The Courtesan (52 page)

Gabrielle was hard-pressed to conceal her dismay as Henry carried her hand to his lips, his steady gaze never leaving her face . . .

Gabrielle winced at the memory of that awkward moment. How much of the king’s wish to dispatch Remy to Bearn was due to his unease over the escape plot, and how much to the desire to be rid of a rival? She still was not entirely sure. It had taken all of her charm and wit to retain Navarre’s faith in Remy, to convince him to go forward with Remy’s plans. Parisian gossip being what it was, Gabrielle only prayed that the king did not find out that Remy was now sharing her bed.

She did genuinely like and respect Navarre. Deceiving him was hard, almost as hard as concealing from Remy that his king was having doubts about him. But Remy already had enough to worry about, dealing with the practical aspects of the escape.

Peering out her bedchamber window, she observed him entering the garden from his early morning errand to gather his belongings from his lodgings. She had persuaded Remy to move into her town house. It only made sense, she had argued, but practicality had nothing to do with it. With all the dangers swirling about them, Gabrielle could scarce bear to let the man out of her sight.

As Remy strode toward the gate, the sight of her head gardener Phillipe’s tow-headed children distracted him. Phillipe had recently made arrangements for his son and daughter to be looked after by an aunt who lived in the country. Jacques and Elise were a forlorn pair, their small legs dangling off the stone bench, their eyes downcast. Another man would not have given them a second glance. But Remy hunkered down in front of the children, engaging them in some earnest conversation.

Elise shyly burrowed her face against her older brother’s shoulder. To Gabrielle’s astonishment, Remy straightened, raised his hands in a menacing gesture and let out a mighty roar. Squealing, the children leaped up from the bench and Remy pursued them around the rose bushes, still growling. Gabrielle gaped, leaning so far out of the casement, she was in danger of tumbling to the ground below.

Remy cornered the children near the hawthorn tree. He dropped to his knees, his hands crooked into mock claws. Jacques shrieked and brandished a stick to hold Remy at bay. Elise crouched behind her brother, wide-eyed and shivering with excitement. Remy flung back his head and emitted a roar worthy of a dragon.

Remy chanced to glance up and spied her at the window above him. He waved and cast her a grin that was endearingly boyish. She saw that she was not the only one who had been changed by all they had shared last night. It was as though years had fallen away from Remy, leaving him much younger. The sunlight glinted off his tousled hair and the chain visible beneath his half-open doublet.

He still insisted upon wearing Cass’s useless medallion, much to Gabrielle’s dismay. Remy only did so because Gabrielle had given it to him. He cherished the amulet as a sign of her love and desire to protect him, which in a way it was. But if Remy really knew how she’d come by the medallion, he would feel far differently.

No more secrets, she had promised Remy. She ought to tell him the truth, but she could not find the courage to do so. The love that had blossomed between them seemed too new to risk trampling it underfoot in a quarrel. Some night while he slept, she would see to it that the medallion went missing, then fashion for Remy some love token of her own to take its place. For now she refused to let anything threaten the harmony between them. She smiled tenderly down at her dragon and waved back just as Jacques poked Remy in the ribs with his stick.

The blow clearly caught Remy by surprise because he let out a startled ooff. Gabrielle pressed her hand to her lips to stifle a laugh. Remy staggered, enacting his part with a panache that would have done a strolling player proud. He flopped onto his back, growling and kicking his boots out in the throes of a dying dragon. Flinging his arms wide, he lay still. Jacques and Elise crept closer for a peek. When the children were within range, the dragon sprang back to life with another roar, seizing and wrestling them down on top of him. And yet what a gentle dragon her Scourge was, fearsome enough to delight the rowdy Jacques, but taking great care not to play too rough with little Elise.

Remy would make a good father. The thought caught Gabrielle by surprise and her hand flew to the region of her womb. She had employed every wise woman’s trick she knew to prevent getting with child by any of her other lovers. But she had taken no precautions with Remy last night. She could easily have conceived.

Rather than alarming her, the notion of giving birth to Remy’s babe filled her with wonder, made her feel all soft as though she were melting inside. She might give Remy a son perhaps, a little boy with sturdy limbs, tousled gold hair, and Remy’s brown eyes . . .

