Secret Heart (12 page)

“
He did?”
Jenia was baffled, for she hadn’t been told that Garit had sent
ahead to warn his people to expect a female guest. She had assumed
he wouldn’t want anyone to know in advance what they were doing,
because their plan of presenting her as Chantal depended on taking
everyone at court by surprise. Both Roarke and Garit had told her
they didn’t want word of Chantal’s mysterious resurrection to reach
Calean City before they did.

“
Last
year,” the maid said, “as soon as the remodeling work in this
chamber was completed, Lord Garit brought gowns and linens and
everything else a lady could want. He gave me orders to keep all of
the clothes ready for the arrival of an important lady. You must be
the lady, for no other noblewoman has come here since he took
control of Auremont. Look here, Lady Jenia. Just see what he’s done
for you.”

The maid
opened the clothing chest, lifting the lid to reveal neatly folded
silks and linens and the glitter of gold threads on a sash. The
scent of lavender reached Jenia’s nose, bringing with it memories
too painful to bear. With the memories came guilt. She did not
belong at Auremont. Jenia covered her face with both hands and
turned away.

“
My
lady?” the maid said, still carefully lifting the clothing out of
the chest, spreading green and bronze and copper-colored silk
dresses and snowy linen undergarments on the bed, smoothing the
wrinkles away with deft hands. “Will you choose one of these
gowns?”

“
Yes,”
Jenia said, aware of how her voice cracked from the emotions she
must keep hidden. “But later, after I have bathed and rested for a
time.”

“
Of
course. You’ve had a long day in the saddle, haven’t you? I’ll see
to the hot water and the tub.”

Left alone, Jenia went to the windows. The
view was glorious, the countryside all golden and green in the
early evening sunlight, with a silver-blue river winding around the
hill on which the castle stood and a tiny village nestled at the
foot of the hill.

Garit had
chosen well for his love’s private chamber. Any woman would delight
in resting upon the cushions while she gazed out the window. In
winter the tightly fitted shutters could be closed and the metal
brazier standing in one corner could be brought forward and put
into use to keep the room snug and warm.

Last year,
the maid had said. It was clear to Jenia that long
before she washed up on a lonely beach, Garit had intended to bring
Chantal to Auremont and had made every effort to assure her comfort
while she was there.

“
Poor
man,” Jenia whispered into the elegant, empty room. “How can I
possibly repay you for breaking your heart? What can I say to you
after you know everything?”

* * * * *

Jenia appeared in the great hall for the
evening meal garbed in a simple bronze silk gown that was tied low
over her hips with a sash decorated in heavy gold embroidery. Her
white linen shift showed at the round neckline and beneath the
loose sleeves. Her shoes were soft silk, embroidered to match the
sash.

She had
refused to wear a veil or the gold circlet the maid had offered
from among the feminine treasures in the clothing chest. A circlet
was the symbol of a woman’s rank and Jenia dared not reveal her
right to wear one. Nor would she allow her freshly washed hair to
remain loose in a maiden’s style. Instead, she combed and twisted
the heavy red-brown length into a single thick braid and secured
the end with a piece of gold ribbon the maid had found in the
chest.

She wore
no jewelry. There was none in the chest, and even if there had
been, she wouldn’t have been bold enough to put it on. She was
having enough trouble dealing with the scent of lavender that arose
from her borrowed clothing to assault her senses each time she
moved. The assertive fragrance sent her mind tumbling back to
another time, to joyful excitement followed by terror and by blood
and death. She knew for the present she must keep those memories,
along with the emotions they evoked, hidden from Roarke and
Garit.

She
reminded herself she needed only a few days more until she could
tell the truth to the two men, and to the rest of the world. She
would stand before King Henryk and his courtiers just as she had
planned, and she’d reveal the entire story and name the villain in
her loudest, clearest voice. For those revelations she would
certainly die violently and, she prayed, quickly. Then she could
rest in peace, her quest fulfilled.

The great hall was as harshly masculine, as
barren of embellishment, as the rest of Auremont. No colorful
tapestries warmed the stone walls and only a few banners hung from
the high ceiling beams. Jenia saw not a single storage chest in the
hall, nor any of the usual elaborate silver platters and ewers that
nobles ordinarily displayed on such chests as signs of their
wealth. The only gleam of silver came from two remarkably plain,
though well polished silver candleholders that sat upon the
linen-covered high table.

But the
linen cloth was spotlessly clean and the rushes on the floor were
fresh and sweet smelling. The men-at-arms and servants who stood in
the hall awaiting their meal looked to be freshly scrubbed. Jenia
wondered if they had been ordered to wash and put on clean clothing
in her honor. Looking around, she decided she could manage very
well without the brightly colored and sometimes garish
accoutrements that almost always decorated a nobleman’s castle.
She’d be well content with simplicity and cleanliness, and with
plain, properly cooked food.

“
My dear
lady.” Garit hastened forward to claim her hand and lead her to the
high table.

“
This is
my seneschal, Sir Ronal,” Garit said as a short, stocky man bowed
to her. “Lady Jenia will be staying at Auremont for several days.
She wishes her visit to be private, so no one is to gossip about
her presence here.”

Jenia
longed to tell Garit that he had just made certain her presence
would be discussed and gossiped about in spite of his order. All
any group of people, whether men or women, needed was a warning to
be silent on a particular subject and they’d start whispering and
speculating. She wished she hadn’t come to the hall, though staying
away would have been a great insult to Garit, who deserved good
manners and sympathy from her, not a rude guest.

She
decided that after Garit departed from Auremont, she’d spend most
of her visit in her room. The fewer people who saw her face, the
safer she would be. In fact, now she thought about it, she
concluded that she need not remain at Auremont for more than one
night.

