Page 76 of The Swindler’s Daughter

Rowan’s jaw shook as well but he seemed to wrap himself in both dignity and humility when he explained. “Your Grace. In that sitting room, you will find the magistrate and two of his constables bound and tied to chairs.”

Shock ran across the duke’s face.

“We poached to feed the families who could not feed themselves. We stole back the items that the magistrate and his men had stolen from others so that we could return them to their rightful owners. We—” He wavered, taking in a shaky breath through his nose, then continued. “We broke into the house of the magistrate and stole the hoard of coins and goods that he and his men had demanded from the villagers as taxes and payment for protection.” Rowan paused, his chest heaving as he took shallow breaths, terror written in his eyes.

The duke’s eyes narrowed. Rowan had said it, admitted it all. There was no going back now. Our fate was sealed.

Rowan continued. “When the magistrate and his men found us here, they attacked, we defended ourselves, got the upper hand and managed to lock them in there. We were trying to decide how to proceed when you arrived, Your Grace.” His lips pinched and his eyes were wide with fear.

An overwhelming silence settled over the group. I could hear myself blink. There it was, all the truth, laid bare before us. A group of servants had become thieves, poachers, and trespassers, and we were now facing not just the law but the sovereign duke—the ruler of our nation. My knees trembled so badly that I could barely stay upright.

“Well,” the duke finally said. “My shock is profound.” He nodded at the admission and his expression tightened. “I am furious. There will be punishment. But firstly, I am perplexed. Why was word not sent to me?” A hard edge cut through his words.

The promise of punishment left me mute, but somehow John was able to lift a shoulder in a shrug and answer. “We can’t write, Your Grace. And the magistrate and constables were careful to target only the lowest of us.” John looked defeated, like he’d given up entirely.

“And what about you?” the duke asked me. “Are you a servant elsewhere?”

I nodded.

“Your master and mistress? Do they know of these circumstances?”

I opened my mouth, trying to answer, but no sound escaped my lips.

The duke gave an impatient wave of his hand. “You need not fear to answer me. Please. I wish to know.”

His words baffled me. He had just declared his own fury and promised punishment, yet he looked at me now with a measure of compassion and understanding.

“Surely your master can write,” he prompted. “Did he know of these circumstances?”

I shook my head and swallowed. “No, Your Grace,” I managed to say, though my words were stilted. “I am employed by Sir James Sutton and his wife, Princess Marilee. They are away in Dalthia, spending the autumn with her family. You see, it wasn’t until they were gone that Magistrate Reeve started to put extra taxes in place.”

His eyes narrowed. “And you believe that timing was deliberate?”

I breathed deep through my nose then forced my lips to form the words. “I think the entire village knows that Her Highness has an oddly close relationship with her staff and that such mistreatment would have been confronted by her and her husband directly.”

A scoff sounded. My gaze was drawn to the regal woman that stood just behind the duke’s shoulder. The Duchess of Winberg’s lip was curled in disgust. “Pitiful that that woman should garner our subjects’ loyalty.” She turned her head to look behind her. “Edmund!”

The man who must be Edmund stepped forward. “Mother?” he asked, curiosity infusing his words.

“At the end of our visit, you will remain here,” Her Grace proclaimed.

Lord Edmund Rockwell rocked back and blinked in surprise, as did the tall beauty whose side he had left. His wife, perhaps?

“I beg your pardon?” Lord Rockwell said.

“You will remain here at Bridgefield,” Her Grace said again, her tone crisp and broaching no argument. “It’s time the people around here remember the goodness of their rulers instead of fawning over the foreign princess who betrayed your brother.” Her bitter words were in deep contrast to her husband’s calm demeanor. “You will remain here, take charge of this household, and show the people of Murrwood that the Rockwells rule with dignity and with the good of the people in mind.”

Edmund continued to stand a little behind his mother, so she did not see his reaction, but I did. It was angry, surprised, and annoyed. But after a few moments, he settled his face into a neutral expression and simply nodded. “Of course, Mother.”

The beauty who must be his wife said nothing but continued to stand there, wide-eyed.

The duchess squared her shoulders and sniffed. “This village is a disgrace. A pitiful—”

“That’s enough, my dear,” the duke interrupted her ranting.

“But—”

“I said that’s enough!” It was the first truly impatient thing he’d said, and it was directed at his duchess. “These boys—these men—and this young lady did what we did not. They saw what we did not. They fixed what we did not.”