Beauty's Curse (22 page)

They'd seemed eager to accept direction. Even Rourke's. Well, what did she know about leading men? Rourke and Jamie had locked them in the solar. She'd told them, when they'd been released, that she would be marrying Lord Rourke Wallis. It was natural and right for them to follow his lead.

It irritated her to no end.

She tapped her fingers against the linen-covered tablecloth. Not one of them had even looked to her to make sure she was all right with their switch of allegiance. Sighing, she told herself to be mature. The family knights were used to answering to her father, not to her.

Galiana rued her mistakes as she waited for Rourke to join her for something to eat. Not that she was hungry, but Cook was working extra hard to make up for the miserable meal of yesterday. Which, she'd made clear to everyone within yelling distance, had not been her fault.

Just who was at fault had yet to be confirmed. For certes, her brothers had run from the manor. But a knight in Rourke's pay was also missing. To be fair, even Father Jonah had to be suspect.

Cook, angry that someone had messed with her food, was searching for a scapegoat and, unfortunately, thanks be to the twins changing her salt and sugar when they were eight, the lads seemed the best fit.

The woman was careful not to call them awful names directly in front of her, but Galiana heard some colorful descriptions whilst just around the corner.

She sipped from her goblet and surveyed the hall. They'd pulled two tables and benches out from the wall so that people could eat. Normally there would be much more bustle, with knights playing chess, or servants cleaning, or the dogs snuffling around the floor for a treat—but this was no ordinary day.

The knights were off working at whatever chore Rourke had put them to, and most of the servants remained stranded in the village. The rest of them were busy with Cook. The dogs slept in their kennels.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Franz stomped inside with the red-cheeked bailiff.

Galiana rose to her feet, clutching her fur-lined cape tightly around her shoulders. The gust of wind made the fire flicker brightly for a moment, before it settled back down. If she were the type of girl to believe in portents—and she was—then she would have called that an evil omen.

Apprehension swirled in her belly as she noticed Rourke was not with the two men.

She lifted her chin toward Bailiff Morton. “How goes the search?”

Frost stuck to his trimmed mustache, and Franz rubbed his gloved hands together. He and the Montehue bailiff trod across the hall, leaving damp, snowy footprints along the way.

“We've fed the animals and searched the stables and the barn for Sir Robert,” her bailiff said. “All of the horses are accounted for. Besides, the snow is piled too high to get out of the yard.”

“Mademoiselle, Robert is not here. We've gone over every inch of the manor and most of the outbuildings, as well.”

“I see.” What would Rourke think of one of his men deserting him? And why would Robert have braved the snow and cold with neither food nor furs? “Did he take his things?”

Will entered the hall from the back, his face ruddy from cold. “His pack is still here, as is his stallion. His sword is gone, but a knight would never leave that behind.”

Gali sensed his upset and so turned and sent a calming smile toward the worried squire. “You're concerned he went into the woods, mayhap too ill to realize what he was doing?”

“Nay,” Will answered. “He's not impulsive like that. In truth, I don't know what to believe.”

Godfrey and Jamie came in from the side door with two of her knights. “'Tis bad business,” Godfrey mumbled. “Fer a place that's supposed to be closed up with snow, it's got more comings and goings than Thursday market.”

Galiana rather agreed. “And yet nobody has left by horse. They've all gone by foot.”

“And covered their tracks.” The bailiff looked disgusted.

“You've searched all the buildings?”

“Everything that was open, my lady,” the bailiff answered. “The grainery is locked, as is your drying shed.”

“Your knights tried to clear a path, as you asked, but the snow's too high to even open the door, lass,” Jamie said. “Nobody's getting in or out of that.”

“The shed has a window in the back, up high, for ventilation. You'd not be able to see the back from the manor, here.” There was a sink, as well as tools and a little brazier for a fire. A man could survive if he could get inside. Galiana stepped down from the dais, realizing they didn't think her news anything to be excited about.

She sighed, keeping a simple expression on her face when she wanted to stomp her feet. Explaining in a slow, soothing tone, she said, “There is food and water both in the shed, as I spend much of my time there. Wood, for a small brazier, is also inside.”

