Page 31 of The Knight's Pledge
“He can split a reed with a dagger attwenty yards?”
“Twenty-five, actually.”
“He can kill a man with his bare hands and notleave a mark.”
“Quite true.”
“The same Roger Cholmeley who also drinks ale from a nut bowl and is hungover until sunset every day?”
“That Roger Cholmeley.” Effie gave the man a moment. “He was away on business for the hold when his daughter went missing. His wife was found dead in their home. Roger was sought for the crime, but our man was already tracking his daughter. He found her, but was ambushed by the villains while trying to free her. They killed her in front of him and then left him there to die. But hewas found by—”
“By the king’s men,” Lucan finished. “I know the horrible story well. Roger Cholmeley killed every man but one that day, and it was that last officer who ended the man’s life, going over the side of a bridge with him into the Tees. Roger Cholmeley drowned as the current carried him and Archimbault away.”
Effie shook her head. “No.”
“Archimbault broke both of his legs in the fall. He’s still considered a hero—a monster killer. He’s made his life’slabor from it.”
“Archimbault’s a coward and a liar. He jumped over the side of the bridge willingly, that’s true, but it was to escape Chumley.”
Lucan Montague turned and looked over the rolling, moon-sparkled water, obviously deep in thought. “It’s very hard to believe, you must understand.”
“Whether you believe it or not is your own choice,” Effie said mildly. “But I thought you should know, in preparation for the day your mouth runs away with your big head again, leaving your arse behind. He’d surely kill you, and then I’d have to find somewhere to bury your body and that’s more than I have time for, currently.”
He turned his head to look at her with his lips parted in disbelief. And then he laughed.
Effie tried to suppress her answering smile. “I say we leave the satchelat the Warren.”
“In the protection of wanted criminals?” Lucan’s mouth quirked. “Perhaps not the best idea for ensuring the posterity of the information.”
Effie sighed. “Thenwhat say you?”
“I hesitate to put forth an opinion at the risk of undermining your authority, and then forcing you to procure a surreptitious gravesite.”
“Lucan…”
Lucan held up a palm. “Alright. Regardless of Iris’s caution, I think we have no recourse but to take it with us.”
He had surprised her again. “I agree. There will be more careful eyes on it.”
“Many more, if the conversation in the solar is any indication.”
Effie ignored the comment. “I would trust any one of the family with George’s life. If they know that the bag is to be guarded, guarded it shall be.”
Lucan nodded. “I’ve no choice but to take you at your word. Very well. We shall depart at first light then. I bid you good night.”
“Lucan, wait,”she called out.
He stopped and turned halfway toward her, waiting.
“You’vemet my father.”
He paused. “I have.”
Effie swallowed. “What’s he like?”
“He is very much like Padraig,” Lucan said mildly. “Or Padraig is very much like him, I suppose.”
“He’s old now.”
