Bluebeard and the Outlaw by Tara Grayce
Chapter 4
Was I playing with fire? Definitely. But I had no intention to stop until I had gotten just a little bit burned.
* * *
After taking a few minutes to plan, I left my room to wander—well, case—the castle in the time I had before the midday meal.
A guard was stationed outside my door, and he nodded to me as I exited my room. I ignored him as a proper lady would, though inside I was seething. The duke might claim that the guard outside my door was for my protection, but I knew the truth. That guard was there to keep an eye on me, something that was confirmed when he left his post to trail behind me.
I meandered through the maze of corridors and long galleries, complete with red carpet runner down the center, gold wall sconces, and rows of weapons hanging on the walls. Even if all I did was nick the sconces and the weapons, I could set up my merry band for a while.
I passed a few servants in the halls. Most glanced away as soon as they saw me and didn’t seem inclined to interact. It could be because I was the lady or it could be the duke’s watch dog trailing after me, ready to report every move the servants and I made.
Some of the servants were vaguely recognizable from the village. But I didn’t know any of them. Not really. The villagers and the castle dwellers kept to their separate lives, only crossing occasionally.
Despite the duke’s atrocities, the castle servants and soldiers had shown remarkable loyalty to him. Perhaps because their jobs depended on him even more than the villagers, who paid him rent and taxes for the land they worked but were otherwise left to make a living as they pleased.
Finally it was the time for the midday meal. I worked my way to the formal dining room and flung open the double doors.
Duke Guy already sat at the head of the long, oak table with Sheriff Reinhault at his right. A place had been set for me at the foot of the table.
Yes, it was the proper seat for the lady I was pretending to be. But, it was a ridiculous seating arrangement with only the three of us. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about it, though.
Duke Guy and Sheriff Reinhault pushed to their feet as I approached the foot of the table. Duke Guy graced me with a nod. “I trust your rest was refreshing.”
His tone was so distantly polite, as if he was greeting a guest instead of his new wife, that it grated on my daring streak.
“Yes, it was. I was so desperately weary after the trial of marrying you this morning.” I sauntered toward the table, not bothering to hide the bite in my voice.
As I reached what was supposed to be my seat, a footman dashed from his place along the wall and pulled out my chair for me. I halted for a moment, just staring at the chair. I’d never had my chair pulled out for me before. It was an odd feeling, letting someone else do something that I was perfectly capable of doing for myself.
But it did move the chair enough to make what I had in mind easier to pull off in a dress.
In one swift motion, I gathered up the flatware and plate, hopped onto the chair, and from there onto the tabletop. Ignoring all the eyebrows raising at my action, I marched down the center of the table. My dress might not have been a royal cape, but there was something powerful in the swish of a velvet dress.
The footman, the duke, and the sheriff stood frozen, just gaping at me—or as much as the duke ever gaped.
When I reached the far end, I had to lift my skirt to step around the platters of venison, vegetables, and fruit already laid out. Of course, I wasn’t going to step in them and waste perfectly good food.
I hooked the chair to the duke’s left with my toes and dragged it out from under the table enough that I could hop down, then plop into it. While the duke still stared at me, I laid out the plate and flatware once again. I wasn’t sure what all the forks and spoons were for, especially for something as simple as a midday meal, but the fancy folk here at the castle set store by such things.
Grabbing one of the forks by my plate, I speared a chunk of venison. “Don’t halt your discussion on my account. I’m sure whatever the duke and his sheriff discuss over dinner is fascinating.”
Duke Guy slid into his seat, casting a dark look at Sheriff Reinhault. If I didn’t know better, I’d say there was some tension there. “We were just discussing the weather.”
Sheriff Reinhault gave Duke Guy a sharp-edged smirk, before he turned a far more disarming smile on me. “I believe the weather is about to take a turn for the better. It feels like rain to me.”
“Oh, really? The rain is desperately needed.” I bit into the venison, eating it from the fork rather than putting it on my plate and cutting it properly. We often ate like that in the forest. Why wash plates when we could just eat right out of the pan?
