Page 70 of A Knight’s Reward

“Under the floor of my shop.”

“God’s teeth!” No wonder the planks had sounded odd in places. But, he’d assumed ’twas due to wearing of the floorboards and the building’s poor construction.

“When he first gave me the bolts of silk, he told me to keep them hidden to protect them from thieves. He reminded me of the many break-ins over the past few months.”

“He,” Dominic repeated. “You mean Crenardieu.”

“Aye.”

French snake! “How did you come to know him?”

She folded her hands, her fingers moving in a restless pattern as though trying to escape confinement. “One morning, he came to my shop. He said he had heard of my fine work and asked me to make some garments for him. I agreed. I had no reason to decline.” She paused. “Then, one evening, he returned with two bolts of blue silk.”

“I knew he was involved with the stolen shipment,” Dominic growled. “Something about his manner⁠—”

“I did not know at first that the cloth was stolen,” she said, words rushing from her lips. “I thought he had bought the fabric for a wealthy client. With his connections, he could buy any cloth he wanted.”

“True,” Dominic said, “yet surely you were suspicious. Silk is rare and costly.”

“Indeed, when I heard of the stolen silks, I had my suspicions, but I kept them to myself. I did not want him to know I distrusted him. I did not want to lose…” Her voice trailed off before she looked across the meadow. Her fingers moved with a more frantic rhythm.

“Lose what?” Dominic demanded. “His confidence? His patronage?”

“Nay.” Her lovely face tautened. “His payment.”

An exasperated cry tore up from Dominic’s gut. “Payment!” She had betrayed him out of greed?

Shocked fury threatened to overrule his rational grasp of the situation. While her admission sank into his consciousness, his heart rebelled. Avarice hadn’t blemished her soul years ago. Surely her moral fortitude hadn’t changed so much, especially when she was responsible for raising a child.

Moreover, the humble residence she called home and her worn garments contradicted all impressions of a greedy woman who spent every coin she earned.

“I know what you are thinking,” she said, her voice cutting his thoughts like shears. “You believe I acted upon greed.”

“That is, indeed, what I thought.”

Gisela’s body went rigid. His words clearly hurt her. “I needed his money, Dominic. From the first day Ewan and I arrived in Clovebury, I hoarded my income. Coin by wretched coin. Not an easy task, when I earned so little, but I had promised…”

Her words broke on a sob. He resisted the urge to reach out and touch her arm.

“Promised what?”

She thrust her shoulders back. He glimpsed rage in the watery gleam of her eyes. “—to keep Ewan safe. To do whatever I must to protect him.”

The discomfort in Dominic’s belly did an awful twist. “I… see.”

“Do you?” Her tear-soaked gaze fixed on him. “How can you possibly understand? You, with your fine clothes, coin to splurge on your every whim, and the friendship of a powerful lord. You want for naught.”

The desperate fury in her voice flayed so deep, he almost flinched. Aye, Sweet Daisy, I did want. I wanted you. Always, you.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she slashed the air with her arm, ordering him to silence. “You saw what my husband did to me,” she said in a fierce whisper. “The night he cut me, I made a vow. I swore I would die before I let him hurt me again.” She shook with the effort of her words. “Never would I let him kill Ewan.”

“What?” Dominic choked out. “Kill… Ewan?” Horror made him stagger back a step. “Why⁠—”

Touching anguish shadowed her gaze. She looked at him as she had long ago, with a bittersweet tenderness. “Ryle wanted to hurt me. To wound me… in the worst possible way.” She shook so fiercely, she looked about to topple over. Dominic caught her elbow and guided her back toward the tree. With a shuddered sigh, she leaned against the trunk.

When her head tilted back, her hair slipped in a golden ribbon over her bosom. Her chest lifted and fell on a tortured breath, and he fought the need to stare at her right breast, its grim scar concealed by her gown. How he longed to know every detail of the night Ryle disfigured her.

“Gisela, why would your husband wish to kill his own child?”