Daring In a Blue Dress Page 26

  “Yes, yes, I have,” I said obnoxiously, and put my hands on my hips, fighting hard to keep from outright accusing her of trying to murder him.

  She clicked her tongue. “Honestly, Mercy, I don’t know why you have to be such a bitch to me. All I want is to tell Alden that there are some people trespassing over there.”

  I turned to look where she pointed. Two silver vans were parked on the far side of the remains of the house, with a group of four people standing together in a cluster evidently consulting.

  “I know Alden doesn’t want anyone to go poking around in the bits and pieces of the house. If you won’t tell me where he is, then you can at least tell him that there are trespassers doing who-knows-what.”

  “They aren’t trespassers,” I said shortly, wanting to get past her to Alden to see how he was after his fight. “They’re probably the fire investigators, or the police.”

  “Police?” Her voice went a bit shrill, and she took a sip of her coffee to cover it. “Whatever are the police doing looking at a burned-up house?”

  It cost me a lot, but I kept from telling her they were probably looking for signs she had been cooking meth in the walls. “I know they were waiting for it to be safe to investigate the cause of the fire. No doubt they’re doing that.”

  “Ah, that makes sense.” I swear she relaxed at the news, which troubled me. I had been trying to work out a reason why she would want to burn down the house, but couldn’t come up with one, and now here she was relaxing when it came to the idea that people were going to investigate the fire, just as if it had nothing to do with her.

  “Well, dammit,” I murmured to myself when she left me without another word. “If it turns out I can’t blame her for any of the evil things that have befallen Alden, I’m going to be very pissed.”

  The next few hours slipped by without me being aware. There was Alden to see and beam loving looks to (and receive a few in return, which made me want to dance and sing all over again), and my former pupils to cheer on when they went into the archery ring. Alden and I helped out wherever possible, mostly with squire duties arming and disarming the various combatants, or pointing out where the portable toilets had been arranged (behind the stable, thank heavens), where drinking water was available, and where the catering company needed to set up their long tables of food, which the participants and their helpers alike descended upon like voracious wolves.

  By early afternoon, I’d forgotten the people who were poking around the ruins of the house. I sat next to Lady Sybilla and Adams for a half hour, watching the various forms of melee fighting.

  “I have to tell you that I’m a bit surprised you are enjoying such a bloody sport,” I told Lady Sybilla when one of the combatants had to be assisted out of the list, and was having the doctor attend to what appeared to be a broken arm.

  She tilted her parasol so that she could pin me back with her pale blue gaze. “Why would I not enjoy medieval combat? It is, of course, upon the backs of knights just like these that our country was created. It is a noble sport, after all.”

  “I guess so, but it’s a bit . . .” I waved a hand around while I thought of the word I wanted. “. . . gory.”

  “It is invigorating,” she said, turning her eyes back to the ring as the next two combatants—two women, this time—were announced. “I am very pleased that I had the foresight to bring these people here, and look forward to seeing them next year.”

  “I don’t know that there’s going to be a next year,” I said slowly, my gaze searching the crowd for Alden. He’d told me at lunch that he had decided to accept Barry’s offer for the land, assuming I had no objections to him using the profits to buy a house elsewhere.

  “Nonsense. Why wouldn’t there be?”

  “Well . . . I should let Alden tell you, since he’s the owner of the house, and I’m just his . . . er . . .”

  “Mistress?”

  “Girlfriend,” I corrected. “Permanent girlfriend. I think you should know that Alden has been offered a nice chunk of money for the land by the bird conservancy people. It wouldn’t affect you, because you were given the use of the gatehouse for life, and of course, that would be included in the deal.”

  “Poppycock,” she said dismissively. “Your young man would not sell Bestwood. He is going to rebuild the hall into one that is not so drafty, and once he has finished, Adams and I will move back into it.”

  “Ah. Gotcha,” I said, not wanting to upset her, or ruin the fun she was having watching people fight.

