Chapter 7
The next day, Sebastian packed up and left for Rennes. Jarrod didn’t try to stop him. Perhaps he realized such efforts would only result in an ugly battle that could produce more harm than good . . . and he still might need Sebastian’s help in the future.
For now, he had me to smooth over any socializing.
“I’ll be home in a month,” Sebastian said.
I never told Rolf about our visit to the village.
The following week, Rolf, Jared, and I were on our way to Partheney. It was a four-day journey, and we brought a large retinue of guards.
I often rode beside Miriam, so Rolf and I didn’t speak much during the day, but we stayed at inns along way, and he was attentive at night, kissing me more deeply than ever before. Jarrod would never openly admit to my being essential in this venture, but Rolf acknowledged my importance without reservation.
He valued me for what I could do, and a part of me basked in his appreciation. I’d never been appreciated before, and it was seductive. Another part of couldn’t forget how Sebastian had opened my eyes, and yet, I had no intention of disappointing Rolf.
Another plan was forming.
Near the end of the fourth day we arrived at the glorious city of Partheney, located on the west coast of the nation. The city stretched for miles, but it spread out around a hill and at the top of the hill was an enormous eight-towered castle. Our king had several castles, but he resided here in the autumn.
Much of the city itself had no walls as it had grown outward over the centuries, but the poorer citizens lived on the outskirts and the more affluent lived closer to the castle. Jarrod knew the roads well, and he led the way through the crowded streets.
Upon reaching the outer wall of the castle, he presented a letter, which I took to be the invitation he’d mentioned, and the castle guards ushered us through the gatehouse. Once inside the wall, we crossed a bridge and then passed through a second gatehouse and entered the vast courtyard of the castle.
It was alive with activity as guards bearing the colors of different noble houses all seemed to be giving orders regarding the distribution of luggage or stabling horses or housing men.
Our own men began to dismount and engage in the same sorts of activities.
Before I realized it, Rolf was on the ground beside me, and he reached up to lift me down.
“Where to now?” he asked. “We’ve never stayed at the castle.”
I made sure Miriam was with us, and then I looked around until I saw a middle-aged soldier in a light blue and yellow tabard, the king’s colors.
“Captain Trevar?” I called.
At the sight of me, he stopped what he was doing and came over, his eyes taking in Jarrod and Rolf in some surprise.
“My lady?” he asked.
“Can you please have us escorted inside? We should already have rooms prepared.”
“Yes, my lady.”
I’d known Captain Trevar since I was a girl, but he’d never seen me in the company of anyone besides my father. Still, we were clearly royal guests, and he called out to another man.
“Sergeant, see Lady Megan and her group inside. Find someone to show them to their rooms.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jarrod glanced down at me. “Deftly done,” he said quietly.
“Not for a daughter of the Chaumonts,” I answered.
He frowned. “You’re a Volodane now.”
“Of course.”
* * * *
That night, we attended a large, informal dinner in the great hall of the castle. There were tables everywhere laden with food and drink. Everyone milled around, sitting when and where they chose and walking when they chose.
The king sat at a table up on a pedestal, but he didn’t stand on ceremony tonight, and occasionally spoke to people standing in front of the table—while he ate—before turning to someone sitting on his left or right.
Jarrod and Rolf both seemed more comfortable with this arrangement than with a formal dinner where all eyes seemed to be upon them and they were expected to contribute to a single discussion.
I was just about to sit down when I looked across the hall and saw my parents enter. My mother was tall and imperious as always, my father alert. Both were dressed impeccably.
Upon seeing me, they came straight for us. Mother didn’t bother kissing my cheek.
“Megan,” she said, with a nod.
An unwanted flash of anger rose inside me. She had absolutely no idea what kind of life she’d sent me to. Nor did she care. She’d not written me a single letter to ask how I fared or if I was happy.
For all she knew, Rolf could have beaten me with a riding crop every night.
“Mother,” I responded.
