Lady Trent (10 page)

Marcus wished now he would’ve somehow spared
the man’s life. He’d likely had all the answers needed. The emperor
had eventually tired of his parables and rhymes. He’d refused to
speak plainly and identify anyone in particular, even to death.
Honestly, Marcus hadn’t really taken the man seriously, just as the
emperor had not upon hearing of it. They’d suspected him of
prolonging the sentence of his original crime, scheming in order to
save his neck from the gallows. He had, after all, refused to
mention anything exactly and probably never would’ve. He’d been
given a space of one unsuccessful month to offer the information
prior his execution. An exact month after that, an actual attempt
had been made on Jacob’s life during a hunting expedition.

Fortunately, Marcus had previously planted
spies and guards at every angle, distancing them from Jacob so as
he would not notice them. These were men he had hired and who were
trained for such duties as this. The attempt had been successfully
thwarted all thanks to his secret spies, messengers and guards. But
those who would have carried out the deed would not express the
name of whoever was behind it. Even under torture and to death they
held their peace.

Marcus had together with the emperor and a
dozen of trustworthy men working for hire in regards to the
situation eliminated several names from the list of prospective
suspects; simple enemies, distant relatives, people who had reason
to hate him…even down to a distant female cousin who bore a
very
deep hatred for him, and did not care to express it.
Marcus had not truly completely eliminated her. She was no longer a
citizen of New Ebony, but of Roark whose king bore a strong dislike
not only for Jacob, but the emperor as well.

Jacob hadn’t a clue, and would not if Marcus
could help it. Even the emperor agreed it best he didn’t know. Not
now. After all, Jacob would not be one to stand idle. He would
interfere and possibly make matters worse.

Marcus felt guilty from time to time. If
someone was out to take his own life, would he not want to be made
aware of it? Just the same, it could do more harm than good.
Hopefully, maybe one, two or all of the three detainees in Rowan
would have some answers. They’d been caught passing messages to one
another, and then meeting in a village outside of Rowan to
accomplish some mission against a noble whom was not mentioned. It
was suspected they were a part of the plot, although the duke of
Rowan insisted they’d planned to do away with him and nobody else,
an act of revenge for some unmentioned incident from years back.
Upon questioning, they’d supposedly denied this, but admitted to
conspiring against another although under the instructions of
someone else…someone whose name they refused to give. This was not
an uncommon occurrence these days. Marcus meditated. It seemed
Jacob was lucky to be alive.

But it would be a while before these men
could actually be transferred. He wanted to stay in Rowan a while
and do some questioning of his own. But the emperor had already
ordered against it. Sometimes Marcus disagreed with the man’s
assessments. This was one of those times. Also a time he would
likely go against the emperor’s orders and suffer his consequences
if perchance it was made known he’d done so. Not that the emperor
would be harsh. He appreciated him too much to inflict any severe
punishment upon him.

Aside from this situation, he’d planned to
visit for a time, just for the sake of doing so. The duke of Rowan
was a good friend of his and had hired him on several occasions to
settle legal matters between himself and his siblings. Thanks to
him, the matters had been resolved although he had to admit not
entirely in the siblings’ favor. Yes, sometimes he just had to
accomplish whatever was asked of him simply for high pay, favor,
for the sake of his web of acquaintances which when weaved together
made things work out perfectly not only for his own benefit but the
benefit of New Ebony as a whole; which had been an utmost concern
of his since the age of fifteen. Yes, he had earned the favor
bestowed upon him, and his pay, which was often very hefty. These
things combined would one day make him a noble, indeed, a rich one,
highly esteemed and respected. Such was the desire of any average
man. For some it was unattainable, for others, possible…but
ignorance had yet to put any man in any high position. Inheritance
caused many a man to succeed. Of course the emperor was well able
to remove any incompetent man from his position. He was a wise
ruler, but at times Marcus wished he would allow him to have the
final say-so in particular cases, such as this questioning of the
three in the custody of Duke Rowan.