Maybe I should keep up more of a pretense of proper behavior, but I was in the mood to tweak the duke just enough to get him annoyed, now that I was securely married to him.
Since the sheriff seemed more inclined to speak with me than the cold-eyed duke, I faced Sheriff Reinhault across the table. “How can you tell it’s going to rain? Do you have an old wound that aches? A bum knee?”
“Just a feeling.” Sheriff Reinhault sprawled back in his chair, a hint of a smile playing around his mouth. While the duke was all dark and brooding—dark eyes, black hair, glowering expression—Sheriff Reinhault was all sunny blond hair tied back, sky blue eyes, and easy smiles, as shown by the deep smile lines around his mouth and eyes.
“Hope it turns out to be more than just a feeling.” I stuffed the rest of the venison in my mouth and studied the silent interplay between the sheriff and the duke. The duke was glaring at the sheriff, almost as if he didn’t want the rain.
But, perhaps, he didn’t. This was the infamous Duke Guy “Bluebeard.” He enjoyed the subjugation of his people, and it was far easier to keep them in misery when they were barely scraping by as it was.
I claimed an apple and crunched into it, causing the duke to start.
Duke Guy set down his flatware and pushed away from the table. “Reinhault, gather the men. I wish to search the faerie circles again this afternoon.”
I refused to stiffen. The duke planned to search the forest for the Hood. Our hideout was well hidden and Alan, Will, Marion, and Munch would still be with the duke’s men as they were escorted from the dukedom. But John and Tuck would be close to the castle, keeping an eye on me. I didn’t like the thought of them facing Duke Guy without me there.
Besides, I hadn’t gotten married to Duke Guy to get shunted off to the side. I had to spend time with him to mine his secrets.
I jumped to my feet and wrapped my hand around his arm. It was strange, holding the crook of his arm like this, feeling the strength of his well-muscled sword arm beneath my fingers. It was a strength he would wield against me, if he ever caught me as the Hood. “Aren’t you going to give me a proper tour of the castle? We were married this morning, after all. I would like to see my new home.”
A tour was something he should have done, rather than just dump me off at my room earlier in the day as if I was a piece of luggage.
His shoulders lifted in a sigh as he swung his gaze to the ceiling for a moment. “Reinhault, proceed without me. It seems I will be showing the castle to my new wife.”
Sheriff Reinhault’s smirk was back as he stood, bowed, and strode from the room.
When the sheriff was gone, Duke Guy rested his heavy gaze on me, not speaking, just staring.
I was not the type to give him a winsome smile, and there was no way I would ever manage innocent pleading. Instead, I set off, tugging him along before he fell into step with my quick pace.
Thankfully, the guard didn’t follow us, and my shoulder blades stopped itching with that feeling of eyes upon me.
Duke Guy likely wouldn’t show me his treasure vaults on this tour. But I would learn just as much by noting where he didn’t show me. It would narrow down where in the castle I would have to search later.
Besides, the better I learned the castle here in the daylight, the easier it would be to navigate in the dark.
For long moments, we strode down one of the imposing, armor-lined galleries in an oppressive silence. As we reached the end of the gallery, Duke Guy opened his mouth, paused, then closed it again.
I supposed he wouldn’t have much to say to the wife he was plotting to murder.
That meant it was up to me to carry the conversation.
As we stepped from one armor gallery to a portrait gallery, I gazed about as if in awe of the grandeur. It wasn’t that much of a stretch. I was in awe—and trying to figure out what I could steal that could be quietly resold. “This is quite different from Loxsley.”
“I suppose it is.” Duke Guy’s murmur was deep and rumbling inside his chest. “I have never had the pleasure of visiting.”
Perfect. That would make my lies easier to maintain. I would still want to be vague, in case someone who really was from Loxsley happened to travel through before I carried out my heist.
“Perhaps we can visit someday soon. I do so miss my family.” That was the expected thing to say, right?
