1
There was nothing more Rosa Rolfe wanted, in this moment, than to throw a book at Lord Kaspar Sippola’s handsome, smiling face.
A good fat hardbound book, she thought firmly, as she gave a low curtsey, her blonde head bowing. An encyclopedic tome, perhaps. Something like theAnnals of the Realm, full of pomp and blather andlies, just like Lord Kaspar himself.
“A very good afternoon to you too, my lord,” Rosa said instead, forcing the smile to her mouth, the smoothness to her voice. “And to your esteemed guest, as well. Welcome to the Dusbury Library, ma’am.”
She had to drag her eyes to the lovely, well-dressed woman who stood at Lord Kaspar’s side, clinging to his arm with an easy, entitled familiarity. She was wearing the latest in high fashion, her taffeta day dress cut close to her ample curves, her shiny brown hair piled intricately atop her well-shaped head. And her replying glance toward Rosa was distant, and then increasingly disapproving, as though Rosa were a piece of offal stuck to her delicate, pointy-heeled shoe.
“Indeed,” the woman said, clutching her manicured hand tighter against Lord Kaspar’s arm. “Does it alwayssmelllike this, Kaspar darling?”
Her disdainful gaze swept across the library, as if to condemn all its failings in one fell swoop, and Rosa felt her own back go rigid, her smile almost painful on her face. The Dusbury Library was a true little treasure, comprising an eclectic, highly valuable collection, and the building itself was cramped but welcoming, with tables and chairs scattered about, and large windows studded along the walls. There was nothing else like it in all of Sakkin Province, perhaps in the entire realm, and howdarethis grand lady behave as though it were a vermin-infestedhovel.
But Lord Kaspar only gave a loud, hearty laugh, and a cheerful response that Rosa couldn’t hear through the rising, clanging ringing in her ears. And when he guided the lovely lady toward the tall stacks, clearly intending to give her the full tour, it was all Rosa could do to hold herself in place behind the lending desk. Especially when — her whole body twitched — Lord Kaspar turned his head, and shot her a swift, surreptitious wink over the fine lady’s shoulder. Hinting, maybe, at just last night, when he’d hiked up Rosa’s dress, bent her over this very desk, and…
Rosa’s cheeks were furiously heating, but she somehow kept the painful smile plastered to her face until the happy couple was fully out of sight. Until she could finally sag her badly trembling body against the desk, scrubbing her face with her hands, and gulping back deep, dragging breaths.
The bastard. The complete and utterbastard.
But curse her, Rosa hadknownthis was coming, hadn’t she? Lord Kaspar was only the second son of Bairia Province’s vaunted Duke Warmisham, so despite his lordly title, he was lacking any proper estates, and the associated income. And instead, he’d set himself up here, in Sakkin Province, as one of Dusbury University’s most prestigious gentlemen scholars, and as Grand Patron of the Dusbury Library.
All of which meant, of course, that Lord Kaspar was perpetually in need of funds — and thus, naturally, on the hunt for a rich wife. And the rumours that had been swirling for weeks had clearly been all too true, and this lovely woman had to be none other than Lady Scall, the recent widow of one of the wealthiest men in the realm. And a clever woman, they said, with many advantageous connections, to boot.
“Who’s thegirl?” came Lady Scall’s high, cultured voice, carrying easily over the stacks, loud enough to make Rosa wince. “The university hasn’t honestly hiredheras alibrarian?”
There was an instant’s hanging stillness, and then a too-light laugh from Lord Kaspar. “Oh, she’s only an assistant,” his cool voice said. “Helps Southall with fetching, and shelving, all that sort of thing. A charitable appointment.”
Rosa’s hands were gripping hard against the lending desk, the roaring rising again in her ears — but she leaned forward, and sucked back a silent, bracing lungful of air. She had to know. Shehadto.
“Quite well-dressed for a charitable appointment though, wouldn’t you say?” came Lady Scall’s reply. “That dress looked like Madam LeTourney’s work, to my eye.”
“Does it?” Lord Kaspar said, with creditable vagueness. “Perhaps it’s some kind of cast-off. Surely those charities are swarmed with old things.”
