A Feast Most Foul (Ducal Detective Mysteries Book 2) Page 4

  “Besides, now that I am retired, I felt a bit out of place among the men last night.” Antoine took a long sip of sparkling juice, looking around the room to ensure he had everyone’s attention. As she listened to his bravado, Jax could hardly believe a man with this big of an ego had managed to keep his identity a secret for so long. “I heard them from my chambers here in the palace. It sounded like things got quite rowdy.”

  “Well, you put a hundred hot-headed men together and things are bound to get boisterous,” Duke Mensina chortled, clearly enjoying the dynamic his latest guest brought to the room. “I hope that even though you have retired, Sir Wincaester, you will join us when we ride out for the hunt this afternoon?”

  Raising his glass, Antoine tipped his head in gracious acceptance. “Of course, I could never pass up the chance at bagging myself a prized Mensina stag.”

  Jax’s stomach flipped. She had forgotten about the hunt, its aim being to gather all the meat for the remainder of the festival. Women typically did not partake in the event, but since she was visiting as a foreign dignitary, it would be prudent for her to saddle up and accompany the men. Luckily, under Perry’s tutelage, she’d grown into a more strong and confident rider since he’d come to stay with her. Thinking about his skills in horsemanship, she looked around the room and was shocked to see Perry hunched over at the end of the long table, talking to one of her uncles and Reginald, the Master Steward. When had he entered the room? Was he avoiding her? Had his pride really been so wounded by Sir Antoine’s attention?

  Just as she was about ready to call down to the end of the table and claim his focus, a flurry of activity out in the hallway startled the breakfast guests from their conversations. Captain Solomon and a man who appeared to be the captain of the Mensina guard appeared at the door of the banquet hall, their shoulders tense. “Your Excellence,” the Mensina captain said with a bow, “might I have a word in private?” His tone did not indicate the Duke had a choice to refuse an audience.

  She met Captain Solomon’s fevered stare, a quick jerk of his head ushering her away from the table. Bidding a hasty goodbye to her dining companions, Jax strode down the long table, passing Perry with a concerned glance. “George, what’s all this about?” she whispered as the captain took her by the arm and guided her to a small, windowless chamber where they could talk in private.

  “There’s been an incident down at the campgrounds, Jax. A man was found dead in his tent this morning.”

  His words chilled her, and her hands clasped tightly together. “What happened?”

  George ran a callused hand through his dark hair, looking tired. “At first it appeared that the man might have died from a bad heart or from too much drink. His comrades said he was pounding the mead quite hard toward the end of the feast last night. However, once Captain Roche ordered him to be removed from the grounds and brought up to the castle for examination, the court physician found a small wound in the man’s back, which appears to have punctured his heart and lung. He practically drowned in his own blood.”

  Jax brought a hand to her mouth, stifling a gasp. “What a terrible way to die. How did this happen?”

  “We went back and searched the tent to see what we could find. It’s not good, Jax,” George’s face was lined with grim worry. “We found a slim dagger that fits the physician’s assessment of a murder weapon.”

  “Murder? Goodness, George, are you sure?” Jax’s breath caught in her throat.

  Captain Solomon nodded gravely. “There’s no way it could have been self-inflicted. But that’s not the worst of it, Duchess.”

  Jax’s purple eyes widened as she hung on the captain’s every word.

  “The dagger bore the crest of Saphire.”

  Chapter Five

  “How in the name of the virtues did one of our daggers get into this man’s tent, George?” Jax hissed at the implications.

  He looked at her uncomfortably, unsure how to proceed. “All my men’s weapons are accounted for, Your Grace. The only person traveling in our delegation that we have not yet searched is,” the captain trailed off, his eyes pleading with the Duchess to figure out the rest.

  “Perry.” Jax felt her insides freeze as she made the connection. “Perry was given a set of ornamental weapons before we left the palace. He was instructed to use it for ceremonial purposes when we attend formal dinners.” Jax remembered handing him the sword and knife, a coy smile exchanged between them at the time. “I gave it to him myself. I could verify if it is the same one you found.”