A knock at the bedchamber door roused her from her dreaminess. Gabrielle dragged her gaze reluctantly away from Remy. “Come in.”

Bette pushed into the room, the pert maid looking somewhat harassed. “Begging your pardon, mistress, but there is someone here demanding to see you.”

Gabrielle yawned and stretched. “Tell whoever is here to go away and come back later. It is hardly a reasonable hour for receiving callers.”

“But it is that Lascelles woman.”

Gabrielle fixed Bette with a startled gaze. “Cass? She—she is
here
?”

“Aye and insisting upon seeing you. She is below stairs with her maid and some brute of a dog that looks ready to tear the throat out of anyone who comes too close. The footmen are afraid to get anywhere near her. But I believe I heard Captain Remy in the garden. I am sure he could get rid of—”

“No!” Gabrielle rose hastily from the window seat. “I would as soon Remy knew nothing of Mademoiselle Lascelles’s visit. He would not approve of our friendship.”

“No doubt he wouldn’t, milady. She is a dangerous creature from what I’ve heard tell of her. Obviously she has come here bent upon some mischief.”

“And obviously you have spent too much time gossiping with Miri’s cat,” Gabrielle retorted. “Escort Mademoiselle Lascelles into the small parlor at the back of the house. I will be down directly.”

“Very good, milady.” But Bette’s sniff of disapproval showed that she did not find it good at all.

As Bette left to carry out her commands, Gabrielle made a hasty toilette, shrugging into one of her simplest gowns, bundling her hair into a fine net. Before she quit her bedchamber, she stole one more anxious glance down into the garden. Remy was still absorbed with the children. With any luck, he would soon depart on the errand to his lodgings. She could find out what Cass wanted before Remy returned.

This was not the best time for Cass to have decided to emerge from her seclusion. Not with Aristide and his witch-hunters prowling about Paris. If Cass’s family history and her connection with the Maison d’ Esprit were discovered, Gabrielle shuddered to think what might befall her friend.

Gabrielle hurried downstairs and headed toward the small parlor. To her annoyance, she found Finette leaning up against the door, her skinny arms akimbo as though she were guarding the entryway. Gabrielle winced as the slatternly woman’s sour odor carried to her nostrils.

“Mistress is waiting for you inside,” she announced as though it was Cass’s house instead of Gabrielle’s.

“I am aware of that,” Gabrielle replied coldly.

Finette plucked at the dirty folds of her dress as she curtsied. She regarded Gabrielle with that sly smirk that always made Gabrielle want to slap her. Gabrielle edged past the maidservant, making no effort to conceal her distaste.

She entered the room, firmly closing the door in Finette’s face. The small parlor was primarily used as a sewing room. It was simply but comfortably furnished with a worktable, a few stools, and a settle piled with embroidered cushions. The windows faced full west, affording excellent lighting for needlework in the late afternoon.

Cass waited near one of these windows, her dog hunkered down by her side. The mastiff attempted to leap up when Gabrielle entered, but he was held tightly to Cass’s side by a stout leather leash. Gabrielle drew up short, blinking in surprise at the transformation in Cassandra Lascelles. No trace remained of the recluse with the unhealthy pallor, often bloodshot eyes, and wild tangled mane. Cass’s hair flowed in soft dark waves over her shoulders, a plain gold circlet banding her forehead. Instead of one of those faded gowns that half fell off her thin shoulders, Cass was attired in a new dress. The design was simple, no full skirts, no farthingale, the wine-colored silk an excellent foil for her white skin and ebony hair. She wore no ruff around her slender throat, but a heavy silver chain disappeared beneath the embroidered bodice of her gown.

She stood erect, her head held high, a strange luster in her usually dull eyes. She reminded Gabrielle of the regal way she had looked when she had conducted the séance, unexpectedly strong and powerful. Her hearing always so acute, Cass did not seem to notice Gabrielle’s entrance into the room. She cocked her head to one side, her attention claimed by sounds drifting through the open window, Remy’s laughter mingling with the delighted cries of the children.

Gabrielle had been so eager to arrange her meeting with Cass in one of the more remote parts of the house, she had forgotten the sewing room windows were angled near the gardens. The realization made her as uneasy as the rapt expression on Cass’s face.

