Hearts in Cups (16 page)

When he had been
dragged in here last night he had been too exhausted to do anything other than
slide to the floor in a faint after the chains had been clamped on and the door
slammed closed. Recovering his senses this morning, he had found a jug of water
and a covered container of cooked grain, gone cold and glutinous. He had drunk
most of the water in one draught and forced the cereal into his protesting
stomach. By stretching to the limit of his neck-chain he was able to relieve
himself in the foul-smelling hole provided, and then returned to stand as close
to the source of light and air as he could manage. From here he contemplated
his situation and felt very depressed in regards to his future.

He did not, could not,
blame Angharad, but he did castigate himself. Her headstrong naiveté should
never have swayed him the way it had, corrupting his own judgment. He had known
their elopement was wrong; wrong, not because it had so little hope of
succeeding, but because it was done without honour. Sneaking away as they had
was the act of guilty children. What they should have or could have done, faced
with his lower social status in respect to hers and the knowledge that her
parents would not have tolerated him as a suitor, he still did not know.
Passion (which seemed so irresistible when he was with her) evaporated into
foolish infatuation as he stood in the cold damp of his cell and waited for his
jailers.

The sound of a key
grating in its lock brought the focus of his attention back to the immediate
present. The door swung inwards and he saw a figure that made him turn his head
away in chagrin. The Viscount of Treves entered quietly and stood facing him.
With effort, Daffyd straightened and forced himself to meet the lord's eyes.

"I can't let you
stay long, m'lord," the jailer said uneasily from the door. "My
orders is that no one should visit the prisoner..."

"I'll be but a few
minutes," Lord Colin assured the jailer without turning. The door was
pulled shut and the two men regarded each other by the light of the lantern
that Colin set on the floor. "Well Daffyd?" His voice was light and
cool, telling nothing.

"My lord," he
mumbled in response, not knowing what else to say. The acute embarrassment he
had felt the previous night on seeing Lord Colin returned. The man had been his
patron and in many ways his friend. To be in his current situation after what
he had done, or attempted to do, was a degradation he had never thought to experience.
He almost wished that the duke's men had finished him in Dacara.

The silence grew and
Daffyd realized that he had let his gaze drop to the floor. Again he looked up
and found himself being appraised. Hesitantly he began to speak. "To say
that I am sorry for what has happened would be as true as it is inadequate. I
have committed a grave mistake, but it was not done out of evil intent. I have
failed in my duty to you and to my own conscience. Whatever penalties I must
bear, I will; only know that I never meant to wrong you or anyone else."
He finished his statement and fell silent.

"And if that
penalty be death?" Colin's voice was sharp. He was there, partly at
Dinea's behest, to determine what crime had been committed by their former
retainer from his own lips. Surprised by the degree of restraint used on the
young man, he found himself being harsher than he had intended, to compensate
for the pity he felt.

Daffyd's head rocked
back as if he had been slapped. "Death? My offense is not that great surely?
I admit I have been foolish, but I have not committed such a terrible a crime
as to be killed for it!"

"Then tell me what
crime you have committed," Colin demanded.

Not without a certain
dignity, Daffyd related in the close darkness of his cell the history of his
love for the Duke of Creon's daughter. Colin listened without interruption;
thinking all the while that it was much as Dinea had guessed and he had feared.
When he had confessed all of the story, Daffyd asked tentatively about
Angharad. "She is all right, isn't she? The guards did not mistreat
her?"

"As far as I know,
the Lady Angharad has been sequestered in her parent's rooms and is due to
leave Pentarin for Gwenth, in her mother's care, later today or tomorrow."

Daffyd nodded in
resignation. "Yes, I suppose that is best."

"Yes and no,"
was the unexpected response. "She is the only witness for your
defense," he went on to explain. "You affirm that she went with you
of her own will and that she left a note. Neither the duke nor the duchess, nor
anyone else in their household, has said anything about finding a note. The
duke's men say that they found the girl locked in a room at the back of a
tavern and that she was hysterical when they rescued her."

