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away. They smiled at each other, each wreathed in secrets and unspoken truths. Eight Telmaine Telmaine s conscience twinged as Sylvide peered from the carriage, her flowerlike face creasing in worry as her sonn brushed Telmaine. Dearest, what is it? Your note was very strange. The ducal footman came forward to open the door, and Sylvide gathered her extravagant skirts to rise, but Telmaine forestalled her, hitching hers up to climb aboard. She had dressed plainly, in a style that would let her move as freely as possible. Let s go, she said to Sylvide. Anywhere. Her friend s expression was one of hurt bewilderment at her abruptness. Not clever, and made well aware of it by her brothers, Sylvide hated the sense of events moving too quickly for her to understand. Telmaine shuffled forward to take both her hands in her gloved ones, across the space between them. I m sorry. I had to get us moving while I explained. Explained what? Why did you have me bring a pistol? Why aren t you at your town home? What has happened to Balthasar? Where are your children? Amerdale is with Bal. Flori . . . Flori is part of the reason I asked you to come here. I need your help. Telmaine! Are you in trouble? A great deal of trouble, Telmaine said grimly. Until this moment I thought it was a good idea to . . . to use your coach. Now I am not sure. Could I have the pistol, please? Sylvide pulled the box from beneath her full skirts and handed it over. She nibbled on the index finger of her fine glove while Telmaine unboxed the pistol, checked that it was unloaded, and confirmed that she understood the loading and safety mechanism. She left it unloaded for the moment. It was designed for a lady s hand and taste, but the di Reuther holdings were still close enough to the Borders and the Shadowlands that even ladies weapons had heft to them. It also came with an ornate holster sash, another practical accommodation of the Borders, since a gun in a reticule or saddlebag could be more useless than no weapon at all. She settled the sash across her shoulder and laced the waistband, resting the weight of the gun on her hip. She would practice drawing it when she was indoors. She had once been a reasonably sporting shot, but the last time she had held a gun of any kind had been at a target competition just after her marriage one of the times she had unwittingly colluded in her family s humiliation of her husband, who had proven to be one of the worst marksmen she d ever met. She d felt Sylvide s tentative sonn rippling over her as she completed her preparations. Tellie, she said in a small voice, I don t understand. Telmaine drew a deep breath and put her head back. I m sorry I wasn t there to meet you at the town house. I . . . admit I forgot about inviting you. It was quite driven out of my head. You know that I accepted an invitation from Baron Strumheller to escort me to the city. Tellie, haven t you heard? Baron Strumheller has been arrested for murder and sorcery. Page 132 I know. I was there when it happened. You were there! How . . . ? Her suddenly appalled, guilty expression was enough to almost make Telmaine laugh. She said gently, So was Bal. Tellie, I never Sylvide said, her voice nearly a sob. Shh, it s all right. I m past being offended by any of the simple things. To begin at the beginning, when we the girls and I, and Baron Strumheller arrived at the doorstep, two men came out of the house. One of them picked up Florilinde and her voice thickened carried her away. We don t know where she is. Abduction! How horrible! But why? She had given some thought as to what to say to Sylvide and others she had to protect, for their lives, from the truth. Bal had treated a patient. They wanted information about that patient I think there was a great deal of . . . an inheritance riding on that information. He had refused to give it to them. They d nearly . . . they d beaten Bal unconscious: He s still in bed. They took Florilinde to force us, but we haven t even had . . . haven t even had a ransom note from them. She was not going to talk about Lysander Hearne s visit. Baron Strumheller was helping us find Florilinde when he was arrested. How horrible! Can t your family help? What about the public agents? What all has been done, I don t know; I m merely the mother. My brother-in-law, may he be blessed, had me speak to private inquiry agents this morning. I know Bal asked Mistress White Hand to find out what she could, and Baron Strumheller spoke to someone else, whom I will also visit. I hope they might have found out something and we ve just not heard. I m hoping that you can drive me at least to Bal s family home. I m going to start with Floria White Hand. Of course! Sylvide said. You poor dear. Telmaine I ll wait here, Sylvide said as the carriage drew up behind Ishmael s automobile, scattering three of the neighboring boys, who had been scrambling over it, crowding into the seat, pulling at the levers, and impersonating its noises. Telmaine relaxed slightly, and realized that she interpreted the children s presence as evidence of no danger. She reminded herself that danger could stay concealed. If it seems dangerous, she said to Sylvide, and you have to leave, then do. If you hear me shoot, go. If you hear me shouting, go. If anything . . . if anything strange happens, go . Tellie, Sylvide protested at such an ominous litany. You have to promise, Sylvide. I ve taken shameless advantage of you so far, and I ll never forgive myself if I ve brought you into danger. Sylvide s face set in mutiny, and she slid her hand under her skirts and brought out a second box, identical to the one she had given Telmaine. I know you think I m a feather-wit, Telmaine, but I ve lived Page 133 near the Borders. My coachman is armed, too. Telmaine opened her mouth, closed it. Sylvide said, We ll be in less danger if you get on with what you have to do. Her sweet, light voice trembled. Forceful sonn cast along the street to either side, as the baron had cast, outlined nothing to alarm her. She could not help realizing that his sonn had revealed a greater distance, far more crisply than hers, but his sonn had been refined in the Borders and Shadowlands. That made her think, fleetingly, of the landscape of her dreams, and she shuddered. The steps of Bal s home felt strange underfoot, almost as though she walked on ice and at any moment they would shatter underfoot, or tip and slide her over their edge. She had had no idea, when she scrambled from the ducal side door into the carriage, that this evening was so intensely cold . Or why she should be shaking so with fear that she had to brace one hand with her other to fit the key into the lock. It was absurd. The last time she had felt fear of this irrational intensity was . . . was in the garden. Where she had been drawn by the sound of a voice that was not her husband s, and where she had been [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |