Hybel 6th, 1513 – Fitz-Chivalry estate, River Sulis, Lothianshire, Albion

The summer sunlight streaming in the windows hit Caroline’s tinted hair, exaggerating the brassiness of the tinting and highlighting the sallow color of her face over the mourning dress that Katherine insisted she wear. The forced laughter didn’t help any. If he lived to be ninety, Brandon would never understand why Katherine insisted that Caroline and Leo be chaperoned. All they ever did was sit and have awkward discussions until one of them lost their tempers. Then one of them would stalk off and sulk and the other would go home.

It was usually Marianne who was stuck with watching this sad pantomime. But she had protested that she had plans to meet “a friend” at the library this afternoon when Katherine had announced that Leo would be coming over and that she was expecting Marianne to chaperone. Well, it was phrased as a request, but all of the Fitz-Chivalry children knew when their mother said something in that tone, it was a demand and it would do them no good to protest it.

She’d looked so disappointed that Brandon had heard himself volunteering before the words had really even finished leaving Katherine’s mouth. Marianne had looked so grateful that he hadn’t even felt bad about subjecting himself to an afternoon of torture. At least until the torture started. He thought as his eyes flickered up over the top of the book that he was using as a shield against his sister and her inane chatter. 

Even now, though, it wasn’t that he was upset at Marianne, she suffered through this every time Leo came around, no, he reserved that for his mother who really thought that this madness was necessary. Leo wasn’t going to ravish Caroline on the parlor sofa with their father in his study in the next room. First of all, he couldn’t imagine any of the Finessas ravishing anyone, which was why he didn’t have too many concerns about the fact that the “friend” Marianne was probably meeting at the library was probably male. And he’d have laid pocket money it was Severus, who probably would have genuflected at Marianne’s feet with more seriousness than at the altar.

Second of all, Henry was in the next room and if Caroline so much as coughed uncomfortably, he’d stick his head out the door to see what was going on. And thirdly, Leo wasn’t stupid. Not to mention that Leo didn’t even seem to want to kiss or touch Caroline, so ravishing her on the sofa was probably as likely as a fae becoming an ironsmith.

So far they’d covered the weather and Leo’s classes at Camford and whether Caroline was enjoying her Hybel break. It all made one of Brother Loki’s lectures seem like a night out at the tavern.

“Um, I think that my mother mentioned that Lord Rance was–a cousin of yours?” Leo said, obviously grasping at straws for something to talk about.

“Well, a second cousin of my mother’s, I think.” Caroline’s eyes flickered in Brandon’s direction and he made a show of turning the page in his book, the last thing that he was going to do was help Caroline out here. If it had been any of his other siblings, he probably would have, but even at Edmund’s most annoying, he held no candles to Caroline. She was on her own here.

“I’m sorry.” Leo said running his finger over a crease on his breeches.

“Well, getting struck by lightning just sort of happens, right?” Caroline said. If she only knew, Brandon thought to himself. If she only knew… “I mean, it’s sad but I think that getting struck by lightning is just–it’s your time, you know?”

“Er. I–I guess?” Leo said awkwardly staring at the arm of the sofa.

“Your father does–something for the king, doesn’t he?” Caroline asked cocking her head to the side.

“So does yours.” Leo said, eyes narrowed slightly.

“Well, aye. But Daddy does stuff for the king in Reme, not in Albion, I was just wondering if–if your father had said anything about Garth.” Caroline asked.

“Who?”

“Cousin Milford’s younger brother.” Caroline told him.

“Nothing…” Leo looked hard at Caroline. “Why?”

“Well, I heard that the council wouldn’t want Adelina for Richard’s guardian because of Rance being near the Reman border.” Caroline said. Brandon frown slightly. Why would Caroline be listening to something like that? Caroline had less interest in politics than pretty much anyone else Brandon knew.

“That–may be.” Leo sounded guarded. “So you’re hoping that they find him?”

