AllFreeNovel
Share Us
To her surprise he led her to a different room. This one had a comfortable couch which he motioned for her to take. He brought her ale and some apples and cheese. Greedily she fell upon the food while Cavendish sat watching her, his fingertips pressed together. When the plate was bare, he began questioning her again.
“Now tell me everything from the start of last week. Do not leave anything out. I will know if you are lying. I need to hear the whole story from you.”
It took over an hour to relate all the relevant events up until the moment when McCrae and Moll burst into Corvacho’s room. “The rest you already know,” she said.
Cavendish stood up and stretched. She flopped back on the couch. If he did not let her go home soon, she would fall asleep on the spot.
“There is one thing I do not understand. Why did you throw the knife and not draw him in and simply stab him?”
“I had seen him fight. I knew I could not get close enough. He had a rapier and a long dagger to my single small blade.”
“It was a huge risk to throw the knife at him. What if you missed?”
“I admit I have not done it for quite some time, but he was close enough I was confident I could hit him. I knew he would not be expecting it.”
“Show me.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Show me how you threw the knife. Here, take my dirk. Will that do? Aim at the door.”
“I do not think that is well advised. If the wood is old and well-seasoned, the knife can bounce back in an unpredictable fashion.”
Cavendish handed her his knife, paying no heed to her warning, and indicated the point where she should aim.
“How far should I stand back?” she asked.
“The same distance that was between you and Corvacho.” After estimating the distance she stepped closer to the door. She assessed the weight and balance of the dirk in her hand and went through a few practice motions without releasing the handle. When she was satisfied she had the feel of the knife, she stood with her left foot in front, sighted the line then quickly drew the knife back and threw it at the door. Her first throw rebounded, and she caught the hilt and pushed it aside.
“Did you just catch it?”
“Not a full catch. I parried it away. I thought it might bounce back, being hard wood and at such close range, as I warned you. Shall I have another try?”
Cavendish nodded his assent but moved further back out of the way. Lucinda took aim again and this time the throw stuck, the dirk landing with a thud.
“Well I never,” Cavendish said, for the second time that day. He wriggled the knife to dislodge it, running his fingers over the wood where it had penetrated. “Remarkable.”
“May I sit down again? I am very tired.”
“You will stay here the night while I decide what to do with you. I have arranged for a room to be made up and sent a message to your father that you are safe. As far as I am concerned you are still an agent acting for me. I may have a use for a woman with your skills in the future after all. Your talents are quite extraordinary.” Cavendish loomed over her from behind the chair, so close she could land a vicious blow he would long remember, an impulse that was definitely tempting but also suicidal. “I shall keep you as a spy, but you cannot go around making investigations on your own. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly. What will happen to Corvacho? Everything I said about him is true.”
“The truth is not our concern. He is part of a diplomatic emissary. It will be up to the Spanish to decide. He might be in our country, but he is not subject to English law.”
She sank into the couch, her body leaden, as bruised by what she had just been told as if she had been punched. She could not believe it was true. After all the work they had done to find him, the danger she had placed herself in, Corvacho would not be brought to justice. He would get away with his crimes for the sake of diplomacy and politics. She squeezed her eyes closed and clenched her fists, thoughts flying to Rosalind and Mary and Maud and Lizzie and all the other women who deserved better. How could she face them knowing the rapist would go free?
She had never, ever, known the weight of such crushing failure. She blinked the tears away that formed at the edges of her eyes. She would not let Cavendish see her crying. If he knew how much she cared, he would use it for leverage or advantage. A man like Cavendish always found a weakness to exploit. As if he was reading her thoughts, he made a point of flexing his power.
“Naturally you are bound to secrecy,” he said. “You are not to mention any of this to anyone, ever. Not your family. Not any of the alleged victims. Not any of those women you play at swords with. You see I know all about your little gatherings. You look surprised? You should not be. There is nothing that happens in London that I do not know about, nothing that occurs unless I permit it. You will find I am a quite a generous man and can extend a certain amount of tolerance; however if you continue to interfere in affairs of state, or disclose official secrets in any way, then both my tolerance and patience would swiftly run out, a situation that would not be to you or any of your friends’ benefit.”
So this was the price she had to pay, a price as exorbitant as it was chilling. Cavendish stared at her with his ice blue eyes, tapping his index fingers as he watched her expectantly. If he expected capitulation, she would not give it. If he expected obedience, he was sorely misinformed.
“I am prepared to be silent on the matter of Corvacho, but only if you leave me, my friends and my family in peace. I will also have to tell my family something, especially if you intend to drag me away from my duties.”
“You are not in any position to negotiate. You threw a knife at a Spaniard sent to this country to negotiate terms of peace. That is not a position of strength. Your silence is a given. It is my silence that should concern you far more. Your father, for one, would be thrown out of the Masters of Defense if word got out that he allowed a band of women to learn sword craft on his premises. What you must consider carefully is how to keep me satisfied in the future. I am prepared to leave your friends and family in peace, but I cannot afford to let you go.” A shudder ran down her back as his icy gaze travelled over her. “Your particular talents are very rare to find in a woman.” He ran his hand down the side of her face. “And a beauty as well. I can see why my nephew is so taken with you. Pity I can never allow this foolish idea of a courtship to progress any further. I have other, grander plans for you. There will be no negotiation. You will do exactly as I say. Understood?”
She stared back at him, mutiny in her eyes and hatred in her belly. “Perfectly,” she said. “Pray what do I tell my family then? I am still unclear on the matter. It is impossible to keep a secret from my grandmother. She will know merely by looking at me that something is changed.”
