for you to permit or otherwise.” He strode towards her and took her hand. “This is mine to answer. I am his brother and I am Father’s heir. It is past time for me to face him, as a man and his future king, and put this issue to rest.” He smiled at her sadly. “This game he plays is now between us alone, and I am not entirely a fool… he has taught me well, since we were very small. I think that I can ensure my safety, and, by going alone, I endanger no others.”

Lizbet looked at him, tears pooling in her eyes.

Ramsey had no desire to hurt her. She might be his aunt, and very nearly his mother, but she was also his advisor, and now he needed her to accept that role above the others. To support his choice, even if part of her still saw him as a boy who needed her.

She closed her eyes, and nodded, just barely, in acknowledgement. “Your Highness,” she whispered, “let it be as you say.” Before she could open her eyes, Ramsey took her by the shoulders and shook her. Surprised, she glanced up through her tears.

“Cut it out, Auntie,” he chided firmly. “Yes, I intend to be overbearing and have my princely way this time, but that’s no reason to give me this ‘as you wish’ nonsense. You’re still my voice of reason, even if I occasionally choose not to listen to you. No doubt to my eternal detriment.”

Lizbet wiped her eyes, smiled weakly, and smacked the back of his head with fervor. “That’s right, foolish boy, and if Brawley gets to hear of this you’ll be in twice as much trouble.”

Ramsey groaned. “I know,” he admitted. “I should probably find someone to sit on him. Unfortunately, right now, I need you to gather as much of the council as you can, and at least one of the barristers. I’m going to need an expert to draw up a legal document. Also, send someone to prep a horse and food for three days’ ride. Money as well. I’ll be taking the courier route and changing horses as often as necessary, but I’d rather not spread my identity too widely as I go.” His lips twisted. “Charging my expenses to the family coffers might bring more notoriety than I’d care for.”

Lizbet had to agree. Outside of Evenleigh, Ramsey’s face was not well known. Unaccompanied, he could likely travel in anonymity across much of the kingdom.

With so much to accomplish and time being short, little speech passed between them as the hour of departure grew near. Ramsey spent a considerable period closeted in his rooms with the barrister and councilors, and emerged slightly after lunch, dressed for traveling, bearing one bag and two sets of papers. The atmosphere in the hall outside his rooms was tense, though it contained only two people: his aunt, trying to look nonchalant, and Brawley, not trying at all.

“This is not happening, Your Highness.” Brawley’s teeth were clenched and his jaw muscles appeared near frozen. His eyes flashed with more anger than Ramsey had ever seen from his friend and captain.

“Brawley.” Ramsey acknowledged him evenly. “I appreciate your concern but I don’t believe I asked for permission.”

“No.” The older man’s voice was hard. “You didn’t. And neither am I.”

Ramsey sighed, and glared a little at his aunt. “Aunt Lizzie, I thought we agreed someone was going to sit on him.”

Lizbet gave him a pointed look. “Nobody agreed on anything, Donnie. I’m not stupid enough to get between you two, but I happen to agree with Brawley.”

“Alone, Brawley.” Ramsey tried patience. “The note said alone, and that’s how I’m going. I’m not risking anything else.”

“Yes, Your Highness, you are.” Brawley would not be cajoled or convinced this time. His hard, clipped words betrayed cold fury. “You’re risking the heart and soul of this kingdom and I am
not
going to allow your father to wake up and find out that I let you! You can imprison me for treason or you can shut up and let me come, but those are the only options.”

“Brawley,” Ramsey groaned, his voice rising in frustration, “I’m not doing this because I suffer from a manly need to prove myself, and I’m not trying to be some kind of martyr. But I can’t let my brother hurt anyone else! I don’t want to make this an order, so why must you test me?!”

“Because you’re practically my son!” Brawley roared back. He stopped, chagrined, and went pale as he realized what he had said. He had obviously not intended the words to be out loud.