"It was not a
tavern, at least not in the way that they mean it. It was an inn and the door
was locked by her on the inside while I went out to buy food. As to the note, I
did not see it, but she assured me that she left such a note explaining why she
was going away with me. My lord, I swear that I did her no harm other than
running away with her."

"Was it her idea,
then?" Colin asked.

Daffyd paused to
consider and then answered, "We both agreed to it."

It was Colin's turn to
stop and ponder the framing of his next question. "Because of the duke's
accusations, I must ask whether you and the lady made physical love while you
were away."

If the previous
question had its delicacy, this question was even more sensitive to him.
"Traveling on an open barge as we did was not conducive to
lovemaking." He did not elaborate and Lord Colin asked for no further
details.

"I will do what I
can for you," the nobleman said with a frown, "but your situation
does not look so bleak to me now as when I entered. Ducal honour is a touchy
subject and Lord Branwilde is a very proud man. What you have done is
inexcusable, Daffyd ap Blewyns, but should not be punished with death." He
turned to rap on the door, signaling the jailer that his interview was over.

Colin strode back the way
he had come, deep in thought. It was still hard for him to believe that the
young man had garnered so much trouble for himself. He was also concerned for
Dinea, who would be very distressed if Branwilde pushed for an extreme sentence
for Daffyd.

He crossed the great
central courtyard, and made for the stairs that would take him to his own
apartments. As he started up he almost collided with a tall, well dressed young
man coming down the steps. The man looked at him, recognized who he was,
excused himself and hurried away. Bemused, Colin continued up the stairs trying
to put a name on him. By the top of the stairway he had identified him as one
of the Duke of Tuenth's sons, and as he reached his own suite of rooms he had
the name: Blaise.

Dinea had patiently
been waiting for him. As soon as he entered the room she glided towards him,
took him by the hand and pulled him to the couch before the large window. When
they were both seated, she raised her eyebrows in inquiry.

"I saw him,"
Colin began. "He's well, or at least as well as a man in his situation can
be. He has been very imprudent and getting him out of the pit he has dug for
himself will be difficult." He went on to tell her all that Daffyd had
disclosed to him. After he finished, Dinea sat quite still beside him, her brow
furrowed in thought.

"In order for us
to prove that Daffyd is not guilty of abduction or rape, I suppose the girl
must be interrogated However to do so exposes her to her father's wrath and
does not ameliorate their mutual actions of impropriety. He has certainly tied
a great knot for himself." She sounded discouraged.

"And we are left
to untangle it, I'm afraid. I suppose that I must go to Percamber now and ask
to play defender to Branwilde's accuser. We are going to have to insist that
the Lady Angharad submit to questioning. Her father won't like it, but it's
Daffyd's only hope of acquittal. I confess though, I don't relish drawing
Branwilde's anger."

Dinea smiled at him.
"Diplomacy is one of your strong suits, my dear. You do what you can and I
will ponder what to do with our miscreant after you gain his freedom."

He kissed her and rose
to leave. "I can tell you what I would like to do with him when he is
freed: box his ears!" He left with Dinea's laugh following him.

In the privacy of her
own chamber, the Duchess of Mirvanovir was decidedly less than happy with her
visitor. He was leaning against the doorjamb and surveying her with an
appreciative smile. She was not yet fully dressed. A voluminous robe of furs
was wrapped about her shoulders to fend off the morning chill and her hair,
lustrous with recent brushing, lay bright gold upon the dark brown of her robe.
Normally she would have welcomed the young man's attentions, but not here in
her rooms in Pentarin Palace, with her husband so close and gossip so ready.
She was impressed with his ability to gain entrance to her bedchamber so
stealthily, though it gave her pause to think that she was not so well guarded
as she believed. She privately admitted to a certain pleasurable excitement in
the danger of having him there, but she was not about to create a rift with
Niall just when all of their plans were beginning to be set into motion.

