Player's Ruse Read Free

with such a life, then mayhap . . . ’Twould mean she feels deeply.”
    And it might mean that she wasn’t so hopelessly beyond the reach of an unredeemed fourth son after all. He intended to court her himself. I tried not to wince visibly, for like Quidge, I know when I’m beaten.
    Michael was opening the door when I made my final point. “All right, but I don’t know what we’re going to do for money. We’ll have to—”
    “Oh, money won’t be a problem,” said Rosamund helpfully. She’d taken advantage of our absence to wash her face and pin up her hair, but she still looked tired, and I felt an unwilling sympathy. It took courage for a sheltered rich girl to set off on her own, though in these peaceful times there wasn’t much danger. As long as she kept away from the worse parts of the towns she passed through. And didn’t flash a lot of money. Or come across someone who thought to try her uncle the baron for ransom.
    She opened her trunk and dug into a tangle of lacy white linen. “I knew I’d need money to travel, so I brought my jewelry.” A smaller chest emerged from her undergarments, locked with one of those dainty, flimsy padlocks that women think are cute, not realizing they can be broken with a twist of the fingers. She no doubt kept the key . . . yes, she was pulling the chain out of her bodice now, which even I found distracting. Michael swallowed audibly.
    Then she opened the box, revealing a tangle of gold and silver, with gems flashing amidst them, and I swallowed. Though I hope it wasn’t audible. “Mistress Rosamund, you haven’t shown that to anyone, have you?”
    “Of course not.” She looked indignant, and for a moment I hoped I actually had insulted her intelligence, but she went on, “Well, only when I had to sell a piece, but I knew the shop people would be honest.”
    I propped a chair under the doorknob even as I spoke. “Did you sell anything in Litton?” It was a miracle she’d made it this far—truly the Gods must take pity on drunkards and fools. They certainly do nothing for the rest of us.
    “No, I haven’t sold a piece for . . . three days I think. Why?”
    Color slowly returned to Michael’s face. “Rosamund, mayhap you should let Fisk look after that for you. He’s good with money, and would likely get a better price for the jewels than either you or I.”
    In three days anyone who was going to come after her probably would have, but I wedged the chair hard against the door anyway.
    “If you like.” Rosamund shrugged, watching my antics with some surprise. “But you see, money won’t be a problem. In fact, I can pay you for taking me to Rudy, so it all works out.”
    “We don’t want your money,” said Michael predictably.
    “Speak for yourself,” I said.
    Rosamund and I exchanged a smile, and I knew that whatever Michael said, some of her funds would find their way into our coffers.
    I decided hiding the jewels under our unwashed clothes was probably safest, and I also took the precaution of transferring them to a plain cloth bag and replacing the jewel box in Rosamund’s trunk as a decoy.
    Then we all went down to the kitchen to watch Michael prepare the fish. I chopped a few vegetables for him, and Rosamund told us about her adventures on the road, including the appearance of Master Quidge shortly after she’d passed out of her uncle’s fiefdom.
    “It makes sense,” said Michael thoughtfully, poking the sizzling fish with a fork. “He couldn’t know whose fiefs she’d be traveling through, and he’s offended some of his neighbors. As a bounty hunter, Quidge is accustomed to crossing the fiefdom boundaries and taking the unwilling back to justice. He’d know how to go about it.”
    We glanced at each other wondering why he hadn’t succeeded with Rosamund, and she caught the look.
    “Oh, he tried several times, but I met some of the nicest people and they wouldn’t let him take me. All I had to do was scream.” Her lips twitched, and