Lord Gawain's Forbidden Mistress

by Carol Townend

  ‘One moment,’ she called, yanking at her gown.

  By the time Gawain had reached the door, she was just about decent. Her bodice was straight, and she’d managed to twist her hair into some semblance of a braid. Cheeks bright as a poppy, she looked confused. Lost. Briefly, Gawain closed his eyes. He knew exactly how she felt. His guts were in a complete tangle.

  ‘I don’t understand you,’ she said, waving in the direction of the hall. ‘This shouldn’t be happening. Tonight is your betrothal feast.’

  ‘I don’t understand myself,’ Gawain muttered.

  The latch rattled and Raphael put his head round the door.

  Raphael nodded briefly at Elise. ‘Gawain, I am sorry to interrupt your conversation with Blanchefleur, but I thought you ought to know that Lady Rowena is on the point of coming to find you.’

  Raphael vanished into the corridor and Gawain made to follow him. At the threshold he turned and caught Elise’s hand. ‘Farewell. I leave to meet Count Faramus of Sainte-Colombe in the morning.’

  ‘You go to discuss marriage settlements.’

  Gawain grimaced, he couldn’t discuss that with Elise. But there was one more thing he had to say to her.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘Elise, before I leave there’s something you must know. I am making arrangements for the deed of Le Manoir des Rosières to be signed over to you—life tenures for you and Pearl.’

  Her mouth dropped open. ‘I...I beg your pardon?’

  ‘One never knows what lies around the corner,’ he said softly, ‘and I will sleep easier knowing you and Pearl will always have a home. There are legalities though, documents to be signed. Since the manor is in Champagne, Count Henry will have to agree. Sergeant Gaston will bring you word when everything’s in order. If I haven’t returned by then, he will see you moved into the manor.’

  Pale as a ghost, she stared at him. ‘You...you are giving me a manor?’

  ‘You and Pearl, yes. Do with it as you wish. Your friends may go with you. There’s some income from the vineyards and peasants’ holdings. The steward will explain all in due course. For today I just want you to know. You may plan to move to the manor very shortly.’

  She rubbed at her temple. ‘What does Lady Rowena think about this?’

  ‘Lady Rowena does not know.’ Bowing over her hand, Gawain kissed it and followed Raphael into the passageway.

  In the torchlight, Baderon’s face was sheepish. ‘I am sorry, my lord, I tried to stop him. Sir Raphael was most insistent.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Gawain said. He was still reeling at the effect Elise had on him. One look, one touch, and he’d not known himself. ‘It was probably just as well. I had overstayed my welcome.’

  At the entrance to the great hall, Raphael stayed him with a gesture and lowered his voice. ‘I’ll be brief. I’ve news concerning André de Poitiers.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘A man answering his description was seen leaving Troyes on the Provins road.’

  A door slammed and a torch flared at the other end of the passageway—Baderon had gone back into the chamber.

  ‘Gabrielle told you this?’ Gawain asked. Raphael nodded. His manner was far too serious for Gawain’s liking. ‘Raphael? What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing’s wrong save that I need more men.’

  ‘You think Gabrielle’s source is reliable?’

  ‘Yes, yes.’

  Gawain clapped Raphael on the shoulder. ‘Well, as I am sure you will have worked out, I am bound for Sainte-Colombe tomorrow and it’s only a stone’s throw from Provins. You want me to nose around when I’m there?’

  Raphael’s face cleared. ‘If you wouldn’t mind.’

  ‘Consider it done.’

  ‘Thank you, my friend.’

  * * *

  Baderon came back into the chamber as Elise was gathering up Blanchefleur’s gifts. She wrapped them in her shawl—the night was so warm, she didn’t need to wear it. She was aware of Baderon talking, something about being pleased at how well their performance had gone. Understanding that this was his way of easing his tension and that no response was required, she let him run on. It was just as well that Baderon wasn’t expecting a response, because one thing filled her mind.

  Gawain had given her a manor. She couldn’t take it in. A manor!

  ‘It can’t be true,’ she murmured.