My father looked to Jarrod. “So, you wish to throw Rolf’s name in for the open seat on the council? Rather poor taste as one of your other sons ran a dagger through Monvílle’s throat, don’t you think?”
So, he knew the whole story. Normally, though, he wasn’t so openly cutting—more subtle. His manner suggested he was a good deal more bothered by Jarrod’s threat to expose him than he’d sounded in that letter he sent.
“My dear,” Mother said with a hint of warning. “Lord Jarrod, please accept our condolences on the death of Kai. I enjoyed his company during your visit.”
Jarrod’s tight expression flickered. “Thank you.” His eyes locked on my father. “I’d like to speak to you alone tomorrow. Perhaps before lunch?”
I could see the resentment under the skin of my father’s face, but Jarrod had him over more than one barrel, and he couldn’t afford to offer offense.
“A walk in the courtyard?” Father suggested.
“Fine.”
At that, my father took my mother’s arm. “Forgive us. We have so many people to greet.”
They walked away.
“Puffed-up snob,” Jarrod said quietly. “You wouldn’t know he’d borrowed the money for those clothes on his back.”
I couldn’t argue.
* * * *
Rolf stayed late in the hall after dinner to speak with some of the men, but I made my excuses and went to our room. Miriam had just slipped a white nightgown over my head when a single knock sounded and Jarrod walked in. He didn’t seem remotely abashed by my state of undress. I grabbed a silk robe off the bed and donned it.
He glanced at Miriam. “Out.”
This brought a flash of alarm. Jarrod had never sought me out in a private bedroom before. But what could I do?
“It’s all right, Miriam. Please excuse us.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she slipped out. He followed her with his eyes.
“Pretty girl, that. I never noticed before.”
“How can I help you?”
His attention swung back to me. “You can drop the haughty act for one. We’re here on business, and tomorrow, you’ll get to work.”
“Doing what?”
“Dredging up dirt. Rolf needs at least six votes, and so far, we’ve only got three for certain.”
“You’ve already managed to secure three?”
I was surprised. There were normally twelve noblemen on the council, and all of them were much like my father, of the oldest blood. With Allemond Monvílle gone, that left eleven men, so Rolf would have to garner at least six votes to carry the open seat. No one of Rolf’s low status had ever come close to attaining a seat.
He nodded. “I’ve got your father in my pocket, and I’ll drive that home tomorrow. We can count on him. I’ve also got Lords Paquet and Sauvage cornered.”
“How?”
“Never you mind. You’re not the only one who knows how to learn secrets. But we’ve got their votes. That leaves three more, and the council convenes in five days. That’s not much time.”
“What is it you wish me to do?”
I had a sinking feeling I already knew.
He laughed without humor, and his eyes moved up and down my silk robe. I wished Rolf would come in.
“Do? You’re not a fool, girl. You know exactly what to do. Start reading men on the council and find something we can use.”
What he was asking was not as easy as he made it sound.
“I can only do one deep reading a day,” I reminded him.
“I know that, so you’d better choose right. Start with Lord Moreau. I’d wager next year’s taxes he’s as corrupt as they come.”
“And if I do find some dirty little secret he won’t want exposed?”
“Bring it to me. I’ll do the rest.”
Well, that was a relief. For a moment, I thought he might ask me to handle the blackmail. Now that I had my instructions, I only wanted him to leave.
Channeling my mother, I drew myself up. “Of course. Now if you’ll excuse me, it has been a long day.” I hoped to sound withering.
It didn’t work.
Instead, he closed the distance between us and grabbed my wrist again, jerking me up against him. His grip was painful.
“Don’t try that on me, girl, or I’ll leave a few bruises where they won’t show. And if you can’t get me something I can use in the next five days, you’ll find out what else I can do. You understand me?”
I was afraid of him. I didn’t want to be, but I was.
“Yes.”
He let go and started for the door. “Get started tomorrow.”
* * * *
The next four days were some of the worst in my life. In addition to fearing Jarrod, I genuinely wanted to help Rolf. I was ever mindful of what Sebastian had shown and told me, but I believed I could both support my husband and temper some of his baser drives.
