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Reynard entered the room. “You know who this is, Cecil?” he asked, nodding to Henry, close behind him.

Cecil bowed his head at Lord Henry and spoke in French with a strong English accent, “Aye, sir, I do.”

“Lord Henry would hear what you have to say. Tell him again what you told me.”

Cecil gave another jerky bow, but the eyes he raised to Henry were clear and honest. “I were in the storeroom where the wine is kept, me lord. I were counting how many barrels were left, for the steward. He and Lady Jenova were taking a tally of them, before the beginning of the Lent fast.”

“Yes, go on.”

“I were down on the floor, because it looked like one of they barrels had sprung a leak, and I had to get down to see. Then I heard steps passing me by, hurrying steps, two pair. And I heard voices, soft voices. I thought, ‘Now who could that be? There’s no one supposed to be down here but me.’ So I got up and looked, and I could just see the back of them, through the barrels like. Her and him.”

“Tell us, man, for God’s sake!”

He took a deep breath. “’Twere Lady Agetha, my lord, and she had Master Raf with her. I heard him say he were tired or some such thing and she were telling him to hurry on and be quick about it. Something like that. Then they were gone, out through the other storeroom, and I heard no more. I thought it were odd but it isn’t my place to question the ways of my betters.”

Reynard thanked him and handed him a coin, which Cecil examined carefully before he placed it in the cloth purse attached to his belt. When he had gone, Henry stared at Reynard in bemusement.

“Agetha? Where was she taking him? Have the storerooms been searched?”

“At least three times. But I have learned something more, my lord. There is a secret door in one of the rooms there, and a tunnel beneath the castle wall. It is known to only a few, which is why Cecil does not know of it. It takes you out of the castle and down to the river. I looked for myself, and found footsteps that could belong to a child in the mud along the bank. And there is a small boat, pulled up into the marshes. A boat big enough to hold a woman and a child.”

Henry nodded as if he understood, but his head felt as if it was going to burst. Agetha had taken Raf. Taken him…where? Possibilities swirled around him, threatening to drown him. He took a breath and forced calm upon himself. Jenova was relying upon his cool head, and for her sake, as well as Raf’s, he dared not let his fears overwhelm him.

“I see. She took him in the boat. But she is back here now, Reynard. Where did she go? And where is Raf now? It makes no sense—”

“But it does,” Reynard replied grimly. “You know that Lady Rhona said that Jean-Paul claimed to have a friend at Gunlinghorn. Someone close to the family. What if he has made use of that connection?”

“Agetha?” Henry whispered. “But why take Raf? What can he want with a child?”

“Lady Jenova’s child. For whose safe return she would do anything.”

Anything? Even marry Baldessare? And Henry would be unable to stop her—how could he stop her? A boy he loved, too. A boy that he himself would do anything to save….

“Jesu,” he groaned and put his head in his hands.

“I have put a guard on the Lady Agetha’s door, my lord.”

Henry’s mind was blank. Henry, who had always been good in a crisis, to whom the king looked for clear thinking, was beyond thought. Was this his fault? After all, it was he who Jean-Paul hated, he who Jean-Paul wanted to suffer. If it had not been for Henry, then Raf would still be here, safe in his mother’s arms. Jenova, too, would be safe, and not under threat from Baldessare. But how could Henry have known, all those years ago, when he’d risen from the ashes, that it would mean disaster for those he loved?

“Is Lady Jenova still in her solar?” he asked.

“Aye, my lord.”

“Then take Agetha there. We will question her together.”

Reynard went to do his bidding, leaving Henry alone in the guardroom. The candle spluttered, and the silence crushed him. He thought of Raf’s brilliant smile and green eyes, he remembered the conversations they had had, and the times he had taken him up upon Lamb. And Henry knew that if he had to batter down the doors of Baldessare’s keep himself, if he had to raze it to the ground, he would save Raf. He would do whatever he had to do.

Jenova, seated on a stool by the brazier, looked up in surprise when first Henry, then Agetha, and then Reynard, entered the room. Agetha appeared pale and sullen, and no wonder, for Henry had an ungentle grip on her arm. The girl tried to shake him off, but he held her firm.

“Henry? What is happening?”

“My lady,” Henry said formally, and pushed the unwilling Agetha forward, until she was standing before her mistress. “I have some news for you. We have learned that Raf left the castle with Agetha.”

“With…with Agetha?” Jenova stared at him, then shifted her gaze to the other woman. Agetha quailed a little under the look in her mistress’s eyes and said nothing. But Jenova read the truth in the girl’s bowed head and stooped shoulders, and she knew a burst of rage such as she had never felt before. This woman, who had professed to be her friend, had taken her child. If Jenova had had a dagger, she would have killed her.

“Where is he?”

Agetha shook her head.

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