Riding along, he set his eyes upon some
mountains off in the distance. As the ownership of land would put a
sense of pride inside a man, it did him as well at the moment. The
mountain was several hundred acres and promising. Very, very
promising…nobody had a clue.

He couldn’t even count the amount of land he
owned by now, land that could someday be valuable not only as
cities and towns and villages, but other things which he had set
his mind upon also beginning many, many years ago…after the
previous king of Roark had nearly succeeded in overthrowing the
emperor and taking New Ebony as his own.

For the time being, thousands of acreage
prescribed to him laid desolate except for an occasional village
that sprang up here and there. He had hired men to oversee such
matters, but it was almost useless trying to keep people from
settling where they may live free of rents. Such communities
usually receded on their own due to lack of necessity. Nonetheless,
he assumed one day he would use some of the land to establish
places of his own: villages, cities, manors, a castle or even a
palace. For now, he was delighted to do what he’d been doing since
the age of fifteen.

Hard to believe all that time had passed. So
much had happened. A small exploit had turned into something
bigger, and that into something even more enormous. He was content
seeing to the affairs of the nobles and getting paid well to do it.
Peace had to be kept amongst them. Few had risen up against the
emperor over the years…their plots were successfully thwarted, and
their titles taken from them. Some of these were imprisoned, some
put to death—all depending upon the nature of their schemes.

He did keep his own hired men busy, occupied
with procedures that few were ever aware of…only those he trusted
and, yes, those few were even more than he’d imagined it would ever
come to.

“How long will we be there?” Byron asked
along the way. It was almost dark and soon they would set up camp
for the night. The nearest town was yet hours away and he just
assumed stop and sleep beneath the stars.

“Two, three nights at the most. We’ll need a
space of time to visit Earl Rutherford as well… before the
wedding,” he added.

The wedding. He was happy for his friend.
Very happy. But felt disturbed whenever he considered or observed
Rachel the Elder. By any fault of her own? He could not see. What
exactly was it troubling him so?

Perhaps because he found her to be so very
appealing. But what man would not? She was probably the loveliest
woman he’d ever set eyes upon…striking, he reasoned, without
knowing so, meaning to be so or wanting to be.

He thought of Patrice. Beautiful. Smart, She
lived directly outside Rowan and operated a harem, which he
occasionally frequented…just to see her. They’d been acquainted for
ten or so years. She was very well able to satisfy his manly
desires. But in comparison…well, there was none. Rachel was pure
and simply beautiful on the inside and the outside. She was
provocative and did not even know it. She was pure, and Jacob was a
lucky man—a lucky man, indeed.

And happy as he had a right to be. So much
misfortune had tainted most of his life. Ah, the change in the man
overall. It was amazing how he had shifted for the better following
the death of his son. Little Jacob…they all missed the lad. Marcus,
himself, had become attached to the boy, taking time out to answer
the hundreds of questions the curious mind a son of a man like
Jacob Trent could come up with. Jacob had properly instructed him
even under the condition of his very harsh attitude. How he’d loved
the boy! Yes, before little Jacob’s death the man had been
ruthless, impossible, and hadn’t seemed to give a damn about anyone
or anything besides the raising of a strong child, his own fortune
and matters pertaining to the emperor’s realm. Marcus had tolerated
him, perhaps better than anyone else could’ve considering the
amount of time he’d had to spend in his presence and under his
orders for hire—by his own choice, of course. But Jacob had been
more to him than a means to make money or an alliance or one who
could benefit him thru the benefit of some other noble.