“If they don’t find him–doesn’t that mean that they would have to move Rance’s estate to–someone else?” Caroline pressed. Brandon’s eyes flew wide as he figured out what Caroline was asking a half moment too late to stop her from saying anything further.

“Wait–are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Horror crossed over Leo’s face. Unfortunately Caroline, being so shallow if she were a puddle you could cross it in stocking feet and not get your stockings wet, could hardly be deep enough to be saying something else.

“It’s not that I’m hoping they won’t find him, but if they don’t, somebody’s got to attend the estate, if the Rance’s can’t, then there are people who could.”

“I cannot believe, Caroline!” Leo gaped. “I know you want your father to be granted an estate, but to hope that your own kin lose theirs because your father might get it is repugnant.”

“What is repugnant about practicality?” Caroline asked as Brandon mimed for her to stop.

“You wouldn’t know practicality if it bit you in the arse!” Leo’s tone rose sharply.

“Do not swear in front of me, sir!” Caroline gasped.

“That is the very least of the profanity I would like to use directed at you right now. What kind of self-centered bitch would even think that? Certainly not one I would ever care to marry.” Leo climbed to his feet staring down at Caroline.

“And no gentleman, and I do use that term quite loosely, I would care to marry would ever use that kind of language in front of a lady.” Caroline also rose.

“It certainly doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t marry you under any circumstances. Vivi was right about you.” Leo snarled at her.

“Of course, go hide behind the jealous convictions of your precious little Vivianne.” Caroline planted her hands on her hips and sneered.

“Why would Vivi be jealous of you? You’re stupid, rude, self-centered with a mind too shallow to drown a worm in.” Leo said, throwing his hands in the air and storming away. “My father will contact yours about dissolving the betrothal contract. Good day to you, Miss Fitz-Chivalry.”

“Good day to you!” Caroline called before dissolving into tears and throwing herself on the settee. “MOTHER!” Brandon stared at his sister then at the ajar parlor door.

“Brandon?” His father’s voice came from the study door, barely loud enough to hear over Caroline’s hysterical crying. He turned and walked into the study, shutting the door after him when his father mimed for him to do so.

“I am sorry, sir.” Brandon sank into the chair.

“Don’t be. I could hear well enough that I could have interceded if I really thought that it would help anything.” Henry sighed and picked at the cuff of his shirt. “This thing has been falling apart for long enough that I was almost expecting this. Maybe if I move quickly I can repair relations with the Finessas, though I’m certain that your mother will want all contact with them cut off as of immediately.

“But–if we cut off all contact with them–won’t we be losing our chance at ever becoming ennobled?” Brandon asked. “With the close ties that the Finessas have to the crown?”

“Quite possibly. We do live in a monarchy and no matter how much we like to pretend to be above nepotism, it does still exist.” Henry steepled his fingers and stared at the ceiling for a long moment. “Your mother–I hate to put it this way–but your mother is Reman. And the only thing more important to a Reman than power–is revenge.” He sighed. “I have worked in the Reman court too long not to know that. Right now, to your mother, cutting ties to the Finessas for their supposed slight to Caroline will be far more important than whatever help being in good relations with the Finessas would put us in for eventually being ennobled.”

“So–what do we do, sir?” Brandon asked with a wince to the particularly shrill pitch Caroline’s sobbing hit in the next room.

“Well, truth to tell, this couldn’t have come at a worse time, I received a dispatch this morning, I’m going to have to go to the embassy in Reme for a month, six weeks maybe, to hopefully keep the Remans from poking too many sticks at Rance until Garth can be located or another suitable guardian instated.” Henry admitted with a sigh.

“… The Lord Wright has a very peculiar sense of humor, doesn’t he, sir?”

Trigger Warning! So as not to be all spoilery, there is character death and other stuffs in this post. Proceed with caution.

