Twilight of a Queen (32 page)

Simon bore her no resentment, after the havoc he had wreaked upon this island during the years of his youthful arrogance and bitterness. He had eschewed his profession as a witch-hunter, but the ladies of Faire Isle would not forget what he had once been or forgive him for it.

Digging his knees into Elle’s flanks, Simon urged his horse onward toward Belle Haven where he was at least assured of a welcome from one woman. The daughter of the earth who dared to call him husband.

Elle’s pace had lagged ever since they had arrived on Faire Isle. Simon’s beloved mare was growing older, no longer possessing the same stamina for long journeying. Elle had ever been skittish about crossing the narrow causeway that stretched between the island and the mainland.

But the mare’s ears perked up as they drew near the courtyard of Belle Haven, an ivy-covered stone manor with a single square tower. Exhausted as he was, Simon sat straighter in the saddle himself. His heart lifted, especially when he guided Elle into the stable yard and saw a fairylike woman with flowing moon-gold hair.

Miri crouched down as she held a mastiff puppy in her arms, trying to hold the wriggling creature still so that she could teach her small nephew how to pet him gently. Since Leon gamboled about her skirts, every bit as excited as the puppy, the lesson appeared to be proving quite a challenge.

When she glanced up and saw Simon, her face lit up. Consigning both the puppy and Leon to the care of Seraphine, Miri bolted across the stable yard before Simon could even dismount.

Knowing his Miri and her great love for all four-legged creatures, it would not have surprised Simon if she had greeted his horse first. Although she did caress Elle’s forelock, she scarce waited until Simon’s boots struck the ground before hurling herself into his arms.

God, how he had missed her. Simon crushed his wife in his arms, then laughed and spun her in a circle before remembering the precious burden she carried inside her.

He placed her reverently back on her feet. He contented himself with a long tender kiss despite the teasing way his impish niece Seraphine whooped and applauded, her hand clapping imitated by little Leon.

Miri pulled a wry face at her niece and nephew. She shooed them off with a wave of her hand before turning back to Simon with a delighted sigh.

“This is quite a surprise, my love. Have you ridden all this way to reclaim your errant wife?”

He tugged playfully at one of her tresses, his gruff tone concealing the way his heart swelled at the sight of her. “You have been gone nearly a month, my lady.”

“No? Truly? Has it really been that long?”

“It is obvious that I have been missing you far more than you did me.”

Miri crinkled her nose, looking adorably guilty. “I have missed you, Simon, but it has been so wonderful—” When she broke off, he finished for her, “Being home again?”

He well knew all that Miri had given up by marrying him. Of the three Cheney sisters, she had been the one who had most loved Faire Isle.

She cupped his cheek with the palm of her hand. “No,
Simon, home is wherever you are. You should know that. But it has been wonderful being with Ariane again, and spending time with Gabby’s girls and little Leon.”

She beamed up at him. “And you will never guess what? I have a brother, Captain Louis Xavier Cheney. I am sure you will wonder how that came about. You must come inside and meet him. Seraphine will look after Elle. I am sure she is dying to do so. And while you refresh yourself and wash off the dust of the road, I will explain everything.”

Seizing him by the hand, Miri tugged him in the direction of the house. But Simon’s elation in seeing her had made him forget the reason for his journey to Belle Haven, the grim tidings that he brought. Miri’s evident delight in her newfound brother was only going to make what he had to say that much harder.

As he hung back, Miri sensed his reluctance. Swinging around to face him, she asked, “Simon, what’s wrong?”

“You recall that I have been making enquiries, trying to gauge what is going on in Paris. I have learned something recently, something bad.”

“About the Dark Queen?” Miri faltered.

“Not just about Catherine.” Simon sighed. “It also concerns this new brother of yours …”

XAVIER SAT AT THE KITCHEN TABLE, LABORING OVER HIS
drawing, the stick of charcoal gripped awkwardly in his right hand. Like many sea captains, he had mastered the art of sketching, the better to record many of the exotic flora and fauna he had encountered in his travels.

