Page 42 of Charmless
Florian blinked hard as though trying to hold back tears. I believed it to be the first genuine emotion I had ever seen in the man.
I pressed his hand gently. “It might bring the king comfort just to have you there. I realize it is hard, but if you do not spend time with him now, you will regret it. Believe me, I know. I often quarreled with my own father. When I wanted to tell him how sorry I was, it was too late. He died without ever hearing how much I loved him.”
Florian fell silent. I could not guess what he was thinking. At last, he said. “You are right, Ella. I shall be guided by your wise counsel and go to my father at once.”
The prince raised my hand to his lips. “Until tomorrow then, my beloved.”
As Florian strode away from me, I was aware of the bewilderment spreading through the crowd. Our conversation about the king had been too low to be overheard. No doubt that everyone watching us had surmised our intimate whispering to be romantic in nature. Our eager audience had probablyexpected to hear that the prince had prevailed and there would be an announcement of our forthcoming wedding.
There was a sense of disappointment in the air when the prince mounted his horse and rode away. As the crowd dispersed, I was aware of the annoyed and indignant looks being cast my way. I paid them little heed, too busy dealing with my own feelings, relief that Florian had left, astonishment that I had been able to persuade him to do so.
Once more the majordomo’s words came back to haunt me.You could be such a great influence upon Florian. Only think about it. All the good that you could do for this kingdom.
I still did not want to believe that was true. It would only make me feel guilty for not marrying the prince.
Eight
By the time I was able to return to Quad Hall, Horatio and his unfortunate young captive were nowhere in sight. I had no idea how prisoners were processed. I assumed there must be some sort of official documentation required.
But perhaps all Horatio needed to do was unlock a cell and fling Tom inside. I found it painful to imagine Horatio treating a child so harshly.
Crushington is the king’s loyal henchmen through and through and you are a fool if you ever let yourself believe otherwise.Mal’s warning resurfaced in my mind.
I banished that disturbing thought as I directed my footsteps toward the garrison headquarters and the local gaol. Happily, up until this point in my life, I had never had any personal acquaintance with this grim facility. But like most Midtown citizens, I was all too aware of the massive iron doorway that led to the cells.
No guards were posted because the door could not be opened from the outside. Anyone needing admittance had to summon the warder by tugging on a heavy bell rope.
I approached the forbidding portal, wiping my hands on my skirt. There is something about a gaol that causes even the mostinnocent person to sweat, especially in our kingdom where it was so easy to run afoul of the law.
I gave the rope a light tug. Annoyed by my own timidity, I yanked harder. I heard a loud peal resounding on the other side of the door. A moment later, a panel slid back. The face of a grizzled old Scutcheon glared at me through the grate.
“Who goes there?” he barked.
“Um… me. Ella Upton.” I sketched an awkward curtsy then felt foolish for doing so. “Are you the warder?”
“No, I am the sweet dreams wishing fairy. Of course, I am the warder, you silly girl. Master Sergeant Gravel. Now what do you want?”
“I have come to inquire about one of your prisoners.”
“Well, you can’t.”
“Why not? Is there some sort of protocol I need to follow?”
“You can’t because there’s no one here.”
“The boy would have been admitted a little while ago,” I insisted. “I saw Commander Crushington arrest him with my own eyes. The lad’s name is Tom Piper.”
“And I’m telling you there are no Toms here. No Dicks or Harrys either. Just me and the spiders. I’ve been a proud Scutcheon for nigh on fifty years, even fought in the Border Wars. Been the Master Warder of this gaol for the last decade and now how do I spend most of my time? Wielding a broom and sweeping out empty cells. Under our old commander?—”
“That will do, Master Sergeant,” Horatio’s stern voice cut him off.
Coming upon us so unexpectedly, the commander startled both me and Sergeant Gravel.
“Aye, Commander,” the old man muttered, but I could hear Gravel still grumbling as he closed the panel.
I turned to face Horatio and flinched when I saw his expression, his mouth set in a grim line, his eyes icy.
“Is there something I can help you with, Miss Upton?”