Ververe 29th, 1513 – Riding grounds, outside River Sulis, Lothianshire, Albion

It seemed strangely quiet this morning. She couldn’t remember the last time that she had been riding all by herself. As it was officially Hybel break as of yesterday afternoon–despite it not yet being Hybel–there were no lessons, including riding lessons. Then Vivi had something that she was doing with her father and brothers, Elizabet had known that for a good couple of weeks. Then this morning her father told her that the FitzChivalries had sent over a servant, Marianne had sent her regrets but she wasn’t going to make it either. Still, Elizabet would be damned if she was going to spend the first day of her break sitting around the estate doing nothing.

It was, in fact, a perfect day for finding some of those trails that Marianne was too chicken to ride and Vivi preferred to avoid as well, she said she always felt like she was going to tip off. Well, of course she felt that way, that’s why Elizabet rode astride rather than side saddle when she was going on trails like that.

But what should have been a good day of riding, just her and Honey and practically the whole riding park was actually setting up to be a not so good day after all. It felt like someone was taking a pin and pricking her up and down her spine. Every branch that creaked in the faint breeze, every dry leaf that crackled seemed like an executioner’s drum. Like something horrible was ahead.

Once Honey had picked her way down out of the trees into a meadow, Elizabet climbed out of the saddle, her nervousness was obviously translating itself to the horse because it felt like she was about to bolt. And Elizabet was nowhere near big enough and strong enough to wrench the horse’s head if the mare spooked.

If she had taken half a dozen steps before she realized that she had made a mistake, she’d have been surprised, that single pin was suddenly dozens, every instinct telling her to get out of that clearing and do it yesterday.

She’d just started to move toward the stirrup when the rustling of grass and something internal told her it might already be too late. She looked up at the easiest way out of the meadow.

“Lord Rance.” Elizabet’s heart sunk. Her father had many acquaintances who were just fine, but Rance–he gave off the same vibe that Cox did, one that said that he was not… safe?

Outwardly, he was just another man, a counsel member, one that her father had been trying to court around to an alliance for a while now. So far as Elizabet knew though, he’d never found anything that Rance had wanted. Rance had a son who would be starting at the Academy at the start of the next year–so it wasn’t entirely–weird that he would be in River Sulis, or even that he’d be riding in the park.

But she knew, in that way that she could never say how, that this was not right.

He slid out of his saddle and Elizabet bit her lip, hard.

“Ah, Lady Elizabet, just the lass I was hoping to see.” Elizabet’s throat went dry. Why would he want to see her?

“I guess the luck is more with you than me, Lord Rance.” Elizabet said.

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Rance stalked toward her at a ground eating lope that was as intimidating in it’s purposefulness as having Rance suddenly looming over her was. “Some people would count this as their lucky day.” He swept up one of the plaits hanging over her shoulders, twining the blonde strands around his fingers for a moment.

“Somehow, I seriously doubt that I’m going to be one of them.” Elizabet said, grabbing her plait and pulling it out of his hands, repressing an urge to shudder.

“Well, what you think is hardly relevant.” Rance told her with a matter of fact tone that Elizabet didn’t like at all. “I’m just taking what I am owed.”

“Owed? What are you going on about.”

“Your father has tried for years to find something that could sway me ’round to an alliance with him. He’s got a block, you know, on this edge of the country. Only Firth and Rance don’t vote en block with your father. The Earl of Firth hates your father’s guts and I truly think he’s given up on it as the earl’s heir feels much the same way. He’s figured out ways to work around Firth.” Lord Rance smiled, it wasn’t a pleasant thing. “However, I have been on occasion both a help and a hindrance. I’ve never found any reason to make it easy for him. He’s never had anything I’ve wanted–until recently.”

“However, one evening–at a quaint little tavern that I sometimes frequent–your father’s steward, Masen, happened to catch up with me–and it so happened that your father had come into something I was interested in.” Rance was moving closer to Elizabet with the same purposefulness that he had crossed the meadow with. She had a sneaking suspicion that she knew what he was interested in.

“You see, Lady Elizabet, it is so hard to find such things–They’re very easily broken.” He said in a musing tone.

