Lord of Legends by Susan Krinard

Author:Susan Krinard
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-12-18T09:10:28+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CURED BERTIE?

Mariah walked closer to the door and peered in over Sir Jeremy Ackland’s shoulder. The prince was sitting in a chair by the bed, clearly whole and hearty, his skin a normal color and his gestures vigorous.

“Truly remarkable,” he was saying to someone just out of Mariah’s sight. “I had always understood that the Apache are the most bloodthirsty of all the American tribes.”

“Not as bloodthirsty as one might suppose,” Ash said. “What skills I possess, they taught me.”

“And those savage skills work damned well, by Jove,” Bertie said, then caught a glimpse of Mariah. “I beg your pardon, ma’am,” he said with his usual courtesy.

“Not at all, sir,” Mariah said. She glanced at Ash, holding pride of place in a chair opposite the prince’s. “I am grateful that you are recovered.”

“So am I, so am I.” Bertie beamed at the room in general. “Ah, Sinjin. I trust that your chef is prepared to produce an excellent dinner tonight.”

“I assure you that M. Mézières will be as pleased as I to celebrate your return from the grave,” Sinjin quipped.

The prince belted out a laugh as he heaved himself up from his chair. “For now, I wish to go outside. Will you join us, Lady Donnington, and hear more of your cousin’s entertaining stories of life on the American frontier?”

“With pleasure, sir,” she said. But try as she might, she couldn’t get close to Ash again. His popularity had taken such a turn for the better that every one of the prince’s companions seemed determined to keep their new favorite occupied.

Only after everyone had finally gone to bed did she manage to corner Ash where he sat in Sinjin’s library.

“How did you do it?” she asked. “How did you cure the prince?”

Ash had risen at her entrance. “Lady Donnington,” he said, “I am sorry that I was not able to speak to you earlier. It was not of my design.”

She moved closer, puzzled by this inexplicable new formality. “What is wrong?”

He hesitated, barely meeting her eyes. “Nothing is wrong.”

“You have certainly achieved what you intended,” she said. “You have the prince’s unqualified approval, and this time I doubt that anything you can do will lessen it. How did you cure him? If you can simply explain…”

“I cannot,” he said, meeting her gaze. “If I had an explanation, I would tell you.”

“You learned this from the Apaches?” she asked incredulously.

“No,” he said. “I never met an Apache. I never lived in the West at all.”

“I beg your pardon?”

He continued to hold her eyes with his. “My entire ‘past’ was all derived from the books I read, and from what you told me of my probable origins,” he said. “My past, my stories of the West…all—”

“Lies?” she whispered, too stunned to move.

“Necessary deception.”

She sat down hard in the nearest chair. “Why?”

“I could not remain a prisoner any longer.” His eyes were dull with sorrow, and yet a fire burned beneath the veil of sadness. “Even before I met the prince, I

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