Violent Delights (Violent Delights Book 1)

Chapter 10: "Green in judgement, cold in blood"

Edward is to join Mortimer and Isabela in the north country. I am to remain at Windsor. I'm fully aware Isabela requested that I remain behind. And I'm not about to challenge it. However, I do dislike sending Edward into the viper's nest alone. I have total confidence in him. However it doesn't do well that he's there without at the very least moral support.
He leaves his brother John with me, and of course Elenor, Aimee, and I stay behind. Monty and his knights will travel with him. But at the moment that's not a solid force. Edward isn't used to throwing his weight around in front of his mother and Lancaster, who likely will turn up. He's trying, but the much older nobles are rather good at overbearing their king.
And so we stay behind. I bid Edward farewell with a quick kiss on the cheek. He returns it with an equally soft kiss to my lips. He never kisses me long in public. In public he'll generally claim me, a hand on my shoulder, hand in mine, gentle kiss to the cheek. In private though he'll seek comfort, be it in my lips or arms. Often just speaking of the cares of his day, or his plans. Someone to listen to him soothes him. And I'm happy to do that. I don't know how accustomed he's grown to our marriage over the past few months, but I know I was happy with the arrangement.
Parted now I am content enough to settle into life. He'll have wars soon, and he'll always travel for the country. So I get used to it. Elenor and John are pleasing company. Together they acclimate me to the family's unique sense of humor, which is founded in series of droll pranks. John gets his little sister giggling by filling all her shoes with pebbles, and they both conspire to wake me up in the middle of the night leaving a plate of cheese outside my door. The joke's on them I love cheese and if I'm up I'm hungry.
We wind up having a good time. Elenor is nearly warming to me, and between John and Aimee, they have her mostly out of her shell. I set up correspondence with my mother and sister, using an old code to appraise them of the situation at hand. They had heard rumors apparently, of the old king's survival, and promise to keep their eyes open. My mother has some spy networks she can engage, but I caution against too much looking. Neither I nor Edward can be seen to be looking for him that would technically be treason.
And, just as summer is coming, Edward calls for me.
He sends for me, begging my company at the estate where his mother and Mortimer are staying, where he's gone. Just me, well, me and a small household, the rest of my household which is to say the children, are to stay put. Apparently his mother doesn't strictly know we got either of the other two out of the Tower and doesn't need to. The coded letters wound up being quite useful.
And so I and Maggie pack up. I leave Aimee with the children, and I and a small set of my people make the day's journey to the north of England. In spite of myself I quite like it here, the grey days don't bother me and it's lovely and cool even now on the cusp of summer. My fifteenth birthday is in a few weeks, which prompted the occasion of Edward sending for me.
Edward greets us when we arrive, and I see him smile genuinely when he lays eyes on me. I'm in one of my older lilac dresses, and as ever when around his mother, I didn't plan much for how I'd look. Now though I wonder if he thought I'd look nice for him.
He just beams though, and takes my hands in his warmly. He kisses my mouth, this time though he savors it, for just a moment.
"I missed you, I'm glad you came," Edward says, squeezing my hands.
"I missed you too," I say, surprised that it's honestly true. I have come to enjoy his company.
He kisses me again, very quickly, bumping his nose against mine, "Things are going well. I'll tell you all inside."
We go in and get settled in our rooms, and then Edward promptly descends with only two dogs. He's decidedly cheerful, which doesn't actually put me at ease.  War in Scotland has been discussed, it seems, and he feels his mother and Mortimer are going his way. Nothing is finalized, but he thinks that they're respecting his opinion.
And I highly doubt that. But I don't say anything. There's no point in arguing. I don't have proof.
At dinner, though, I get my proof. Mine at least. It's not good enough for Edward it wouldn't be. But the thing is, his mother and Mortimer are pleased as well. They're polite to him. And to me. And decidedly calm. Which can't possibly mean they're listening to the fifteen year old who wants to go to war in Scotland. They don't want that. So why are they happy?
Well, because they're lying to him.
And here's the thing. It's all well and good to play by the rules. I'm quite good at it. I know the rules of society I have since I was born. But I did warn his mother. I control all the pieces. And sometimes you have to make unexpected moves to get at what you truly want.
I realize I'm a bit stuck. I'm just fifteen. I've got limited contacts, very, very limited means, and I don't hold any titles or political power.
But that's a double edged sword.
Everyone thinks that their stories are written in the stars. Like Lancelot and Guwenilvere, destined to fall in love and have a lifetime of heartache. Before they even met, before the story is told we know how it's going. And the girl with no political power and unchecked ambition, is going to lose. Girls that look like me, with flat noses, and unruly hair, who talk all the time, who like being clever, don't get the handsome king. That's not how the stories go. Girls like me get burned at the stake, as witches. Or the man finds a girl with ambition less than his. And I die alone having accomplished nothing.
That's how the story is supposed to go.
So I'm changing it. I can do that. That's the beauty of seeing it all as a chess game. Simple. Sixty four squares. You line it up. And you can make any move. Sacrifice a piece. But no matter where you are in the game. There's always a way to win. However unexpected.
After dinner I go back to my room. And I have Maggie procure some of the maid's costumes. And I change into those.
You see, Edward's mother is rather paranoid about keys. I don't know why. It's rather pointless to be paranoid if you have nothing to hide. Me? I leave all my notebooks out in the open. Nothing in there incriminating. You can't ever let anyone have anything on you so you can't leave it laying about. That's easiest to do if there's simply nothing incriminating to find.
So Edward's mother sleeps with the keys under her pillow. Which sounds like a very safe place. If you're noble, you're not going to enter her room.
But there's nothing stopping me from dressing as a maid. She's not going to look twice at me she's never seen me with my hair down. And she's across the room when I and the others enter to turn over her bed.
I scurry in on the pretense of getting the chamber pot. And I slip the keys from beneath her pillow.
Then I very calmly, walk out. You can walk most anywhere, calmly, dressed as a servant. I tuck the keys into my dress, and make my way over to the wing where Mortimer's office lays. On the way I find one of the cats that just had kittens. I pick up two kittens and tuck them into my pockets. I'm not usually very good with animals, I am all right with horses but I don't bother with house pets. Edward and his siblings are teaching me. I'm not fond of the lion yet, but the little cats are fine.
And so I make my way to Mortimer's office.
Third key is the right one. I let myself in, carefully closing the door. There are already several candles burning. So he's coming back? Got to make this quick.
I go over to the desk. Some correspondence. Something about Scotland. And some of his financial papers. That should do it.
I fold those up and hide them in my bodice. Then I take the kittens from my dress. I kiss them each on the little head before putting them on the floor.
Sorry little ones.
Door locked, I set the keys on the desk. It'll look like he left them there by mistake and never brought them to Isabela. The door locked means that he who has a copy of the key, certainly, left and locked it, forgetting the whole key ring. He didn't. But it certainly looks like that. The odds of someone taking they keys then leaving them are rather low. It's completely bizarre it makes no sense to take the keys then lock them in the office.
I overturn one of the candles onto the desk. The papers go up in a minute. And the kittens are very obvious suspects.
I go to the window, pivoting it open. The ledge is just wide enough to step out on. A totally improbable way to leave the scene of the crime. I close the window from the outside, then carefully edge my way to the next set of windows, a room over. It takes a little step. But my sister and I used to think it was funny to sneak in between our rooms in this manner. So a necessary skill. And highly improbable for me to have done it.
I climb into the next room, a now empty sitting room. Lovely.
I climb in, close the window, and steal across the room in the dark.
Now it's just to exit this wing and make my way back to safety.
I slip out into the dark corridor. I'm not going back to my own room, no, I have papers to deliver.
Maggie already found out where Edward's room is for me. Now I just have to hope he's alone. He is my husband. It's probably my right to enter without knocking.
Which is how I find out my husband sleeps mostly naked, and dives for a sword if his room door opens.
"Me!" I say, holding up my hands.
"Don't do that—what am I saying absolutely do that again!" He laughs, dropping his sword and exchanging it for a white shirt. He's only wearing white shorts, no shirt, which means I get to see his chest, which right now is black and purple with bruises. He's also got very impressive muscles going on, but the jousting related injuries distract from those. A little.
"I'm sorry, I needed to change, I brought you something," I say, tossing the papers on the bed, "Might want to hide those to read later."
"What?" Edward asks, confused, putting on a long white shirt.
"Do hide that," I say, taking off the dress and all but my white underthings. I kick the maid's costume under his bed, then crawl in. "Come on, get in bed."
"Right," that direction he's fine with, crawling into bed and putting an arm around me, "You're cold."
"I've been outside," I say, leaning against him, I'm surprised how much I missed his cuddles. He's very secure and good at snuggling.
