Gene of Isis

‘He is my guide to the Mediterranean,’ I explained. ‘He is vital to me achieving my objective.’

‘But I can supply an army to accompany you. I have boats—’

‘Your grace…’ I interrupted politely, ‘this is a secret mission. The gypsy band is the perfect cover. I must free their captain. I must have Cingar.’

The duke drew a deep breath, reluctant to acquiesce. ‘Such persuasion as you have must stem from otherworldly means.’

Although he said this in a complimentary fashion, I thought it best to refute his suggestion. ‘I am a woman of science, your grace. My skills in negotiation stem purely from training and education, I assure you.’ I wasn’t going to end up on a heresy charge. Albray had been right to insist that I avoid working any miracles here. De Guise may have been allied to the bloodline, but I knew his family was careful to preserve ties to the church as well.

‘Convince me with your skill and, by my vows to the bloodline, I could not deny you anything,’ he assured me.

I told you there was nothing to worry about. Albray moved with us, as the duke led me to a suitable arena.

‘I must leave Orleans today,’ I added, to be perfectly clear on this point.

‘On my finest horse,’ the duke promised generously and I was satisfied. If Albray was as fine a swordsman as he claimed to be—and my knight had not failed me to date—there was no reason to believe that we would not make a fine showing for the duke.

LESSON 13

COOPERATIVES FROM THE HONEYMOON JOURNAL OF LADY SUSAN DEVERE

On the second morning of our journey to Orleans, Lord Devere and I were awoken in the early hours by the head maidservant at the hotel. She had heard from the coachman that Mr Devere had left our accommodation late last night, having purchased a saddled horse from a man in the salon downstairs.

It was my worst fear come to pass.

‘Did he leave an address of where he was headed?’ My Lord Devere was out of bed and ringing the bell for the servants to attend us.

‘He left this for you at the desk, my lord.’ The head maid handed the note to my husband, whereby she curtseyed and departed as the house staff entered to dress us. ‘He has gone to visit Gasgon de Guise, Duke of Orleans.’ Lord Devere raised both brows, intrigued. ‘He does not mention why, however.’

‘After our meeting with the gypsies our brother said something about a rescue mission.’ The notion did not preoccupy me long—there would be time to consider motives once we were on the move.

‘The Duc de Guise is not a man to be toyed with.’ My husband looked worried as he explained this in the carriage.

‘I feel certain that our sister would have considered the danger before pursuing any business with the duke.’ Or so I hoped! ‘Or perhaps she merely has business with someone else in the household and not the duke at all.’

My lord still appeared worried, although he forced himself to better his spirits for my sake. ‘It shall be a pleasure to make his acquaintance, I’m sure.’

We spent the better half of the day in the carriage, and upon reaching our destination we were told that the duke was unavailable for the rest of the day. The duchess wasn’t accepting guests either, as there had been illness in the house—we were assured that the emergency had passed, however.

‘And has a Mr Devere requested an audience with your duke this day?’ Lord Devere inquired.

‘Oui, Monsieur,’ the steward reported, slightly exasperated about the fact. ‘The duke could not see him today, but as he refused to leave before gaining an audience, the duke kindly extended Monsieur Devere accommodation for the night.’

‘May I see Mr Devere?’ my husband requested, sneaking me a smile. His brother’s persistence amused him, and I think my lord was pleased that we’d caught up with his little brother before he did himself and their family name any damage. ‘I am his older brother, James Devere, Earl of Oxford.’

‘Of course, my lord.’ The steward humbled himself a peg. ‘Monsieur Devere is in the Long Gallery. If you will follow me.’ The steward led us up the grand staircase beyond the foyer.

In the Long Gallery we found our brother looking out a set of huge windows. He appeared to be completely contented with the view. In fact, I had not seen him so at peace in a week.

‘Earnest,’ Lord Devere called to his brother, but he did not look to us as we approached. ‘Earnest, what in god’s name are we doing at the court of the Duc de Guise?’

I looked for the source of Devere’s enchantment to see our dear sister in a courtyard, armed with a sword and duelling with another swordsman in front of the duke.

‘Oh, my god, it’s Ashlee,’ I mumbled, horrified. To the best of my knowledge, Ashlee knew nothing about swordplay, but observation told me differently, for she was well and truly holding her own against the competition.

‘She is magnificent,’ uttered Devere, openly revelling in the sight of the woman he desired.

‘Well, if she’s down there, let us go fetch her.’ Lord Devere headed for the door.

‘I have tried to get to her,’ Mr Devere informed him, sounding far calmer than one would expect. ‘The duke’s guards intercepted me and brought me straight back up here. So, for now, I must content myself with the knowledge that she is in my view,’ he nodded toward Ashlee, ‘and doing a far better job of defending herself than I gave her credit for…she displays all the valour and technique of an experienced knight.’ He was awed, relieved and delighted.