Isabella’s heart chilled at these threats against Amaury. At least he was away from this place and too distant for Mallory to see him injured.
Mallory caught her chin and his voice hardened. “I ask again: where is the seal?”
“I do not know.” Isabella recoiled when his eyes flashed. “I entrusted it to my lord husband but where he placed it, I cannot say.”
“Montvieux then,” Mallory mused as he released her. Isabella wondered what he schemed. It was clear he had a plan of some kind and she doubted she would like it.
“Edmund, you must join us at the board,” Mallory said then with unexpected joviality. “It seems most fitting to celebrate this day, after all.”
Faydide looked between the two men in obvious confusion. “Fitting?” she demanded. “Because the keep will be attacked at any moment, so we must dine as if naught were amiss?” Her voice rose with the words, prompting Mallory to chuckle.
“You have so little faith, sister mine,” he said. “We have made preparations all the night long to vanquish that army. As soon as they move closer, their fates will be sealed.”
Isabella glanced out the windows, taking closer note of the activities in the bailey. Some substance was being heated in large cauldrons, and even now a foul smoke rose into the air.
“And so we should dine, as if all is well?” Faydide said, acid in her tone.
“Of course. I have ordered a repast worthy of kings for this day of days, the better to see us fortified.” Mallory was curiously confident, a detail that troubled Isabella deeply.
“I accept your generous invitation, my lord Mallory.” Edmund simpered as he eased closer, looking as untrustworthy as only he could. “I could sit by my lady Isabella,” he suggested slyly. “That we might share a trencher.”
There was a gleam in his eyes that Isabella did not trust in the least. If the arrangements were thus, she would not eat at all.
Edmund chuckled. “I see the lady prefers your attentions, Mallory. I will sit with your sister, then, and perhaps hope to savor her charms in the near future. She has need of a new husband, does she not?”
Mallory chuckled at this prospect but the lady in question could not hide her revulsion.
“You?” Faydide said with scorn. “Why should I welcome you? A mere clerk, perhaps one in my husband’s confidence, but a man well beneath my station. I am the daughter of the Duke of Sancerre, after all.”
“But not a young woman,” Edmund said softly and Faydide’s expression hardened. “Perhaps you are right and I should offer my attentions to Marguerite de Haniers, as young and alluring a maiden as might be found.”
“You aspire beyond your place!” Faydide said with scorn.
“I might claim her hand first, Edmund,” Mallory jested and they laughed together.
There was some detail here that Isabella did not know, some fact that would explain their manner completely.
“You have no right to wed, Mallory, for you possess neither holding nor fortune,” Faydide said with disdain.
He lifted the hand with the signet ring. “Are you certain, sister mine?”
Faydide frowned. “But you cannot claim my husband’s legacy so readily as that, Mallory. You are not of the blood of Marnis. Isabella, for all her shortcomings, has that advantage at least, and indeed, she is the last surviving member of that family. You should wed her, if Marnis is your goal.”
“And yet there is the complication of the husband she will not foreswear,” Mallory said, tut-tutting beneath his breath. “Fear not, Faydide, all will be resolved before the sun sets again, and resolved in our favor. Come! Let us eat!” He offered his hand to his sister, who glanced between the two men with a suspicion Isabella shared, then accepted her brother’s arm.
Isabella declined Edmund’s assistance and followed him down the stairs, not wanting to be pushed from behind. It seemed she had not paid sufficient attention to this clerk and his secrets, though now she very much wished to know more.
It wasafter dawn when Amaury hauled himself over the sill of Marnis’ solar. It had not been easy to find purchase on the roof once he was on the palisade, and he had cast his hook many times before succeeding. The angle was too tight and he had to hide often from sentries and guards.
This was the same window he had used to depart from Marnis mere days before, but the sight that greeted him was unfamiliar.
A man’s garments were cast across the floor. The trunks had been opened and their contents cast in corners. Some garments were torn and the mattress of the great bed had been shredded. He noted that a place on the wall was evidently a hiddencupboard, for its doors were open now. The only thing within it was a smashed trunk of smaller size, one graced with the fleur-de-lis of Montvieux. Once it had held his father’s coins, but now it was empty.
Evidently, that discovery had vexed someone.
He was moving it back into place, as if he had never touched it, when he saw the wooden box. It was shallow and carved from young wood, unornamented, the kind of container that one might use for trinkets or sweets. Amaury took it and opened it, catching his breath when he saw the interior. The box was divided in two, each side lined with a thin piece of cloth. One side was empty, while the other held several rows of irregularly shaped confections. He sniffed and smelled the sweetness of honey, along with another deeper scent, then set the box aside with a shiver.
Someone had retrieved this token from Montvieux, after his father had eaten all of his favored treats and one of the poisoned ones. That it was here, in the treasury of Gaultier de Marnis, told Amaury that Isabella’s father must have at least known of the crime.