  Baderon was standing by the door, ready to leave. ‘What can’t?’

  ‘Lord Gawain has, apparently, given me a manor.’

  Baderon’s mouth fell open. ‘What?’

  ‘He’s given me Le Manoir des Rosières.’ She picked up her bundle and together they went into the corridor and out into the night. ‘It’s incredible.’

  Baderon took her arm and looped it companionably with his. ‘He wants you as his mistress.’

  She shook her head. Her heart felt heavy. ‘Does he? It could be his way of saying goodbye.’

  Flaring torches were set at intervals along the courtyard walls. They glowed like coals through the dark.

  Baderon patted her arm. ‘He wants you as his mistress. There’s no other explanation, chérie.’ He eyed her bundle. ‘You are used to receiving gifts, but let me assure you that counts don’t give singers manors simply because they hear them in good voice.’

  Elise struggled to find a suitable response. She wasn’t certain whether Baderon knew that Pearl was Gawain’s daughter. If he did, he would surely understand that the main reason Gawain was giving her the manor was to ensure that Pearl’s future was secure. She bit her lip as she recalled the heat in Gawain’s eyes as he had pulled her on to his lap—as he had peeled her gown from her shoulders. She didn’t like to think that Baderon could be right about Gawain wanting her as his mistress. She’d always thought that Gawain was too honourable a man to consider such a thing on the eve of his wedding. However, she had to admit that his behaviour tonight had been less than exemplary. And the gift of the manor was ambiguous.

  On the one hand Gawain might simply want to ensure that Pearl would always have a roof over her head. On the other—might she have misjudged him? Might he be planning to claim her as his mistress too? If so, he was in for a shock. It was one thing to conduct a liaison with an unmarried man, but one who was married? She couldn’t do it.

  ‘Baderon, Lord Gawain is going to marry Lady Rowena.’

  ‘He won’t be the first man to break his marriage vows.’

  ‘Lord Gawain is an honourable man. Every time I have met him he has behaved with complete honour.’

  Baderon’s head was silhouetted against the light shining through the windows of the house behind him. His soft laugh reached her through the dark. ‘Apart from kissing you at his betrothal feast, you mean.’ He paused and a moth flitted silently past. ‘How honourable is that?’

  Elise had no response, so they walked on in silence and the thoughts whirled through her brain, melting into one another in complete confusion.

  She—a mere nobody—was being given a manor. It was easy to summon an image of Gawain looking down at his daughter, gently stroking her cheek. The gift of the manor wasn’t merely to ease his conscience. Gawain had a strong protective streak. He wanted Pearl to be safe. She sighed. How wonderful it would be if he wanted her to be safe too. She wanted him to love her. She wanted it so much her chest hurt.

  And yet...

  Frowning, she glanced at her shawl—it was bulging with gifts. Small gifts. Tokens. Trinkets that were easy to accept. Sadly, Gawain’s gift—a manor!—simply served to prove how little he understood her.

  ‘I am not sure I want a manor,’ she said, slowly. It was too much. It would tie her down. What would she do with a manor? If Gawain truly understood her, he would know that she loved her life on the road. She wasn’t one to be tied down.
>
  Baderon looked askance at her. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Baderon, like you my life is spent travelling. I have freedom and I follow no one’s rules but my own.’

  ‘Our life is harsh. Elise, with a manor you’d never have to worry where the next penny was coming from. You would have a home.’

  A bat streaked out of the dark and vanished again. ‘Pearl is my home. My singing is my home. How would I sing if I was tied to a manor?’

  Baderon grunted. ‘You don’t have to spend the whole year there. Sing in the summer and return to the manor in the winter. Singing is a cold bedfellow on an icy January night. It would be better for Pearl too.’

  Elise walked silently, thinking. What would it be like to live in a manor given to her by the man she loved? Le Manoir des Rosières had been Gawain’s family home. Would she see him at every turn? She wasn’t sure she could bear it.

  ‘Baderon?’

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘What use is love?’