Duke Guy raised an eyebrow at me. “I thought you were so desperate to leave your family home that you were willing to marry me.”
Ah, right. The fictitious evil sister-in-law. I truly hoped none of my real sisters-in-law—if my brothers ever retired from thievery long enough to get married—didn’t end up as stereotypically malicious as this fake sister-in-law of mine. “Well, I do have to return home and rub this place in my sister-in-law’s face. On second thought, perhaps I should invite my family to visit here first before we make any trips there.”
“Hmm.” It was a noncommittal sound with a hint of disapproval. As if he didn’t like my attitude toward this non-existent relative.
He was one to judge. He had murdered three wives. A little fake rivalry on my part was hardly something to earn me that dark judgment in his gaze.
As we talked and walked, we passed doors to several rooms. The library. The study, of which I made particular note. It would be a good place to snoop through later.
At the end of the hall, we stepped into the base of one of the towers. The inside of this room had been plastered white, and magical creatures from the Fae Realm had been stuffed and mounted. Some were just heads, like the basilisk head hung between two of the windows, its marble eyes sightless and its mouth gaping open in a permanent hiss. Others were full body mounts that filled the space of the room, such as the mount of a chimera with its lion’s head, goat body, and snake-headed tail.
I let go of the duke’s arm to wander the room, reading the gold plaques set beneath the fae monsters. The plaques listed the name or names of those who had killed the fae beasts and the date. Some of these monsters had been killed by previous dukes while many of the others had been dispatched by Greenwood foresters. My ancestors.
I halted by a three-headed serpent. Its plaque confirmed what I had already known. My parents had been the one to take down this one.
I worked to control the rise of emotions. Those names wouldn’t mean a thing to me if I really had been a lady from the far-off Loxsley.
Duke Guy halted next to me, his hands clasped behind me. “I suppose I shouldn’t have brought you here. It is shocking to see the fae beasts up close.”
Much less shocking when they were dead and safely stuffed. Here, I could simply admire their strength and fierocity captured here, with a faint hint of fae magic still clinging to them. They were far more thrillingly scary when facing them in person after they had crawled through a thin spot into the human world from the Fae Realm.
But in my role as a lady, I couldn’t admit that I had faced beasts like these while they were still alive, though none of the beasts I had killed had made it into this room. I had just begun my training with my parents when they had been killed. And within a year after that, the duke’s parents had died, he had assumed his title, he had disbanded the foresters, claiming them unnecessary, and the rising taxes and lack of a job had forced me into a life of outlawry.
I shook myself. While I had been looking at the mounted magical beasts, I had worked my way to the far side. Here, I could see the opening to the staircase that curved out of sight upward. Beside the staircase, a small wooden door set into the wall, almost as if it was trying to be overlooked.
Something about that door itched at my senses. The same way a fae beast did when it was lurking in the Greenwood.
I pointed to the staircase first. “What is up there?”
“My rooms.” Duke Guy’s voice deepened in a forbidding tone.
I might be his wife, but his rooms were apparently off limits even for me. Not a problem. I had no intention of being a real wife, and I would just sneak up there at some point when I was sure he wasn’t there.
Trying to maintain my casual demeanor, I gestured to the small door. “And what’s that?”
“Never open that door. Ever.” He all but growled the words, his tone so dark that I might have quailed if I’d had less of a spine. He gripped my arm firmly, though not hard. “Please. Do not open that door.”
“I won’t.” I daintily set my hand on his arm again. “Why don’t we continue the tour?”
The first chance I got, I was going to open that door. It most likely concealed the duke’s greatest treasure, if he was this protective of it.
* * *
After a quick detouron my way to my room, I took down the white cloth at sunset and retired early. I caught a few hours of sleep before I forced myself to get up in the middle of the night. I dressed in the tunic, trousers, and cloak that I had smuggled into the castle with me. Something in me relaxed now that I was once again dressed as the Hood.
The guard outside my room posed a little bit of a challenge. I couldn’t exit my door without him seeing, nor could I simply break into the connecting servant’s room since that door was also in the guard’s view.
