A Knight's Reward (25 page)

The anger inside her dissolved. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she slid her arm around his waist, drew him snug against her, and buried her face in the soft tangle of his hair. “You are, indeed, a most honorable knight,” she murmured.

His little body trembled on a sob. “I love you, Mama.”

“I love you, too.”

“Even though I opened your box?”

“Aye.” She kissed him.

Another noisy sniffle drew her gaze to Ada, who dabbed her eyes with her sleeve. “Look at me! I am blubbering like a babe,” she said, laughing.

“Come on,” Gisela said, giving Ewan one last kiss. “Let us tidy up these things.”

Together they gathered the items and returned them to the box. All but the tattered daisy-chain necklace.

“Mayhap it can be repaired,” Ada said, glancing down at the shreds in Gisela’s hand.

“I do not think so,” Gisela said. “’Twould be easiest to make another.”

“Easiest, mayhap,” Ada agreed, “but ’twould never be the same.”

The poignant note in the woman’s voice squeezed Gisela’s heart. Ada spoke true. Never could Gisela replace the love and memories woven into the necklace Dominic had made her.

After tucking her treasure box away, she went to put the daisy chain on the table, for she wasn’t ready to toss the bits into the fire. As she gently set the fragments down, a loud hammering started on her shop door. She jumped and glanced over at the panel that separated her home from her premises. Dread slashed through her.

“’Tis Dominic,” Ewan said, rushing to her side.

“I expect so.” She dried her clammy hands on her gown. “Yet, he does not usually knock in that way.”

Before, when he visited you, he did not realize you had de Lanceau’s blue silk. Now, he knows the truth. Dominic has come to tell you what to say when Crenardieu visits tomorrow—and reveal your fate
.

“I shall go with you to the door,” Ewan said.

Gisela shook her head, a dull ache spreading inside her. “Button—”

“Ye should stay ’ere with me.” Ada reached over to pick up the bowl of hazelnuts. She pushed the coins underneath, hiding them from view. She winked at Gisela.

Another knock sounded—more of a fist slamming on the wood.

Gisela scowled. Dominic had no right to demand her in such a way.

Oh, but he does. You are a criminal, Gisela. Quickly! Let him in. Do not make him even more angry with you
.

She stepped into her premises, shut the panel behind her, and hurried to the outer door. Her shaking fingers touched the top bolt. But, the tiniest flare of doubt made her hesitate. “Who is there?” she called.

“Open the door, Gisela.”

Crenardieu!

Oh, God, what could he want?

Dominic would be returning at any moment. If he saw Crenardieu, and believed she meant to betray him by handing over the silks to the Frenchman—

She had to turn Crenardieu away.

“I am busy at the moment,” she said. “Please return in the morning, as we arranged.”

Muttered voices came from outside, followed by a grisly
thud
—the sound of something hitting the door.

A man groaned.

The sound raised every hair on the back of her neck.

“Gisela,” came a hoarse voice.

“
Dominic?
”

“Do
not
open—” he yelled. His voice abruptly broke off.

Fear shot through her veins like hot, sharp pins. She pressed her ear to the rough wooden panel and strained to hear. “Dominic? Dominic! Answer me.”

“He is here, Gisela,” Crenardieu said. “Let us in.”

“What—Is Dominic all right?”

“
Oui
.”

A muffled roar sounded beyond the door—the sound of a man trying to call out—followed by a scuffle.

Worry compelled her to snap back the bolts, unlock the door, and yank it open, despite Dominic’s warning. He was in danger. The lethal tension outside oozed in through the cracks in the door, circumventing the barricade between them.

What was happening to Dominic? Had Crenardieu discovered that he was working for de Lanceau? If so, Dominic was in grave peril.

She dropped her forehead to the rough wood, begging for a clear mind, trying to ignore the frantic
thump
of her pulse. If she didn’t obey Crenardieu, what would he do to Dominic? She couldn’t stand here in her shop, listening, while the Frenchman’s thugs further wounded or killed the man she loved. The man she would
always
love, even if they could never be together.

However, if she obeyed the Frenchman and let him in, he might take the silk. He’d promised to pay her for the gown and cloak, but he could refuse to do so—and she had no way to force him to honor their agreement. His lips twisting into a disdainful smile, he would accuse her of conspiring with Dominic to entrap him.