  Baderon stopped walking. ‘You ask me that? You?’ His tone was incredulous. ‘I should have thought that you of all people would have the answer to that.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Lord, Elise, you make your living from love. You sing about it from dawn to dusk. And you ask me what use it is?’

  She gripped his arm. ‘Tell me, Baderon. What is love for?’

  The pain in her chest was heavy, like lead. She wanted Gawain to love her even though he was marrying someone else. She wanted him to understand her. It wasn’t right but that was the truth of it. Why did she feel this way? She could never accept him as her lover, but she couldn’t deny that she wanted the gift of the manor to be because he cared. She wanted his understanding. Love—if that indeed was what she felt for Gawain—hurt.

  Baderon covered her hand with his. ‘Love is a great mystery, chérie, and that is its wonder. It’s useful.’

  ‘Useful?’

  ‘Singing about love puts bread and meat in the stomachs of the likes of you and I.’

  ‘Love hurts,’ she muttered. ‘It really hurts.’

  Through the dark, she saw him nod. ‘Assuredly it hurts, but the pain is irrelevant. You, chérie, are a chanteuse. And in my opinion one of the greatest alive today.’

  Elise blushed. Baderon, the famous Baderon, thought she was a great singer?

  ‘I am sorry you are in pain, of course,’ he continued softly. ‘But the pain merely deepens your singing. It adds colour and vibrancy to your voice. That day you came to find me, I noticed at once how your voice had matured. Your tone has a deep plangency—there were hints of it before, but now...’ his voice trailed off ‘...it is moving beyond words. You have a great talent.’ He touched her bundle of gifts. ‘It is no coincidence that you have received so many tokens today. I am not the only one to have noticed. Your experience informs your singing.’

  She peered at him through the dark. She couldn’t see him well enough to read his expression. ‘You’ve known all along?’

  ‘About you and Lord Gawain? I wasn’t certain it was him. Something had changed you. Your singing has always been good but recently—Elise, you would be welcome at any court in the land. You’ve had a baby. It wasn’t a great leap from there to work out that the baby’s father might be responsible for the richness of your voice. It was easy to conclude that the man must have been Lord Gawain. He’s been taking a particular interest since you arrived in Troyes. I take it Vivienne and André know that he’s the father?’

  Elise nodded. ‘I am not sure how many others know.’

  They walked on. The moon was rising over the roofs. ‘When I told Gawain about Pearl, I wanted to ask him how he would feel when others learned she was his. I knew it was a matter of time before word got about. However, once I learned of his betrothal there never seemed to be the right moment.’

  ‘I am sure you will be able to discuss these matters with him in due course. He wants you as his mistress.’

  Sighing, Elise shook her head and her hastily braided hair started to unravel. ‘That would be wrong, Baderon.’ They had reached the house in La Rue du Cloître. She put warmth in her voice. ‘Goodnight. My thanks for accompanying me tonight. I am in no doubt that it was your playing rather than my singing that was at the root of our success.’

  He shook his head. ‘Believe that if you wish, but I know the truth. Lord Gawain has put fire in your veins.’ Lightly, he touched her chin. ‘Don’t be downcast. He’ll be back.’

  * * *

  Elise had crept into bed. She’d been bursting to discuss the gift of the manor with Vivienne, but Vivienne was worn out with tending to the babies at all hours and it would have been cruel to wake her.

  She managed to contain herself until the next morning when Vivienne had settled on the cushioned bench downstairs and was feeding the babies. Dust motes danced in the light filtering through the shutters. Elise could hear the low rumble of voices—Sergeant Gaston and his men were talking outside.

  Vivienne followed Elise’s gaze and raised an eyebrow. ‘Those men are nothing if not diligent,’ she said. ‘Do they never tire?’

  Elise came to the bench. ‘You may have to get used to them.’

  ‘Oh?’ A bowl of apricots stood on the table. Elise took one and offered it to Vivienne. Vivienne shook her head. ‘I’ll have it later.’

  ‘Vivienne, I have news.’

  Vivienne went white. ‘You’ve heard something. André’s not—’

  ‘No. No. Vivienne, this isn’t about André.’ Cursing herself for her clumsiness, Elise rushed to apologise. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to worry you.’

