Free Claire Delacroix by The Rogue Page A

out my hand again. “Just as I would prefer not to find myself locked into this chamber at first light, the keys tied on your girdle on their way to Dunbar.”
    Ada’s eyes glittered as she studied me. “You are not the Ysabella that once I knew.”
    “No, I am eighteen summers of age and readily cowed no longer. I have learned much in these past years, Ada.” I gave her that cool smile which seemed to trouble her the most. “Give me the keys, and give them to me now.”
    To my surprise, she chose not to further defy my command. I had thought I might have to wrest the keys from her, but Ada untied the rings of keys from her girdle and sourly surrendered the smallest ring to me. “The keys to your chamber, my lady.” The title she uttered with a sneer, but already I grew accustomed to that.
    “And the others?”
    “I have yet to secure the stores this night, my lady. I would not disturb you by bringing the keys to you later this night.”
    She lied and we both knew it.
    But the truth was that I would need the knowledge of Ada in the days ahead, as much as it galled me to admit as much. And there was something she desired of me, something that had compelled her to make this concession. I would unravel her reason for that later. For the moment, I would compromise in the hope of prevailing at the greater battle.
    I smiled. “Then good night, Ada. May you have pleasant dreams.”
    She looked as if she might have said something else, but instead she turned away. Her footfalls echoed on the stairs, then the door to the chamber below closed audibly.
     
    * * *
     
    I lit a candle with the coals in the brazier and followed her, sifting through the keys until I found the one that locked the outermost door. I then climbed the stairs again and dropped the latch to bar the door at the top of the stairs, praising the fact that the Lammergeier were so concerned for their own security. There was none within this chamber but me, and there would be no others all the night long.
    That took the steel out of my shoulders. I leaned back against the door for a moment and closed my eyes, breathing deeply of Merlyn’s presence and glad to finally be alone. Rain began to fall in heavy drops against the stone walls, though the wind had died. The sound was rhythmic and soothing. I breathed deeply of the night air and felt somehow soothed.
    I put Merlyn’s box upon the pillow, running a fingertip across the inlay work on the lid. Merlyn’s box is wrought of some exotic wood, its surface dark and burled. It is polished to a gleam and it snared the lantern light now, glowing as if dusted with gold. It is twice the length of my hand, the width of one hand from longest fingertip to wrist and almost the same depth. Its lid is inlaid with a white lammergeier, the bird’s wings outspread and its hooked beak open.
    Five years ago, I had stood in this very chamber with my new husband. Merlyn had caressed the inlay with his thumb, a gesture I now echoed unintentionally, while he told me that the bird was wrought of ivory. I did not know what ivory was, which he found amusing, as he found it even more amusing when I challenged his explanation. Elephants, I had informed him, did not truly exist outside of fireside tales, as every woman of sense knew.
    Or so I had been certain then. I stroked the inlay now and smiled. I had learned much from Merlyn in a mere fortnight, the mere fortnight that we had lived as man and wife.
    Perhaps I had learned more than I truly wanted to know.
    Merlyn’s box held everything precious to which he could lay claim - it contained documents and deeds and coins and keys and the occasional jewel. It still did, though my single treasure - of worth to me alone - now nestled in the silk lining with the box’s contents, as well. And the key hung upon the worn red silken cord looped around my own neck, not Merlyn’s.
    My hand rose to that silken cord, my fingers coiled in its softness. A lump rose in my throat as I fancied I