“Cass?” As Gabrielle stepped closer, Cerberus barked, but his tail thudded against the floor in a friendly fashion.

Cass smiled warmly, extending her hand in the direction of Gabrielle’s voice. As soon as Gabrielle came within range, Cass groped for her and wrapped her arm around Gabrielle in a strong hug. Even Cerberus licked her hand as though glad to see her.

Gabrielle returned Cass’s embrace and murmured, “This is a great surprise.”

“Not an unwelcome one, I hope.”

“N-no.” Gabrielle peered over Cass’s shoulder to the gardens where Remy was giving little Elise a ride upon his strong shoulders. She was relieved to see him moving farther away from the house, back toward the garden gate. Taking Cass by the elbow, she steered her out of range of the windows. “Do come and sit down. I will summon my housekeeper to fetch us some wine.”

“No!” Cass said sharply. She moistened her lips and softened her tone. “I—I mean no, thank you. I have been trying to conquer my old demon, avoid any manner of strong drink. I need to keep my wits clear, but it has not been an easy battle.”

She lifted her hand to display a marked tremor. Gabrielle clasped Cass’s fingers to steady them and exclaimed, “But this is wonderful. You are obviously succeeding. I have never seen you look so well. So strong and beautiful.”

“I will have to take your word for that,” Cass replied dryly as Gabrielle helped her find the settle. Cass eased down onto it, Cerberus sinking onto his haunches near her feet. When Gabrielle attempted to move away, Cass retained her grasp on her hand.

“There is no need to ask how you are faring. I can feel it. You are positively glowing. You and Captain Remy must be getting along well. Very well indeed.”

Disconcerted by how Cass was able to read her with but a touch, Gabrielle squirmed until her hand was free. A hot blush rose to her cheeks.

“Yes, things are going well. I have much to tell you.” Settling onto one of the stools, Gabrielle positioned herself near the windows where she could keep an eye out for Remy. As succinctly as possible, she told Cass all that had happened at the tourney, the decisions that she had reached.

Cass listened without interrupting, Cerberus’s massive head resting in her lap. She leaned against the back of the settle, absently scratching the dog’s ears. When Gabrielle had finished, Cass shook her head, a note of fond amusement creeping into her voice.

“So you intend to fly in the face of your great destiny and count it all well lost for love? Ah, my foolish Gabrielle.”

“Perhaps. But then again, perhaps I am being wise for the first time in my life.”

“And you meant to quit Paris without even saying good-bye to me?”

“Of course not. If you had not come here, I intended to visit the Maison d’Esprit and warn you about the witch-hunters, make certain you were all right.”

“Would you have remembered to do so? I wonder.” Cass’s hand stilled on top of her dog’s head.

“Certainly I would have,” Gabrielle said, surprised by the brooding look that clouded Cass’s features. “We are friends, are we not?”

“Yes . . . like sisters, so likely you will have guessed why I have come.”

“No, I must confess I am quite at a loss. You rarely leave the Maison d’Esprit and for you to risk it now when the witch-hunters have invaded Paris—”

“Bah!” Cass lifted her hand in a dismissive gesture. “I told you. Witch-hunters don’t worry me. I have had experience of them before.”

That experience had been horrible enough to scar any woman for life. She had lost her entire family. Gabrielle did not know how Cass could speak so cavalierly of such a dire event, but perhaps it was her way of coping with the grief.

Cass returned to stroking her dog. “I only came here today to redeem your pledge to me. The promise you made to do me one favor in exchange for your use of my ability to conjure the dead. You do remember, don’t you?”

“Certainly I do. I have long been anxious to repay you, especially if it involves helping you remove from that dreadful dungeon of a room where you keep hiding. Just tell me what you require.”

“Only one small thing. Nicolas Remy.”

“W-what!”

“Before you get too distressed, let me explain. I only want to borrow him for one night.”

Gabrielle was too stunned to say anything for a moment. She gave an uncertain laugh. “Great heavens, Cass. Whatever would you want to borrow Remy for?”

“My dear Gabrielle,” Cass drawled. “What reason would a woman have for wanting a fine specimen like your captain for the night?”

“To—to bed him?”

“Don’t sound so shocked. You are not some prim creature with a rigid sense of morals. You’ve had lovers. You can easily spare me the use of this one.”