His day was rapidly getting worse, Arthur thought acidly. First, there had been the attempt on his life - again. Second, his stubborn husband had arrived in Camelot without his permission. And, he hadn't told anyone about the poisoned cat not even the servants. He didn't know who to trust any more.
After disposing the cat's body in the garden, Arthur was more convinced of his uncle's guilt. He had offered refreshments, and Agravaine had declined. His uncle had also been in the parlour waiting for him, long enough to add poison to the food.
But again, why? Why did anyone want him dead? Were they afraid he'd remember something?
Arthur kept one of the biscuits and strode down to the kitchen. The typical noise came to an abrupt halt when he entered. He held up the biscuit to the cook, Mrs Miller. "Did you prepare these today?"
The stout, red-cheeked woman frowned. "Of course, my lord. But there was no powdered sugar upon them."
Her confusion appeared genuine, and Arthur pressed further. "And who brought the tea tray up?"
"I did, my lord. But I can't say as I know about that sugar. That would make the biscuits far too sweet, and I would never do such a thing. You aren't one to like your biscuits overly sweet, and-"
"That will do, Mrs Miller." Arthur could see her panic escalating.
"I'm sorry if you didn't like them, my lord. I won't prepare them again."
Arthur lifted a hand. "Did you bring the tea tray after my uncle arrived?"
Mrs Miller stopped. "No, my lord. I left it there beforehand, since I wanted to be sure it was waiting for your guest."
"Did you pour the tea?"
"Of course, not, my lord. It would grow cold otherwise."
Arthur's heart nearly stopped. The cups of the tea had already been poured upon his arrival. Was the tea poisoned as well? But then, his uncle had consumed a full cup. He relaxed a little. Likely he would have felt the effects by now, if that were true.
"Thank you, Mrs Miller."
Arthur departed the kitchen, his thoughts turning back to Merlin. He wanted to throttle his husband for coming to Camelot. The only thing worse than having his own life in danger was watching Merlin face the same threats. Arthur couldn't allow it.
If he had to tie him to a chair, Merlin would not attend the ball.
ooOoo
In the afternoon, Arthur boarded his carriage, intending to discover the meaning of the tattoo on his neck. He'd instructed his driver to take him deeper into Camelot, toward the Druid merchant shops. Arthur had armed himself with a revolver as a precaution.
He was so caught up in his thoughts regarding the tattoo, that he nearly missed seeing the druid man, striding down the street. Edwin Muirden.
What was he doing here?
Arthur tensed and narrowed his gaze upon the man. Though Edwin walked with quiet deference, he didn't believe for a moment that the druid was here by coincidence.
"Follow him," Arthur ordered the coachman.
Edwin had been here, the night Will was killed. Arthur was convinced of it, and as they moved further into Camelot, the overpowering smells evoked images of that night. Smoke and the exotic tang of spices ripped through Arthur's mind, sending him back.
Cold. It had been so cold that night, his breath sending clouds into the frosty air. He'd tracked Will, tracing the man's path back toward the river. Toward the ships.
Four men were arguing with Will, and one pulled him back, confining his arms. His lungs burning, Arthur had raced forward to free the man. A long blade had flashed in the moonlight, and he'd stared in horror as Will fell to the muddy streets.
Too late to save him.
A noise had sounded behind him and Arthur had turned, just as the knife cut him across his ribs, blinding him with pain.
The vision abruptly ended. Arthur's breathing was shaky, and his palms were damp.
"My lord?"
He gripped the edge of his seat and forced himself to inhale a full breath. "Yes?"
"My lord. I'm afraid the man's gone," the coachman apologized. "He went toward those shops over there."
Damn! He hadn't expected to lose himself in the memory, but it had come upon him so suddenly, Arthur had lost track of his quarry.
"Await me here," he ordered.
Though every instinct warned him not to pursue Edwin, Arthur sensed that the answers were close now. He would not let fear dictate his moves. Arthur felt for the revolver within his coat. "If I don't return in ten minutes, I'll need your help."
Though he didn't know where Edwin had gone, Arthur intended to question the shopkeeper. The heavy scent of incense assailed him when Arthur entered the merchant's shop. A woman lowered her head in respect before whispering to an elderly man. The man wore a grey beard, so long it nearly reached his middle.
The merchant greeted him, "My lord."
Arthur did not waste time in responding, but instead held out a small pouch containing some money. "This is for you, if you answer my questions truthfully."
The shopkeeper bowed again. "What can I do for you, my lord?"
"I am seeking a man called Edwin Muirden."
The shopkeeper exchanged glances with the woman. "I heard of him. Is there something I could help you with, my lord?"
"I saw him only moments ago, in the streets. I want to find him."
"If you want my advice, stay away from him, my lord. He is an opium eater. Very dangerous."
The mention of opium made Arthur recall the tattoo on his neck. He loosened his collar to reveal the inked skin. "Can you tell me what this means? It was done to me while I was on board a ship. I'm told it is druidical."
The shopkeepers expression turned curious."It is the brand of a criminal, my lord." The man sent a hesitant glance toward the woman, who kept her gaze averted.
"What does it mean?"
"It is for opium smuggling. If you are caught a second time, you will be executed."
A strange sense of finality struck Arthur. Now that he knew the tattoo was the same as the one given to his Uncle and Will, it made him understand why stolen shipment had even more value. The profits had involved smuggled opium.