  “And if it is the same dagger, Jax, do you know what this means?” George asked, his voice soft.

  She gave him a harsh look. “It means nothing conclusive, Captain. Perry changed for the jousting match down at the fairgrounds yesterday. Someone could have easily stolen his blade before, during, or after the match. I’d like to think our Lord Pettraud would be smart enough not to leave a murder weapon that clearly identifies him at the scene of a crime.”

  Captain Solomon scrutinized her intensely. “You think he is being set up?”

  “I think I need to find my grandfather before he jumps to conclusions and does something he’ll regret. I’m assuming the Captain of the Ducal Guard has the knife on his person?” Jax gathered her skirts to leave the room.

  George nodded. “Yes, Captain Roche was going to show the Duke and fill him in on the events.”

  “Wonderful. I bet the two of them are conspiring against me as we speak. Can’t your men account for Perry’s whereabouts last night? I instructed that he be accompanied by a guard at all times.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously on her captain.

  “As we both agreed to last night, Perry’s chaperone escorted the young lord to his chambers after the feast and retired from there. My men confirm that the order was carried out.” The captain struggled to keep his expression calm under the Duchess’s wrathful gaze. It was clear he was at fault for not stationing a guard outside Perry’s door throughout the night, but Jax checked herself, knowing she was being unfair. Even she didn’t have a guard at her own door here in the Mensina palace. Her grandfather’s courtiers repeatedly assured her that the entire guest wing would be well protected by the Duke’s men.

  Calming her raging nerves, Jax led the way out of the room, her stride brisk and purposeful. Changing the subject, she focused on the matter at hand, not the regrets of last night. “What else do we know about the man who was killed?”

  Her captain marched beside her. “Not much, unfortunately. He traveled with the group from Savant, but he had not been in their company long. Apparently, he’s a wandering knight who hires himself out for entertainment. He wasn’t one interested in the glory of knighthood.”

  Jax wondered a moment. “His name?”

  “Master Chalfant.”

  The Duchess forced herself to move faster down a long hallway, the memory of her grandfather’s tucked-away study guiding her way. “I need you to find out more about this man, George. We must do everything possible to clear Lord Pettraud’s name up front before we figure out what really transpired.”

  “Jax.” The captain grabbed her arm gently, pulling her close to conspire. “Are you certain that Pettraud didn’t have anything to do with this? It would not be wise for us to defend a man without having complete confidence in his innocence.”

  Jax ripped her arm away with irritation, her voice cold and low. “Yes, Captain, I am certain that my intended consort did not sneak away and murder a man last night.”

  If the head of the Saphire Ducal Guard was intimidated by her seething, formidable response, he did not show it. Instead, he drew himself up to his full height and stared down at her with dark eyes. “Might I remind the Duchess that it is not in the duchy’s best interest to let emotions and feelings get in the way of logic and reason?”

  She opened her mouth to spew a fiery protest, but he cut her off. “As of the conclusion of the feast last night, our Duchess and her Ducal Guard do not have any confirmed reports of the whereabouts of her
suitor. The only record of his movements was an outburst from his private chambers, recounted as gossip by a loyal valet from his homeland of Pettraud.”

  Despite her anger at his disrespectful approach, Jax allowed his words to work their way through her calculating mind. True, she had lost track of Perry at the feast’s end, as he skillfully ignored her for most of the evening. For all she knew, he could have gone to celebrate down at the arena with the remainder of the knights. Only Uma’s joking remark about the valet verified Perry had returned to his rooms after the banquet. If the valet’s story proved false…

  “Figure out who the dead man is, Captain. That is a direct order from your Duchess.” Her sharp tone concealed her wavering certainty at the warning George issued. He was right, after all. She could not stick her neck out for Perry just yet. She had to know without a doubt he had not done this. “I’m going to find Lord Pettraud and his valet.”

  “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to let you go alone,” the captain sighed with exasperation.

