Esteban loosened his grip on the prisoner. “At last we are getting somewhere.”
Lew frowned, his beard twitching. “Larke’s son was giving a woman trouble?”
“I only know what I heard. She didn’t want to leave the inn with the young lord, and the villagers tried to step in. His lordship got mighty upset, and he cooked up that nasty enchantment somehow.”
“What happened to the woman?”
The prisoner shrugged. “Left with the young lord, I guess.”
Archer signaled that he needed a minute. Esteban picked up the curse stone with a grimace and pressed it to the prisoner’s skin again. The prisoner flopped sideways and began snoring.
“Lady Mae,” Lew said as soon as the young man was unconscious. “The young lord must have brought her through New Chester on the way to Narrowmar. She revealed she was being kidnapped, and the villagers intervened.”
“He cursed the entire village for that?” Nat asked. “For standing up for a scared girl?”
“I’ve seen worse curses laid for less,” Briar said softly. The more she learned about Lord Larke and his son, the less she cared for them. They seemed like exactly the sort of people who would hire her parents to take revenge on a bunch of poor villagers.
Jemma hadn’t spoken during the interrogation. She was studying Archer intently, as if his face held the answer to an old riddle. She wrapped her red shawl tighter around her shoulders. “Larke’s son,” she said at last. “He’s the one?”
Archer paused for a beat. “Yes.”
“The one what?” Nat asked.
“It all makes sense now,” Jemma said.
“What does?” Nat asked. “What did I miss?” He looked at Briar, but she was just as confused as he was.
Archer and Jemma seemed to be communicating through eye contact alone. They looked a lot alike, Briar realized, standing on either side of the fire, the light illuminating their golden hair.
“They have to know sooner or later,” Jemma said after a long pause.
“All right.” Archer sighed and turned to the others. “This is a secret, so don’t go shouting about it in your cups.”
“More secrets?” Briar asked.
He met her eyes. “Secrets upon secrets next to more secrets.”
“Whatever that means,” Nat said impatiently. “You going to tell us or not?”
“Lady Mae is with child,” Archer said.
“With what child?” Nat asked.
Lew rolled his eyes. “It means pregnant, dimwit.”
“With a baby?”
“With Larke’s son’s baby,” Archer said. “The father’s name is Tomas. He is twenty-five years of age, and he has spent every one of those years being a raging scrotum face.”
Briar wrapped her hands around the strap of her paint satchel, surprised but not entirely shocked that Mae’s situation was more complicated than she’d been told. So she was carrying the grandson of her father’s bitterest enemy. That was a dangerous secret.
“Tomas Larke is too old for Lady Mae, ain’t he?” Nat asked. “She’s practically a child herself.”
“She’s barely eighteen,” Archer said. “And yes, that’s part of why he’s a raging scrotum face.” His eyebrows drew down, mouth twisting as if he tasted something sour. “She was smitten with Tomas when they first met. She threw herself headfirst into their secret romance, believing it would last forever. To him, it was only ever a conquest.”
“How do you know all this?” Nat asked.
“It’s complicated,” Archer said, catching Briar’s eye again.
She was developing a theory about Archer’s real identity and the unrequited affection he must feel for the girl they were going to so much trouble to rescue. Archer was risking his life to help Lady Mae out of a difficult situation another man had caused. It made Briar admire him more, but a sense of melancholy tinged her admiration. Archer’s mission had only ever been about Lady Mae. Briar was an assistant, an accessory, a hired paintbrush.
“The important thing,” Archer continued, “is that Tomas Larke discarded Lady Mae before she realized the baby was on the way. It would have been better for her to keep it a secret, but the elder Lord Larke must have learned his grandchild was to be born to the daughter of his worst enemy. He sent Tomas to Barden Vale to steal her away before her own father could find out.”
“Are you sure Lady Mae didn’t go willingly?” Briar asked. “If they had this secret love affair, maybe she wanted to be with the young Larke.”
Archer ran a hand through his hair. Blood from the fight stained his cuff. “I wondered the same thing, but what happened in New Chester confirms she’s being held against her wishes. Even if she left her father’s house willingly, by the time they made it this far, she wanted to go home. She asked for help at the inn—and we’ve seen the result.”
“I want to make sure you all understand what this means,” Jemma said. A breeze sent the sparks from the fire swirling around her, ruffling her silver-and-gold hair. “We’re not just taking back a prisoner of this petty rivalry Barden and Larke call a war. We’re not just earning a reward or saving a kidnapped girl. We are stealing a man’s heir out from under him.”
“Potential heir,” Archer said. “I suspect Jasper Larke is waiting to see if the child is a boy. If it is, they’ll announce that the young lovers eloped, and the child will be declared legitimate. Mae’s son will inherit both Larke and Barden counties—and Jasper Larke will bring him up to be all Larke.”
“And if it’s a girl?” Esteban asked.
Archer grimaced. “Unlike in the Barden family, there are other Larke males who’d inherit ahead of Tomas’s daughter. Lord Larke might force Tomas and Mae to try again for a boy in that case, or he might want to brush this embarrassing incident under the rug and marry his son into a more suitable family. He might even kill the child.”
“And what will happen to Lady Mae?” Nat asked.
“Her life is in danger either
