Page 113 of A Knight’s Reward

“There is a torch,” one of the men-at-arms said, pointing. “Mayhap they traveled before dawn? Crenardieu would likely have done so.”

“Any traveler could have discarded that torch.” His lordship motioned his men to continue on.

“Wait!” Gisela drew her horse to a halt and dismounted.

“Gisela!” de Lanceau growled.

She dashed forward and snatched up the object that glimmered with such vibrancy against the dirt: a scrap of blue silk. The bit Dominic had taken from Ewan’s sword. Of that, she was certain.

With careful fingers, she brushed dirt from the scrap. “Milord, Dominic dropped this.”

“How do you know?”

“He found this in my home. Proof that I deceived you.”

His lordship held her gaze. Instead of commenting on her admitted deception, he said, “Dominic dropped it on purpose.”

“I expect so.” Staring up at de Lanceau, she could not help but smile.

His mouth curved in an answering grin. “We will find him, Gisela.” He raised a brow. “Once you get back on your horse.”

Silently resolving to tuck the scrap into her satchel, she hurried back to her mount. “Aye, milord,” she said. “We will find him.”

CHAPTER 21

Dominic watched, anger and worry threatening to choke him, while Ryle dismounted and tethered his horse to a tree. Rage underscored each of Ryle’s movements. His face, which some women might consider handsome, looked flushed and taut with barely leashed fury.

Fear trailed down Dominic’s spine. What had made Ryle so angry? What had happened at Gisela’s house?

Finished counting the coins, the Frenchman shoved them back into the bag and pushed to his feet. He nodded to the London merchant. “The cloth is yours.”

The man gestured to his lackeys emerging out of the undergrowth. “Start loading the boats,” he said, heading down to the wagon.

Ryle stormed toward Crenardieu. Dominic stood utterly still, listening, anxious not to miss a word.

“Good morning,” the Frenchman said.

Gisela’s former husband scowled. Reaching into his cloak, he yanked out a flask and gulped the liquor inside.

“What is the matter?” As Crenardieu glanced over at his two lackeys securing their mounts, one of whom had injured his shoulder, he frowned. “Where is the man I sent to fetch you?”

Ryle wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “No man came to find us.”

“I sent him a while ago.” Suspicion in his voice, Crenardieu said, “Where are Gisela and the boy?”

Ryle drank again. “They got away.”

“What?”

Tremendous relief whooshed through Dominic. Thank God.

“She hit me with a bowl.” Ryle touched the back of his head and winced. “Gave me a lump the size of an egg. Bloody bitch!” he bellowed, his curse echoing out into the forest.

“Keep your voice down!” Crenardieu spat a crude French oath. “You promised me. You said you would watch them.”

His face an ugly red, Ryle said, “I did not expect her to knock me senseless.”

Laughter, smothered by the gag, tickled Dominic’s throat. Well done, Gisela. You are a warrior, just like our son.