As instructed, on the first day, I began by seeking out Lord Moreau before dinner. There was a crowd in the great hall, and I drew him off for a goblet of wine. This was easy. He seemed interested in speaking with me, as he was as stunned as everyone else by Rolf putting his name up for Allemond’s seat.
“How many men have requested to be considered?” I asked.
“Four others,” he answered but didn’t offer their names.
“Only four? Hopefully none of them will have any secrets that might prevent their election.”
Although this was an odd thing to say, it produced the desired effect. I focused fully on his thoughts as his mind instantly went to his own secrets.
Though his financial situation was not as bad as my father’s, he was having difficulties. Three nights ago, he’d been here at the castle playing cards. The king’s first cousin, the Duke of Ariennes, had joined the game, and Lord Moreau ended up playing credit—hoping to win a large hand. Instead, he’d lost four hundred pieces of silver to the duke. With a smile, Moreau had promised to pay the debt before leaving for home.
He couldn’t. He didn’t have the money, and he couldn’t borrow it from anyone here lest his situation become known. His plan was to wait until after the council’s vote and then fake receiving a note that his wife was ill at home. She’d not accompanied him this year. He hoped the duke would believe he’d simply forgotten the debt due to panic over his wife’s health. Once home and away from the other nobles, he might be able to raise the money. Or . . . the duke was incredibly wealthy, and he might even overlook the debt out of sympathy for Moreau dealing with an ill wife.
After reading these thoughts, I pulled from Lord Moreau’s mind and excused myself. All Jarrod would have to do was threaten to put a word into the duke’s ear that Moreau planned to leave without paying. Then the issue would become a matter of honor and payment would be demanded. When it was discovered that Moreau couldn’t pay, his standing would be ruined.
I took this information directly to Jarrod.
He smiled and nodded. “Good.”
We had four votes.
The next day I went after Baron Augustine. He was an old friend of my family’s and falling into conversation with him was easy. However, once I’d gotten him to focus on secrets, I was uneasy by what I found in his mind. He was worried and unsettled. He’d been embroiled in somewhat hurried negotiations with Viscount Bretagne—to marry his daughter to the viscount’s son, Richard.
The wedding was to take place here at the castle in a week.
Unfortunately, Augustine’s daughter was two months pregnant, by one of the house guards, and he was desperate that the wedding should take place before Richard learned of this. Afterward, the Bretagnes would keep the secret for the sake of their own family’s honor.
After reading his thoughts, I wavered. This information would give Jarrod a good deal of power that stretched far into the future. Should the child prove to be male, it would mean the heir to the Bretagne was illegitimate, and Jarrod wouldn’t hesitate to use this against them.
Still, I had little choice.
Jarrod would be waiting tonight and expect me to have something of use.
He was thrilled when I told him and actually patted me on the back. “Good girl.”
I wondered if he knew how condescending he sounded.
We had five votes.
The next day proved a disaster. I decided to go after the oldest man on the council. At the age of sixty-two, Lord Cloutier had held his seat the longest. I tried him because I thought anyone who’d been in power for so long must have some secret he wished to be kept.
To my alarm, as I read him, I found nothing. He was a man of ethics with nothing to hide.
Jarrod snarled when I told him. He raised one hand but stopped himself and didn’t strike me.
“You’ve got two days,” he said.
On the fourth day, at a gathering for lunch, I tried Lord du Guay. He was a quiet man, and I wondered if his mild demeanor might be a cover for something darker. I was not wrong, but once I got him to turn his mind to any harbored secrets, what I saw was beyond unsettling. I almost recoiled from his thoughts.
He was man with penchant for what I’d heard referred to as “rough wooing.” As a girl, I’d never known what it meant. Living with the Volodanes, I could imagine a bit more, but in truth I had no real idea.