  My individual competition in the late afternoon was pretty anticlimactic. I stood in position, Fenice’s bow now feeling like a familiar friend, and loosed twelve arrows, not overly stressed about where they landed. I was getting tired, to be honest, and just wanted to curl up with Alden and have him tell me again how much he loved me, all of which contributed to the fact that I came in sixth in the team competition and fourth in individual.

  “Well done,” Fenice said, appearing to be pleased despite my lackluster performance. I slid the bow into its bag, zipped it up, and handed it to her for what I realized would be the last time. “I’m proud of you, Mercy. You had a lot of competition, but you shone despite not competing for a few years.”

  “Well, I did have three weeks of practice,” I said, accepting her praise nonetheless. “But thank you. I couldn’t have done it without your awesome bow. I don’t suppose you’d be willing—”

  “No,” she said firmly, hoisting the bag a little higher. “But if I ever do want to get rid of it, you’ll be the first person I tell.”

  “That’s a deal,” I said with a grin. We strolled back toward the melee list, chatting with people who’d come to the classes over the course of the last few weeks. There was a general sense of excitement as everyone began to gear up for the big all-in melee battle.

  “Have you heard the good news?”

  I jumped at the booming voice that came from behind me, spinning around to see Barry Butcher in armor, his hands and head bare as he strode toward me like he wasn’t wearing at least fifty pounds of plate metal strapped to his person. “Uh . . . no?”

  “Alden has agreed to sell the estate to the conservancy.” Barry beamed, his red hair standing on end.

  I still hadn’t forgiven him for shooting at Alden during our lesson—because I was fully convinced it had been him, although I couldn’t work out how he had hidden that red arrow without me seeing it—but now was not the time to raise that particular fuss.

  “Yes, he told me. I hope the birds will be very happy.”

  “Oh, they will be, they will be indeed.” He actually rubbed his hands together. “The board is just thrilled at the thought of designating not just the breeding ground but the whole estate as a sanctuary and learning center. In fact, I am having some plans drawn up—”

  “Barry, you’ve got to get your helm on.” A smaller man, dressed in what I imagined was a squire’s garb, trotted up to Barry, a metal helm and mail gloves in his hands. “The all-in is about to start.”

  “Wouldn’t want to miss that,” Barry said with a grin at me. “Last man standing gets five hundred quid.”

  “I know. And Alden’s going to get it,” I said, filled with bravado on the love of my life’s behalf. “Speaking of him, I should go wish him luck, and give him a favor or something. . . .”

  I started to drift away as Barry stuffed the helm on his head, allowing the squire to pull on the mail gloves.

  “Mercy!” Lisa raced up, stopping me with her shriek.

  “Jeezumcrow, Lisa,” I said, turning to give her a glare. She’d removed her sunglasses, and had, as I’d suspected, red, bloodshot eyes. “What’s the matter now?”

  “It’s the men!” she said, waving a hand behind her.

  “What men?”

  “The investigators!” She grabbed my arm, all but yelling her words. I wondered if she’d been
hitting the bottle a bit in an attempt to hair-of-the-dog her hangover. “They’re going down into the cave you said you found.”

  “Can you turn down the volume a little?” I asked, frowning.

  “They’re going into the cave!” she repeated at an even louder volume.

  I shook off her hand, not wanting to deal with a drunken, loud Lisa when there was a sweet, adorable Alden to see off to battle. “So? Look, that’s their job. And if you don’t mind, Alden is about to go—”

  “The men,” she bellowed, trailing after me as I dodged the stream of men and women who were entering the list. “The men are going into the cave!”

  “Get an effing grip on yourself,” I hissed, spinning around to fire a really first-class glare at her. “Go sleep it off if you have to, but stop making a scene. Oh, great, now Alden’s in the ring and I didn’t have time to give him a good-luck kiss, even. Thanks a lot, Lisa.”

