Lord Gawain's Forbidden Mistress

by Carol Townend

  ‘I am not comfortable, and I am sure your horse is not. I am practically sitting on his neck!’

  ‘The Beast has carried worse burdens.’

  ‘My lord, please put me down. If you must accompany me back to the pavilion, I am perfectly capable of walking beside you.’

  His thumb shifted against her ribs in an ambiguous movement that might or might not have been a caress. ‘Later.’

  Spurs jangled as he kicked his destrier’s flanks and they lurched into motion.

  Blessed Mother, Elise prayed. Don’t let him discover that he is Pearl’s father.

  ‘Relax,’ Gawain murmured, as they rode through the Preize Gate.

  There were smiles and raised eyebrows from the guards as they went under the arch, but to Elise’s amazement no ribald remarks. At least none that she heard. The guards were probably too clever to risk saying anything disrespectful before the Count of Meaux. Elise glanced up at him through her eyelashes and wondered what the men would say once they’d ridden out of earshot.

  The horse walked on. Elise put an arm about Gawain’s waist and clung to his belt. He brushed back her veil.

  ‘Wretch,’ she muttered. However, she was grateful the horse was walking. It would be even more embarrassing if she had to try to stay on when he was trotting. Gawain’s arm was firm about her body. Secure. She was grateful for that too. His arm felt strong. Last year, she’d taken comfort in his strength. How could she have forgotten?

  With a start, she realised that she was enjoying being in Gawain’s arms; she was enjoying being able to look up at him like this. Which wasn’t good because being close to him was distracting her from planning what to say when they reached the pavilion. She kept her gaze fixed rigidly on the forest of tents in the distance.

  His thumb moved again. It was a caress, she was sure of it. A caress.

  His white linen tunic had an open neck. His skin was bronzed, his chest broad. The temptation to rest her head against that chest was overwhelming.

  She frowned.

  ‘Elise?’

  ‘This is a bad idea. A very bad idea.’

  He studied her. ‘If you dislike it that much, you may walk alongside.’

  Her fingers curled round his belt. She shrugged and gave a tragic sigh. ‘It’s too late. My lord, we are almost at the camp. My reputation is already in tatters.’

  * * *

  There was a little awkwardness when they first arrived back at the pavilion.

  The babies were asleep under the awning and Vivienne was fanning them. She looked up when she heard the hoofbeats and slowly came to her feet.

  ‘It’s all right, Vivienne,’ Elise said, as Gawain helped her down. ‘You have already met Lord Gawain, I believe.’

  Vivienne nodded.

  Gawain walked over to the babies and stared down at them. ‘Twins,’ he murmured, lifting an eyebrow. ‘I expect they will be something of a handful.’

  Vivienne looked helplessly at Elise. It was clear she didn’t know what to say.

  Elise’s heart was in her mouth. She really couldn’t cope with Gawain discovering that Pearl was his daughter. It was far too complicated. She had to get him away from the babies before she or Vivienne said something that would give the game away. And she had to do it quickly. Acting on instinct, she took his hand and pulled him into the tent.

  Gawain was so tall that his fair hair grazed the canvas. He looked about with interest, gaze running over the three bedrolls, the babies’ cots, the travelling chests. ‘So this is how you live.’ He smiled. She didn’t think he had noticed, but he still had hold of her hand. ‘There’s not much room.’

  ‘That’s true.’

  ‘What’s it like in winter?’

  ‘When it freezes, we often take lodgings.’

  Just then Vivienne coughed and stuck her head through the flap. ‘My apologies for the interruption. This will only take a moment and then I shall leave you in peace.’ With a grimace, Vivienne gestured at one of the travelling chests. ‘It’s urgent. Bruno needs fresh linens.’

  Vivienne went to her chest, flung back the lid and burrowed inside. She threw a number of other things on to her bedroll, grabbed an armful of linens and went back to the entrance. As she lifted the door flap the pavilion brightened. ‘Thank you, I’ll leave you in peace.’

  Elise watched her go, biting her lip. She was racking her brains for something to say—anything that would distract him from thinking about the babies.

