Page 41 of A Treason of Thorns

“Go on then.” Frey gives me a look and jerks her head toward the stairs. “I’ll take care of these gentlefolk tonight.”

Falmouth’s footmen are already arranging things in one of the private rooms upstairs. They start like frightened rabbits when I enter the room.

“It’s not him, it’s just me,” I say.

One of them takes the coat and I carry on to Alfred and Esperanza’s room. Alfred’s abandoned the dice players and is inside already, looking peaked and sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.

“What the hell is going on?” I ask. “Who’s Falmouth to Esperanza? Who are you to Esperanza, for that matter? Why did you run off like that, and what are you doing up here?”

“I’m nobly hiding,” Alfred says. “Falmouth is Espie’s fiancé. They’ve been engaged for years, ever since her fifteenth birthday. As for what I am, I think she’d better tell you that herself. I’ll take those papers, though.”

I hand them over and head back downstairs, rolling my eyes as I go. Nobility and their entanglements. It’s like a Gothic novel in the West Country these days, between Burleigh and the princess and her assorted lovers.

At least I’m awake now.

Frey positively hovers over Esperanza and Falmouth for the rest of the evening, leaving me to man the counter and listen to John Howard’s litany of wrongs done unto him. It’s past midnight by the time Falmouth retreats to the private gaming room and Espie goes slowly up the stairs.

“Can I take five minutes?” I ask Frey as she joins me.

She eyes the common room, which is starting to empty out. “Yes, but be quick about it. I’ve got tables for you to clear up.”

I slip up the stairs in Esperanza’s wake and knock softly at her door.

“Come in,” she says, her voice muffled.

Espie’s lying on her side on the bed, her head on Alfred’s lap, butwhen I shut the door behind me, she sits up and wipes at her eyes with the back of one hand.

“Hello, Violet.”

“Should I go?” I ask. “I just wanted to make sure you’re alright, not to intrude.”

“No, it’s fine. And thank you.”

“So,” I begin, a little awkwardly. “You’re engaged to Lord Falmouth?”

Esperanza rolls her eyes. “I am, in a manner of speaking.”

“Your father seems to like forcing girls into unwanted marriages,” I say. “Are we the only ones he’s tried it with, or does he do it often?”

This time, Esperanza pulls a face. “He’s always matchmaking. He likes controlling people—we’re just game pieces to him.”

“You’ll find a way out of it, though, won’t you?” I ask, shifting my weight anxiously from one foot to the other. “That Falmouth, he’s...”

“An absolute brute,” Esperanza says. “The fact that he’s here to keep an eye on things will be nothing but trouble for you and Burleigh House, Vi. I’m going to see if I can convince him that Burleigh Halt’s too much of a backwater for him to stay more than a night. At least if he lodges in Taunton, you’ll have a little space. And God forbid he find out anything about Alfred. That conversation’s meant to happen in public, in front of my father, not out here with no witnesses, or it’ll be pistols at dawn and widow’s weeds for me.”

I open my mouth and shut it. “I’m sorry, did you say widow’s weeds?”

“I did.” Esperanza beams. “Alfie’s my trump card. We were married in secret last year at Spanish court, in front of several unassailably credible witnesses. At first it was just convenience for me—Alfie said he’d do it, and that I could divorce him once I’m queen if I liked. But then I started to like him. He’s just so decent, you know? Now I quite worship the ground he walks on.”

Esperanza kisses the tip of Alfred’s nose, and he goes bright red, rather flustered by his flamboyant, affectionate bride.

“I adored her from the start, of course,” Alfred admits. “But we both decided it would be best to keep this quiet and let Falmouth continue to believe she’ll marry him. No one’s more in the king’s confidence, and Espie hopes to get information out of him, about the deeds.”

Looking at the two of them sitting tucked together on the bed, I decide all at once that it’s time to lay my suspicions to rest.

“So you’re working on Falmouth, and have contacts at court, and Alfred’s looking into the history of the Houses to see if he can find anything useful there?” I ask.

“Exactly so. Pass me that box of chocolate creams?” Esperanza points to a gold foil box on the chifforobe. I hand it to her and she pops one into her mouth.