“Well, I’m not that easily broken.” Elizabet snarled, refusing to be cowed by this jackass.

“All the better.” Rance almost purred in a thoroughly disturbing tone.

“I don’t care what you think you’re owed–or what my father agreed to, you’ve got about two seconds to stop touching me or you’re going to regret it.” She slapped his hand away from her hair. Rance just laughed. He caught her shoulders and forced her back toward Honey’s side, pinning her more or less against the horse. Honey whuffled in surprise, but otherwise stood firm, trapping Elizabet.

She shoved at his chest when he let go of her arms enough that she could. Rance’s chuckle was just fuel for the fire that was suddenly racing up Elizabet’s spine. She was not going to be another one of Rance’s “broken toys”. He was just enough off balance from her shoving that when she kicked him in the knee, he took a step back. She used the newly won space to get one good gut punch in.

He gasped a moment for breath, but when he caught it–and her–he was smiling. He liked this.

Catching her hands up in his left, he belted her across the face. A few moments of struggle later–his nose slightly crooked and bleeding profusely from her elbow slamming repeatedly into it. Her cheeks on fire from where his slaps had split them. Her nose was dripping blood too, but she didn’t think her nose was broken as his surely was. He hit her hard enough to send her reeling.

She didn’t think she passed out–exactly, but everything had gone all fuzzy and when it cleared, her riding habit was tossed off into the grass on one side and he was drooling against her neck–actually drooling–like a dog. The feeling of that sliding down her neck forced a reaction out of her. She lashed out with a foot and caught him hard in the gut. He made a surprised wumph and crossed his arms across his torso.

Elizabet squirmed up into something of a sitting position, the two of them staring at each other for a long moment, then he leaned forward, his lips stirring her hair as he spoke. “I love it when you fight. So many of them just cry and squall. It’s so much better when you fight, bitch.”

As if something in the core of her had been embers that were suddenly fed paper and stirred, fire raced along every nerve ending in her body. She snarled something–some words that didn’t make any sense–except they did. Rance had about enough time to look uncertain and back up a few feet before a bolt of lightning screamed through the tortured air and wrapped around him.

Two more bolts, in quick succession, hit him square, the third knocked her to the side and she collapsed, face down, into the meadow’s soft green grass as rain began to fall as if the very sky were crying for her.

—

Darin and Brandon had about enough time to scramble after Josh who took off as if he knew exactly where he was going–but nowhere near enough time to ask if he by any chance knew were he was going. He cut through some of the thickest trees seeming like a shadow except his bright flag of hair.

A few minutes, enough time for a couple other rumbles of thunder to crash down somewhere ahead, they broke through the trees into a meadow. Two horses, one a butterscotch colored mare, the other a very ordinary seeming chestnut gelding were grazing on the ground, seemingly unconcerned about what had happened in the meadow.

Given what Darin knew about horses, they should have been bolted for the four winds by now, not grazing calmly.

On the other side of the butterscotch horse who whuffled at Josh as he passed and he patted the mare’s nose absently–it sorta seemed like all hell had broken loose. A blonde girl was flung to one side, a scarlet riding habit balled up and tossed off to the other. It was obviously the girl’s because she was only wearing underwear.

“Bet.” Josh sobbed, kneeling by her side and reaching out to stroke her hair. Feeling very much the outsider as Brandon knelt by the girl as well. He had little sisters–he probably had a better idea than Darin did what to do with–all this.

But if he wasn’t going to look at Elizabet, his eyes were drawn to the–other person in the meadow. Electricity crackled over the man’s skin still. Sparking and shooting little miniature bolts of lighting out into the muggy air.

He was groaning–the occasional tortured sounding breath escaping from his mouth which was twisted and split. He was obviously dying and even had that best doctor been on sight, nothing they did would have changed that. A gasp behind him dropped his stomach as even seeing Elizabet’s crumpled riding habit and the dying man hadn’t.

