Page 37 of A Knight’s Reward

Or, there was more to her dealings with Crenardieu than a simple commission. One not evident in her shop—not hanging from a peg on the wall, or spread out on the worktable. What was she sewing for him that he didn’t wish others to see? Undergarments?

Laughter tickled Dominic’s throat. Rubbing his hand over his jaw, he managed to suppress the chuckle.

“What color of silk do you require?” Crenardieu asked.

“Blue. The hue of cornflowers. ’Tis the color of my client’s lover’s eyes.” Geoffrey’s lady wife’s eyes, actually, but Crenardieu didn’t need that tidbit of information.

The Frenchman smoothed a crease from his cloak’s sleeve. “I do not have such cloth in my stock at the moment. However, I can make inquiries.”

His bland tone implied he wouldn’t expend much time or effort searching. Disappointment ran like cold rainwater down Dominic’s spine. Still, he steeled himself against revealing his dismay to this merchant, who seemed as trustworthy as a ravenous snake. Glancing at his nails, Dominic said, “Never mind. Mayhap one of the other merchants in Clovebury will assist me.”

The Frenchman’s lips flattened. “Monsieur de Terre, none have the suppliers or the resources that I do.”

Dominic barely resisted a grin. As he suspected, the Frenchman didn’t wish to lose the potential sale. He wanted to know if Dominic could pay his price.

“My client is very wealthy,” Dominic said. “He is most determined to have the blue silk.” With a lazy shrug, he added, “If I cannot find what I want here, I will go to London.”

“As I said, I will make inquiries.” Crenardieu hesitated, one hand in the air, his fingers splayed in contemplative silence. “If I do find cornflower blue silk⁠—”

Dominic smiled. “I will be most grateful and in your debt. You may name your price, for I will pay it.”

“How shall I contact you? Are you lodging in the town?”

“Aye, at The Stubborn Mule Tavern.” Even as he spoke, Dominic tamped down unease. Crenardieu might send thugs to investigate him. However, ’twas a necessary risk, for he mustn’t give the Frenchman any reason to doubt he was a rich silk buyer. Crenardieu would expect a traveling merchant to lodge at the local tavern. “If I am not in my room,” Dominic added, “leave a message for me on the wooden board by the bar.”

“Very well.” Crenardieu gave an elegant bow that indicated, in its effortlessness, the high circles the Frenchman frequented. “Good day to you both.”

With a swirl of his cape, he walked out.

Silence, marked by the dust motes floating in the streaming sunlight, settled in the shop. Even Ewan, inside the house, seemed to have gone quiet.

Gisela stared at the doorway, her expression an odd blend of relief, regret, and… resignation.

“A charming man,” Dominic said, not bothering to suppress his sarcasm.

Gisela smoothed her hands over her gown. “A rich man,” she said quietly, “who has tremendous influence in Clovebury and throughout Moydenshire.”

He also has influence over you, Sweet Daisy. The thought brought a surge of blazing jealousy—and protectiveness.

“He is a client of yours?” Dominic asked.

Her shoulders rose and fell on a sharp breath before she nodded stiffly. “He pays well. As I am certain you have noticed, there is a great deal Ewan and I need.”

“You should want for naught,” Dominic growled, unable to keep the anger from his tone.

Gisela stood very still. He sensed her drawing herself up, hardening her will against memories she loathed to share. “At one time,” she murmured, “I had all I ever wanted. I have tasted heaven, Dominic.” Her mouth trembled into a smile. “If that taste, however wondrous, is all I am given, then ’tis enough.”

Tears glistened in her eyes. Sunlight fingered in through the window to play over her hair and the delicate curves of her face. How lovely, yet sad, she looked.

Swallowing down an anguished groan, Dominic wondered when she had tasted such joy. With him? With the man she’d married but then had grown to fear? Had the bastard cherished her and manipulated her into loving him, and then crushed her?

He could not abide such a thought.

Their gazes locked. Her wide-eyed gaze shimmered. How beautiful she looked, proud, alone, caressed by the sunshine.

Only a few spaces stood between them. Dominic stepped closer. He had to. He couldn’t resist the desire to touch her. He yearned to hold her in his arms and soothe the torment in her eyes.

He reached for her, ignoring the twinge of his healing ribs, his hands splayed to slide around her waist. Her head tipped back, while her body swayed slightly, as though to accept his embrace. She looked up at him, her lips slightly parted. For a kiss.