The Forgiven Duke (A Forgotten Castles Novel) by Jamie Carie Page B

considering.
    Gabriel pounced on the moment. “If I could find out what her parents are really looking for. If we could”—Gabriel lifted an elegant hand and moved it to encompass the regent—“we could help Alexandria find her parents if, God willing, they are still alive. You would do anything to bring your dear mother back, would you not? Think of it, Highness. Alexandria is like that, doing anything to bring both her precious parents home—safe and alive. And,” Gabriel nodded sideways, “we might find what this thing is that means so much to Spain. It would be good to know, don’t you think?”
    The regent’s face hardened from compassion for Alexandria to determined ambition. “Yes, I think so.” He rose, looking at the butler and giving quick instructions.
    Gabriel hoped Hanson got it all.
    When the regent left, Gabriel read the note.
    Meet him at St. James Palace tomorrow at noon. He will show you the part of the manuscript they have.
    Gabriel took a deep, shaky breath. He was walking on water now. There would be no turning back from this day’s work, and if things didn’t go well, if this alignment with the regent turned sour on him, well. . . . He put his fingers inside his cravat and pulled it away from his neck.

Chapter Seven
    T he story of Tomas’s rescue spread through Reykjavik like the flow of lava from one of their many volcanoes. An outpouring of love and support for the Magnusson family and admiration for the smart, pretty Lady Featherstone swept through the inn with days of visiting and celebration. Tomas’s leg was broken, but the doctor said it was a clean break that would heal and not the crushed bone that would make him lame for the rest of his life.
    All rejoiced at this news, especially Tomas. He lay propped up by various pillows on the cushioned bench in the main room, receiving his visitors and their gifts of toys and sweets like a young prince. He had been so afraid, pale and weak after two days without nourishment, but now the color was back in his cheeks. His mother hovered, tears in her eyes much of the time, making certain her son had anything he could think to ask for.
    As for Alex, she was treated like a heroine, a personage of awe, an angel some even called her. As the townsfolk visited with the Magnussons, they spent a few moments ogling and thanking the young sleuth from England and her handsome Irish fiancé.
    Even now the room had two families visiting. Alex looked down at the pretty little girl who had come in with her parents to visit Tomas and saw her staring wide-eyed in wonderment. Alex smiled encouragingly at her. The girl took a couple of skipping steps nearer and smiled back.
    “What’s your name?” Alex asked.
    “Asa.” She smiled up at Alex, revealing two missing front teeth. “And you’re Lady Featherstone. I like your name.”
    “Thank you, Asa. I like your name as well.”
    The little girl reached out and took ahold of Alex’s hand, swinging it a few times, her face nearly bursting with shy excitement. The girl’s mother was talking to Ana and another girl, Asa’s older sister, stood beside her, darting glances at Tomas. The mother was wearing what Ana had explained to Alex was a spaðafaldur cap, and it still gave Alex a start when she saw it, it seemed so odd.
    The woolen cap fit snugly on the woman’s head with a flat, white tail of sorts that had been stiffened somehow and came up and over her head toward her face. Her dress was quite beautiful though, black wool with a few horizontal blue stripes on the bottom. The bodice was red wool that had wide, embroidered ribbons crisscrossing from the waist to the neck. Around the neck was a circular ruff that made a pretty frame for the lady’s face.
    The other women in the room wore similar dresses but less formal hats. Alex liked the tail-cap, a simple woolen cap with a long silk tassel. Ana had jumped at the chance to knit one for her when she’d admired one aloud, and the man’s striped