Violent Delights (Violent Delights Book 1)

Chapter 9: "Celerity is never more admired, than by the negligent"

I'm in love with my husband now. So that isn't ideal but I'm enjoying it too much to stop. I don't know if I could if I tried honestly. I'm afraid to find out. I hope he's in love with me. I'll probably never really know.
Edward is understandably pleased and confused I have no issues with him jousting and instead am happy to watch. He's moderately satisfied that I like the sight of him covered in blood, in his element as a warrior. And he rewards my care with honesty. No longer does he hide his movements or even attempt to for fear of my displeasure.
His mother and Mortimer both send word they are to return soon. That sends us into a haze of panic. We'd enjoyed our quiet. And we are to be the children once more. Edward has a solution.
"We need a code."
I didn't say it was a good one.
"Why?" I ask, "We can speak in my room. And passing coded messages would raise suspicion."
"We need a code," Edward repeats, pleased with himself, "To start with we all need code names—,"
"Oh Jesus," Monty says, and Edward throws a pillow at him.
"Code names. I am Lionel. You're Vivienne," Edward points at me, "John is Lancelot, Elenor is Morgana, Aimee is Guinevere, and —Monty is Gawain."
"Thank god," Monty breaths. I don't know what he thought was going to happen.
"And then a cypher. I'll create one," Edward says, "That way we can pass messages as needed."
"Okay," I agree, because it makes him happy. It might be useful. I really think sending coded messages creates more suspicion but it pleases Edward so I go along with it.
His mother's impending return puts a damper on the whole house, but none worse than little Elenor. She doesn't want to be married off is all Aimee or I get out of her.
Since marriage is a prospect and I may not be able to prevent it, I decide to sit her down and have a little talk about how nice it is to be queen.
"You can control the whole court, and your husband. If you don't really like him you can arrange a couple of wars for him."
"How?" She whispers, lip quivering.
"Well, in the end men are quite afraid of us. They can't actually kill us you see. So we always win. It's just a matter of finding the proper move. You'll come to enjoy it. Once you have children then sons can wield the throne. Not me, I like Edward so I'm helping him and I'm going to keep him, but you don't really have to do that, if you don't like him you can always avoid him they go off to war very readily, and worst case scenario you write to me and I help you poison him," I say, comfortingly.
She bursts into tears.
I may need to work on my demeanor with children before I actually have children. In case they're sensitive. I'm assuming the girls at least may be like me so that will be easier but perhaps I should work on talking to sensitive people.
The Queen is not the only one to return. Kent and Mortimer do as well, almost as if they were all together. The only highlight of the occasion is Kent bracing himself to be accosted by his dead brother's beloved pets, which does not in fact happen this time. Edward assured me he gave the dogs a little talk about being good which I don't know why he thought that would work but it apparently did. I personally don't know how dogs work.
I'm mostly in the background now. I told Edward to leave me out and not to mention me at all to his mother. She still stares daggers at me, so she remembers our little talk. Good.
Lancaster shows up as well. He's a big man, a bit past Edward's height, red haired with a steady grin and slow southern drawl and an odd tip to his neck. I like him in the way I like the lion. He's definitely useful somehow and too dangerous not to like. It's incredibly obvious he likes no one at all here, and his eyes settle on me for a moment as though judging at least half of what I am. I'd like him in passing but it's clear Mortimer loathes the man, so I like him enormously.
I'm confined to mostly dinners, at which point I sit with Edward. He's in his public persona, charming, smiling at everyone, and accepting all of their lies as truth. Kent is still lying. I wish I knew about what. Perhaps everything. Edward's mother loathes me now but clearly doesn't know what to do about it. I sit there playing the innocent wife, and nothing more.
Edward and I are confined mostly to my chambers for private conversations. And once again my household is indispensable in getting messages between his loyal men and us. We could ride or walk together, but I want to go subtly on how much we're involved.
Once he's fully spoken to Kent in private, Edward updates the main conspirators, myself, Aimee, Monty, and John, with my William watching the door.
"Kent told me that he and Mortimer travelled to Wales, and my mother accompanied them, searching for my father," Edward says, glancing about as though not trusting the shadows. "But to no avail. He said he thought my father would be in disguise with Welsh laborers."
"That—does sound probable," Monty says.
"I know, but he said they found nothing. He claims he last saw my father before the wedding, last winter, not long after the coronation and that my father stated an intent to hide among friends in Wales—but that he had no means to search himself though he didn't trust Mortimer's intentions," Edward says.
"But it's all come to nothing, then?" I confirm, "They found nothing, so your father is undoubtedly alive. We just don't know where."
"Why wouldn't he send us word?" John asks, quietly.
"He doesn't trust me now, Johnny, I look like a usurper," Edward sighs, "From his perspective he was forced to abdicate to me. He doesn't trust me."
John lowers his head, tears near in his eyes.
"It's not you—he can't risk his life coming back to any of us when he doesn't fully know our intentions, just as we can't risk our lives with him coming back, it's a stale mate," I sigh.
"And now the devil of it is we don't know where he is, I hardly wanted Mortimer to find him but damn if it wouldn't help to get a message to him," Edward says.
"Aye. I'll go myself if you wanted but if he's not in Wales—," Monty shrugs.
"No, you've no starting point," Edward sighs, "So we're as lost as we were before. He could be in Wales still for all we know. They just didn't find him."
"And Kent is so far as we've got the best person to find him right?" I ask.
"Pretty much, I could try but I'm no better than he is," Monty says, "If he's in Wales he's well hidden."
"I've got it—he's not in Wales," Aimee snaps her fingers, triumphantly, "He's not in England."
"What makes you say that?" Edward asks.
"The dogs," Aimee grins.
