Page 33 of Lord of Fortune
Septon was exceptionally tall, and his hair, of which he had plenty, was entirely gray. His eyes were also gray, but a darker, flintier color than those of Lady Stratton. “What can I get you to drink, Mrs. Forrest? Madeira, sherry, whiskey, something else?” he offered pleasantly.
“Sherry, please.”
Lady Stratton patted the settee beside her. “Do come and sit.”
Amelia glanced at Penn, who nodded almost imperceptibly, before taking a place on the settee.
Penn went to the sideboard where Septon was pouring drinks. A moment later he delivered a glass of sherry to Amelia, then took up a position behind a chair opposite their settee, a glass of whiskey cradled in his hand.
After giving Lady Stratton a sherry, Septon took a chair angled near the settee and sipped his own glass of whiskey. He looked over at Penn. “What were you able to find in my private library?”
The ownership in his tone was unmistakable, and Amelia suffered a pang of doubt at being there.
“Allow me to start at the beginning,” Penn said.
“Yes, do,” Lady Stratton said. “But would you mind sitting so I don’t have to strain my neck?” She smiled sweetly.
Penn came around the chair and sat down. He took a drink of whiskey. “I found the dagger, but it was stolen from me”—he glanced at Amelia—“us—and we want to recover it.”
She noticed he said nothing about wanting to prove the heart in the museum was a fake. Why would he keep that from Septon?
“There were four thieves—three were obviously hired brigands, but one was a well-spoken gentleman. I wondered if he is a member of the Order.”
Septon’s brows arched briefly. “You want to know if I’m aware of the theft. Or behind it.” His tone carried a hint of dispassion. “I’m aware you don’t like the Order or our mission, but we aren’t common thieves.”
A loud bark of a laugh escaped Penn’s mouth. “Tell that to my parents, who were accosted by the Order when one of them sought to steal the decoding glass. Though it was more than twenty years ago, I’m sure you remember it.”
Septon’s nostrils flared. “Your point is valid. At least it was. After that unfortunate incident, we’ve changed our procedure.”
Amelia leaned toward Septon. “Are you saying it wasn’t the Order who stole my grandfather’s dagger?”
“It wasn’t the Order, but neither is it your ‘grandfather’s dagger,’ my dear.” He gave her a smile that bordered on patronizing, but she refused to let it bother her. “The dagger is an historical artifact. It belongs to history.”
Penn snorted, drawing Amelia’s attention. “How convenient for you to say that, and yet the Order seeks to ‘protect’ the Thirteen Treasures from the public. I would argue that does nothing to preserve history and everything to bury it.”
“Yes, I’m aware of your opinion on the matter, and we must accept that we disagree. Rest assured that the Order had nothing to do with the theft of the dagger.” He frowned. “This is most concerning.”
Amelia would agree. She’d been concerned about the Order, particularly given the note her grandfather made in his journal, but if it wasn’t them… “If it wasn’t the Order, who could it have been? Who else would even know about the dagger, let alone where it was located? It’s not a famous treasure. It’s only ever mentioned in the story of Ranulf and Hilaria.”
“That’s correct,” Septon said. “The only people who would even think to look for the dagger would be people familiar with the Thirteen Treasures and the dagger’s place in their lore.”
“Most—if not all—of those people are members of the Order,” Penn said sternly.
Septon gave him a scolding look. “You aren’t.”
Penn pressed his lips together but said nothing.
Septon turned to Amelia. “I know it must be distressing to lose this artifact that your grandfather had found. I wish I could tell you that it could be easily recovered, but tracking it down will be most difficult. I fear it may have been taken by the Camelot group.” He sent a dark look toward Penn, whose lips moved in an inaudible curse.
Amelia looked between the two men. “What is the Camelot group?”
“A rogue faction inside the Order,” Penn answered before Septon could. “They’re made up of only descendants of the knights. They hate having people like Septon in the Order, and they hate hiding the treasures. They’d rather put them to use.”
She blinked at both men. “Do they have a specific use in mind?”
“Not that we’re aware of,” Septon said. “Theyarea dangerous group, however. Led by a dangerous man—Timothy Foliot.” The baron sipped his whiskey before turning his steely stare on Penn. “I’d wager some very valuable pieces in my collection that he’s behind the theft of the dagger.”
“Which means it will be difficult to regain, but not impossible. Cate was able to recover Dyrnwyn.”