Stupid, Darin! Stupid! He maybe had remembered to tell the kids to stay with the horses–but of course they weren’t going to. They were kids–curious enough for six cats. He should have been smart enough to stay with them. To wait where he was. Now he was going to die, probably painfully, when his sister and Raven realized that the kids had seen someone die because he was an idiot.

And that fate would be reserved for if the kids didn’t figure out what had happened to Elizabet. If they had any inclination of what Elizabet in her unmentionables meant, Sara-Beth would go hunt up the bonephone itself and bring him back so she could keep killing him.

He heard some stirring behind him and took his attention off Anna-Marie and the other kids for just a second to see Elizabet climbing disorientedly to her feet. Josh caught her when she stumbled and her breath hissed between her teeth half in pain, half in reaction before she buried her face in her brother’s coat.

The man on the ground flopped for a moment like a fish, flipping onto his back, before blood spewed out of his mouth in a miniature fountain, eyes half-open.

“Is he–?” Brandon asked. Darin, much as he didn’t want to, but feeling probably the most qualified to make the call, went over to where the man lay, now still a hand under his nose indicated no breath, a touch to the neck, wrist, and chest indicated no flutter of heartbeat. He was dead.

“Aye.” Darin said. “My sister’s a nurse, she taught me–y’know?” Brandon looked puzzled, but seemingly more by the idea that Darin would think that he’d question him than by the pronouncement.

“He’s, he’s, he’s…?” Bronx gasped. Shit!

“We’ve got more trouble than that.” Josh said finally. “That’s Rance. And Rance doesn’t go to the pot without at least a couple of guards around. He wouldn’t want them that close, if–well.” Josh trailed off. “And they probably don’t know exactly where he is–was?” Josh looked at the body like he wished it would stir again so he could tear it to bits as he pulled his sister a little closer to his shoulder.

“But they’ll be coming.” Brandon agreed. “I’m not sure why that’s more trouble, though. He got struck by lightning.”

“He just happened to get struck by lightning while attacking my sister? You really think anyone will buy that was a coincidence given our family history?” Josh asked.

“But can’t your father do something about it? I mean no offense, Josh, but nothing goes in or out of River Sulis without your father’s saying it can.” Brandon pointed out.

“Father told him he could.” Elizabet’s voice shook and sounded more like an echo than like the vivacious girl that Darin was coming to know. “He wanted an alliance with Rance–and I was–the payment they…” Josh drew in his breath and muttered something into Elizabet’s hair.

“Like I said. We’ve got trouble.” Josh closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “Okay, Brandon–get Bet out of here. We can force father’s publicity machine to cover our asses, but only if those guards can’t connect Bet being attacked with Rance’s death. Darin–will the kids talk?”

“Only to their parents, probably–and then more about,” He jerked his head toward the body. They didn’t even seem aware–as of yet–of Elizabet. Maybe that was because between the horse and the fact that she was clinging to Josh like ivy to an old stone wall, they just couldn’t see that she was more naked than dressed. Maybe. “I’ll–um–see what I can do.” Darin said. Not certain what he would do, but needing–somehow–to make some sort of promise given the look in the other boy’s eyes.

“Okay, get the kids out of here too.” Josh said. “I’ll bullshit the guards, I’m good at that, and can pull rank if worse comes to worse.”

“Anna-Marie.” Darin called the girl over. She and her friends came to where Darin stood, giving wide birth to the dead man in the grass. “I need you to go back to the pond, go back to the horses, we’ll get you there. And take care of Bronx for me–and Starla, okay? Can you do that for me?” Anna-Marie’s hands shook but she nodded. Her head had barely completed one full nod before the other kids were taking off for the pond at a run. He voiced a silent prayer to the Lord Wright that he would keep those kids at least sort of sane.

“I should–I should go with them, shouldn’t I?” Darin asked as Anna-Marie’s yellow dress disappeared at last into the ring of trees.

“No–please–I–please?” Josh asked. Darin had about enough time to nod before the sound of horses making their way up the incline hit his ears.

