him.
“So sorry to interrupt. Your day off, I take it?” Orlando asked gently
“Yes, sir,” the lad mumbled.
“Then I don’t suppose you know what happened this morning.”
“Sir? No, sir.”
Orlando stared at him for a moment, tempted to sink his knife into the youth’s stomach where they stood. Instead, he clasped him by the back of the neck and walked him toward the stairs, his pace companionable, his grip relentless.
“His Majesty has sailed away on a leisure voyage to Spain, my lad. I would like to point out that you are not among his galley crew. This upsets me, Cris.”
His brown eyes flew open wide. “I didn’t know, sir! I didn’t know! Oh, God, sir! Was there no warning? How are we going to—”
“Shut up,” he snarled.
Behind his freckles, Cristoforo’s face paled. Indeed, Orlando thought, the boy knew the danger of crossing him or failing him in any way.
“No, His Majesty gave no warning of his plans.” Mollified, Orlando flicked a piece of lint off his black sleeve. “Fortunately, I have arrived at an alternative solution.”
“Thank God!” the boy exhaled in relief. “It’s not my fault, sir, how can I help? What would you have me do? Sir, I’ll do anything, just don’t—”
“Walk down the steps before I throw you down them,” he softly interrupted.
The lad gulped and obeyed. At the bottom, he turned and stared at Orlando. “Sir, y-you’re not going to hurt Carmen, are you?”
Orlando smiled. “That’s up to you, Cris. Are you ready to help me? Do you think you can avoid another blunder?”
“Y-yes, Your Grace,” he croaked in a whisper.
“Good. Then let’s start rehearsing exactly what you’re going to say when the time comes for you to tell the prime minister how Prince Rafael has been paying you to poison King Lazar.”
CHAPTER
FIVE
Flaming torchères lined the long drive as the curricle drawn by two prancing white horses joined the queue of carriages waiting to deposit guests before the fancifully carved pink-marble entrance of Rafael’s pleasure dome. Oohs and aahs slipped from Dani’s lips as she stared at the peacocks marching with tails unfurled and the albino deer grazing on the park lawn. Then she gazed up, wide-eyed, at the fanciful striped Moorish spires and the bronze cupola, gold against the starry indigo sky.
Straight out of the Arabian nights, it looked like a magic castle all made out of candy, she thought in wonder. Already she could hear the orchestra’s lively music pouring out from every arabesque window, could feel the thrumming excitement in the air.
There were jugglers on the lawn, jesters in motley with bells on their tripointed caps. The night hung like blue velvet around her under a jeweled vault of diamond stars, and the sea breeze blew balmy against her face after the day’s heat.
She looked everywhere eagerly, unable to help the tingling frisson of pure girlish anticipation that bubbled through her. It was difficult to keep her mind on the seriousness of her mission here tonight.
Earlier in the day, after leaving the jail, she had ridden back home to try to come up with an appropriate means of transportation to the ball. To solve this problem, she had “borrowed” Count Bulbati’s fancy curricle and matched horses. Her neighbor never went out at night; she hoped he wouldn’t notice they were missing. Then she had gone home to retrieve the one gown she owned that might pass for a ball gown.
Her tiny bodice was of light blue silk. From the high waist fell an overskirt that parted in the front to reveal a white petticoat beneath, which was embroidered with pink flowers below the knee. She was fairly sure her gown was a few years past fashion, but it was nearly fine enough, and besides, the long fitted sleeves covered her lightly bandaged right arm, while the petticoat was long enough to completely conceal the fact that beneath the gown, she was dressed for hard action down to her spurs.
Once she
“So sorry to interrupt. Your day off, I take it?” Orlando asked gently
“Yes, sir,” the lad mumbled.
“Then I don’t suppose you know what happened this morning.”
“Sir? No, sir.”
Orlando stared at him for a moment, tempted to sink his knife into the youth’s stomach where they stood. Instead, he clasped him by the back of the neck and walked him toward the stairs, his pace companionable, his grip relentless.
“His Majesty has sailed away on a leisure voyage to Spain, my lad. I would like to point out that you are not among his galley crew. This upsets me, Cris.”
His brown eyes flew open wide. “I didn’t know, sir! I didn’t know! Oh, God, sir! Was there no warning? How are we going to—”
“Shut up,” he snarled.
Behind his freckles, Cristoforo’s face paled. Indeed, Orlando thought, the boy knew the danger of crossing him or failing him in any way.
“No, His Majesty gave no warning of his plans.” Mollified, Orlando flicked a piece of lint off his black sleeve. “Fortunately, I have arrived at an alternative solution.”
“Thank God!” the boy exhaled in relief. “It’s not my fault, sir, how can I help? What would you have me do? Sir, I’ll do anything, just don’t—”
“Walk down the steps before I throw you down them,” he softly interrupted.
The lad gulped and obeyed. At the bottom, he turned and stared at Orlando. “Sir, y-you’re not going to hurt Carmen, are you?”
Orlando smiled. “That’s up to you, Cris. Are you ready to help me? Do you think you can avoid another blunder?”
“Y-yes, Your Grace,” he croaked in a whisper.
“Good. Then let’s start rehearsing exactly what you’re going to say when the time comes for you to tell the prime minister how Prince Rafael has been paying you to poison King Lazar.”
CHAPTER
FIVE
Flaming torchères lined the long drive as the curricle drawn by two prancing white horses joined the queue of carriages waiting to deposit guests before the fancifully carved pink-marble entrance of Rafael’s pleasure dome. Oohs and aahs slipped from Dani’s lips as she stared at the peacocks marching with tails unfurled and the albino deer grazing on the park lawn. Then she gazed up, wide-eyed, at the fanciful striped Moorish spires and the bronze cupola, gold against the starry indigo sky.
Straight out of the Arabian nights, it looked like a magic castle all made out of candy, she thought in wonder. Already she could hear the orchestra’s lively music pouring out from every arabesque window, could feel the thrumming excitement in the air.
There were jugglers on the lawn, jesters in motley with bells on their tripointed caps. The night hung like blue velvet around her under a jeweled vault of diamond stars, and the sea breeze blew balmy against her face after the day’s heat.
She looked everywhere eagerly, unable to help the tingling frisson of pure girlish anticipation that bubbled through her. It was difficult to keep her mind on the seriousness of her mission here tonight.
Earlier in the day, after leaving the jail, she had ridden back home to try to come up with an appropriate means of transportation to the ball. To solve this problem, she had “borrowed” Count Bulbati’s fancy curricle and matched horses. Her neighbor never went out at night; she hoped he wouldn’t notice they were missing. Then she had gone home to retrieve the one gown she owned that might pass for a ball gown.
Her tiny bodice was of light blue silk. From the high waist fell an overskirt that parted in the front to reveal a white petticoat beneath, which was embroidered with pink flowers below the knee. She was fairly sure her gown was a few years past fashion, but it was nearly fine enough, and besides, the long fitted sleeves covered her lightly bandaged right arm, while the petticoat was long enough to completely conceal the fact that beneath the gown, she was dressed for hard action down to her spurs.
Once she
Similar Books
