Page 55 of Veil of Winter

Nothing was more important to Gerard than his brothers and sister. To sell his sister to a dishonorable man like Count Rodrigo was unthinkable.

“You deserve a good man who will treat you well.” Gerard was emphatic. “I’m glad you did not accept King Claude’s plans for you. And I’m sorry your father did not save you from him. Forgive me for criticizing your father, but that was cowardly and dishonorable.”

A sad smile touched her lips. “There is nothing to forgive. It is true.” She cleared her throat and wrapped her arms around herself, a sudden shudder passing over her. “It is very cold. I don’t think I dressed as warmly as I should have.” Her smile grew bigger, as if she were amused at herself.

He was already drawing off his own thick wool cloak.

“No, you don’t need to do that. You will get cold.”

“I’m not cold.” He draped it over her shoulders anyway and pulled it closed at the neck. “If you wish to go back inside...”

“Not just yet. Thank you. But if you start to get cold, we will go in.”

They started walking again.

“Now that I’ve told you my sad story...” She smiled, as though to let him know he should not feel pity for her. “Delia told me in her last letter that you had a vision when you were praying about whether you should come to Montciel to help me. Tell me about that.”

“Yes.” He ran his hand through his hair. “It was very strange. Nothing like that has ever happened to me before, but I promised Delia, so I was praying in the chapel at Dericott Castle. And while my eyes were closed, I suddenly saw a vision of a young woman lying on a bed. People were all around and they were motioning to me with their hands, asking me to come and help. Then the vision vanished.

“I prayed and asked God what the vision meant. And as clear as day, I heard the words, ‘Go to Montciel. Help Princess Elyce.’ So even though it was all very strange, I knew I had to go. And when I saw you, you looked exactly like the girl in my vision. I was astonished.”

“How very exciting! I can only imagine how you must have felt. God has never spoken to me like that.”

“Never to me either, until then.”

“Well, I am glad He told you to come here.”

Her eyes were so sincere, her expression so tender, his chest began to feel a bit strange.

“Delia has told me a little about what happened when you and your brothers were arrested and locked in the Tower of London. Will you tell me what happened?”

He told her the story, making it short and to the point. She listened intently, nodding and murmuring her surprise or relief as he recounted the events. When he finished, she sighed.

“You and your brothers are very brave. I’m so grateful it all ended well for you.”

“You are the brave one,” he said, “to drink a sleeping potion that would put you to sleep for three days. What made you decide to do such a thing?”

“I couldn’t think of any other way.” She shook her head slowly, explaining how she came to learn of the existence of the potion and how she reasoned out the plan. “And here we are, even though things didn’t work out exactly as I’d planned.”

“I’m very glad you’re alive.” He wanted to touch her delicate jawline. Would her skin be as soft as it looked?

“I must say, I am as well.” She gave a little laugh, clear and musical. “Tell me about your family. Delia has told me a lot about her brothers, but she hasn’t told me very much about your father or mother.”

“My mother died when I was very young, but I remember her being kind and gentle. And my father was fair to us, his sons and daughter, never cruel, but I always thought him rather harsh to the servants and the villeins who worked his land. Though nothing out of the ordinary, I imagine.”

“You probably miss him a lot.” She looked earnest, her eyes intent on his.

“I did not see him often enough to miss him overmuch. I was away, training to be a knight. Most years I only saw him about four weeks.”

“That seems so sad. I’m not sure I could send my children away like that. But I have been told I am overly emotional.” She half frowned, half smiled.

“It is not overly emotional to feel as a mother should, compassionate and protective of her own child. It is natural. The failing of a bad parent is usually that they feel too little, not too much. That is what I think. But I have been told I am overly opinionated.”

She smiled, giving him a side glance as they walked past a high hedge. He almost instinctively reached out to pull her close, but he stopped himself. He imagined gazing into her eyes for a long moment, seeing that breathless look on her face, then kissing her lips.

Instead, he rubbed a hand down his newly shaven face and across his chin. He should have known he would be having such thoughts. He should have made sure Sir Oswalt and Ysabeau were with them.

Truly, the Holy Writ was right that the flesh was weak. But he did not want to hurt her—or break his own heart—and he could easily let his heart become entangled with this fairest of the fair, beautifully compassionate Princess of Montciel.