Josh squared his shoulders, pulling around him an aura of Lord Joshua, son of the baron of River Sulis as thick as Darin had ever seen it and he strode over to where Rance’s horse stood at the mouth of the path. He heard the jingle and thump of two men dismounting and braced himself.

“What’s going on here?” One of the two guardsmen in the emerald green of the Gwynedd family demanded.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Josh’s voice was haughty. “Shouldn’t you have been here attending to your lord rather than leaving him to die alone like some common rabble in the grass?”

“Die?” The other one asked.

“Who are you to ask me anything?” The first sneered.

“Lord Joshua, son of the Baron,” his eyes flickered over the man’s plain surcote. “Unless your father has very messed up priorities, guardsman, I would say that alone gives me every right to question your actions.” The guardsman flushed.

“Begging your pardon, my lord.” He said dropping his eyes.

“I’ll consider it.” Joshua shook his hair back from his face, how he managed to do it, given the water that was currently dragging Darin’s hair into his eyes, Darin would never know. “As to what happened here, Lord Rance was struck by lightning.”

“Just his lordship?” The guardsman asked shrewdly.

“We heard a lass scream.” The second guardsman added.

“My sister, the lady Elizabet was nearby, I believe she was thrown when her horse was spooked by the lightning striking so near. I had one of my companions accompany her back to our estate.” Josh said calmly.

“But.” The first guardsman’s eyes narrowed.

“But? Is there something else that I should know, guardsman?” Josh demanded. The guardsman obviously knew that Rance was going to be with Elizabet, it was clear on his face–but the only people who would be able to back up that version of events were either dead or damned unlikely to admit he set his own daughter up to be raped, which is the only way the baron would have foreknowledge.

“No, no, sir, m’lord. Haynes.” He obviously knew he was trapped, instead turning to the second guardsman. “Go see to his lordship.”

“Yes, sir!” When the first guardsman had his back to Josh to go back toward the horses and the second had his back to Josh walking toward the dead nobleman, Josh turned and met Darin’s eyes. He mimed wiping sweat off his forehead and Darin shot him a grin.

Ververe 29th, 1513 – Outskirts of River Sulis, Lothianshire, Albion

Eric stood up as he heard the unfamiliar clatter of horse hooves stopping outside. He was used to hearing them continue on down the street toward Sara-Beth’s by now, but he wasn’t used to hearing the sound of a horse being tied up to his post box. His mouth was a little dry. Johnny might have been a bit more troublesome at home, but Anna-Marie was all spit and spark like her mother without her mother’s natural sense of when to cut it back.

She was absolutely fearless when she thought she was on the right track–and he worried for her so much. His heart leapt a bit higher into his throat when he heard the familiar clatter of slippers running across the front enterway, followed by a slower yet equally familiar gait–Darin’s–following.

About half a heartbeat later, he was sure it was a half, he was paying very close attention, Anna-Marie burst through the door and without even acknowledging him, tore off in the direction of her bedroom, the door shutting with a slam he hadn’t expected to hear for another five years yet.

Darin paused for a moment to shut the front door, but then turned toward Anna-Marie’s room. He glanced down at his hands, obviously avoiding Eric’s eyes, and muttered something that sounded like “Sorry, Mr. Osmont.”

Eric took a moment to remind himself to breath and hurried immediately to Anna-Marie’s door. He hesitated for a moment before knocking. Anna-Marie didn’t say anything, he looked over his shoulder at Darin who shrugged. Eric had always wanted to be a parent who could allow his children as much privacy as he could. But sometimes it was more important to be papa than to be polite.

If his baby-girl was in there crying, then obviously Papa was needed more than the manners his gram had beat into him one ruler across the knuckles at a time. He opened the door. Anna-Marie had flung herself across the bed, her hair like a black waterfall trickling over the edges and falling down toward the floor.