That meant I would have to brave a climb down the castle wall on this nearly moonless night, a wonderfully perilous endeavor at best.
After stuffing my stockings inside my boots and tying the bootlaces together, I slung one boot over my shoulder and wiggled through the window. With my toes, I felt for a secure footing before I moved either of my hands from their grip on the window casing.
Inch by inch, I worked my way down from my window to the window of the room below. In the dark, the drop was disappointedly obscured, and the climb barely provided a thrill.
When I reached the window, I found it still cracked open as I had left it when I had ducked into the room after my tour with the duke and before my guard located me once again. It was difficult pulling the window open, forcing the crank mechanism to turn. Once I had the opening wide enough, I wiggled inside, dropping onto the window seat.
After sneaking from the room—no guards in sight—I went straight to the storage room I found earlier in the day on the tour with the duke. I looped a coil of a long rope over my shoulder and carried it back to the room below mine. That rope would make it a lot quicker to nip out of my room to the forest to confer with my brothers if needed.
That done, I navigated through the castle until I reached the tower that contained the duke’s rooms. Here, too, he had guards, but they were pacing in a rotation rather than stationed in one place. I slipped past them in the brief moment when their backs were turned at the far end.
Once inside, I crept between the monster mounts, their shapes forming grotesque, black silhouettes in the near darkness. The luring danger of that door drew me to it until I stood at the far end of the room.
For a moment, I hesitated between the twin tugs of danger. There was the danger of the mysterious door, a siren call of lurking menace.
Then there was the staircase to the duke’s rooms. He was currently up there, sleeping soundly in the safety of his castle. It would be so satisfyingly thrilling to sneak up there and taunt him in the guise of the Hood.
But I couldn’t kill him or wake him by putting a knife to his throat just yet. I still needed to locate his treasure trove.
Maybe I could leave a note. A very taunting note. Even better, I would be here to see him read it, playing the role of dutiful wife.
Perhaps on another night. For tonight, my goal was breaking into that small door.
I withdrew my lock pick set from a pocket and set to work. Lockpicking was more about feel and finesse than sight, so the lack of light didn’t bother me. After inserting the pick, I felt around inside the lock, quickly finding the two pins.
This should be simple. A mere two pins.
Yet, when I added tension to the lock with a second pick, I couldn’t seem to get the two pins to catch no matter how hard I tried.
I gritted my teeth and kept at it. This shouldn’t be that hard. Sure, I wasn’t as good at lock picking as Will. He had successfully picked intricate ten pin locks placed on the tax collection wagons. A two pin lock should have taken a mere minute or less.
After fifteen minutes of struggle, I was about ready to stab something with my lock pick. After half an hour with no success, I nearly gave in to the temptation to use language that my parents would have punished me for uttering.
After an hour, I stepped back and glared at the door. I should have been able to pick that lock. It was almost as if the lock didn’t want to be picked. Or couldn’t be picked.
I rested my hand on the door and closed my eyes. As I focused, I sensed the distant hum of fae magic that wasn’t the lingering traces of magic on the dead fae beasts but instead came from the room beyond this door.
Whatever this was, it wasn’t a treasure vault, unless the duke guarded his treasure with fae magic.
Which would mean he would have to possess magic of his own.
My parents had never mentioned that the dukes of Gysborn had descended from the fae. Surely if the duke’s father or mother had been a fae, it would have been the talk of the village. And if he’d had a fae parent, his ears would show at least a hint of a taper.
Perhaps a grandparent? Or great-grandparent? It couldn’t be much farther back, otherwise the trace of magic would be too small for the magic I was sensing behind that door.
My own magical senses came from a distant fae ancestor, though my parents had taught all of us to hone that sense through a lot of practice.
No matter how this magic got here, it meant that this had turned into more than a mere heist. I was still a forester’s daughter, tasked with guarding the Greenwood and the local villages from incursions by the fae. If the duke was using fae magic as part of his harassment of the villagers, then it was my job as both a forester and the Hood to stop it.