  Absently, Gawain rubbed the back of Elise’s knuckles as the flicker of disquiet he’d felt earlier hardened into a quiet certainty. Elise was uneasy about something, and it wasn’t just that she’d not expected to see him in Troyes. Was it the counterfeiters his friend Raphael had mentioned? He couldn’t think what else it might be.

  ‘When will André be back?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ve no idea. We shall have to ask Vivienne. Sometimes he—’ Elise broke off, frowning.

  Gawain followed her gaze and then he was frowning too. A sword lay on the bed, half-obscured by gowns and baby linens. A sword? Vivienne must have unearthed it from the bowels of her trunk and in her haste she hadn’t put it away.

  ‘Whatever’s that doing here?’ Elise freed her hand and picked it up.

  The sword had a leather scabbard that was black with age. It made a scraping sound as she drew it. The sword looked old. Antique. The blade was dull, but a large red stone flashed in the pommel of the hilt.

  ‘It’s very heavy,’ she added, looking at him. ‘Heavier than yours.’

  Gawain’s stomach tightened. After the All Hallows Tournament she had expressed an interest in his arms and he remembered explaining how damascened swords were forged. It shouldn’t please him that she remembered too, but it did. Sad to say, the pleasure of that memory was pushed aside by his growing disquiet. What the devil was this sword doing in Elise’s pavilion?

  There was a slight scrape as she pushed it back into its scabbard. With a shrug, she dropped it back on to the bedroll. ‘André told me he’d met up with a troupe of players,’ she said. ‘Old friends, apparently. They must have left it behind.’

  Mind working, Gawain grunted. He was trying to remember exactly what Raphael had told him in the Black Boar. A man had been arrested for attempting to trade a fake relic. No, not a relic, a crown. Raphael had also mentioned rumours of someone making a replica of Excalibur. They were thought to be attempting to pass it off as having once belonged to the legendary King Arthur. The idea had seemed so unlikely, Gawain had hardly heard him.

  Could this be that sword?

  If someone was about to fool some idiot into parting with good money for a counterfeit sword, Raphael would have to be told. Gawain couldn’t keep something like this from the Captain of the Guardian Knights, not when he knew Count Henry had asked the Guardians to watch out for suspicious goings-on in Strangers’ City.

  ‘I’d like to look at that,’ he said, holding out his hand.

  With a shrug, Elise retrieved it and passed it over.

  Gawain’s brows shot up as he drew the sword and tested the weight for himself. ‘You’re right, it is heavy. Clumsy.’ He ran his thumb along the edge—it was startlingly keen. ‘It has a surprisingly good edge.’

  Brown eyes found his. ‘Gawain, what’s bothering you?’

  He continued examining the sword. Trying the weight, shifting back to give it a swing. He looked at the pommel. Lord, that yellow metal looked very like gold. And the stone...

  ‘It’s a garnet,’ he said. He could hear the surprise in his voice. ‘A genuine garnet.’

  A crease formed on her brow. ‘It’s not real, Gawain. It can’t be.’

  ‘It belongs to some players, you say?’

  ‘André said he saw the players shortly after we arrived in Troyes. I can’t think
where else it might have come from.’

  Gawain stared at the garnet in the pommel with a heavy heart. The more he looked at the sword, the more uneasy he became. He couldn’t keep this to himself. It might well belong to a troupe of players, but Raphael would have to be told about it. He didn’t want to believe that Elise was involved with counterfeiters, but it was beginning to look as though her friends might be. ‘This sword doesn’t feel right,’ he said. ‘The balance is skewed and the blade is a horror, but because of the hilt and the gem it’s worth a fair bit.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘It can’t be! It’s a stage sword—just a prop.’

  He gave her a direct look. ‘A man might kill for the garnet alone. And if the hilt is gold...’ Gawain let the silence stretch out, well aware that what he was about to do would damn him in her eyes. Which was a pity. He liked Elise and he wanted her to think well of him when they parted. He shoved the sword back into the scabbard with a snap. ‘Ask Vivienne to step inside, would you? I need to speak to her.’

  Elise blinked. Gawain’s voice had changed. It was clipped and curt. Military. Thankfully he was distracted from Pearl, but he looked so serious. ‘Gawain, what’s the matter?’

  ‘I need to speak to Vivienne.’