"Why? And why'd you need to bring me papers it's late?" He asks, hugging me.
"Because I stole those from Mortimer's office then set it on fire," I say.
"What?" He actually laughs, "Are you joking?"
"No, of course not."
"You can't set bits of the castle on fire just to steal something!" Edward laughs, diving for the papers now to look at them.
"You're going to have to hide those," I say.
"These are his bank statements—You can't do things like this!" He cries, shuffling through them.
"Yes I can. I can do anything I want. You can do anything you want. You can do most anything as long as it's so weird no one can logically accuse you of doing it without sounding mad," I say, "It's really easy. No one can say 'did your wife set my office on fire then shimmy out the window'  that's absurd, bordering on treasonous to say it. Therefore I can do it."
He just leans over and kisses me, "You smell like fucking fire."
"Is that good?" I ask, frowning.
"Oh, it's amazing," he says, staring at me then kissing me again, one hand cradling my head, "You just started a fire I might need to kiss you for an hour."
"Did not know fires had this affect," I laugh a little.
"Most fucking definitely you smell like smoke, god, you're beautiful," he says, tangling his fingers in my curls, and pressing his face against mine.
"What?"
"Arsonist. My beautiful arsonist," he kisses me again, but more intoxicatingly this time, bending his body around mine, arms slowly encompassing me. I'm confused why he's more interested in me than the materials but I'm enjoying the kiss too much to complain. I don't know how he knows how to kiss me like I need. But somehow he does. And my heart breaks every time for I fear the day he won't kiss me this way. And I'll only have the memory of being young and tangled up in the bedsheets and him knowing how to kiss me the way lover should.
Naturally we get interrupted by a knock at the door.
"GO AWAY," Edward shouts then just goes directly back to kissing me.
"My lord, there's been a fire," Monty says, with absolutely zero concern for Edward's well being, and with complete blame for the fire. As in he knows for a fact he's addressing the primary suspect.
"Oh, that's very weird, GO AWAY, I'm busy," Edward says.
"Your mother is looking for you."
"Shit," Edward laughs. He shouldn't be so handsome when he swears.
"Would she walk in here?" I ask, still in his arms.
"Absolutely she would—fine, come in Monty," Edward sighs, sitting up a little, then blushing when he realizes he's clearly got me in his bed.
Monty is not embarrassed, Monty blames us for the fire. Monty has seen some things and could care less about arsonist fifteen year olds snuggling, "So there was a fire in Mortimer's office —not to do with the papers her ladyship is hiding I'm sure—and your mother was concerned there was an intruder as she'd lost her keys."
"Where are the keys?" Edward asks me, rubbing my arm a little.
"In his office," I say, "Rather near the fire."
Monty crosses himself and breaths heavily.
"Oh come on, you've known me since I could walk there was no way I wasn't responsible for, or in bed with, the cause of the fire," Edward says, nestling his face in my hair.
"Right, I'm going to go and tell her you're in bed with your wife, goodbye," Monty says, but with relatively little will to live.
We both laugh as he leaves, which does not cheer him up I don't think.
"Right, where was I? Ah yes," Edward says, going back to kissing my neck.
"This is sinful."
"You set a fucking fire, Vivianne," he says.
"You shouldn't swear around me," I say.
"I'll swear as much as I like you know you like me this way," he says, tugging me tighter into his arms.
"I might," I do.
"Good," he smiles, going back to kissing my mouth.
"Don't you want to read those?" I ask, even though I don't actually want to stop.
"No, I want to kiss you till I forget what my mouth feels like when it's not on yours, I missed you. I didn't know what it was like to do that, miss you. Turns out it's terrible," he says.
And it's good he kisses me till we can't think, before we look at the papers. Because afterward we have no mirth left over. We kiss till we fall asleep, and once again I learn the unique pleasure of falling asleep locked in his arms, face nestled against his chest. I'm frightened how much I enjoy it. Frightened because I know how easily I could lose it. And I'm not used to caring this much.
When we wake, early in the morning, we go through the papers.
"They're making a deal, with Scotland," Edward says, his face grim. Half dressed he sits on the edge of the bed, I in my under dress.
"With your sister's hand in marriage as the price," I say.
"I thought she liked Joanie. I suppose my mother doesn't love anything at all," he says.
"You are the king. You can stop them," I say.
As it turns out, no, no he cannot.