  “We don’t have time for this back and forth, George. I need to get to Perry before my grandfather does. Duke Mensina is going to act swiftly for fear of tarnishing the festival’s success.” Jax left the Captain’s side with one final statement. “I do believe Perry is innocent, but I am willing to play by your rules. Now please, go find out what you can about this Master Chalfant.” Not waiting for his reply, she scurried in an unladylike manner down the hallway, winding her way back to the dining hall. Slipping in through a side door so as not to draw too much attention to herself, she spotted Perry sitting quietly at one of the plush chairs nearest to her. Without so much as a word, she grabbed him forcefully by the shoulder, dragging him in her wake back into the empty corridor.

  At least having the sense to remain quiet until she hauled him to his suite, he waited until the apartment door was firmly latched before raising his hands in bewilderment. “Goodness, what was that about, Jax?”

  Seeing his obvious distress, she felt a pang in her heart. She wanted to say a myriad of things. That he had no need to be upset about Sir Antoine and to ask why he was being so chilly towards her. She longed to lose herself in his comforting arms, but she took a deep breath, focusing her attention on the immediate matter at hand. “Perry, something terrible has happened. You may be in danger. Where is your valet? I need to speak to him immediately.”

  Her statements registered as nonsensical, his expression confused. “What? Why am I in danger? And what does that have to do with Hendrie? He’s been my right-hand man for years.” Perry’s voice trailed off. His sad eyes exposed the realization that the ‘loyal friend’ argument was no longer something Jax inherently trusted, due to her recent experience.

  She waved his questions aside, her temper flaring. “Summon him here, now, Lord Pettraud.”

  His skin paled, knowing the use of his proper title meant Jax was gravely serious. With a tug of a thinly veiled cord hanging from the wall, somewhere deep in the castle, a bell beckoned Hendrie to hasten. “While we wait for him, do you care to explain what in the name of the virtues is going on?”

  Jax folded her arms across her chest, pacing the length of the well-furnished sitting room. “Last night a man was killed down on the fairgrounds.”

  “Good grief, how? Was there some kind of drunken brawl?” Perry rushed to her side, clearly shocked when she backed away from him.

  “No, Perry. He was murdered. Killed by a dagger bearing the seal of Saphire,” Jax held his stunned gaze for a moment.

  Lord Pettraud’s face reflected a flurry of activity, of which she watched closely. Confusion and shock hurriedly danced across his features, followed by incredulity. “What, and you think it’s the one you gave me? That’s not possible.” He kicked his long, muscular legs into motion, marching over to a sleek row of bureau drawers. “Why, I had it with me last night at the feast, and put it back in this bin when I returned.” He slid open the compartment, rifling through its contents. “Wait a minute. It’s not here. Jax, it’s not here!” He pushed both hands through his tangled dark hair, pulling it back in frustration. “It’s not here,” he repeated once more, turning swiftly to face her. “I swear to you, I put the dagger in this drawer when I returned from the feast.”

  Jax tiptoed over and peered inside, confirming that the dagger was indeed gone. “Did you leave your rooms at all last night? Could someone have come in without you noticing?”

  The young man stroked his chin, trying to recall his movements from the previous night. “I did go out onto the veranda off my bedroom and have a nightcap with Hendrie. I imagine you may have heard that I got a little defensive regarding Sir Wincaester’s playboy behavior.”

  Jax felt her cheeks blush. “Yes, Uma mentioned it to me this morning. Hendrie was a bit loose lipped with the other servants.”

  Perry frowned in momentary embarrassment, but seemed relieved by the vindication. “So, yes, I would say someone could have quietly snuck into my chambers without either of us noticing. We were quite rowdy with our own interpretations of the Knight with No Face.”

  “And Hendrie will confirm this?” Jax prodded.

  He looked at her, visibly shocked. “What, you don’t believe me?”

  Jax gave him a hopeless look. “Perry, I do believe you, but unfortunately, we are at the mercy of my grandfather, and right now, he has a murder weapon that belongs to you. We need concrete proof to ensure he does not escalate things unnecessarily.”

