Gene of Isis

My eyes were glued to the duel taking place and when Ashlee tripped on her skirt and fell backwards, it seemed the game was up. Devere and I both gasped. Ashlee’s opponent whipped his sword tip across her upper arm, tearing through the sleeve of her brown velvet frock to leave a trail of red in between the damaged fabric. Ashlee inspected her wound briefly, but did not nurse it. Surely it ailed her, yet it only seemed to make her more resolved to win the contest. She recovered her footing quickly and fought back with twice as much vigour as before. In a frightful onslaught Ashlee disarmed her opponent and, to the duke’s applause, she bowed to him to claim victory.

We all, in the Long Gallery, applauded the outcome.

‘That was extraordinary!’ My admiration for my friend worried Lord Devere, although he was quietly impressed himself.

‘Please don’t take a fancy to duelling, my love,’ he jested.

‘I daresay James fears the competition.’ Earnest defended his brother. ‘Swordplay is not his best attribute.’

James was mildly annoyed by his brother’s insult, but he did not refute it. ‘Give me a pistol any day.’

We watched as Ashlee passed her weapon to the man attending her and as she moved to approach the duke, he unexpectedly ordered her arrest.

‘What does he think he’s playing at?’ Devere protested, and would have stormed to Ashlee’s rescue had the duke’s guards not entered from both ends of the Long Gallery. ‘Ashlee!’ Devere yelled to his wife, desperate for her welfare. FROM THE TRAVEL JOURNALS OF MRS ASHLEE DEVERE

A lot of good our magnificent duel had done me; now I was being arrested!

I could only suppose that the duke would tell me that my sword fighting skills were beyond the capabilities of a mortal female and that I had made a pact with the devil! Well, maybe that was not so far from the truth, I considered, turning my questioning gaze to Albray. He had parted with me as soon as the duel was over and was now accompanying me.

I don’t understand what went wrong. My knight was as surprised as I was to be trailing the duke back to his room of court under guard.

It had felt wonderful, though, to wield a weapon with such precision. My stupid dress had proven to be our only downfall. Obviously, Albray was not used to fighting in so much excess fabric.

I’m sorry about the gash, he said, obviously following my train of thought, or I his.

I hadn’t even felt the wound until Albray had departed my form—no doubt he had learned to ignore pain. My wound had begun to smart, however.

It was that gown of yours…have you ever considered finding yourself a nice pair of trousers?

More than once actually. A precious lot of good a change of clothing was going to do me now.

The guards left me in the room of court with the duke, who called for his steward to fetch a surgeon to tend my arm.

‘Do you intend to adhere to your blood oath, your grace?’ I asked before I accepted his help.

‘I do indeed,’ he assured me with a warm smile, which set my misgivings to rest. ‘And then some.’

‘But my arrest?’

‘Was a fabrication,’ he said merrily. ‘It seems your pesky Monsieur Devere refuses to leave before questioning me about you, and as he just witnessed your duel and arrest from the Long Gallery, I now have the perfect opportunity to delay him for you. While he pleads for your release, you and your gypsy party can be on your way.’

I was relieved to learn of the duke’s foresight. ‘That is brilliant, your grace. I could kiss you!’ I was so excited not to be thrown in prison, and to have freed the gypsies, that I quite lost my head.

‘I do wish you would.’ He grinned mischievously, and I obliged him with a kiss on the cheek.

‘Thank you, your grace.’ I then curtseyed to pay my respects. ‘I am most indebted to you.’

‘Nonsense,’ he chuckled. ‘We both know that it is I who is indebted to you…Lady du Lac.’ He took hold of my hand and kissed it.

The door to the room opened abruptly and I withdrew my hand from the duke’s and stepped away. I feared my husband was coming for me, but it was the Duchess de Guise and therefore I curtseyed deeply.

‘Enough is enough, my dear duke. I shall not allow you to arrest this woman.’ The duchess confronted her husband on my behalf. ‘Have you not seen our son?’ she appealed. ‘He is healthier than he has ever been. And our servants are recovering also.’

The duke was smiling as he said, ‘Anything for you, my love. You win. I will not arrest her.’

Surprised to have won so easily, the duchess decided to push her luck. ‘You will allow Mademoiselle Winston to depart Orleans this day, with all her companions.’

‘And on my best horse.’ The duke turned to me: ‘I do believe that was our arrangement?’

When the duchess saw my large smile and my affirmative nod, the penny dropped. ‘Including Cingar Choron?’ she said hopefully. As both the duke and I nodded, the duchess was possessed by happiness and embraced her husband. I looked away as they renewed their affection for each other.

‘It seems that whatever harm has been done to my house, you have completely undone,’ the duke said at last, calling for my attention. ‘True to the reputation of the fey, the magic you weave is pure inspiration.’

De Guise was not implying heresy this time. It was a true compliment; Albray had also referred to me as one of