‘I came to find you, and met him on the road,’ Cassian said. ‘He said you were going to be prosecuted for hitting that fool, so we, uh, came up with a plan.’
‘For Martin to object, and you to come in if that didn’t work. Why?’ The answer was all too obvious, but it still hurt enormously, churning miserably in his gut. ‘Were you – were you trying not to lose your wager?’
‘Oh God. No,’ Cassian said urgently. ‘Not at all. I wanted him to intervene because I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want to sweep in as the Duke of Severn come to rescue you. I hoped that he could make the magistrate realise that his corruption wasn’t going unobserved, and get you out oftrouble. I didn’t want you to owe your deliverance to me when it was all my fault you were in that position in the first place.’
‘No, it wasn’t. I hit that idiot.’
‘You were on that coach in the first place because of me. Because of my wager, and my foolishness, and my lies, and I’m so sorry, Daizell. I hurt you horribly, and I will regret it for the rest of my life. You have every right to be furious, and I know an apology means very little when I chose to act as I did, and you don’t have to listen if you don’t want to. But I’d like to explain myself if you’d hear me out.’
They were standing in the parlour, watching one another. Daizell’s pulse was thumping in an unpleasant thready way. He moved to lean on the mantelpiece. ‘You did hurt me. A lot. For abet.’
‘It wasn’t,’ Cassian said urgently. ‘That was how I got into the situation, but it isn’t the reason I lied. Please, could I – are you all right?’
‘Fine.’
‘No, you’re not. You’re awfully pale. Have you eaten?’
‘Not for a while,’ Daizell said. ‘The accommodations in gaol weren’t very generous.’
‘Sit,’ Cassian said urgently. ‘And, oh Lord, you want a wash, don’t you? Not to listen to me chatter. And your coat— Oh, Daize, this is all my fault. Will you let me put this right, for now? And if you want to hear me once you’ve had a chance to recover yourself, we’ll talk later and if you don’t, we won’t. But let me do something because you look shocking.Please.’
Daizell was painfully hungry, quite thirsty, unpleasantly aware of his dirt, and entirely exhausted after the battering of the last days. A prouder man might have refused anythingfrom Cassian, even so. Daizell was fresh out of pride, and he had empty pockets and nothing to his name.
So he nodded, and Cassian strode out into the hall, calling for attention. He’d learned. Or he was using his title; Daizell wasn’t sure and didn’t have the energy to care.
He was conducted to a comfortable room, and brought lavish quantities of food and ale, which he ate in a borrowed gown because his clothes, retrieved by Martin, had been taken for washing and his spare linen had been stolen in gaol. He ate alone while a hot bath was prepared, of which he made good use, scrubbing away the visible evidence of humiliation and misery, and then he slept because he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. He woke for long enough to devour another good meal, and slept again, and woke the next morning feeling at least physically back to something like normal.
That meant he was restive. In fact, he was on tenterhooks, because he was going to have to speak to Cassian and he didn’t want to.
He didn’t want to hear apologies, or explanations. He absolutely didn’t want declarations. He didn’t want any of it unless it came with something he was determined not to hope for, because hope was no longer something he could afford to indulge. The cost was too high.
He would have liked to take up his bag and leave, slip away quietly, but he couldn’t because he had nothing to wear. This was absurd.
He ate the large breakfast provided in a dressing gown and a bad mood, and then sat by the window, cutting very unkind profiles of Sir Benjamin Acaster for want of anything else to do, when there was a knock and Cassian came in.
He offered Daizell a small, uncertain smile. ‘Good morning. You look a little better?’
‘I feel better, for the sleep and the food. Thank you for those – I assume you’re paying; I can’t. I’d apologise for my undress, but my clothes have been removed.’
‘Your things will be ready by the afternoon,’ Cassian said. ‘Please command whatever you want in the way of food or drink or anything else. And I owe you fifty pounds. I know you didn’t take it before but I owe it to you and I’d like you to have it now, before anything else.’
‘What anything else?’
Cassian’s shoulders sagged a fraction. ‘I was hoping you’d talk to me, and let me talk to you. It’s up to you, but I wish you would. But please take the money first because I owe it to you and you earned it. You found my ring, and nobody else could have done that.’
Daizell took the note he held out, because he’d be a fool not to. This would at least replenish his wardrobe, and if he was sensible it would see him through the year. He intended to be sensible. It was about time.
‘Thank you,’ he said again, trying to sound a bit less grudging. ‘I don’t want to go over everything. I can’t see the point. But you didn’t have to come back, or rescue me, and certainly not identify yourself to do it.’ The Duke of Severn intervening to rescue a gaolbird Charnage: he wouldn’t want that story to spread. ‘So if you want to call it quits here, we could part friends?’ It sounded more hopeful than he’d meant. He hadn’t quite realised until he spoke that he did want to be friends, or at least to believe in Cassian’s friendship.
Cassian stood still, his eyes fixed on Daizell’s face. He swallowed before he spoke. ‘Is that what you want? To part?’
‘Wehaveparted. But it wasn’t how I’d have wanted to end things, and if you want to put matters on a more amicable footing—’
‘That’s not what I want at all.’ Cassian had gone rather pale. ‘I don’t want to end things. I didn’t come back to say goodbye. If – if that’s really what you want, though, if you don’t care to hear me out because you’re not interested, then—’
‘How can you not have come back to say goodbye?’ Daizell demanded over him. ‘What else is there to say? You’re Severn! I appreciate what you’ve just done for me, I truly do. But if what you’re going to say boils down to, “I’m a duke and I have to go back to my palace”, I’d rather we just agreed you have to, and didn’t go over it all. What’s the point?’
‘I am a duke, and I do have to. The point is, I don’t want to.’