Moreover, if she let Crenardieu inside, she had no means to barter with him for Dominic’s well-being.

“Gisela,” Crenardieu said, sounding impatient.

More scuffles.

“Who else is with you? What are they doing to Dominic?”

A tug on her sleeve. “Mama?”

Ewan stood beside her. His wide-eyed gaze slid to the door.

“Ewan!” Ada hurried up to them. “You
must
heed me.”

The little boy wrenched away from the older woman. “What is happening outside?”

Gisela seized his hands and tried very hard not to yell. “Go back in the house with Ada. Do not come out, no matter what you hear.”

“But—”

“Obey me,” she said fiercely. “Please.”

Again, he looked at the door. “Dominic is in trouble.”

“There is naught you can do,” she said. “You must be a strong warrior now, Button. Ada needs a knight’s protection.”

The woman nodded while turning him away from Gisela. “We will look after each other, all right?”

Harsh voices came from outside, followed by a loud
thud
. The panel jarred.

Gisela’s hand flew to her mouth. Surely Crenardieu wouldn’t order his men to smash down her door. He must know how much repairs would cost her.

“Crenardieu!” she shrieked.

Another
thud
. Wood cracked. The top bolt’s wrought-iron fastenings pulled away from the embrasure.

“
Mama!
”

Stumbling backward, Gisela pushed Ewan and Ada toward her home.

Thud
. A loud splintering sound. The bolt flew off and clattered on the floor.

“Crenardieu!” she yelled. “Cease!”

Another
thud
, and the main door lock broke. The lower bolt gave. The panel crashed inward, groaning on its hinges.

Crenardieu stood on the threshold. His furious gaze pinned Gisela where she stood. Behind her, the door to her house slammed.

The Frenchman stepped into her shop. With a sharp jerk of his head, two men followed, hauling Dominic along between them. Head drooping, he staggered. He looked barely able to walk.

“Oh, God,” Gisela whispered, unable to suppress a sob.

Wavering from side to side, he raised his head. A nasty, purpling bruise encircled his right eye. Blood dripped from his lower lip. The two men yanked him farther forward, sneering when he grimaced.

“Gisela,” he rasped, his voice eerily slurred. “Be . . . w—”

“Dominic,” she sobbed, starting toward him. “What have they done to you?”

Crenardieu flicked his hand. The thugs released Dominic. Wobbling on his feet, he straightened. He attempted to push his shoulders back, but the effort seemed too great. He dropped to his knees.

Gisela gasped and rushed to his side. She knelt before him, pushing matted hair from his face. With gentle hands on either side of his jaw, she raised his chin to look into his eyes. Sticky wetness dampened her fingertips.

Blood.

Tears blurred her vision. “Dominic.”

His mouth formed a weak smile.

“Why did they do this to you?” Anger gnawed the edge off her fear. “How dare you hurt him like this?” she said, glancing first at the thugs, then over her shoulder at Crenardieu.

“How dare I?” Crenardieu chuckled. “I had good reason.”

“What reason?” she said, even as fear numbed her. The Frenchman knew about Dominic’s mission. He knew Dominic intended to capture him and his men.

She held Dominic’s gaze, but his eyelids fluttered. She sensed him hovering on the edge of unconsciousness, and his internal battle not to surrender to the pain. His fingers curled into her sleeve, as if to stop himself from collapsing.

Under his breath, he muttered a few, urgent words. Fie! She could not understand him.

I love you
, she told him with her gaze, sweeping her thumbs over his stubbled jaw.
Dominic, how I love you
.

A soft rustle drew her gaze back to Crenardieu, who drew an object from his clothing. He held a rolled parchment, once sealed with wax. The seal was broken.

Sneering, the Frenchman unfurled the skin. “‘My dearest friend and honorable Lord Geoffrey de Lanceau,” he read in a scathing tone. “With utmost pleasure, I write to tell you I have discovered some of your stolen silks.’” Crenardieu’s sharpened gaze bored into her. “Imagine. He is not a fool merchant looking to buy silk for a client. He is de Lanceau’s spy.”

“How do you know he penned that note?” she said. “Someone could have given it to him.”

“Show her.”