  ‘Elise, you would tell me if you had heard something?’

  ‘Of course. I’ve heard nothing. I keep asking about the town and I’ll try again later. Someone must have seen him. He can’t simply have vanished.’

  Vivienne let out a great sigh. ‘Thank goodness. I feared for a moment that... Never mind.’ She brushed the hair from Bruno’s brow. ‘What were you trying to say?’

  ‘Something extraordinary has happened. Lord Gawain has gifted me his manor. I’m not sure what to do.’

  Vivienne looked blankly at her. ‘His manor?’

  ‘He has a manor outside Troyes.’

  ‘Le Manoir des Rosières, yes, I remember hearing about it.’ Vivienne’s brow wrinkled. ‘He’s given it to you?’

  ‘Apparently.’

  Vivienne’s eyes filled, she looked as though she was on the verge of bursting into tears. Then she blinked and bent her head swiftly over Bruno and Elise was left wondering if she had imagined the tears. Elise turned the apricot in her fingers. ‘He wants to ensure Pearl is not brought up as a vagabond.’

  Vivienne looked up, smiling. ‘If Lord Gawain means it, I am happy for you. It does sound as though he wants to ensure you are both safe.’ She hesitated. ‘Are you sure you can trust him not to change his mind?’

  ‘I trust him.’ Elise stared at the apricot, running her thumb over its downy surface. ‘Last night when he told me, I did find it hard to believe. After all, noblemen don’t go about handing out manors to their cast-off mistresses.’

  Vivienne’s eyes were sharp. ‘He didn’t cast you off. As I recall, you left him.’

  ‘Our arrangement was of a temporary nature.’ Elise smiled sadly. ‘We hadn’t signed a contract.’

  ‘It must have meant much to him,’ Vivienne said slowly. She touched Pearl’s cheek and watched as the baby’s hand opened and closed on her breast. ‘And I’m sure he wants to see Pearl safe.’ She looked up. ‘You understand what this means?’

  ‘Vivienne, I am not sure I can accept his gift.’

  Vivienne’s jaw dropped. ‘You’d turn down a manor? Are you mad?’

  Elise bit her lip. Lord, this was becoming more tangled by the momen
t. If she accepted Gawain’s manor, she would be able to house Vivienne’s little family in the hard times. If she rejected it... Heavens, in thinking about rejecting Gawain’s gift, she was only thinking of herself. She was being selfish.

  She stiffened her spine. ‘Vivienne, I need your opinion. If I accept the manor, it means that you and I will no longer have to fret about where we will spend our days if takings fall away. Gaw...Lord Gawain has said that you and André may take up residence there too.’

  Vivienne’s eyes widened. ‘That is generous of him. Elise, you should accept it.’

  ‘You sound very certain.’

  ‘I am. You cannot turn this down. Think of Pearl, if nothing else.’

  Elise let out a sigh. Vivienne was right. She had to think of Pearl. Anything might happen and it would be good to know that Pearl would always have somewhere to live. ‘You’re right, of course. I have to think of Pearl.’

  ‘Thank goodness.’ Smiling, Vivienne shook her head at her. ‘You had me worried for a moment. Will you go and see it soon?’

  ‘I imagine so.’ Elise stared pointedly at the bars on the windows. ‘There’ll be more space at the manor. And land. Lord Gawain says the revenues are to be mine. Vivienne, don’t you see what this means? We no longer have to worry.’

  ‘Elise, it’s your manor.’

  Elise felt her face fall. ‘You won’t come with me? Do say you will. I shall need both you and André.’ She spread her hands. ‘What experience do I have of running a manor?’

  ‘Elise, running a manor is not something I am familiar with either.’

  ‘I’d rather learn how to do it with friends at my elbow. I shall need help, and I’d like people I trust around me.’ Elise jerked her head in the direction of the street. ‘And helpful though Sergeant Gaston is, I don’t really know him. Besides, Pearl won’t be weaned for some time—Pearl needs you too.’