told that Count Henry uses it as a storeroom.’
‘The babies are with her?’
Elise nodded.
‘Tell her...tell her I love her. And that I’ll be back.’ André’s expression was tortured. ‘I’ve done wrong, Elise, and I’m sorry that you and Vivienne have been dragged into it. I shall put things right and then I’ll be back.’
He reached for the slash in the canvas and looked at her, eyes luminous in the lamplight. His mouth tightened. ‘By the way, this could mean that Blanchefleur le Fay will have to find another lute-player to accompany her when she sings at the palace.’ Glancing at the entrance, he grimaced. ‘Someone’s coming.’
With that, André slipped through the rip in the canvas and was gone.
Elise stared frantically at the pavilion entrance, pulse racing. Was Gawain out there? With luck, André would be out of Gawain’s line of sight, running down the back of the tents. She wasn’t confident that the Guardian Knights—or Gawain for that matter—would give him the benefit of the doubt.
A distraction was needed. Noise, plenty of noise. Well, that was no problem for Blanchefleur. Elise took a deep breath and began to scream. She really put her heart in it.
* * *
The scream turned Gawain’s blood to ice.
‘Aubin, with me.’ Snatching out his sword, he sprinted to the pavilion. Lord, what a voice, it cut like a knife.
Elise was holding on to the central tent post, staring at a gaping hole in the back of the canvas. The instant Gawain stepped inside, the screaming stopped. Dark eyes looked at him.
‘You’re hurt?’ Puzzled, Gawain ran his gaze over her. He couldn’t read her, but she didn’t look hurt. The lantern gave enough light for him to see that her hair was neatly braided. Her clothing hadn’t been disordered in any way. She looked fine. Slightly flushed, perhaps, but it was a warm night. Otherwise, she looked fine. ‘Elise, what happened?’
She opened her mouth as Aubin raced in, panting.
‘Aubin, take a look outside. Round the back.’
‘Yes, my lord.’
When Elise touched Gawain’s arm, the temptation to cover her hand with his was strong. When she bit her lip, the temptation to kiss her on the mouth was stronger still.
‘Gaw—my lord, you will think me such a fool.’
Gawain looked speculatively at her. ‘What happened?’
‘A knife.’ She gestured at the tear in the canvas. ‘I was waiting for André. I...I didn’t expect to see a knife cut through the back of the pavilion.’
‘Did you see who it was?’
Her hesitation was brief, but Gawain marked it. ‘It could have been whoever forged that sword,’ he said, slowly. ‘But I don’t think it was. It was your lute-player, wasn’t it?’
She lowered her gaze, seeming to speak to the ground. ‘I...I am sorry, my lord. I think my scream scared him away.’
‘Don’t lie to me. You warned him,’ Gawain said in a cold voice. Sliding his sword back into its scabbard, he took her by the wrist. ‘Your lute-player must have noticed the extra patrols and thought he’d be clever. And you, Elise, you warned him. You weren’t the least bit afraid, were you?’
She swallowed and kept her gaze on the ground.
‘Elise?’
She looked up, eyes fierce. ‘Yes, I warned him. You would have had him arrested!’
‘Not necessarily. I merely want to question him.’
Grip firm on her wrist, Gawain pulled her closer, close enough for him to catch the faint scent of ambergris. ‘Did he stay long enough for you to speak to him?’ Her lips tightened. ‘Well?’
‘I... Yes!’
‘And...?’ Her mouth worked. She was frowning at her wrist. Gawain eased his grip. ‘Elise?’
‘Mon seigneur, André knows he has done wrong and he is sorry. He says he will try to put things right. He will come back when he has done so.’
Gawain clenched his teeth. He hated the way she had addressed him as mon seigneur. ‘You expect me to leave it at that? Elise, the lute-player—’
‘His name is André.’
‘André appears to have dealings with people suspected of trading counterfeit arms. Fraudsters. Criminals. He must be questioned.’ Gawain huffed out a breath. ‘You do yourself no service by preventing that from happening.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I had hoped to discover that you were not involved. But you have just admitted that you warned the man away.’ He frowned. ‘Elise, what am I to think but that you too are involved?’
‘Do you really think that?’
‘I would be failing in my duty if I did not consider it.’ Tightening his hold, he brought her close. ‘Elise, what have you done?’
‘Nothing, I’ve done nothing! All I want is for you to leave us alone.’
He shook his head. ‘I wish I could, but I can’t. Elise, what happened between us last year—’
‘Was a mistake.’
Gawain felt a muscle flicker in his jaw. ‘I hadn’t thought so. What I was going to say was that it had consequences. Pearl. Her very existence binds me to you.’
At her sides, Elise’s fists clenched. ‘I don’t see why, I’m not asking for help. You can forget all about us.’ She gave him a strange look. ‘Gawain, you can marry Lady Rowena with a clear conscience. If you are concerned that one day Pearl and I shall turn up at your gate begging for alms, don’t be. I wouldn’t embarrass you like that.’
A cold fist formed in Gawain’s belly. She dismissed their loving as though it had been of no account. It hadn’t been of no account, not to him. And she dismissed him as a father too, which was worse. However, he had to be honest, with his forthcoming marriage he wasn’t in a position to offer her much. He felt his frown deepen. She was distracting him, making him forget what he was trying to say.
‘Elise, this is no longer personal, it’s no longer just about Pearl. The discovery of that sword has turned it into something else entirely. It’s about the trafficking in counterfeit regalia. It’s about trickery and deceit. It’s about honest people being gulled into buying dross.’
‘Gawain—’
‘Elise, when I saw you by the market I thought simply to return you to your pavilion. You must see that has changed. I find myself embroiled in—in what, exactly? Are you and your little troupe part of a larger ring of counterfeiters? Is this how you really make your living? I need you to answer me honestly. What is the exact nature of your involvement with the counterfeiters?’
Her jaw fell open. ‘None. I have no involvement with counterfeiters whatsoever. How can you think it?’
He leaned in, caught the scent of ambergris and straightened quickly. ‘I don’t know you. I thought I did, but I don’t. You might be involved in anything.’
‘Well, I’m not.’
‘So I believed, so I hoped. But you must see that letting André get away does not put you in a good light.’
‘He’s gone to make amends! I told you.’
‘You believe that?’
She nodded vigorously. ‘André has a good heart. I’ve known him for years and he has a sweet, loving nature. I think that learning he was to be a father pushed him off course for a while, but I believe him when he says he will