“Little bear?” Eric asked softly. It took about as much time as two blinks for her to push up off the bed and launch herself into his midsection with a thud that knocked the wind out of him. She clung for about an exhale before leaning her head against his torso. His daughter was shivering with reaction and if he was any judge just about to–

She covered her face with hands that shook like dry leaves in a windstorm and sobbed.

“Oh, baby. My little bear, my poor little bear.” He murmured into her soft hair as he squatted down to hold her. “Papa’s here.” He told her. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

“He’s dead, Papa! He’s dead!” Anna-Marie sobbed out.

—

Earlier that day.

“Anna-Marie, we can’t just ask!” Elias said tugging on her sleeve, pulling her around to face him. It was the first morning of Hybel break at school and it had dawned hot, muggy, sticky, and a general slice of something that just lacked a few cow demons to make it Hell. And everyone knew that the best way to spend hot, muggy, sticky summer days was fishin’–and everyone equally knew that the best fishin’ was at the pond in the big park that the nobles rode their horse ’round.

Only problem was they weren’t actually supposed to go fish there. It was the nobles park and that was just like the nobles, they didn’t even fish at that pond, but it was theirs and so nobody else was supposed to use it. But she knew–mostly because Sara-Beth had been griping to her mother as they’d done their washing–that Darry was supposed to be going riding at that very park with his friends today.

“What does it hurt to ask?” Anna-Marie asked, looking at Starla and Bronx for confirmation. Starla shrugged. She would, she was terribly wishy-washy, whatever way the tide goes, that was what her mama said. Bronx just looked sad–and scared–and like he was about to cry. She’d mostly invited him along because he looked like was going to cry. And Starla’s bleeding heart started bleeding all over the place as Anna-Marie’s mama liked to put it and she had insisted that they had to make him feel better.

Well, given that he wouldn’t talk about what was wrong–beyond the fact that he was Romeo’s brother–she’d probably be pretty sad if she were related to Romeo too.

“Who is that?” Starla whispered, pointing toward the blonde man who had his back toward them at the moment.

“I think that’s Darin’s friend, Joshua.”

“The baron’s son?” Elias squeaked.

“Don’t. Be. A. Chicken.” Anna-Marie said. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

“Huh?” All three of the others looked at her in puzzlement.

“I think it means if you don’t try, you won’t get anything.” Anna-Marie said after a long moment.

“Where did you hear it said that way though?” Bronx asked. Anna-Marie thought for a moment. Where did she hear that said? She just remembered hearing it somewhere and she thought some lady had said it.

“Dunno. Look, they’re done talking, now let’s ask before they leave. The worst that can happen is they say no. And ‘sides, Elias, the only way to get permission to go fish in the nobles’ pond is to ask a noble, and I dunno about you, but I don’t know that many nobles.” Elias didn’t look convinced, then again he usually didn’t look convinced by Anna-Marie’s logic, but they moved up toward where Darry and the blonde man that Anna-Marie thought was Lord Joshua stood.

“Hey, guys.” Darry said with a smile.

“So, um, are you gonna go ride horses?” Anna-Marie asked looking over at the two saddled horses picketed by the street.

“I believe that was the plan.” Darry told her. “Why?” Darry was probably one of those people that her mama would say knew her too well–whatever that meant.

“Cause I was wonderin’–we wanna go fishin’.” Anna-Marie offered.

“Uh-huh.” The corner of Darry’s lips was poking up as if he were starting to smile a little.

“An’ you know that the best fishin’ is at that pond on the riding grounds.” She added in a hurry.

“It is?” Lord Joshua asked, his voice bewildered. Darry nodded with a smirk. “And you know this how?”

“A holdover of a misspent youth.” Darry shrugged with a grin. “Anyway, your point?”

“Mama says we’re not ‘posed to go without permission of a noble–and Mister Lord Joshua is a nobleman, right?” Anna-Marie shot a look at Lord Joshua who–rather like Darry–looked like he was trying to keep from laughing.