  “But the men are in the cave!” screeched Lisa, her voice carrying across the sound of the armor clanking, and the crowd chatting and getting ready to cheer their favorites on.

  At that moment, something odd happened.

  The men in the list had been arranged loosely in groups of five, and were just taking up their positions. Vandal had created a group with himself, Alden, and a couple of his other top students, while some of the other students formed up their own group. The rest of the groups consisted of the combatants who had come just for the event, leaving about ten distinct clusters of men dotted around the list.

  Suddenly, the group of five that consisted of Barry and his buddies took off at a run. A slow run, a shambling run, one that kind of reminded me of zombies lumbering after fresh meat, but still, a run.

  Away from the melee.

  “Well, that’s odd,” I said to Lisa, but she was gone.

  A whistle blew, and some of the men in the list shouted at the group that had run off. I hustled around to where Fenice was standing, shading her eyes with her good hand as she stared after Barry’s group.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, coming to a stop next to her. “Why are they leaving? That’s not part of the combat, is it?”

  “No, and I don’t know what they’re up to. Looks like Patrick is talking to one of the judges about it.”

  Alden had been standing with Vandal as the latter spoke to the three judges that monitored the fighting, but after a minute’s conversation, he suddenly pulled off his helm, and ran after Barry’s group.

  “Now Alden’s left!” Fenice said, swearing under her breath. “What is going on out there? Patrick!”

  “The cave,” I said, thinking over what Lisa had said.

  “What?” Fenice didn’t even look at me. She was waving her good arm, trying to catch Patrick’s attention.

  “Lisa was bent out of shape about the investigators going into the cave. She was . . . it was like she was warning me.”

  “Why would she do that?” Fenice froze as the words left her lips.

  “But she wasn’t warning me,” I said, sorting through pieces that were slowly sliding into place. “She was warning someone else.”

  “Bloody hell.” Fenice jumped over one of the bales of hay, and ran out to where Patrick was still talking to the judges.

  I stood watching the scene for a few seconds; then I was running, racing through the crowd, dodging people and chairs and bales of hay as I gained speed, breaking free of the garden and hitting the gravel drive. Alden was about a hundred yards ahead of me, and beyond him, I could see the five figures who were heading straight for the wooden staircase that descended to the beach.

  “She wasn’t warning me,” I yelled to Alden as I caught up to him. “She was warning Barry. Her husband! Barry is her husband!”

  “They’re in it together,” Alden said, puffing, his face red with exertion. “You were right all along—they were manufacturing drugs in the passages.”

  “Or in the cave. You want me to help you take off some of that armor?”

  “No,” he puffed, charging forward. We could see the wooden structure that was the top of the zigzagging stairs that led down to the beach proper. “Need it for fight.”

  “What fight? You’re not going to fight Barry, are you? Alden, you are not a medieval knight! There are cops here!”

  “Just in case,” he said, gasping as we reached the top of the stairs.

  The cliff was such that the stairs had four flights to get down to the beach, and since I wasn’t carrying around one hundred extra pounds of metal strapped to my body, I dashed ahead of Alden, leaping down the steps with the speed—although not the grace—of a gazelle in full flight.

  Down the beach thirty or so yards, Barry disappeared into the cave, his men at his heels.

  “If the cops are already there, they’ll arrest Barry,” I yelled back over my shoulder at Alden.

  “Possibly. But they might not be there yet,” he answered.

  “Lisa seemed to think they were,” I said, jumping the last five feet to the rocky beach, and immediately turning my ankle. “Oh, bloody effing hell, this is the last thing I need.”

  “Are you all right?” Alden asked, pausing beside me, his breath as rough and ragged as when we made love.

  “Yes,” I said, taking his hand and getting to my feet. “Just stupid.”

  Alden took my arm, slowing his pace to match my hobble. We reached the cave entrance in what seemed like an excruciatingly long amount of time. Alden entered first, pausing so we could listen. There was no sound other than the gurgle of the stream.