Lady Scall didn’t answer, but Rosa’s heart was truly hammering now, pounding desperately against her ribs. If Lady Scall was already suspicious — with good reason — what would come after, once Lord Kaspar proposed to her, once theymarried? Would Rosa be fired? Cast out? Kept away from her precious library,forever?
Her hands were sweaty and shaking, clutching uselessly at the desk, and she abruptly shoved herself out from behind it, grasping a handful of books from the nearest table. If her job was supposedly only shelving, then she would shelve. She would do anything.Anything.
Lord Kaspar’s grand tour went on for another full hour, and included a good stretch of conspicuous silence from the very back of the library. Clearly some kind of hanky-panky, no doubt an attempt to prove his desire for his fine new lady, and his utter disregard for his tarted-up assistant. And by the time Lord Kaspar finally ushered Lady Scall out the door, and then strode back to find Rosa still shelving in the stacks, she was so enraged that she could scarcely speak.
“My lord,” she said, through gritted teeth, as she thrust her books down onto the nearest table. “Did Lady Scall enjoy your tour?”
Lord Kaspar was looking distinctly ruffled, and he absently ran a hand through his wavy brown hair, giving Rosa a sheepish, indulgent smile. “Quite, I think,” he replied. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Rosa darling? Or perhaps” — his head tilted — “you’re afraid she’ll be jealous ofyou?”
Rosa couldn’t help a betraying wince, and in reply Lord Kaspar huffed a low, knowing laugh. “Don’t concern yourself, darling,” he said, as he came an easy step closer. “It’ll take more than a jealous wife to make me giveyouup, my clever little bookworm. Especially when” — he brought up an elegant, long-fingered hand to pat lightly against her cheek — “I have a new research project for you, love. Acrucialone.”
A crucial new research project? Rosa couldn’t deny the traitorous flare of interest that surged through her thoughts, and Lord Kaspar’s smile widened as he again patted her cheek. “I need you,” he said, “to find a way to finish off theorcs.”
The orcs. “Theorcs, my lord?” Rosa asked, frowning at his satisfied, expectant face. “The orcs with whom our province just signed an extensivepeace agreement? No aggression, no retaliation, from either party, under threat of severe and lasting consequences?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Lord Kaspar said, with a trace of impatience in his voice. “Thoseorcs, love. I’ve been tasked with finding a way around that damned new peace agreement, without getting our hands dirty, or spending any more of our limited resources. We need to wipe out those savage bastards once and for all, and actually becleverabout it this time.”
Rosa’s brain was already churning — who would have possibly given Lord Kaspar such an alarming task, maybe his duke father, maybe the realm’s powerful Council of Lords? — and despite herself, she felt her head give a quick, twitchy shake. “But for a project of that calibre, my lord,” she said, “you need actual lawyers. And military strategists, and the like. Not” — she took a breath — “me.”
But Lord Kaspar’s mouth had curved up into another cool, assessing smile. “On the contrary, darling,” he countered, “you’repreciselywhat I need. The legal and martial avenues have already been thoroughly investigated, and found currently —undesirable, at this point, and far too costly. What we need now is somethingnew. Weaknesses. Scandals. Shocking atrocities. Some surefire means of inciting the masses to march upon that damned Orc Mountain with pitchforks.”
Oh. So Lord Kaspar wanted to provoke apeasant rebellion, then. So he didn’t have to pay for his own damned war. And while Rosa held no particular fondness for orcs — by all accounts, they were wild, dangerous, brutal beasts, who stole away women in order to sire their huge, deadly sons upon them — this peace treaty between men and orcs had been signed only six short months ago. And the original signed agreement, complete with a lengthy, detailed endorsement by the well-respected Lord Otto, had been filed here, at the Dusbury Library.
Rosa had of course read it — in her nine years working here at the library, she’d read nearly every new tome and file that came in — and she’d found it surprising, and perhaps disconcerting, too. Claiming that the vicious, violent, warmongering orcs truly longed forpeace. With peasants, as well as lords. Withallhumans.