  “Unnecessarily? You think he’ll try to use this to tear down Saphire?”

  It touched her that Perry’s thoughts went to her duchy first, and not of his own reputation. “I’m more worried about what he could do to you. To you and me.” Jax lowered her eyes, reaching for Perry’s clammy hand. “I told you before we came here that Duke Mensina can be a cruel and calculating man. I wouldn’t put anything past him. Now, where is your valet?” She stomped her foot impatiently, panic and hysteria beginning to seep into her calm exterior.

  At that moment, a straw-haired, scrawny young man stuck his head through the apartment door, obviously not realizing his charge had a guest. “You rang for me, Perry?”

  The valet’s candid greeting made Jax’s heart ache for that kind of familiarity with Uma.

  “Yes, Hendrie, Duchess Jacqueline has some questions for you about last night,” Perry motioned for the man to enter, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to ease the tension building up in his head. Only then did Hendrie notice Jax and immediately fell into a pattern of gracious bows.

  “Please, Hendrie, no need for royal protocol right now. I need your rapt attention,” Jax murmured with the grace of a socialite, capturing the valet’s focus. “Can you recall for me, please, what happened last night after Lord Pettraud returned from the feast?”

  Hendrie’s nose wrinkled in thought, clearly curious as to why he was being asked. “Well, Perry, er, Lord Pettraud came back to his suite around midnight, only a few minutes after the rest of the guests departed for the fairgrounds. I took care of his garments while he readied himself for bed. We ended up having a drink outside on the balcony, for you see, I had found a nice bottle of whiskey in one of the cupboards in the sitting room. It was quite tasty, ma’am. I don’t think I got myself into bed until after three.” He looked at her openly and unafraid.

  Analyzing the man’s brown eyes as he spoke, Jax saw the truth in his words, although, she thought grimly, she had been fooled before by those closest to her. However, she was sure the valet’s statement would hold up, should Duke Mensina interrogate the lad. “Thank you, Hendrie. One last thing. Do you remember anyone entering the room while you were out on the veranda? Or did you notice anything suspicious in the hallway when you left?”

  Hendrie glanced over at Perry, worried. “No, Your Grace, I didn’t. Has something gone missing, sir?” The young man trembled, probably fearful that Jax’s line of questioning was about the quality of his service.

  “It appears that my new dagger was r
emoved from my quarters while you and I were having that drink, Hendrie. A man has been murdered with it,” Perry stated grimly.

  “Murdered?” Hendrie nearly choked on his surprise. He looked from Jax to Perry in disbelief.

  Jax stepped forward, hoping to soothe the troubled valet. “Yes, Hendrie, and with Lord Pettraud’s dagger used as the murder weapon, we’ll need you to tell Duke Mensina exactly what you told us to clear his name from suspicion.”

  “What? The Duke thinks Lord Pettraud killed this man?” Poor Hendrie looked like he was about ready to collapse into tears.

  Before Jax could respond, there was a staccato knock on the door, and an authoritative voice grumbled on the other side. “Lord Pettraud, open up. This is the Captain of the Ducal Guard.” Based on the way the man’s voice creaked with age, it was not George Solomon.

  The three exchanged tense looks, Hendrie making his way forward to open the door. The armored man Jax had seen with Captain Solomon at breakfast appeared, her grandfather looming behind in his shadow. “Duchess, I did not expect to see you here.” The Duke’s voice revealed little surprise, giving way to the lie.

  “Hello, Grand-Père. You know me, I had to get to the bottom of things myself, once I heard about Master Chalfant’s untimely demise,” Jax replied smugly, alluding to her grandfather knowing her history of unraveling any puzzle put before her. “I was just listening to Hendrie’s account of the evening’s activities. The young lad states he was with Lord Pettraud all night, so of course, we can immediately clear him of any wrongdoing.”

  Duke Mensina raised his bushy gray eyebrows mockingly. “All night?” He clasped his hands behinds his back. “Tell me, valet, what time did you depart Lord Pettraud’s suite for the evening?”