“
Garit,”
she said as soon as she was seated between him and Roarke, “since
you have provided the lovely gown I’m wearing, and several other
gowns besides, I don’t see any reason for me to stay behind while
you travel to Calean City. You needn’t send back new clothes for
me. I can wear a gown from the clothing chest in my room. Why don’t
we all just continue on, together?”

“
If you
truly imagine the gown you are wearing will be acceptable at
court,” Roarke said, cutting off her eager suggestion, “then you
are a naive country girl. And
that
I do not believe, not for an instant.”

“
I like
this gown,” she protested.

“
The
color becomes you,” Roarke said. He lowered his voice and watched
her reaction with keen interest. “It’s a gown that Lady Chantal
would wear while she’s in the countryside. But, at court, her gown
would be heavily embroidered. Her hair would be elaborately coiffed
beneath a sheer veil and a jeweled circlet worthy of a great
heiress. Chantal would wear rings, bracelets, a necklace, earrings.
You’d be laughed at if you appeared before King Henryk and Queen
Hannorah as you are clothed at this moment, claiming to be Chantal.
No one would believe you, so our scheme to learn who is responsible
for her disappearance would fail.”

Jenia sat
with her head bowed, twisting her fingers together in her lap and
all but biting her tongue to keep from screaming at him that she
had more important concerns than a noblewoman’s dress and
jewels.

“
I
thought you’d know as much,” Roarke said. “I thought you’d
understand that to be convincing, you must appear in full court
regalia.”

She did know. Oh, she did. She could not
answer his argument because he was right. The only way to make the
courtiers heed her accusations was by seeming to be one of
them.

“
Well?”
Roarke prodded mercilessly. “Will you answer me?”

“
Perhaps,
if I could remember,” she finally said in a whisper, “then I’d know
you are correct and I’d agree with you. Since I cannot remember, I
will trust in your good judgment and do as you wish.” She couldn’t
bring herself to look at him because she feared he’d see in her
eyes how angry she was. And how frightened.

“
You
won’t have long to wait,” Roarke said. “Three or four days at most.
Be patient, Jenia.”

“
I will
try,” she said.

“
You will
be well occupied, so the time will pass quickly,” he told her. “You
will need to learn how to conduct yourself at court.”

“
I will?”
She experienced a sudden desire to break into wild laughter. Or
else, to weep with wild abandon.

“
While we
wait, I intend to teach you how to act as if you really are Lady
Chantal,” Roarke said.

“
You?”
She offered a last, feeble protest, aware as she spoke that she was
trapped. “But it’s Garit who knows her well.”

“
Garit is
overdue in Calean City. I will teach you what you need to
know.”

“
My
dearest lady,” Garit said when Jenia excused herself for the night,
“I will take my leave of you now, for I plan to start for Calean
City as soon as it’s light enough to see the road.”

“
Thank
you for everything you’ve done for me,” Jenia said, choosing
formality as a polite way of keeping at least a slight emotional
distance from him. She could tell by his tone and the look in his
eyes that Garit was thinking of her as his beloved Chantal. For his
sake, she could not allow that. He’d only be more hurt later, after
he knew the truth. After she was dead. “I am especially grateful
for the hospitality you have offered here at Auremont, my
lord.”

“
Oh, my
sweet.” Garit caught both of her hands and kissed them. “Surely you
know I’d do anything for you. I dare to hope that when your memory
returns, you will recall how much you mean to me and how tenderly I
held the dear thought of you in my heart during the long months
when we were separated.”

“
Don’t.”
She pulled her hands out of his gentle grasp. “Please, don’t. We
cannot be sure of anything. We don’t know what will happen in
Calean City.” Ah, but she did know, and the knowledge of what she
must do and of the pain her actions would cause him was greater
than she had expected. In the end, Garit would understand. She
prayed he would forgive her.

She
wasn’t at all sure Roarke would understand, or forgive. When Garit
bent forward to kiss her cheek, she noted the grim set of Roarke’s
mouth and the irritation on his hard features. Unable to face
either man for another instant, she bid them good night and fled
from the great hall.

Any hope
she’d held of avoiding the castle folk or Roarke by remaining in
her room was vanquished at midmorning. She broke her fast in her
room and had just finished braiding her hair when an authoritative
knock sounded at her door.

She
wasn’t surprised. She knew who it was before she opened the door.
Roarke brushed right past her and strode into the room as if it
belonged to him.

“
You have
a choice,” he announced.

“
Have I?”
she responded as coolly as she could. “About what?”

“
We
agreed that you will spend the next few days learning how to
conduct yourself at court.”

“
I did
not agree.” She expected him to ignore her firm statement, and he
did.

“
You have
the choice of lessons here, in your room, or else in the garden. In
so small a castle, they are the only two places in which we can be
assured of privacy.”

“
Auremont
has a garden?” She could not imagine what kind of garden it would
be. Plants that grew freely, in natural, colorful profusion, did
not suit a castle so severe and plain. “Roarke, do you by any
chance mean the kitchen garden? That won’t be private, not with the
cook choosing herbs, or the kitchen servants digging lettuce or
carrots for the next meal.”

“
Since
today is sunny,” Roarke said, extending his hand in an imperious
manner, “I suggest we take advantage of the fine
weather.”

“
I
suppose you won’t leave me in peace,” she said. “If I say no to the
garden, you will simply remain here and torment me in my own
chamber.”

“
So I
will,” he told her.

The chamber intended for Chantal, though of a
good size, was too small to contain Roarke. He took up all the
space, he blocked the light and the soft breeze coming in the
window, and his presence made Jenia think with quickened breath of
the bed that loomed behind him.

“
Very
well, then. Take me to the garden.” She heaved an exaggerated sigh
and walked out of the room ahead of him.