  “Where do you think they are?” I asked in a whisper, following him when he led the way into the dark cave. The lights weren’t on, no doubt their connection having been destroyed in the fire, which made the going rather treacherous. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “I don’t know, but they have to be in here. The passages must have collapsed when the house burned.”

  We crept our way down the wet rocky ledge, the curve of the cave blocking the sunlight from the entrance.

  “Look,” I said, pointing. “Someone has a lantern.”

  We hurried forward as best we could, emerging into the cave proper, where the makeshift dock was slowly rotting away. Someone had set a camping lamp there, its blue-white glow illuminating the cave. Behind us was the entrance to the passageways leading into the house. Alden started into it, but stopped almost immediately.

  “Blocked,” he said. “As I thought.”

  “Then where did they go?” I asked, lifting the lamp to look around. The cave stretched back into blackness, ending with the same wall we’d seen when we first examined it. “It’s empty.”

  “It can’t be.”

  “But it is.” I walked to the far end of the cave, and swung the lamp around to show him. “See? Nothing. Maybe the passage into the house just looks blocked.”

  Alden was frowning, his brows pulled together as he slowly clanked his way down to me. “Do that again.”

  “Do what?”

  “Hold up the lantern.”

  I swung it up in an arc, and then turned in a full circle to illuminate the area.

  Alden’s eyes narrowed. “Get behind me,” he whispered, leaping across the stream. At that point, it was only about a yard wide, evidently emerging from under the wall.

  “What—”

  I stopped when he held his finger up to his lips, gesturing for me to follow him.

  With my ankle throbbing and complaining, I jumped over the stream, and trailed him when he headed for the back wall of the cave.

  Only it wasn’t a wall. Not a complete one, anyway. There was a narrow slit right where the back of the cave met the side wall. The opening hidden by the shadows of the cave, there was just enough room for a person to squeeze through it.

  Alden went first, then stopped suddenly, blocking the opening.

 
I gave him a little nudge, but he didn’t move. Pressing myself against him, I got him to take a step forward, giving me enough space to enter behind him.

  Five men faced us, each armed with a sword.

  “Crap,” I said softly.

  “So. You finally figured it out, did you?” Barry asked, shaking his head. He, like the other men, had pulled off his helm, and as he shifted, I saw the prone form of a woman behind him, crumpled up like a discarded bit of clothing.

  “What have you done to that woman who lusted after Alden!” I demanded to know, trying to come around beside him, but he held me back. “You bastard! You killed Tamarind, didn’t you!”

  “Of course not,” Barry said, exasperation rife in his voice. “We just knocked her on the head. She was in our way, and we don’t have long to get this equipment out. She’ll be fine, and when she comes to, we’ll be long gone.”

  “The meth lab!” I said, peering over Alden’s shoulder. Visible behind the group of men were several white plastic tubs, clearly packed with all sorts of drug-making paraphernalia. Included were a couple of wooden tables loaded with high-tech scales, what looked like distilling tubes encased in glass, various metal pots, beakers, and wash bottles. “Holy crap, we were right! Alden, we were right!”

  “So we were.” Alden hefted his sword. “Although I’m still a bit confused as to why you chose my house to serve as your drug lab.”

  Barry sneered. “If you think I’m going to explain anything to you, you’re more stupid than I thought. Now, you have two choices: you can either turn around and walk away from this, forgetting you saw anything, and in the morning, you’ll receive a nice check from the conservancy, or you and Mercy can join the cop here.”

  “Over my dead body,” Alden said.

  “Full points for dramatic elements, sweetie, but I think the less we mention dead bodies, the happier I’ll be,” I whispered to him.

  “You can’t expect to fight us all,” Barry said, laughing. “You’re not that good.”

  “Perhaps not, but I can try,” Alden said, the manly personification of everything brave if somewhat unrealistic.