But was his Uncle Agravaine responsible? He'd admitted that he'd travelled to Avalon with Will, but he'd claimed his own innocence, foisting the blame upon Merlin's brother and Edwin.
Arthur paid the shopkeeper and departed. As he returned to his carriage, he turned the events over in his mind. And he couldn't help but think that his time was running out.
ooOoo
Merlin hadn't expected to see Arthur so soon. He heard his husband's voice in the hall and saw him handing his coat to Aredian's servant. Tensions knotted Arthur's face, but he relaxed when he saw Merlin.
"What is it?" Merlin asked. Had Arthur changed his mind about acknowledging him? Was he planning to bring Merlin home with him? From the unsettled expression on Arthur's face, that didn't seem likely.
Arthur took Merlin's hand in his. "I'll tell you in private. Is your uncle home?"
"He had business with some associates this evening. He promised to return later tonight."
"You and the children are alone?"
"We have a house full of servants, and I'm-"
Arthur shook his head. "I'd rather know for myself that you're safe. I'll stay with you."
Merlin led him into the drawing room, his apprehension rising when Arthur closed the door. "There was another attempt on my life." He told his husband about the poisoned biscuits, and Merlin's insides turned to ice.
"I can't believe it. Who do you think would have done such a thing?" Merlin took Arthur's hands, as if to reassure himself that he was all right.
"It may be my Uncle Agravaine. He needs money, so he said." Arthur went to stand by the window. "Or there's another possibility, one I can't eliminate. Earlier today, I saw Edwin walking in the streets."
"Edwin?" Merlin frowned, turning the information over in his mind. "Why would he be in Camelot?"
"I suspect he was hired to kill me. Perhaps he was the one who attacked you in the gardens at The Great Dragon Estate, as well."
Merlin shook his head in denial. "I don't believe that. He worked for our family for years. He has no reason to harm either of us."
"He was there the night your brother died. And I do think he's connected with the attacks." Arthur closed the curtains, returning to Merlin's side.
"I hope not." Even so, doubt threaded through Merlin's mind, the fear that Arthur could be right.
"I also learned more about the tattoo. It was done to me in Avalon, and it's druidical, like Will's."
Arthur sat down, letting Merlin examine the back of his neck. "What does it mean?" Merlin's hands traced the swirling symbols etched in his husband's bare flesh.
"It accuses me of opium smuggling. And a death penalty, if I am caught a second time."
Merlin shivered, not wanting to think of such a thing. "But you're not a smuggler."
"No. But the ship I was on might have contained such a cargo. I can't be sure."
"But… such a journey. All the way to Avalon." Merlin's mind ran wild with visions of Arthur taken prisoner, of foreigners calling for his death.
"Don't worry. I've no intention of going back, for any reason." His voice caught Merlin deep within, like a physical cares. "Everything I want is right here."
Arthur stood, pulling his husband against him in a dark kiss. His mouth coaxed Merlin's into a battle of lips and tongue, forcing Merlin to yield against him. He clung to Arthur, falling deeply under his seductive spell.
Merlin shivered, fighting off the temptation. Although he ached for Arthur's touch, he'd made a vow not to let Arthur touch him until he acknowledge him as his husband. And already Merlin was breaking that promise.
"Arthur, I want you to stop."
"Why?"
"Because you're treating me like some lover, not your husband."
"You could be both," Arthur teased.
Merlin didn't answer his smile. Couldn't Arthur see how much it hurt, being forced to hide? It brought back the terrible memories of the last ball, where he'd been so humiliated by society. After all these weeks, Merlin had worked hard, hoping not to embarrass Arthur in a ballroom. He wanted to show Arthur that he could be a perfect husband.
Dropping a kiss upon Merlin's head, Arthur added, "This will all be over, soon enough."
"When?" Merlin bristled at his husband's nonchalance. Did Arthur think Lady Mercia's ball was merely a social engagement? To Merlin, it was much more - it was a second chance to prove himself. "I'm tired of hiding away… as if you're ashamed of me," Merlin insisted. "The gossip will think you're planning a divorce."
"That's a foolish thought."
"Is it? For God's sake, Arthur… we're living apart. And I don't even know if you'll ever let me in your heart. You keep trying to brush me aside."
Arthur gripped him tightly. "I won't risk your safety."
Merlin took a breath, "And if there was no danger? Would you escort me to the ball, and admit that I am your husband?"
Arthur hesitated. "I'f that's what you want. But you didn't appear to enjoy the last one."
It was the answer Merlin had feared Arthur would say. "If none of this had happened, you've never have brought me to Camelot. I'd be at The Great Dragon Estate, even now, the husband you never wanted."
He cupped Merlin's cheek. "It's not that I don't want you beside me, Merlin. But I won't watch someone hurt you or Tristan and Freya. My enemies are far too close now. You will not go out in public, and that is final."
Merlin's anger rose up, "If your enemies are too close, then why did you come here tonight? You've led them right to us."
Arthur said nothing, as though his husband had struck him. Merlin wanted to take back the angry words, to say he hadn't meant them. But it was too late. Without another word Arthur left.
Merlin clenched his waist, sobbing quietly. So many excuses. So many reasons not let him be with Arthur. Right now, he didn't know if his husband would ever acknowledge Merlin as the man he wanted.