The Third Son (27 page)

“That’s not true!” Adare pleaded, trying to reason with him. His decision to send the boy away had not been made lightly, but his parents had demanded it, and so had Alexandra. She refused to raise a child that was not her own. “I wanted to keep you, but my father was still king and I was powerless to go against his wishes. I loved your mother deeply, and would have made her my wife if I’d had the choice.”

The young man looked taken aback for a moment, his eyes clouded by uncertainty. He shook his head to clear his mind of such thoughts.

“You are a liar!” he roared, giving Adare a mighty shake before dropping him back against his many pillows. “You cared nothing for
her
, though she pined for you every day for the rest of her life. She died a slow death, because she lost the will to live after you tossed her aside. Because of your abandonment, a little piece of her died with each passing day until she was no more than an empty, hollow shell. Even on her deathbed, she called out your name.”

Adare squeezed his eyes shut against the pain that he had caused. He felt certain, now that he had heard of his beloved’s tragic death, that he deserved what was happening to him now. “I did not toss
her
aside. I arranged a marriage and a comfortable life for her. I wanted you to have the best of everything, even if I could not have been the one to give it to you. I’m sorry if my decision brought you pain. I only wanted to give you as much as I could.”

“Crumbs, swept from your table, the same as you would give a dog. And you would have Lionus inherit the throne when
you
and that whore you married have known all the time that he is not truly the firstborn son.”

. 

“Contrary to your belief, I always loved you,” Adare whispered, as he watched his son turn and
head for the balcony. “I
watched you from afar, proud of you always, knowing that you were the child of my heart, the child I’d created with the woman I loved.”

The masked slipped back into place, he turned to face Adare one last time, a smile twisting his features as Adare’s last breath left his body. He disappeared into the night, his mind already working on his plan of attack against his half-brothers.

Chapter 16

Damien smiled down at Esmeralda, holding her close by his side as they waited for his carriage to be readied. He could hardly believe his luck. It had taken him only one afternoon to make the arrangements for them to elope. Morning had come and now they stood, hours away from being husband and wife. Esmeralda was lovely in a white sprigged muslin gown. Yellow ribbons adorned her upswept hair, and the square-cut, yellow topaz ring glittered on her finger in the brightness of the sun. Damien cupped her chin gently with his hand and lifted her face upward for a light kiss.

“You make a beautiful bride, Esmeralda,” he murmured as he moved his lips over hers in a feather-light caress. “I can hardly believe my good fortune.”

Esmeralda nuzzled his nose affectionately and smiled. “And you make a very handsome bridegroom.”

He stood, watching the sun cast its rays over her face, illuminating the golden depths of her eyes. His euphoria was so great as he stood there, gazing at his bride, that at first he did not hear the devastating cries that intruded upon their silent moment. He tore his gaze away from Esmeralda, his eyes widening as he noticed Jarvis walking briskly toward them.

“Your Grace!” he called, as he came nearer. He was out of breath, and tiny beads of sweat had broken out along his forehead. “Your Grace, you must come at once!”

Damien’s heart plummeted into his stomach. His grip on Esmeralda’s arm tightened unconsciously. There could be only one reason why the usually stoic butler had come searching for Damien himself, and at a near run at that. “It’s my father, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice hoarse. Jarvis nodded slowly, reaching out to clutch Damien’s shoulder.

“I know that you are to be married today, but your
family
need
s
you.” 

Damien needed no convincing. He turned to Esmeralda. “I’m sorry, love. It seems we won’t be getting married today.” 

Esmeralda smiled her understanding, her eyes filled with unshed tears at the pain she found on Damien’s face. “Would you like me to come with you?”

Damien nodded and grasped her hand tightly, leading her toward the palace. “Has Lionus been sent for?” he asked Jarvis as they neared the king’s chambers.

“Yes, Your Grace, word was sent immediately.”

The doors to Adare’s chambers were swung open to admit them. Serge, Nicolai, and Alexandra all stood at the foot of Adare’s bed, looking down at his lifeless body. Damien’s knees buckled and he held Esmeralda close for support as he walked slowly forward. His body had obviously been cleaned and he lay among the bedclothes, his face more peaceful in death than it had been during the last few months of his life.

Damien paused at the foot of the bed, unable to come any closer.
G
rief well
ed
up at the back of his throat, threatening to cut off his air supply. He breathed deeply and forced it back down.
Damien
would not lose control in front of his family. He would weep for his father in private.

“When?” he managed, his voice a strangled sound.

“I found him dead this morning,” said Jarvis. “I suppose he died sometime during the night.”

Alexandra sniffed quietly and dabbed at her red eyes with a handkerchief, her back ramrod straight, quiet and composed. Damien wondered at the little display of emotion. He knew there was no love lost between his parents, but more than thirty years had surely created at least affection and respect between the two. Alexandra lowered her head as the tears began anew, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed gently.

“Oh, Adare!” she cried, burying her face in her handkerchief. Her sobs tugged gently at Damien’s heart until he could bear it no longer and reached out to comfort her. At the touch of his hand on her shoulder, she cringed and pulled away violently, her blue eyes filled with annoyance. “Don’t!” she spat, pulling away from Damien’s comforting touch. She turned to Jarvis. “Notify me the moment Lionus arrives.”

As she walked away, Damien felt the familiar twinge of pain he had felt as a boy when he’d first realized how much closer Lionus was to their mother’s heart than he. Serge stared after her, his face twisted in agony. “Selfish bitch,” he muttered as she made her exit. He swiped his hand across his tear-filled eyes. “She gave birth to three sons, but has love enough for only one.”

Nicolai wrapped his arms around Serge’s shoulders. “You were fortunate enough to have the love of your father,” he said in comfort, his own eyes red-rimmed and misty. “Some men never experience even that much.”