But he was hopeless with his left hand and his right was still frustratingly impaired by the splint. It also did not help that he was surrounded by a critical audience, his two young nieces, Lucia and Ninon, hovering on either side of him.

Xavier stole a glance across the room. Jane was preoccupied, instructing one of the younger maids in a method for getting stains out of fine linen. Xavier set down the charcoal and began to loosen the bindings that held his splint in place.

But Lucia sang out, “Milady Jane, look what Uncle Xavier is doing.”

“Telltale,” Xavier growled.

Jane bore down upon him with a mighty frown. Much to the amusement of his small nieces, she thunked him on the head with a wooden spoon as she scolded. “How many times must you be told? Leave those bandages alone.”

“But the blasted thing itches. I surely must be healed enough by now. It has been almost a month.”

“Ariane says you must wait at least another week or two.”

“By that time my arm will be completely withered from lack of use,” Xavier grumbled, but felt immediately ashamed of himself. But for Ariane, he would have no right arm at all.

“Very well,” he said. “I shall try to behave myself.”

“That, sir, I fear may be quite beyond your power. Perhaps Meg can brew up some kind of potion that will give you more patience.”

Meg looked up from the book on healing herbs that she was reading near the hearth. She smiled. “That, I am afraid, would be quite beyond
my
power.”

Xavier pulled a fierce face at all of them. He sighed, doing his best to manipulate the charcoal with his fingers protruding beyond the end of the splint.

Jane lingered near the table to watch and as his nieces crowded in even closer, his eyes met Jane’s above the two golden heads.

She smiled that particular soft smile that she reserved for him alone and he felt his heart respond. He wondered if she was thinking the same as he. That this is what their life together might be if they were to wed, their own children clustered around them.

The notion did not alarm him as it once had. He was daily growing more accustomed to the idea. Perhaps for the first time in his life, he understood why some of his men had been so eager to debark at their home port after a long voyage. It was because of the warmth and comfort of returning to one’s own hearth and family, that sense of belonging somewhere in this vast wide world that he had never had. Until now.

Lucia tugged impatiently at his sleeve, recalling him to his task. As he wielded the charcoal across the parchment, the wings of the creature took form and shape. He eyed his efforts critically. Not as good of a dragon as he could have conjured if he had full use of his right hand, but a creditable enough effort.

Ninon popped her thumb out of her mouth, her eyes wide. She gestured toward his picture with her drool-soaked finger. “You saw that beastie in your jungle?”

“Indeed I did. It nearly toasted me with its fire and had me for breakfast.”

“That sounds like another of your stories, Uncle. I do
not believe you ever saw a dragon,” Lucia said with a toss of her long blond hair.

“I do.” Ninon frowned at her older sister. “You never believe anything.”

“That’s because Lucia is a perennial skeptic,” Xavier said.

“What’s a peri animal skeptar?” Lucia demanded.

“Someone who does not even believe they have a nose unless they look in the mirror.” Xavier dabbed a smudge of charcoal on his niece’s snub nose.

Lucia scrubbed at her face, scowling at him before appealing to Jane. “What do you think, milady? Was that dragon real?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps we should ask Meg. I believe she used to have a book on dragons.”

“Which I was obliged to abandon when we all left London.” Meg closed up her text on herbs and strolled over to study Xavier’s drawing.

“It looks like the Ethiopian dragons that were in my book,” she said.

“But are dragons real?” Lucia persisted.

“I believe so. Indeed I am convinced
she
exists.”

Xavier looked up at Meg’s remark. “I am sure you don’t have to worry about this particular dragon. She is old and her teeth have been drawn.”

Meg smiled, an unspoken understanding passing between them. Perhaps he had done wrong to assure the girl she would be safe from Catherine de Medici. All he could really promise Meg was that she had nothing to fear from him. He would protect Meg if it became necessary and not just because of Jane, but for the girl’s own sake.