  Elise searched his face. It was closed. Unreceptive. ‘Vivienne, would you come in for a moment?’

  Vivienne came in with the babies. Pearl was whimpering so Elise took her and draped her over her shoulder. Gawain looked so stern that despite the heat of the day, a chill ran through her.

  Vivienne glanced at the sword in Gawain’s hand. She bobbed into a curtsy, deposited Bruno into his cot and stepped forward with her hand out. ‘I’ll put that away, shall I, my lord?’

  Slowly Gawain shook his head. ‘I’ll hang on to it, thank you,’ he said, voice like ice.

  ‘But, my lord—’

  Elise rubbed Pearl’s back.

  Gawain took a deep breath. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Vivienne. ‘I’d like you to tell me what a sword like this is doing in your belongings. A sword the hilt of which is, if I am not mistaken, pure gold.’ An eyebrow lifted as he touched the garnet. ‘And this gemstone is genuine. The setting is really very good.’

  Vivienne’s mouth worked. ‘I don’t know much about it, mon seigneur. It belongs to a friend of André’s. I think he wants to sell it.’

  ‘And the name of this friend, if you please?’

  Vivienne stood there, opening and shutting her mouth. Elise put her hand on Gawain’s sleeve. ‘Gawain, there’s no need to bark at Vivienne. You’re frightening her.’

  He looked at her, eyes stony. ‘I’m merely asking questions.’

  ‘You’re frightening her.’

  ‘If she has done nothing wrong, she has nothing to fear.’ He turned back to Vivienne. ‘The name of your friend, madame?’

  ‘I...I’ve forgotten.’

  ‘How convenient. Do you think André might know?’

  Vivienne made a little moaning noise. Or it could have been Bruno, Elise wasn’t sure. Bruno was definitely stirring. A little fist was moving about in his cot.

  Gawain’s frown scored heavy lines in his brow. ‘What does André call himself when he’s performing?’

  ‘André de Poitiers.’

  ‘Do you think he will recall the name of the friend to whom this belongs?’

  ‘Most likely, my lord.’ Bruno started to wail. Vivienne looked distractedly at him.

  ‘Please continue, madame.’

  Vivienne made a helpless gesture. ‘Mon seigneur, n-no one here is bearing arms, so I don’t think we’ve broken any laws. I think André’s friend is hoping to sell the sword.’

  Gawain stared at her. ‘You are selling this sword for him?’

  ‘No, my lord. André’s friend is going to sell it. André is simply keeping it for a time. He put it in my coffer. To be honest, I forgot it was there.’

  Gawain made a sound of exasperation. Elise’s stomach was churning. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but it was clear Gawain suspected either Vivienne or André of some sort of wrongdoing.

  ‘Lord Gawain?’ Vivienne stepped forward, eyes anxious. ‘We haven’t done anything against the law, have we? All we are doing is holding a sword for someone who is going to sell it.’

  ‘Vivienne, this sword is extremely valuable.’

  ‘My lord, if it’s valuable, then André’s friend will get a good price for it.’ Vivienne looked questioningly at Gawain. ‘Where’s the harm in that?’

  Vivienne looked so confused that Elise felt herself relax. Whatever the reasons for the sword being in her coffer, Vivienne was clearly innocent of any wrongdoing. Gawain would surely see this.

  ‘There is no harm,’ Gawain went on, voice stern, ‘provided the buyer is not misled as to the sword’s true provenance.’

  ‘My lord?’

  ‘Someone might be tempted to pay more for a sword if they had been led to believe—for example—that it once belonged to King Arthur.’

  ‘The legendary Excalibur,’ Elise murmured, staring at the golden hilt. The garnet flashed blood-red, like the eye of a dragon. ‘Those tales are just stories. They’re not real.’

  ‘My point exactly.’

  Bruno let out a full-throated wail and Vivienne picked him up. Rocking him from side to side, she looked at Gawain with large, innocent eyes. ‘My lord, I know nothing about any legendary sword.’

  Gawain looked at her. The silence was broken by a wasp buzzing in and then out of the tent.

  ‘Truly, my lord, I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  Elise found she was holding her breath. Gawain’s expression was so serious, she hardly recognised him. And when his brown eyes fixed on her, she actually shivered.

