of dutiful brother.
Three Argentines left to murder. An opportunity like this might never present itself again. She could step into a fountain in the castle and magically appear in the sanctuary. She believed she could kill one, maybe two, if fortune favored her boldness. But she’d be caught. And that was not an outcome she would tolerate.
Sir Chauvigny had paused next to her, standing in the archway and looking down at the spray of foam on the rocks as the surf collided with them. He was a handsome knight, one of Estian’s best men. His arm was still pressed between rods and bound in wrappings to help the break heal. Ransom had captured him at Dunmanis, expecting to receive a fee to earn release, but Alix had freed him from his confinement. She’d tended to his injury and placated him with words designed to win both his loyalty and his affection. He did not have all Ransom’s skill, but he was a powerful warrior and one with great potential.
Chauvigny lacked one essential quality: he was not the man she wanted. As she thought about Ransom’s rejection, the enmity burned hotter inside her. She felt . . . jilted. She could not remain aloof about it. The feeling twisted inside her like one of her deadly concoctions.
“Can he sense you from here?” asked Chauvigny. His tone revealed his feelings of rivalry against Ransom. He, too, wanted vengeance.
“It is too far,” she said. “That’s why we came through the fountain when we did. I had to be sure he’d be away.”
“When my arm heals, I’d like to face him again.”
So like a man.
“You’ll have your chance. The king wishes him removed.”
“Gladly,” said Chauvigny.
The door at the end of the corridor opened, and a woman appeared, a servant by the looks of her, middle aged and doughy. She was startled to see a knight and lady standing there by the arch.
The woman looked at them warily and with concern. “What are you doing here? The wedding is underway at the sanctuary.”
“I know,” said Alix, shifting her speech to that of a fluent speaker of this realm. “Thank you, madam. But my husband fell ill last night.” She stroked Chauvigny’s arm and gave a disappointed pout. “He’s still recovering from the fight at Dunmanis. Poor thing.”
As she spoke, she reached out with her Fountain magic and dispelled any mistrust or wariness the woman felt. Immediately the matron’s expression shifted to one of regret.
“I’m sorry, my lord,” she said, clucking her tongue. “How unfortunate for you to have come all this way only to miss it.”
Chauvigny shrugged but didn’t speak. His accent would have revealed him immediately. Little did he know, but it wouldn’t have mattered. Alix’s skill would have made the woman hear what she expected to hear.
“Do you know if the new duke and duchess of Glosstyr will be staying here awhile?” Alix asked sweetly, tilting her head to one side, giving the woman a feeling of trust in her. Alix’s magic infiltrated the senses so subversively that it couldn’t be noticed.
“They’ll be going to Atha Kleah first,” said the woman brightly. “Representatives from the nobles are here for the wedding. Rude sorts. But they came begging peace. Some of the lords have tucked their tails and run back to their castles. As well they should!”
“They’ve waited many years for the heir to return,” Alix said. “Is she excited to be with her own people again?”
“As pleased as a cat in the cream,” said the woman, sighing. “We’d just as soon keep her here. She may be the new queen of Legault, but she’s Lord Archer’s daughter first and foremost. And Lord Ransom . . . well, if he isn’t a noble of the highest kind!”
“Yes, he is,” said Alix with feeling, suffering another spasm of jealousy. “Did his sister come to the wedding?”
“Of course! And so did his brother and his lady mother. It is sweet seeing their family together. Good days are ahead of us, I think. Well, sorry to disturb you. I have duties to fulfill. Glad you came for the wedding.”
“You are so kind,” Alix said, withdrawing her magic as the woman turned and left the way she came.
Chauvigny grunted. “I wondered if you were going to kill her.”
“There was no need. I do only what must be done.”
Chauvigny gazed at her, his eyes full of speculative interest. “You announced me as your husband.”
“Do you object?” she asked with a sly smile.
That only inflamed him more. “You are the