He could not say that they had become fast friends, but a tentative alliance had formed between them since that afternoon in the cove. Perhaps because they had both renounced their own particular demons when he had poured out his shaman’s brew and she had destroyed her crystal. Or perhaps it was something more elemental, a shared understanding of the struggle to overcome the chains and scars of the past.

Meg bent closer over his drawing. “I think your dragon needs a longer tail.”

Xavier surrendered the charcoal to her. Ninon wriggled her way onto his lap while Meg put a few deft finishing touches to his picture.

They were all so absorbed that at first none but Xavier noticed the man who stole quietly into the kitchen. Then Lucia squealed out, “Uncle Simon!”

Despite the little girl’s customary boldness, she did not barrel toward the man as she was wont to do with Xavier. Xavier could understand why.

There was something intimidating about the man’s scarred face, the eye patch that concealed his right eye. The fleeting smile he bestowed upon the little girl was more of a grimace.

So this must be Simon Aristide, the erstwhile witch-hunter who had married his youngest sister. Any doubts Xavier might have had were settled when Miri entered and linked her hand through her husband’s arm. She was followed by Ariane.

Something was wrong. Miri’s eyes were red and Ariane looked pale. When Seraphine crowded into the room
after them, she glared at Xavier as though he had kicked her mastiff puppy. As for Aristide, the man’s eyes were like stone.

Xavier eased Ninon off his lap and stood. He had a strong feeling this was not going to prove a continuation of the tender family reunion. When no one offered any introductions, he stepped toward Aristide, extending his left hand.

“I presume you must be my brother-in-law. I am—”

“I know who you are,” Aristide said, ignoring Xavier’s outstretched hand.

Those few terse words were fraught with ominous meaning. Xavier stiffened, drawing his arm back to his side.

“Seraphine, please take your sisters outside,” Ariane said. “Take them to—to see the puppy and play with Leon in the stables.”

Both little girls set up wails of protest, but Seraphine dragged them away as though she were rescuing her sisters from the devil himself. A heavy silence ensued.

Meg’s brow knit with confusion, but she regarded everyone with a somber calm. Perhaps because the girl had known so much of trouble in her short life, she was always braced for more.

Jane looked far more anxious. Drawing closer to Xavier, she asked, “Ariane, what—what is wrong?”

It was Aristide who spoke up. Ignoring Jane’s question, he addressed himself to Xavier. “You are Louis Xavier, the corsair who is known as the Jaguar?”

“A foolish nickname, but yes, I have been called that.” Xavier felt Jane’s fingers curl about his arm, her touch
warm and reassuring. “And yes, I am a pirate. I have never made any secret of that fact.”

“But there are other things you have kept secret.”

“Such as?”

“Your dealings with the Dark Queen.”

Meg gave a tiny gasp, the girl no longer looking so calm at the mention of the queen. Jane frowned at Aristide.

“Whatever are you talking about, monsieur? After the cruel way that witch used his mother, Xavier would want nothing to do with Catherine de Medici.”

Aristide’s attention shifted to Jane, the stern cast of his countenance softening. “I am sorry to pain you, madame. But since last fall, I have been looking into rumors that the queen acquired a necromancer. I was unable to confirm the identity of that man until recently.”

His gaze returned to Xavier. “Do you deny you are that man, monsieur?”

Xavier lifted his brows haughtily. “Do I look like a sorcerer to you?”

“That does not answer my question.
Are
you the man who claimed to be a sorcerer and worked for the Dark Queen?”

“Of course, he is not!” Jane cried.

Xavier was touched by how swiftly she sprang to his defense, but he squirmed inwardly. He felt a surge of red creep up his neck, his gut churning with guilt. He ought to have confessed to Jane about his involvement with the Dark Queen a long time ago, but he was damned if he was going to do it this way before the censorious gaze of some former witch-hunter, even if the man was Miri’s husband.