Grave Mercy (His Fair Assassin #1)(56)
"Which is why you and she are estranged.”
"Exactly so.” He sighs and runs his hand through his hair.
“Then why did you not tell me?”
“And seal their death warrant? Perhaps I am not as coldblooded in my pursuit of justice as you and the convent. Until I understood your full orders and how you would act, I did not dare tell you.” There is a moment of silence, then he speaks again “So, are they marqued for death by your god?”
“No,” I say. “Not that I can see.”
He lets out a long slow breath. “Then how did you learn of their plans?”
“The French envoy, Gisors. He not only tried to purchase my loyalty tonight but also warned me that once your family’s plans were known, I would be a pariah at court.”
Duval swears. “If nothing else, this should prove to you how badly I want Anne crowned duchess. Aside from the love I bear her, it is also the only way I can be certain my mother and Fran?ois will put aside their ill-conceived schemes.”
“But I have only your word that that is so.”
There is an impatient whisper of velvet as he leans forward. "We must call a truce, you and I. If we are constantly at each other’s throats, it will serve only our enemies, not our duchess. I would ask that you set aside your abbess’s suspicions and listen to your own heart, for even though you pretend you don’t have one, I know that you do. I ask not for my sake, but for my sister’s.
“D’Albret presses her to honor her father’s promises to him; the Holy Roman emperor wants her hand but does not have the troops to secure her realm once she agrees to that betrothal. The French are breathing down our necks, and there are very few options open to her that do not either plunge her country into war or consign her to a marriage too horrible to consider. If we do not work together, we further reduce those options.”
Of course he is right, but even so, it is a dangerous bargain we strike. I cannot help but think the abbess would never approve. I do not know how dearly she holds her belief in Duval’s guilt or whether she and Crunard will thank me if I prove them wrong. But I have searched high and low for any signs of treachery to give weight to their suspicions, and the only evidence I found has just been neatly explained. It also has the convincing ring of truth to it, especially as I have witnessed the open animosity between him and his mother.
It is a narrow line Duval asks me to walk, seeing to both the duchess’s needs and my convent’s. For although their goals are the same, I fear their methods are very different. If I am wrong, I risk losing the convent’s trust, which is surely the thing I value most in this world. even so, there is no other choice. Not with the duchess in such dire straits, for if she fails to maintain her country’s independence, the convent will surely suffer. “Very well, milord.”
He smiles then, and even though it is well past midnight, it as if the sun has just come out. "Excellent,” he says. “This is what I need you to do.”
Early the next morning Duval and I ride out into the country.
Louyse asks him to repeat himself twice when he requests a hamper to take with us. Clearly, this is out of character for him, and she slides her wise old eyes to me, a look of pleased speculation in them.
De Lornay and Beast are waiting for us outside, their horses fresh and pawing at the morning. Duval is lending me a dappled gray mare of his for the day, and I slip her a bit of apple I snuck from the table.
Our horses’ hooves ring out on the cold cobbles as we ride toward the north gate. The town is even more crowded than it was the day we arrived; every Breton noble — and many French ones — are tucked up inside its walls, waiting to see what drama will play out at the estates meeting. The tension in the city is thick enough to slice with a knife and feed to the peasants.
As we ride through the streets, de Lornay tosses his head back and laughs, as if Duval has said something clever. Duval himself grins, and Beast turns his ugly face to me and smiles. I smile back. we are, for all the world, a happy little party out to enjoy the fine autumn day.
But of course, we are not.
Duval is well aware we may be riding into a trap, but the duchess’s situation is desperate enough that we will take our chances. De Lornay and Beast are the muscle of the operation. I have been brought along as a decoy, for surely the serious, stalwart Duval would not leave town at a time such as this unless he was utterly besotted with his new mistress.
Once clear of the city, we head north through the woods that surround Guérande, and our gaiety falls from us somewhat. It is a crisp, chill morning and I am grateful for the fur-lined cloak Sister Beatriz has sent. My thoughts hop and flutter, just like the nearby birds searching out the last of the season’s offerings before winter arrives. I tell myself that if the abbess learns of this outing, I will simply explain I am being her eyes and ears, just as I was instructed. She has no need to know I have agreed to work with Duval. Indeed, I do not know myself if I truly meant it or just agreed in order to placate him and be included in his plans. either way, until it requires that I do something in direct conflict with the convent’s orders, it seems harmless enough.
we ride for nearly an hour before Duval sends de Lornay to double back and check if we are being followed.
"Who do you think would follow us?” I ask.
Duval shrugs. “Anyone who saw us leave. The French envoy would dearly love to know what we’re about, as would my mother. D’Albret. Anyone on the Privy Council who is jealous of the trust Anne places in me.”