Lord Gawain's Forbidden Mistress. Carol Townend
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honest.
Yet he knew she was capable of evasion. When he’d met her last year, she’d not mentioned her sister, Morwenna—he’d only learned of the connection between Elise and the late Countess d’Aveyron after Elise had fled Champagne. Elise had kept him in the dark about her need to gain entry to Ravenshold, just as she had kept Lady Isobel in the dark. It was hard to look into her eyes, now turned so earnestly to his, and think her capable of serious deceit. Would she lie for her friend André? It was possible.
‘If I could, I would wash my hands of you,’ he said. ‘But I don’t think you would like it if I did.’
‘How so?’
‘When I approached Sir Raphael about the sword, he made it clear that because we are old friends he is staying his hand. You wouldn’t like it if I withdrew. You and Vivienne are likely to end up in the castle lock-up while your lute-player does whatever he deems necessary to make amends. And as you yourself say, the castle prison is no place for babies.’
Elise felt the fight drain out of her. Gawain was right, Sir Raphael would want to make sure of them. As Captain of the Guardian Knights he would be bound to hold Vivienne as a surety of André’s return. And in the meantime, Bruno and Pearl would be incarcerated alongside her. And since Elise would not desert them, so would she.
Quick footsteps heralded Aubin’s return. He ducked into the tent. ‘I found nothing, my lord. I went as far as the Madeleine Gate and asked everyone I saw. No one will admit to seeing anything unusual.’
‘My thanks, Aubin. If you wouldn’t mind waiting by the fire?’
‘Mon seigneur.’ Bowing, Aubin went back outside.
Gawain looked down at her, blond hair shining in the lamplight. ‘I shall give you the benefit of the doubt,’ he said. ‘For the moment, I think it best if you remain my responsibility, don’t you agree?’
‘Thank you, my lord.’
Gawain gave her a tight smile and took her hand. He hooked her arm around his. It was a familiar gesture, a possessive gesture. Elise was irritated to discover that it was also a comforting gesture.
‘I shall escort you back to La Rue du Cloître,’ he said. His smile twisted. ‘It’s a pleasant evening for a walk.’
‘Walking, my lord, again? Where’s The Beast?’
‘Back at the barracks. Elise, I give you fair warning, my men will be watching the house at all times. I’d hoped to spare you that, but after tonight you must see that I cannot shirk my responsibilities.’ He sighed. ‘It has to be better than the castle dungeon.’
Elise stared at him and saw in her mind the bars on those windows. It would seem they were to be prisoners after all. Still, she had to agree it was better to be hemmed in by Gawain in La Rue du Cloître than to be tossed in the castle dungeon. ‘I understand, my lord,’ she heard herself say. Even though, in her heart, she wished it was otherwise.
* * *
The shutter was open. It had been an airless, tiresome night. Elise had hoped a breath of wind would find its way into their bedchamber, but she had hoped in vain. Ever since dusk, Bruno and Pearl had taken it in turns to be fretful. No sooner had Elise shut her eyes than it seemed Pearl was crying again—and Pearl’s crying was surely loud enough to be heard in Paris. Sighing, Elise heaved herself up on an elbow.
Vivienne was sitting in a shaft of dawn light, feeding Bruno. Shoving her hair out of her eyes, Elise yawned. ‘I’ll bring Pearl over.’
Nodding, Vivienne bent over Bruno, but not before Elise saw the glitter of tears. ‘Vivienne?’
Vivienne sniffed. A tear splashed on to Bruno’s cheek. Vivienne’s face was pale, her eyes shadowed.
‘You’re thinking about André.’
Vivienne’s throat worked. ‘It’s been three days.’ Her voice was thick with emotion. ‘Three days since we last saw him and there hasn’t been a word. Where is he, Elise? Where?’ Another tear landed on Bruno’s cheek.
‘We must have faith in him. He’s not stupid. He told me—’
‘That he would put matters right. I remember what you said.’ Vivienne swiped her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘But how is he going to manage it? If he has truly been dealing with counterfeiters, do you think they’ll take kindly to him confessing that he’s lost that sword?’
Picking Pearl up, Elise came to the window and searched Vivienne’s face. ‘You know more than you have told me.’
‘No, I don’t. Truly. But I’ve been thinking. Elise, these past three days I’ve done nothing but think and if André’s friends—the players he told us about—if the players are the counterfeiters, what will they do when they learn the sword has fallen into the hands of the Guardians? They might hurt him.’
‘I don’t think they will.’ Elise spoke firmly, even though the thought had occurred to her too. When she had seen André in the pavilion she hadn’t imagined that three days would pass without a word. Three days. No message, nothing. Just a silence as ominous and oppressive as the August heat.
‘It’s possible he tried to get a message to us,’ Elise murmured. Pearl squirmed in her arms. ‘But with Lord Gawain’s men posted in the street to watch our every move, he might have been afraid to come near.’
Vivienne looked at her, eyes watery. ‘They’re still out there?’
Elise peered into the grey morning light. ‘Two men are leaning against the house opposite. And though I can’t see from here, I’m guessing that two more will be stationed either side of the door as they were yesterday. I think there will be four of them.’
She sighed, Gawain was nothing if not thorough and Elise didn’t like it. She really did feel as though she had been imprisoned. It didn’t help that every hour she had to listen to the tolling of the cathedral bells—every horrible note brought back the convent. Trapped. Trapped. Trapped. The bells, the rigid routine... She thought she’d escaped all that.
‘I suppose we should be grateful we’re not locked in,’ Vivienne said. ‘What shall we do?’
Pearl let out a wail. Elise handed her to Vivienne and waited until she had settled before she spoke again. ‘I’m going back to Strangers’ City.’
Vivienne jerked her head meaningfully in the direction of the guards in the street. ‘Will they permit it?’
Outside, Gawain’s men stood as still and solid as carved wooden pillars. Their expressions didn’t betray the slightest hint of fatigue even though they’d been there all night.
Elise pursed her lips. ‘Lord Gawain didn’t actually forbid me to return.’
‘No, but two of his men accompanied you when you went to buy bread yesterday.’
‘That’s true.’ Elise squared her shoulders. She wished things were easier between her and Gawain. If only she could trust him. No, that wasn’t right, she could trust him. Gawain would do the right thing. He always did the right thing. And that was exactly the problem. Elise wasn’t sure what André had done and she wanted him to have a chance to make things better. But the instinct to ask for Gawain’s help was strong. ‘It must be resisted,’ she murmured.
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