“There is something else,” Jarvis said, eyeing them nervously. “I was waiting for Her Majesty to leave before I mentioned it.”

“What is it Jarvis?”

“I do not believe His Majesty died naturally,” he said, his voice a near whisper. “I believe that our masked man has finally succeeded.”

“What could possibly give you that idea?” asked Nicolai.

“He was fine yesterday,” Jarvis said. “He asked me to wheel his chair through the gardens in the afternoon so that he could enjoy the fine weather. He was happy and strong, stronger than he has been in weeks. The physicians had come just a few hours earlier and said that he could live another year at best. He was doing well.”

Damien observed his father’s body and frowned. “But there seem to be no signs. He has not been shot or stabbed, for there is no blood. There are no marks around his neck, so he was not strangled.”

“I was not thinking that he was killed violently, Your Grace.”

“Poison!” Serge gasped. “But that is impossible! All of the servants who handled father’s meals have been here for years. They are all trusted. Who would do such a thing?”

“I do not know,” said Jarvis with a sigh. “Perhaps I made a mistake in my choosing. I am to blame for His Majesty’s death.”

“No!” said Damien fiercely, unable to believe what he was hearing. “You have been a loyal friend and a trusted member of this household longer than I can remember. You acted in father’s best interest; we all did. If what you’re saying to true then no one is to blame. It would seem the masked man found a way to reach him.”

“What other proof is there that Adare was murdered?” asked Nicolai, incredulously studying the seemingly peaceful corpse. “He was sick for a very long time. Perhaps the doctors were wrong about the amount of time he had left to live.”

Jarvis shook his head adamantly. “When I found him, there was a significant amount of blood on one of his handkerchiefs. There was some also on his face and his nightclothes. I studied him for wounds but found none.”

“So you suspect he coughed up the blood last night?” Esmeralda spoke up. “Was this something that happened often?”   

Damien shook his head. “No. That was not one of the symptoms of his illness.”

“Something happened,” said Serge. “I know it’s possible that father merely succumbed to his illness, but all of the signs here point to murder.”

“What do we do now?” asked Nicolai. “Surely we are all still in danger.”

“We’ll wait for Lionus,” said Damien decisively. “After all, he is now king.”

Esmeralda’s eyes met Damien’s silently. They were filled with sorrow. Neither of them would voice what they both knew the other was thinking. Though Adare had just died and it was selfish of them both, they felt misery in their hearts over another matter entirely. If Lionus was now king, they would never be able to marry.

****

Lionus drummed his fingers on the surface of his desk impatiently, watching the double doors of his library intently. Damien, Serge and Nicolai sat in chairs on either side of him, watching the doors as well.

Lionus had arrived the day following Adare’s death from one of his country estates. He had planned to spend a few days there with Isabelle before boarding a ship to Italy, but news of his father’s death had reached him first.
Lionus
had ordered Jarvis to bring all of the servants who had had access to Adare for questioning. He believed wholeheartedly, just as Jarvis had, that Adare had been murdered. 

Damien studied his brother’s profile, unable to decipher any trace of emotion. He stared straight ahead, his eyes cold and hard, his mouth drawn down into a frown. Alexandra had been delighted to see her son of course and had cried his shoulder for a full hour upon his arrival. They had left her with Isabelle to tend to the pressing business of finding their father’s murderer.

“There can be only one explanation,” Lionus had said before ordering the servants brought before him. “There were only a select few allowed to attend father. One of them must be the culprit. We must find out who it is before we all find ourselves poisoned.”

Damien agreed. He had been too grieved to eat anything, but even if he allowed himself to succumb to the hunger gnawing at his insides, he knew he would be too paranoid to eat.

There was a great commotion in the hall before the doors swung open to admit Jarvis. He held the arm of a chambermaid tightly, pulling her roughly alongside him. Two armed sentries escorted him. The girl fought Jarvis with all her might, but the old butler was surprisingly strong.

“You may as well stop fighting girl,” he commanded, shaking her roughly. “There is nowhere for you to run.”

“Jarvis, what is the meaning of this?” snapped Lionus impatiently. “Where are the other servants?” 

“Your Highness.” Lionus winced visibly at the new form of address but did not interrupt the butler. “This woman almost boarded a ship headed for God-knows-where. She was in a great hurry and was carrying a rather large sum of money on her person.”

”Lillian?” Damien gasped, recognizing the little blonde maid he had once admired.

Jarvis nodded. “I suspect her as being our culprit and found it unnecessary to involve the other servants. She was the one who brought your father his evening meal.”

Lionus’ eyes narrowed on the trembling girl. Her dress was torn at the shoulder and her face was streaked with tears.
Lillian’s
hair was a tangled mess around her head. Jarvis released her arm and she fell to her knees before them.

“What have you to say in your defense?” Lionus asked, his voice deceptively calm. Damien could sense the tension laced through his tone. Lillian was silent, keeping her head lowered.

“Speak, girl!” Jarvis commanded, looking as if he would like to strike out at the maid. Adare had not just been his master; he had also been a close and faithful friend. Jarvis would hear the truth from the girl or beat it out of her himself.

Lillian lifted her wide blue eyes and pleaded, “Please! I will tell you everything you want to know if you would but promise to spare me long enough for me to give birth to my unborn child!”

For the first time, Damien noticed that the girl was at least six months pregnant. She clutched her swollen belly protectively.

“If you have done this horrible thing, then you have no right to ask promises of me,” Lionus said scathingly.  

“I would have your promise!” she cried, clutching her stomach more tightly. “I merely want to give my babe a chance to live! My parents would take her and then you may punish me as you please!”