“So what you want is permission to go fish there?” Darry asked, his eyebrow arched upward. Anna-Marie nodded so fast her hair bounced and made weird little noises when it hit the back of her dress.

“I don’t see why not.” Lord Joshua drawled. “Seems like you are the only people fishing that pond anyway.” He winked at Anna-Marie who blushed for some silly reason. “I’ll let the caretaker know that you and your friends have permission and not to run you off if they see you there.”

A whole summer of the best fishing in the whole town and even Anna-Marie’s mama couldn’t argue with it. Anna-Marie threw her arms around Lord Joshua’s middle and gave him a tight hug. It sorta felt like he had several rocks shoved into the front of his shirt, it was that firm.

“Anna-Marie!” Elias hissed. “You’re hugging the baron’s son!” Anna-Marie blushed again and quickly withdrew. Lord Joshua just laughed.

“Seeing as we’re all going the same direction.” Lord Joshua said after ruffling Anna-Marie’s hair. “Why don’t we all just go together.”

“I can’t walk as fast as a horse.” Elias muttered toward his shoes.

“We’ll walk the horses and you guys can ride.” Lord Joshua said as their eyes all lit up.

—

Anna-Marie grinned as she grabbed a worm and skewered the squirmy thing on her hook. Darry’s friend, Brandon shook his head. “What?” Lord Joshua asked from where he letting his horse drink out of the pond by where Anna-Marie stood.

“Just I have a little sister about Miss Anna-Marie’s age and I could never imagine her–ever–under any circumstances touching a worm, let alone skimming it onto a hook.”

“How does she fish?” Bronx asked.

“She’s a lady, I think my mother would have apoplexy and die if her daughters–any of them–ever fished.” Brandon said as Darry and Josh laughed.

“Well then, tell Marianne she needs to take up fishing, maybe between the poker and the fishing your mother will have that fit. Not that I wish her dead–but Sara-Beth says that sometimes apoplexy can cause people to be struck dumb–which I might wish on your mother–it would keep her from constantly calling me “the scholarship boy” like it’s my name.” Darin leaned against the black horse that Starla and Bronx had ridden up on.

“Somehow I don’t see it.” Brandon said. “But speaking of Marianne. She wanted me to tell you that she hoped Elizabet was feeling better.” Lord Joshua blinked and stared at Brandon.

“Feeling better?” Lord Joshua asked, sounding bewildered.

“Aye, your father sent over a servant that said that Elizabet was feeling under the weather and so they’d have to cancel their ride this morning.” Brandon told him.

“Bet was feeling fine, in fact she left at the same time I did.” Lord Joshua said.

“I saw the boy myself and heard the message. It was the little dark-haired boy your mother usually uses as a page.” Brandon said.

Obviously paying more attention to the conversation behind him than his fishing pole, Elias managed to hook his shirt collar with the hook and yank himself over. “Do not tell your brother about this.” He said, brushing off his butt and glaring at Bronx, who dropped his eyes to his shoes, looking about like he was going to cry again.

“I don’t tell my brother nothin’.” He muttered. “And I certainly wouldn’t tell him nothin’ that’d let him make fun of me or nobody else.” Elias glanced down at his own shoes and muttered something like “sorry” to them.

Starla, who actually was making the best accounting of herself–even if Anna-Marie would almost have pegged her the kind of lady that Brandon said his sister was–reached out and patted Bronx’s shoulder.

“Why would my father send a servant over to your house that Bet was sick, though, if she’s not?” Lord Joshua had about enough time to wonder before he heard it–they all heard it. The sound of a girl’s terrified scream and just the time to take a breath later, a sharp crack of thunder close, very, very close.

“Elizabet!” Lord Joshua screamed, a look of horror shot across his face as rain seemed to be ripped from the sky.

—

Later

“Who is dead?” Eric asked, stroking Anna-Marie’s hair and rubbing her shaking shoulders. One of her friends? Someone Darin knew? Who?

“The–the man from church.” Anna-Marie said. “On Sunday. The man who was with the Baron at church.”