"This was a
dangerous and idiotic thing for you to do," she admonished in a quiet
voice.

"Dangerous?
Possibly. Idiotic? No, I don't think so," he stepped into the room, his
eyes warming. "Come now Rashara, admit that you are at least a little
happy to see me." He advanced on her.

"Blaise, you are
straining my patience. I have told you that nothing must be done to arouse
anyone's suspicions." Her voice was cold and she turned to retreat into
her inner bedchamber.

He followed her,
continuing to smile at her discomfiture. "No one saw me enter or will see
me leave. This council session has been damn boring and now I'm to be turned
out of your rooms? Have a heart, Rashara! You weren't so discouraging a few
months ago."

"A few months ago
I was at my own court, where I knew which ears were listening and which tongues
were wagging. Pentarin is too confined and there are far too many people here
who are not to be trusted," was the tart reply. "I told you that
contact here was to be limited, and you have not obliged me."

"Come now, I have
obliged you very well in the past, and will do so in the future, my lady."
He reached out to cup her chin in his hand and tilt her eyes up to meet his,
"but I am tired of cooling my heels to suit you and your husband. I want
my share!"

"And you will get
it." Her coal-dark eyes were beginning to kindle with anger. Regardless of
whatever personal satisfaction this young man held for her, if his restiveness
was going to become troublesome she had no qualms about employing extreme
measures. She said nothing but continued to look at him with annoyance.

His own eyes remained
unperturbed and undaunted as he let go her chin and lifted her hand to his
lips. "I shall try to be patient, for your sake."

"I hope so."
She left her hand in his for a moment, before she withdrew it. "Everything
is falling nicely into place; your time will come. The royal embassy leaves in
two weeks. You will return to Rengard with your family?"

His smile became
scornful. "Oh yes, I'll be going back with them. We leave at the end of
the week, when the council session is dismissed. My father tried to talk me
into joining the embassy so that I could become friendly with the Duchess of
Langstraad. He thought I could sing my brother's praises to the lady so that if
she was faced with returning empty-handed and choosing a husband my brother
would stand a better chance!"

Rashara smiled thinly
at this news. "Your father lacks subtlety. Wasn't he afraid that you would
might woo the lady for yourself?"

"My father is
under the curious notion that I exist solely as a tool to further his
interests. One day soon, I fear he will be much surprised."

"But if you did
not know of our plans, might you be inclined to try yourself for our red-haired
duchess, if she had a crown attached?" Rashara teased gently.

"You pose an
interesting question, but I’m afraid that it is completely academic, and school
was never my strong suit. No, I have given my heart to my own fair-haired
duchess, and she is far more desirable than any red-haired hoyden." With a
grin he stepped forward to embrace her.

She kept him at arm's
distance and sternly pointed to his exit. "A very pretty speech, but I
think, Lord Blaise, that you should leave now. When we meet again, there will
be time enough for intimacies." She gestured again to the door through
which he had entered. He took her extended hand and kissed it with a flourish
before leaving.

Alone again in her
room, Rashara almost regretted the necessity of sending him away so quickly.
She liked this young man more than she had any other in a very long time. But
passion was something that she had never let rule her head.

Because the case
against Daffyd ap Blewyns was a major one, involving a Great House outside its
own jurisdiction, Branwilde asked that Percamber himself sit as judge to his
own role as accuser. A closed court of three was to be assembled with judge,
accuser and defender the only participants. Colin had formally petitioned to be
allowed to argue in favour of his former retainer, and had been granted the
defender's position. He immediately sent word to Branwilde requesting that the
Lady Angharad be available for questioning, but received a brusque reply from
the duke stating that his wife and daughter were leaving for Gwenth within the
hour. He asked for a witnessed deposition from her before she left, but nothing
more was heard from the duke.