A ruffian reached down, grabbed Dominic’s hand, and held it out for her to see. Black ink stained his thumb and forefinger.

“He wrote it,” Crenardieu said. “A bar wench at The Stubborn Mule also saw him writing it.”

Dominic mumbled again, louder this time. She stared down into his swollen face. “Tell me again,” she pleaded. “What?”

“Be . . . ware,” he wheezed. “R—”

The closest thug kicked him. Dominic groaned.

“Stop!” Gisela shrieked. “You have wounded him enough.”

The two men looked at each other and chortled.

More voices drifted in from the open doorway. There were other lackeys outside. Standing guard. Or waiting for instructions.

God above, she would fight them.

Easing away from Dominic, she rose to her feet and faced Crenardieu. “Why did you injure Dominic and bring him here? Is this your idea of a cruel jest, to mistreat a man so?” Her voice shook with rage. “Whatever you want from me, I will not cooperate.”

Crenardieu’s face twisted into a leer. “Really?”

“Really.” Despite the fear churning inside her, she glared at him. “If you want the blue silk, you will leave now. Dominic stays with me. You will not harm him again. Do you understand?”

Her body trembled with the vehemence of her words.

Crenardieu raised his eyebrows and laughed. “I do admire your spirit. Especially”—his gaze slid to her right breast—”after all you have been through.”

Her breath jammed in her lungs. Foreboding rushed from her scalp to her feet, leaving a ghastly chill in its wake. How did he know about her scar?
How?

With a pained moan, Dominic struggled to stand. “Gisela. Rrr—”

The two men yanked him to his feet, just as rough laughter carried from outside.

That laugh
.

It tormented her in nightmares. It woke her in the night. It wove into every glimmer of her dreams.

Oh, God. Oh, God!

Her breathing became a frantic wheeze. Bile flooded her mouth. An eerie whistling sound filled her ears.

“
Oui
, Gisela. I vow there is one man who will make you cooperate,” Crenardieu said.

She watched, paralyzed with terror, as a tall, silver-haired man stepped into her shop.

Ryle
.

Chapter Fifteen

His body racked with pain, Dominic registered being bound and tossed belly-down across the back of a stationary horse. Gritting his teeth so tightly his jaw popped, the sweetish odor of horse burning his nostrils, he stared down at the ground. Or, what would be the dirt and stones of the town road if he could bloody well see like an owl in the dark.

Fighting intense dizziness, he slowly inhaled and exhaled. After dragging him out of Gisela’s shop shortly after Ryle’s entrance, the thugs had tied Dominic’s hands behind his back. The rope bit into his wrists, mocking any intentions of escape. The bastards had also tied his legs—below the knees and at his booted ankles.

Anger burned. He welcomed the rage, fed it with every ounce of his remaining strength. He would break free from his bonds. He would knock the thugs’ heads together, and then pummel Crenardieu with the same enthusiasm his men had shown Dominic.

After dealing with them, he’d return to Gisela and rescue her and Ewan from Ryle. Like the knight Ewan—his
son
—envisioned him to be, he would be victorious. Never again would Gisela live in fear of her former husband.

He remembered the moment she saw Ryle. The utter horror that had filled her eyes and turned her face skull white would haunt Dominic forever.

I will fight your dragon, Gisela, despite his fangs, wings, and claws. Even if it means my death. This, I promise you
.

Regret lashed at him, more painful than the ropes binding him, for he’d not been able to spare her from facing the brutal bastard again. Ah, but he had tried. Spurred by a tremendous surge of fury, he had lunged straight for Ryle. Dizziness had slowed his reactions, and Crenardieu’s lackeys had quickly subdued him.

He couldn’t wait to trounce them in return!

Simmering rage and excitement burgeoned inside him. His mind spun with the sensation, akin to being drunk on potent liquor. A dissonant ringing sounded in his ears and threatened to drown out the conversation of the thugs preparing to ride.

“Keep watch on him,” Crenardieu said from nearby, followed by the
creak
of a leather saddle. The Frenchman had climbed onto his horse. “Two of you ride in front of him, two in back. If he tries to escape, knock him senseless.”

“Why not hit him now?” one of the thugs said. By his voice, Dominic recognized the dark-haired lout he’d confronted in the alley. The man laughed, as did his friends.