Grave Mercy (His Fair Assassin #1)(31)
“It would have to be very good to counter that,” Duval says.
"Well, for one, the French regent is reluctant to pay the fifty thousand crowns the king is asking for. But more important, the english king let it be known that he would put aside the negotiations and lend us aid if we would give him the four Breton cities the French still hold.”
Duval lifts his goblet and studies it. "Everyone has a price, it seems.” He falls silent a moment, then shakes his head. “I fear the age of kingdoms and duchies is coming to an end. France is eating its way through europe like a beggar at a banquet.” He leans back and fixes his companions with a considering gaze. “The French regent is doing her best to outfox our every attempt to join with our allies. The question is, is she simply being cautious and anticipating our moves? Or does she have specific knowledge of our plans?”
Beast and de Lornay exchange a look. “I thought we were the only ones who knew our plans, outside of the Privy Council.”
"Exactly,” Duval says, "Which is what makes it such a burning question. If someone is feeding our secrets to the French, it is one of Anne’s closest advisors. And now we must wonder if that traitor is the same one who called this estate meeting or if there is a second traitor we must deal with.”
They all digest this somber question in silence, then Duval lifts his goblet and drains it, grimacing at the dregs he’d forgotten in the bottom. “To bed, I think. we’ve an early start.”
They stand up and clatter out of the room, and I turn and begin making my way back to my own chamber. I had hoped to learn something that incriminated Duval. Instead, I have learned just the opposite. even when I am not present, his story is the same.
why, then, would he not discuss this in front of me? Unless he truly does not trust the convent? I bite back a sigh of frustration. Things would be much easier if I could just prove him traitor and be done with it. But no matter how I turn each word and gesture upside down, looking for hidden meaning and betrayal, I can find none.
We are up early and on the road before dawn. Duval has sent Beast and de Lornay on ahead. I know that he chafes at our slower pace, but there is naught I can do about it.
Recent rains have made the countryside wet and muddy, which further hampers our progress. As dusk falls, it becomes clear that in spite of Duval’s best efforts, we will not make Guérande by nightfall. Resigned, he turns off the main road and heads toward La Roche Bernard.
La Roche Bernard sits on a rocky outcropping overlooking the Vilaine River. Its greatest feature is the new chateau the Geffoy family built after their last castle had been razed to the ground in the first war of succession.
At the chateau, we are escorted to a great hall filled with rich, colorful tapestries and a roaring fire. A rotund man with sandy hair and beard leans in close to an elegant woman as if he’s hanging on every word she says. when the steward announces us, the woman pulls back and looks demurely into the fireplace, while the gentleman — the baron, I presume — rises to his feet and hurries to greet us.
“Duval! what a pleasant surprise this is,” Baron Geffoy says, but his face gives lie to his words. In truth, there is a harried look about him that has me wondering if Duval isn’t precisely the last person he wishes to see right now. "We are graced with all sorts of visitors from court. Madame Hivern is staying with us for a few days.”
Duval’s head snaps up, and his cold gray eyes zero in on the lovely woman by the fireplace.
The baron lowers his voice. “Being at court right now is too painful for her, as you well know.”
“So she keeps claiming,” Duval murmurs. There is an angry, bitter note in his voice that I have not heard before. I glance again to the fireplace. Madame Hivern sits with her head bowed, the very picture of pious contemplation — indeed, it is the same pose I adopt at the convent when I fear I have been caught whispering to Annith or Sybella.
“Baron, I would like you to meet my cousin Demoiselle Rienne.”
Geffoy smiles knowingly at the word cousin. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” he says. An unsavory gleam appears in his eye. “Please make yourself comfortable in my home, my dear,” he says. "Will you be joining us for dinner, Duval? Or are you too exhausted from your journey?”
Duval’s eyes are still pinned on Madame Hivern when he answers. "We would join you and hear the news at court.” Surely the woman can feel him looking at her. why does she not glance up?
Almost as if hearing my thoughts, she lifts her head just then. Although her charming expression never changes, her hostility toward Duval is palpable.
"Excellent! I will have someone show you to your rooms so you may refresh yourselves.” The baron leans in close to Duval. “I will be sure you and your cousin have adjoining rooms, mais oui?”
His vile wink has my hand itching for my dagger. Perhaps sensing this, Duval grabs my elbow and escorts me to the stairs.
My chamber is large and well appointed. I cast a longing glance at the immense canopied bed that I cannot enjoy for hours yet. I sigh with regret, then turn to make myself ready for the evening. As I disrobe, my mind returns to the baron’s unease at seeing Duval, Hivern’s hostility, and Duval’s tightly controlled reaction. Mayhap I will learn something of importance tonight.
At least the mystery of what lies between Duval and Hivern will provide some small measure of entertainment during dinner. I cannot help but wonder how much of Duval’s wish to dine in the great room has to do with her. even from far away, I could tell she is very beautiful; her skin pale, her hair the color of spun gold and dressed in an artful style. The elegant Hivern has made me exquisitely aware of every lesson on court manners and womanly charms I have missed.