help you, Mistress Llewellyn.’
Beth did feel safer knowing that he was at her side, despite his overbearing and disapproving manner earlier. ‘I will do so for now, Sir Gawain, but do not feel that I will acquiesce so easily another time,’ she murmured.
‘I am not such a fool that I have forgotten our earlier exchange, Mistress Llewellyn,’ he said, then changed the subject. ‘Now, tell me your opinion of our king’s temporary palace.’
Beth saw that they were heading through the crowds to that edifice and could not help but marvel at what the old king’s money had built here in Balinghem. The palace was in four blocks with a central courtyard. The only solid part was the brick base and above that were thirty-foot-high walls made of cloth on timber frames, painted to look like stone or brick. The slanting roof was made of grey oiled cloth and gave the illusion of slates. There were huge expanses of expensive glass windows.
‘One cannot accuse our king of tightfistedness,’ said Gawain drily.
‘Do you like him?’ asked Beth in a low voice.
‘What is there not to like?’ parried Gawain.
Beth would have argued that was not a proper answer, but Gawain had turned away now and was talking to one of the guards. Once inside, it struck her that he knew a lot of people as he spoke to several of those there. ‘How will you find the Cardinal in this great edifice?’ she asked, glancing about her at the luxurious fittings and the profusion of golden ornaments.
‘A messenger has been sent to inform him that I seek an audience with him.’
‘Then you know for certain that Wolsey is here,’ she said, her fingers reaching for Gawain’s sleeve as he led the way to a bench, flanked by flowering shrubs in pots.
‘Aye, it is not unusual for him to work from dawn to dusk on the king’s behalf whilst his Majesty and his court enjoy themselves.’
She nodded, having heard it was so from Jonathan, who’d had acquaintances at court.
Gawain was soon summoned to the Cardinal’s presence. His dark blue eyes held Beth’s for a moment. ‘Do not fret. You are safer here than alone in your father’s tent. Only a lackwit would risk harming you with so many witnesses present.’
Beth nodded, wondering why he should think anyone should want to harm her. She carefully arranged her skirts as she sat down and watched him cross the sunlit space with a loose-limbed stride until he was out of sight. Then she freed a pent-up breath and prepared for what she guessed could be a long wait.
The time passed slowly and she was seized again by that sense of unreality. She felt set apart from the folk who came and went in colourful costumes, like so many peacocks, jays and magpies, chattering and shrieking with laughter. Now and then she was aware of glances being cast her way and wished that Sir Gawain would return. There were questions she wanted to ask him, such as why he should have even mentioned his being considered a suspect? Could it be possible that he had cause to want her left all alone in the world so that she might depend on him? Well, he was mistaken if he thought that was so because she could look after herself. She rose and crossed to one of the windows and gazed out on the courtyard where the fountains of wine flowed freely. Some people had already imbibed too much and were staggering about and carousing in voices that made her wince.
‘Mistress Llewellyn,’ said a voice behind her.
She turned swiftly, surprised by the strength in the surge of relief she felt, collided into Sir Gawain and was knocked off balance.
‘Careful,’ he murmured, fighting against the sensations caused by the swell of her breasts against him. He found himself imagining their pale softness with their rosy peaks and forced himself to hold her off at arm’s length. Beth Llewellyn’s father had deemed him her protector; until he found her a husband, that meant he must keep faith, whatever temptation she put in his path.
Chapter Two
‘Let’s get out of here,’ said Gawain, seizing Beth’s hand and hurrying her towards the outer door.
Beth thought he looked grim and her heart sank. ‘What—what happened? Did the Cardinal suspect that I am responsible for my father’s death and will not agree to my leaving France?’
‘Why do you think I should have put such thoughts into his head?’ said Gawain, glancing down at her pale face. ‘Is it that you overheard my conversation with your father that day we met in London?’
‘No!’ she cried, tripping over her hem in an attempt to keep up with him. ‘Please, of your courtesy, Sir Gawain, if you would just slow down! Your legs are so much longer than mine and I cannot keep up with you.’
Gawain begged her pardon and attempted to set his pace to match hers. It was not easy and he was impatient to reach his tent, hoping he would find his man, Tom Cobtree, there. He must not be alone with her.
‘Why do you ask about your conversation with my father and where are you taking me?’ she demanded.
‘To my tent. If fortune is with me, then my man will have returned and we will have something to eat and drink.’
‘What of my servants?’ asked Beth. ‘And will you tell me exactly what passed between you and the Cardinal, as well as my father?’
‘I told the Cardinal the facts and deemed it necessary to inform him of my suspicions concerning your brother’s so-called accident.’
Beth took a deep breath. ‘My brother’s so-called accident! Are you saying that Jonathan’s accident was no accident?’
‘Did your father not speak of it to you? Despite his reluctance to do so, I had hoped that he might have done,’ said Gawain.
Beth stopped in her tracks. ‘He has not spoken of it to me. Are you telling me now that my brother was murdered?’
‘I suspect it was so,’ said Gawain.
‘I don’t understand,’ she cried. ‘And how is it that my father should have involved you in the matter?’
‘If you’ll allow me to answer one question at a time, Mistress Llewellyn, instead of throwing them at me like spears, I will endeavour to do so.’
‘Likening my questions to spears is an odd way of referring to two simple questions,’ she retorted.
‘I felt you were suddenly beginning to regard me as your enemy. Your voice was getting shrill.’
‘My voice is not shrill,’ she denied.
A smile eased up the corners of his mouth. ‘It was certainly not dovelike, but let us not quarrel, Mistress Llewellyn.’
That unexpected smile did strange things to her and she found herself answering it with one of her own. ‘All right, I will calm down, but you must understand how difficult all this is for me.’
‘Of course I understand,’ said Gawain, his smile fading. ‘I will answer your first question. I had the boat your brother purchased raised and dragged ashore at low tide. Holes had been drilled into the hull.’
‘What!’ She was aghast. ‘Who would do this and how did Jonathan not spot the damage?’
‘I can only believe that the plugs were loosely put back into place; once it was afloat, the water forced them out. I had recently taken charge of the yard where the boat was built and your father came to me in great distress, searching for answers to why a newly made boat should sink.’
Beth was hurt that her father had kept such important information from her. When he had introduced her to Sir Gawain back in London, she had believed him to be just a new customer. ‘So you are a boat builder, as well as a knight,’ she said.
‘I am no boat builder. I own land in Kent where I rear sheep, as well as a whole swathe of forest on the Weald. I supply timber to several ship- and boat-building yards at Smallhythe and Greenwich.’