Arthur returned to his father's house the next morning, his eyes blurring with exhaustion. He'd kept an all-night vigil in Aredian's study, leaving only when he'd heard Merlin's uncle returning. Damn his husband for not trusting in him. When all of this was over…
It was difficult to even imagine their future, they'd lived with the danger far so long. Someone had murdered Merlin's brother, and Arthur no longer believed it was because of the man's debts or stolen money.
Will had known something. Likely he had discovered the opium smuggling, but all records of the cargo and stolen profits had been eradicated. Somewhere, there existed a list of investors. And among them was the man he sought, a man who didn't want his involvement revealed.
Arthur sipped at a cup of strong tea, and only glanced up when his father entered the drawing room. Uther did not look well, heavy lines drawing down the corners of his mouth.
"Helena told me that man has returned to Camelot," Uther remarked.
"My husband, you mean."
Uther cleared his throat, adding, "He intends to accompany his uncle to Lady Mercia's ball tonight. I thought I should warn you of the gossip."
Arthur rose and went to stand by the fire, staring at the flames. He hoped that Merlin would abide by his orders and remain at Aredian's home where he would be safe.
"Thank you for your concern. But I have other, more pressing things on my mind than what the society are discussing." He stoked the flames, watching the sparks rise up. "I suppose you should know that your home is no longer safe. I was nearly poisoned yesterday."
Uther stiffened. "What do you mean?"
Arthur explained about the cat and the biscuits. He added, "I believe that whoever keeps trying to kill me is the same person responsible for stealing the profits from The Lady Valiant."
"Have you any suspicions?"
Arthur replaced the poker and shrugged. "A few. But no proof."
"Gwaine might be able to help."
Arthur looked up sharply. "Gwaine was involved in this?"
"He lost a great deal of money in the shipment. My money." Uther grimaced, muttering about his stepbrother's irresponsible ways.
Arthur no longer heard the words. Gwaine had mentioned financial problems, even teasing about Arthur's death. Had there been a darker meaning beneath it? He simply couldn't believe it.
"Where is he now?"
"I'm not certain. I thought he said he was going to pay a call upon Agravaine." Uther cleared his throat.
Though Arthur didn't want to imagine his stepbrother had any part in this, he could not take the chance. "I'm going to find Gwaine."
Uther crossed the room and set a hand upon Arthur's shoulder. It was the first time in many years that he'd shown any sign of emotion. "Be careful."
Arthur gripped his father's hand. "I will."
ooOoo
When Arthur arrived at his uncle's residence an hour later, he pushed his way inside.
"My lord, your uncle did not wish to be disturbed," a servant protested. "He was not feeling well today."
"I'm looking for my stepbrother Gwaine." Arthur strode past the servant, forcing the man to quicken his steps.
"I didn't saw him here, my lord. And I assure you, this is not a good time to intrude upon your uncle."
The servant positioned himself in front of the study, his black waistcoat stretched across a large stomach that threatened to pop off the buttons.
"Perhaps not." But had Agravaine eaten the poisoned biscuits, his constitution would have been even worse. "I must see my uncle."
Arthur forced his way past, which was no easy task considering the servant's girth. Eventually, rank won over. The servant would not dare to defy an Earl.
He tried the door, but found it locked. Knocking sharply, Arthur demanded. "Agravaine, open the door."
Silence.
He banged louder, to no avail. "Have you a key?" Arthur asked the servant.
The servant puffed out his indignation and his grizzled whiskers twitched. "My lord, if the master does not wish to be disturbed, then it is my duty-"
"Hang your duty. A man tried to kill my uncle yesterday. Now are you going to find that key, or must I break the door down?" The servant hesitated before another dark glare from Arthur sent him fleeing.
"What's all this about?" a female voice asked. His aunt peered over the staircase. Her dark gleaming locks hung in a state of disarray, her maid standing behind her with a brush.
Arthur inclined his head. "Forgive me, aunt Mary, but I must have words with my uncle. How long has he been in the study, might I ask?"
"Since this morning. He did not wish to be disturbed."
The servant returned with the key, and Arthur jammed it into the lock, twisting the metal. He shoved open the door. The study had been ransacked. Papers lay everywhere, books overturned.