Jacob was also the emperor’s most favorite
noble. For the most part, he’d proven himself faithful and well
able to keep the emperor’s position intact. No army could match any
in comparison to Jacob’s when it came to potential wars between
nobles in New Ebony and especially threats from rulers overseas.
Had it not been for Jacob, the emperor’s position would have been
taken by the king of Roark many years ago. He’d claimed the right
to rule New Ebony, said it had been stolen from him. In some
distant way the two men were related. But the emperor had every
right to his position. Jacob had swiftly rounded up an army,
invaded Roark and brought back not only the heads of that king’s
two most powerful nobles, his uncle and chief general, but of the
king as well. The position King of Roark was then passed on to the
brother, and no country had since then so much as raised their
voice in a letter of opposition to the emperor.

But now it was not the emperor’s life on the
line, but Jacob’s. And neither he nor the emperor would back down
until the guilty party was discovered, stopped and put to death.
Then they could tell Jacob. Then. He anticipated the day.

CHAPTER SIX

The idea of taking lessons to learn more
about, practice and perfect her ‘noble’ skills was not exactly a
pleasant one. Percival was the one to bring the proposition to her.
He was quite convincing, claiming she could use something to do
while Jacob was busy or away other than sewing, reading or going
for simple walks.

“I think I am doing well enough.” She placed
firm hands on her hips. “Whose idea was this, anyway?”

Percival looked at the floor as if in shame.
“Mine, milady.”

“Does he agree to this?”

“I did not mention it to Lord Trent. It was
merely an idea that I thought to bring to your attention…not that
you fall short in your abilities, milady. I only thought you would
be interested in learning more and perfecting your skills…and also
learning more about the behaviors of those around you and what they
mean.”

“You are very convincing, Percival.” She
walked over to a table and shuffled thru some books. She took one
out from the pile and turned, holding it up for him to see. “This
book explains everything I need to know.”

His eyes lit up and he walked toward her.
“Ah, an excellent source for learning the behaviors of the noble
class.” He took the book for himself, flipping thru its pages. “And
you discovered this in the library? Who would’ve thought? There are
so many books.”

“I only discovered it after setting out to
organize the books. If you visited the library you would find the
shelves much more organized, and the books lined up according to
subject. So, you see, I have discovered ways on my own to occupy my
time. With such a valuable collection, you would think someone
would take the time to organize it properly. One thing I have
learned, the things people in Westerly would cherish with all their
heart are the very things people here take terribly for
granted.”

“Well,” he began, handing the book back to
her. “I suppose we should see about finding someone to fill that
position. Nonetheless,” he turned, preparing to make an exit, “I
shall tell Sister Camille that you are in no need of further
instruction.”

“Sister Camille?” she repeated, and set the
book down. “Percival, you mentioned nothing about Sister
Camille.”

He had stopped and turned back around to face
her. “I did not think it would make a difference.”

“Well, it certainly does. You may tell Sister
Camille that I accept her offer for tutoring, and that I very much
appreciate it.”

He grinned tiredly. “Very well, I shall tell
her.”

Their first reunion was a very happy one.
Camille embraced her, smiling brightly and cheerfully laughing. “I
was so delighted when I heard of your engagement to be wed. It came
as a surprise to me. You see, it was assumed Lord Trent would be
wed to Roselle of Lyndinburg, the earl of Lyndinburg’s daughter.
But when you descended the steps that morning and I beheld
you…well, Lord Trent, I knew, would behold you just the same, and
with the addition of being a man. Then I spoke with Father
Nelson—briefly, mind you.” She almost whispered, “He explained it
all to me: The letter. Jacob’s reaction to it then and now. I am so
very happy for him and for you. It must have been fate that brought
you together.”

She had thought so herself, but did not
mention it.

She and Camille began meeting so ever often
in the week. Rachel would ride into Harp and spend nearly the
entire day there. Not that they only focused upon noble etiquette.
They also spent a great deal of time simply talking and sharing a
laugh about this or that. But she did learn things that she hadn’t
read about or heard or thought of, such as the proper way to accept
a glass of wine, how to bow the head so ever slightly when greeting
a Lesser Nobles, toward the left only. It was only proper to bow
the head toward the right when greeting a Higher Noble.