The girl was younger than Luciana had expected, no more than seventeen. Her face was streaked with dried tear tracks, and she was kneeling on old rushes that should have been cleaned out months ago. There was no cot, not even a blanket, and the smell from the chamber pot nearly made Luciana gag.
She approached the bars of the cell.
The jailer jumped up from his chair behind the desk. “You should stay away from her, my lady. She could be dangerous.”
“I’ll be all right.” Luciana noted two trays of food on the jailer’s desk. Was he eating both of them?
He poured wine into the second cup and offered it to her. When she declined, he offered it to Jensen.
“Not while I’m on duty.” Jensen frowned at him.
“Very well, then.” The jailer sat back down and resumed eating.
Luciana crouched down in front of the jail cell. “Are you all right?”
“I’m so sorry.” Rowena licked her chapped lips. “I’d heard that the Beast had killed my Dax, so I thought I would make his belly ache. I never meant any more harm than that. But it was wrong of me. Please forgive me.”
Luciana figured the girl was telling the truth since her father and the general had not suffered too much. “Have you had anything to eat or drink?”
She shook her head and cast a wary look at the jailer. “Yulissa sent me some food, but I wasn’t allowed to eat. Or drink.”
Luciana straightened and turned toward the jailer. “Are you refusing her food and water?”
With a snort he poured more wine into his cup. “Is she whining again? Pay her no heed, my lady. She is far beneath you. Besides, there’s no point in feeding her if she’s just going to hang.”
Rowena whimpered and a tear ran down her face.
“Have you been telling her that?” Luciana marched toward the jailer, her temper rising. “It is not your decision to make.”
The jailer gave her a condescending smile. “Of course, my lady. Either the old duke or the new one will be making the decision. But since she tried to kill them both, it’s a safe bet that she’ll swing.” He shrugged. “It’s better for her to know the truth, so she’ll have time to accept it.”
Luciana gritted her teeth as she motioned to the second tray on the desk. “Is that her food you’re eating?” When the jailer shrugged, she picked up the second cup of wine. “Jensen, will you go to the kitchens and bring back food and water for Rowena?”
Jensen hesitated. “I shouldn’t leave you alone.”
“I’m not alone.” She tilted her head toward the jailer. “And it won’t take you very long.”
“Very well.” Jensen headed out the door.
Luciana passed the cup of wine through the bars, and Rowena rose to her feet to accept it.
“Thank you, my lady.” She gulped it down.
“Do you have parents or family close by?”
Rowena shook her head. “Mama died from a plague when I was a babe, and Papa died at sea.” She hung her head. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved with Dax. I was just so happy not to be alone.”
Luciana sighed. How fortunate she’d been to grow up with the nuns and her four sisters. “Everyone in the kitchens is very worried about you. From now on, think of them as your family. They can give you good advice.”
“Yes, my lady.”
The jailer gave out a loud belch. “Beggin’ your pardon, my lady, but you shouldn’t fill her head with false hope. No way is she going to live.”
Rowena flinched, and more tears fell. “I’m so afraid.”
Luciana couldn’t let this girl suffer any longer. “I’m going straight to the library, where I’ll inform my father’s secretary that I have given you my word that even though you may receive some kind of punishment, you will not come to any bodily harm.”
Rowena’s eyes widened. “Can you really do that?”
“Yes.” Luciana turned toward the jailer. “And you, sir, should start treating this woman with respect.” She strode toward the door. “I’ll be back soon.”
She shut the door behind her and headed down the stone corridor for the stairwell that led up to the courtyard. Just as she reached the first stair, a noise behind her made her stop. Before she could turn around, an arm looped around her waist, pulling her back. Another hand pressed a strange-smelling handkerchief against her nose and mouth.
Panic streaked across her senses as she struggled to break the person’s hold. A swift kick backward elicited a muttered curse. A male’s voice.
The third assassin? She shook her head, trying to dislodge the handkerchief, but the drug crept into her senses. Within a few seconds the staircase blurred before her eyes and her legs grew weak.
Goddesses, help me! Her legs gave out, and everything went black.
* * *
When Luciana opened her eyes, she felt disoriented for a few seconds. Her head throbbed as she pushed away the fog in her mind. The assassin! Panic took root in her chest, but she quickly squashed it down. If she was going to survive this, she needed to keep her wits about her.
Where was she? Where was her kidnapper? Would it be best to pretend she was still unconscious?
She was lying on her back in a dimly lit place. Stale, musty air filled her lungs as her vision adjusted. A stone ceiling arched overhead. Hard stone beneath her. She stretched her arms and legs. No pain. No restraints.
She turned her head slightly to the right, her gaze following the arch of the stone ceiling till … good goddesses.