"What?" I ask.
"Kent has been lying this whole time. That's what's throwing it off. He's not trusting you either," Aimee says, grinning now.
"I mean he wouldn't be—but what do you mean?" Monty asks, a little tiredly.
"Kent didn't go searching in Wales all spring for your father. He took Mortimer searching so Mortimer wouldn't know where his brother was! The old king hasn't been in England since January," Aimee says.
"Okay how can you know that?" I ask, turning fully to look at her.
"The dogs. When Kent came in February after the wedding, the dogs and the lion stormed him. They were sniffing him all over," Aimee says.
"Right they always look for my father," Edward sighs.
"But they didn't this time," I realize, "And they don't do it to you."
"We were distracted because we think 'yes he looks like the old king' but that's not doing it they're dogs. They track by smell. They could smell their old master. Kent had been in contact with the old king perhaps days ago, his brother's scent was on his clothes. Where would he do that?" Aimee asks.
"The coast," I say.
"He was helping smuggle him out of England. Then he returned here, and picked up Mortimer to take him to Wales on the pretense of helping look, the complete wrong direction," Aimee says, "A simple double cross. Immediately after the wedding, we're all distracted, he simply meets his brother at a tavern, and helps him ride out of England. A powerful landowner like Kent has every cause to be by the docks with a procession."
"Or even in disguise, two brothers who look enough alike. Kent's beard was short. If he'd shaved it to match his brother they could have both passed for merchants," Edward says.
"How would he just get on a ship though?" I ask, "That's a shipping manifest, records. We could track him."
They all look at each other, then say, with varying levels of loathing and enthusiasm, "Hugh."
"Who?" I ask, looking between them.
"He used to work for our father, sort of," John says, because the others are all looking at each other.
"All right, before anyone else says anything I should say that I personally think Hugh was funny," Edward says, raising his hands.
"He was the most greedy, self serving, duplicitous man you'd ever lay eyes on," Monty says.
"He was married to one our cousins," John says.
"He didn't have an honest bone in his body," Monty says.
"I realize that all sounds bad but why aren't we using him? Self serving people are easy to manipulate, and we could use an ally," I say.
"Oh he's dead," Monty says.
"Very dead," Aimee says, "Drawn and quartered."
"Ah," I wince.
"One more time, I thought he was hilarious, and if you examine the accounts we were making money. Yes he was skimming and making himself rich but the royal coffers were profiting. I realize he murdered people and was probably a sodomite but his problem solving abilities were nothing short of hysterical," Edward says, hands up, laughing.
"So he was a favorite of your father's, who was wrongly executed?" I ask.
"Oh no rightly, he committed many crimes," Monty says, "There wasn't a crime that man wasn't guilty of when all was said and done."
"He died, a bit over a year ago I should think," Aimee says.
"So why are we talking about him?" I ask.
"For a brief and highly entertaining period due to his fortunes in England going south due to our dear mother. Hugh, very rationally, simply, became a pirate in the English Channel, robbing merchants," Edward says.
"What?" I ask.
"Like I said, the man was fantastic," Edward laughs.
"He was insane," Monty says.
"But the point of the story is since Hugh, was, for a period, a pirate, there exists the possibility the old king would have had access or contacts within whoever his crew was," Aimee says.
"Who would help smuggle him out, right following, so there's every possibility if your father got on a ship there would be no record of it," I sigh.
"I did say he had friends in low places," Edward says, still amused, "Poor old Hugh. I told them to just cut off his head. The man was never going to avoid being executed that was always how he was going to go but the torture was over the top."
"Imagine if a hornet's nest were an actual person," Monty says, pleasantly.
"An actual person stealing your money," Aimee says, but she's almost smiling, "And yes it's like he's here."
"D'you remember the time we'd hidden in his office and I blackmailed him into taking us down the Thames and he acted like he was going to leave us there?" Edward laughs.
"Yes and I think you should know he was absolutely going to leave us there it was not an act," Aimee is laughing too though, "If you hadn't taken his purse he was not at all going to come back for us."
"We ate like seven pies we were so sick," Edward is amused by this dangerous childhood activity he had with this actual pirate. I have to admit the man sounds amusing.
"He wasn't bad. Our father liked him," John says.
"Father liked everyone, especially people he shouldn't, that's why we're in this situation," Edward sighs, his smile fading.
"Father didn't like our mother," John frowns.
"Our mother doesn't count as a person, Johnny, we talked about this. Nobody likes her. It's a core part of her being, not being a real person," Edward says, pushing his brother's leg. The boy pushes him back.
"So we're back where we started then?" Monty asks, "We've no idea where he is."
"No, no, not quite. We know he likely isn't in Wales, and if Kent was visiting him he's likely got free movement, and if he did get on a ship which from what Aimee said is quite likely, then we know he's on the continent," I say.
"Which doesn't actually do us much good," Edward says.
"It does, I've got friends on the continent. My mother for one, my sister for another, their loyalty is to me, staying on the throne," I say, "They can inquire at least. Subtly."
"And I can write to the pope," Edward says, "If he's seeking shelter, then the pope would grant it. I can at least find out if he's there."
"Worth the try. We at least have a direction now. And my family has some influence, and some contacts. They'll hear at least if there's word of him in Europe," I say, "It's a start."
"It's a start," Edward sighs.
"Look, this is good. He's got no army. And if he's alone he may be willing to talk. At this point with no army it's in his best interests to go along. He did abdicate," Monty says.
"He's right, while your father being dead or not dead rather would be a scandal, he abdicated the throne to you. Even coerced, he did. That doesn't stop an invasion, but we now know that it's likely that there will be no invasion, he's got no army," I say.
"I know," Edward says, quietly, "The problem is, neither do we."