“Did you tell Robert this?” Rourke demanded from behind her. The man was as stealthy as a hunting cat. “Were you planning to meet him there?”

Galiana whirled around. “Nay, why would I have done so? But the shed is betwixt here and the forest—the snow wouldn't be as thick under the cover of trees, and it would be easier to travel. If a man had gotten caught between here and there, though, mayhap he could climb through the window of the shed and survive a few days from the cold. It is simply a thought, my lord.”

Rourke's eyes flashed with golden temper. “Where is this shed?”

The bailiff led the way as Rourke called for shovels and men. Exasperated by his imperious ways, Galiana hurried to the kitchen to warn Cook that the food must wait—but when Lord Rourke called for it, it would need to be hot and plentiful.

The woman nodded and pursed her lips. “They still can't find that knight what is missin'? Which one was he again?”

“Tall”—Galiana placed her hand high above her own head—“and dark. He was kind of surly, and brawny.”

“Aye, I think I had to shoo him from me kitchen, when he was lookin' fer the twins. One of 'em, anyway,” she chuckled. “He found our Layla, instead.”

“Yesterday?” Galiana leaned over to inhale the delicious aroma of thick bean soup with ham hocks and carrots. Robert had been in the kitchen.

“Aye, but we kept our mouths shut about the boys, didn't we?” Cook asked, and the scullions were quick to agree that they hadn't said anything about Ned and Ed being in the pantry.

“They were both hiding in the pantry when Sir Robert came looking for them, or Ned, rather?”

She remembered Ed finding her there, and she immediately went to the huge door and pulled it open. Her brothers didn't spill out like puppies from a crate, although there was a certain smell that brought her sensitive nose up.

Cook came in, too, directly on Galiana's heels.

“What's that stink? Has a jar of pickled beets been broken? Joey, get in here, boy—did ye do this, and not clean up after yerself?”

The younger serving boy blanched. “I ain't been in here all day, Cook”

“Well, who has?”

“I put a crock of butter by the front, Cook, but I never went ta the back,” a girl said.

“Let me see, dear Cook,” Galiana said in hopes of halting a dressing down for the entire kitchen crew. The woman's temper was infamous.

The pantry, kept cool but dry, was long and filled with stocked shelves. Sure enough, a jar of beets had been toppled. In fact, Galiana noticed in the dim light from the kitchen that quite a few things were missing.

“We've been robbed, my lady,” Cook said indignantly.

“Mayhap someone was preparing for a journey? See what is missing, and that should tell us who took supplies and how long they planned on being gone.”

“Ooh, that's smart, my lady.” She glared at the two servants standing by the pantry door. “I'll do it meself, to make sure it gets done right.”

“Thank you, Cook. Uh. Joey, is it?” Galiana walked out of the pantry and blinked in the brighter light. “Were you helping my brothers with their jokes?”

His young face paled until the only color left was the brown of his freckles.

“You won't get into trouble. I promise,” Galiana said, bending over so they were eye to eye. “But I need to know what they were up to. Did they—” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Did they mean to get everybody sick?”

“No, no, my lady, they didn't. They didn't!”

That made her feel a little bit better, at least. “But they were the ones to add the buckthorn to the stew?”

Joey exchanged a quick glance with a little girl standing next to him, whose brown eyes were as large as buttercups. “Neither of you will come to harm, if you tell me the truth.”

Her soft tone encouraged the girl to say, “Master Ed put somethin' in the wine; that's all, my lady.”

Saint Jude, her brothers had meant to poison her? Her stomach lurched as she remembered Celestia's open book of medicinal recipes. Everyone knew valerian helped people sleep, and Ned had been so very upset about her immediate marriage to Rourke. Had they deliberately sought to make her sleep through the ceremony?

Or had the potion been for Rourke?

“Ned told 'im just to put a little bit, my lady,” Joey said as he dared to pat her arm.

She told herself to think about her brother's deeds later, and focus on getting answers. “So you say they didn't put anything in the stew?”