  ‘When’s the lute-player coming back?’

  ‘André? I’ve no idea.’

  Vivienne shifted. ‘He’ll be back at suppertime, mon seigneur.’

  ‘Not before then?’

  ‘No, my lord.’

  ‘Very well.’ Gawain towered over Vivienne. ‘Is my squire still outside?’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  He strode to the door flap and flung it back. ‘Aubin! In here, if you please.’

  Aubin hurried into the tent and nodded awkwardly at Elise. Elise gave him a weak smile and listened as Gawain rattled off a series of commands.

  ‘Aubin, go straight to the Troyes garrison. Speak to Sir Raphael and to no one else. Tell him—’ He broke off, frowning thoughtfully at Elise. ‘No, that won’t do. Elise, you understand the Guardian Knights will have to be told about this?’

  ‘Will they?’

  ‘Of course. Vivienne will have to accompany me to Troyes Castle. The Captain of the Guard will want to question her about this sword.’

  Vivienne gasped and went white.

  ‘She can’t do that,’ Elise said. Stomach twisting in apprehension, she stared at the sword. ‘I have no idea why this is in our tent, but I’m convinced that Vivienne is not at fault.’ She frowned at Gawain. ‘I’m even more convinced that you can’t take her to the garrison. She’s a nursing mother. What about the babies? The Troyes garrison is no place for babies and she can’t leave them behind. They need feeding at all hours.’

  Vivienne swallowed. ‘Are...are you arresting me, my lord?’

  ‘No, I’m not arresting you. But I cannot pretend I have not seen this sword. You’ll have to explain it to Sir Raphael.’

  ‘Gawain, you can’t take her to the garrison, not with the babies.’

  Gawain looked at her.

  ‘Gawain, the garrison really is no place for a nursing mother.’

  ‘Very well.’

  Elise let out a sigh. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘However, I shall have to take Vivienne into safe
keeping.’

  ‘Safekeeping?’

  ‘She shall accompany me to my manor.’

  Elise’s eyes went wide. ‘As your prisoner?’

  ‘As my guest. Le Manoir des Rosières is only a few miles away. Sir Raphael can interview her there just as well as at the garrison.’ He looked at Vivienne. ‘Will that be preferable, madame?’

  ‘Thank you, my lord,’ Vivienne said, in a small voice. She looked so distraught that Elise’s heart went out to her.

  ‘Gawain, you can’t do that!’ Elise hugged Pearl to her. If Gawain took Vivienne to his manor, Pearl would have to go too. And if Pearl went so would Elise. She swallowed. She wouldn’t be parted from Pearl.

  ‘I think you will see that I can. Aubin?’ Gawain tapped the strange sword against his thigh. The garnet seemed to wink balefully.

  ‘My lord?’

  ‘Go back to the manor and tell Sir Bertran I need half a dozen horse soldiers to be at the ready.’ He measured Vivienne’s travelling chest and the two cots with his eye. ‘And ask him to organise a cart for tomorrow. Vivienne, do you ride?’

  ‘Not well, my lord. We have a cart. I usually travel in that.’

  ‘Pity. We need to be discreet today, so we can’t use your cart. We’ll have to get you and the babies as far as the Preize Gate. The rest of your belongings can wait until later.’ Gawain shot Elise a look. ‘After I have spoken to Raphael and André.’

  Gawain went on issuing commands. Something about borrowing a cart and a couple of guards from the garrison. Elise didn’t hear much of it, her mind was in turmoil. She held Pearl to her and all she could think was that Gawain was about to take Pearl from her. Heart pumping, she stroked Pearl’s hair. Somehow, she must stop him. Whatever happened, she was not going to be separated from her baby.

  ‘Yes, my lord.’ Aubin was repeating his orders. ‘I am to take a cart and some guards to the Preize Gate, where they will wait. Then I am to come back here and escort Vivienne to the cart on foot. With the babies.’

  Saints, Gawain was taking Pearl away and she could think of no way of stopping him. Elise’s head began to pound. For the first time it really hit home that since Gawain was the Count of Meaux, he could do anything. Against him, she was defenceless.