And in the middle of it lay his uncle's body. Dead.
ooOoo
"Merlin, why aren't you ready?" Aredian opened the library door where his nephew sat reading. "Aren't you planning to show Lady Mercia and all the others that there were wrong about you?"
"Arthur doesn't think I should attend. He says it's too dangerous."
"Dangerous? Whatever is he talking about?"
Merlin confided the attempts on Arthur's life. "I haven't told you much about it, because I didn't want you to worry."
"Does he suspect anyone?"
Merlin nodded. "I'm certain that it's only a matter of time before he remembers everything. And I'm afraid of something happening to him."
Aredian met his gaze. "Yes, I suppose it is only a matter of time before all comes back to him." Then abruptly, his seriousness left, and he offered a broad smile. "But honestly, the only thing Arthur should be afraid of is of some handsome dandy trying to steal you out from under his nose."
Merlin braved a smile. "I wish that were the only thing."
"Come now. Do you really think that anything would happen, while you're out dancing? You're safer there than anywhere else. Go on, then, prepare yourself and meet me downstairs. Our carriage is waiting."
Merlin could see that his uncle wouldn't take no for an answer. Aredian shooed him upstairs, promising he wouldn't leave until he returned.
Arthur wasn't going to like this. But Aredian was right - what could possibly happen in the middle of a ballroom, amidst hundred of people?
Merlin finished preparing for the ball and went to check on the children. Inside his room, Tristan's arms sprawled over the edge of the bed, his other arm wrapped around a pillow. In the adjoining chamber, Freya rested in her crib. Her small hands were drawn up beneath her chin while her backside pointed skywards. Merlin could not resist smiling as he kissed the little girl's downy head.
Inside the nursery, Tristan had left toys strewn around the room. Unable to help himself, Merlin started to tidy the mess. He picked up a jack-in-the-box and set it upon a shelf. A row of books was about to topple, and Merlin straightened the stack. His gaze narrowed upon one of the books. It was one of the last gifts Will had given his son, a book of fairy tales. The book had belonged to their grandfather many years ago. Merlin traced upon the broken leather binding and then picked it up for old time's sake.
Flipping through the collection of stories about fairies, dragons, knights and princesses his fingers came upon pages that were neatly glued into the binding. His heart skidded to a stop. These were the hidden records, the ones Arthur had been looking for. Merlin studied them, wondering what was so important about the columns of figures.
As he reached the bottom of the page, he recognized names of at least a dozen ships, along with profits and losses. At the very end of the last page were the names of investors involved with The Lady Valiant.
One name startled him, but Merlin dismissed any suspicion of ill doing. He tore the pages from the book, tucking them into his waistcoat pocket. Tonight he would show them to Arthur, and perhaps his husband could shed light upon their meaning.
ooOoo
There was little point in trying to question his hysterical aunt. While she wept and clung to her maid, Arthur had searched through the mess of papers, looking for something that would lead him to the assassin. This time, a dagger in the back had caused Agravaine's death.
Arthur knew he ought to feel something about the murder, but a numbing chill had frozen his mind to reality. He found it easier to dwell upon theories and lists than the fact he had escaped death yet again. He shouldn't be alive now.
What did his enemies want? It had to be information, knowledge they believed he and his uncle possessed. They had ransacked Will's house and now Agravaine's study. They had not searched his father's house, however. A mixed sense of relief flooded Arthur when he realized his constant change in residence had likely protected the inhabitants.
Arthur sifted through another stack of papers, and he discovered a record of men who owed his uncle money. Though it was a simple list, he had not come across Mordred Knight's name before. Annoyance pervaded him when he thought of the man who had tried to court his Merlin.
Then annoyance shifted into suspicion. The threads interwove into a pattern that seemed a little too convenient. Mordred had continued to court Merlin's affection, even after he had told him of his marriage.
Did Mordred have anything to do with the murders? It made Arthur wonder how many others he'd missed.
With a glance at his timepiece, Arthur saw that it was growing far later than he'd imagined. The authorities had arrived, and after answering a few questions, Arthur excused himself to attend Lady Mercia's ball.
Mordred Knight might be there. And if he was, Arthur intended to find out what he knew.