Lord du Guay liked violence with sex, and he liked to be the one meting out the violence. His wife knew of this penchant, but he valued her and cared deeply what she thought, so he’d convinced her that he’d managed to box up all his blacker needs and desires and put them away.
He had not.
Last month, he’d given in and raped his wife’s new lady’s maid, and in the process he’d also choked her. He’d not meant to kill her, but he had. Tragically, none of his peers would care much about the life of a maid, but his wife had been fond of the girl.
In panic, he’d disposed of the body himself, burying it in the forest behind his manor.
Feeling ill, I drew myself from his thoughts and excused myself.
All Jarrod need do was threaten to send a fast rider with a message for du Guay’s wife.
But this time, I didn’t go to Jarrod first.
When it was time to dress for dinner, I met Rolf in our room, and I sent Miriam away.
He glanced at me. “Don’t you need her to lace you up and do your hair?”
I didn’t answer. “Do you know what your father has had me doing these past days?”
He frowned. “Yes.”
His frown was colored by discomfort. Did he prefer to think he might win the seat on his own merit as opposed to blackmail?
“We now have the votes of five men in our pockets, and I have information that will ensure the sixth.”
Discomfort vanished. “You do? Have you told my father?”
I shook my head. “Not yet. I want something first.”
In all the time we’d been together, I’d never asked him for anything and I wasn’t sure how he’d react.
“You want something?” he asked. He looked at me as if I were a stranger. “What? Money?”
“When have I ever been interested in money? Once you have the seat, you’ll turn your hand to increasing the nation’s military. I don’t want you draining the common people dry in your efforts.”
His expression turned incredulous first and then angry. He stepped closer, towering over me. “Are you telling me you wish a voice in national affairs?”
I didn’t flinch. “Yes. You need me to secure the seat at all. After that, in the years to come, you’ll need me to know who is on your side and who has turned against you. You’ll need me the length of your career in politics, and I am saying that if you wish for my help, you’ll give consideration to the lives and needs of the people.”
He stared at me, speechless.
“I’m not saying I don’t believe in a strong military,” I went on. “I’m simply saying that while on the council, you should suggest other methods for raising funds than increasing taxes until the towns and villages are starving. If the people are strong, the nation is strong. Surely you understand that.”
His expression wavered, but he still looked at me as if I were a stranger to him. “And from where else should we raise these funds?”
“You can start with the coffers of the nobles themselves. Go to those who can most afford to be patriotic. In the case of war, you’ll need the common men to fight. Strong, loyal men volunteer and fight well. Weak, starving men have to be conscripted. Strong women left at home can work the farms. This is only wise policy.”
He stepped back. “Megan,” he whispered.
“I want a voice in some matters,” I said. “Do we have a bargain?”
He was quiet for a long moment and then slowly nodded.
Turning away, I headed for the door. “I’ll go to your father now.”
* * * *
When the council met to vote, they cloistered themselves away around a long table inside a room with two solid oak doors.
At least sixty people stood in the large passage outside those doors, awaiting the result.
Jarrod, Rolf, and I stood together. My mother was not there.
People spoke in hushed tones, speculating on which of the men might be voted into a seat of such power. None of them had any idea that the outcome was already a forgone conclusion.
The meeting didn’t last long,
When the doors opened and the men emerged, Lord Cloutier led the way. His face was ashen, and when he spoke, his voice held disbelief.
“The seat has been won by Lord Rolf Volodane.”
Gasps resounded.
However, once the shock passed, people quickly began to congratulate Rolf. Jarrod stood glowing beside his son.
My own father appeared as stunned as everyone else, and he moved over beside me. “Five other men voted for him,” he whispered in what sounded like horror. “You know that I had to, but I cannot fathom what just happened in there.”
“Can you not?” I challenged him.
His eyes flashed to my face as the truth dawned. “You . . .?”
I couldn’t help a wave of satisfaction. He’d thrown me away like yesterday’s refuse so that he might pay a few debts. Now, he was reaping what he’d sown.
Rolf Volodane held a seat on the Council of Nobles.