“No, my lady.” The little girl looked ready to cry.

“Did you know my brothers were planning on leaving the manor?”

The two children shook their heads. Joey offered, “But they's always hungry, my lady, so it weren't no surprise to see 'em tote out extra food.”

For certes, that was the truth. “What about Father Jonah? Did he come into the kitchen?”

The girl stuck her thumb in her mouth and stared at Joey, who seemed to be the one in charge of the talking. “Aye. He had words with Ned; he did.”

“They were arguing?” Galiana wished she could rush the questions, but she was afraid to frighten her untapped fountain of information. She kept her smile open and her voice low. “What about?”

Joey shrugged and wouldn't meet her eyes.

“Please, Joey.”

His face turned red behind the freckles. “Well, 'twas about you. Ned wanted to run Lord Rourke through with a sword afore ye suffered yer weddin' night, and Father—he says it'd be wrong.”

Galiana stifled a gasp. The scene was getting clearer, and she could easily imagine her brothers talking Father Jonah into running away with the dispensation, after safely drugging her, so that she wouldn't have to get married against her will.

Her eyes filled with tears at their unnecessary but loving gesture. Father Jonah knew about Celestia's medicinal book of recipes, and he could have decided to gain them all time by making the manor inhabitants sick.

It wasn't her brothers. She smiled through her tears. But Father Jonah?

The girl sucked louder.

She had to be sure. “You didn't see who put the buckthorn in the stew?”

“Nay,” Joey said, “else we wouldn't a been pukin', along with everybody else, aye?”

Good point, Galiana thought. “So what about Sir Robert?”

The girl took her thumb from her mouth so she could nibble her lower lip, and Joey blurted, “Him and Layla was kissin' in front of the pantry, and Ned come in the kitchen, see?”

Galiana didn't see, but she said, “Hmmm.”

“Ed, he was inside already, and if he come out, then the knight'd see there was more than one of 'em.”

“Oh, dear. Did Sir Robert catch them?” Had the boys run so Ned wouldn't go to the tower?

“Huh-uh,” Joey shook his head emphatically, jerking his thumb to the girl at his side. “I pinched Bertie”—Galiana looked at the little girl, whose big eyes now shimmered with excitement—“and she started bawlin', and then the knight left.”

Bertie whispered, “Layla said he could see her later.”

Galiana reminded herself to never underestimate children again. “I see. And where is Layla?”

“Sick, in her room,” Joey said. “Too sick ta clean up the mess, aye, but not too sick to eat what we brought up to her, eh?”

Back to sucking her thumb, Bertie said nothing.

It seemed logical Layla should be the next person to talk to about Sir Robert's whereabouts.

Cook came from the pantry and cuffed Joey on the ear. “Get ta work, now, and earn yer keep. Both of ya.”

Galiana opened her mouth to protest, but Joey ducked and ran to the spit, with Bertie on his heels. “Sorry, Cook,” they said in unison.

“Never mind that,” she said with a stern smile. “Now, my lady, we're missin' five links of sausage, three waterskins, and a bag of hard rolls. The beets must a been spilt when they was reachin' for the dried apples.”

Galiana dropped her chin. “Ed and Ned love their sausage and dried apples.”

“Don't I know it?” Cook shrugged. “They coulda cleaned their mess; that's all I'm sayin'. Or else asked me ta pack for 'em.”

“You would have done that?”

Cook quickly looked away. “Well, not without tellin' ya, my lady.”

Galiana laughed. “After they'd gotten a good start on me, I imagine.”

“They're smart lads, and they'll be fine. It'll be an adventure to satisfy their boys' hearts, my lady, eh?”

“Just a week past, I longed for adventure, but now I've had my fill. Where is Layla's room? I'd like to visit her and see that she's feeling better.”

“Lazy, that one, is all wrong with 'er, my lady.”

“Still…”

“Above the laundry, my lady, with the rest of us.”

“Thank you. And thank you, too, Cook, for looking out for my brothers.”

“No thanks needed! I had a bunch of boys myself once.”

“Where are they now?”

Cook snorted. “They turned into men, my lady.”