Page 50 of Forbidden: Claude

“We’ll go with ye to talk to them.” Lady Isobel and Lord Conlin walked hand in hand down the corridor toward her.

“Come, Lady Evelina,” said Celestine. “Face your fears the way you taught Rose and Claude to face theirs. Everything will work out in the end.”

“Did you have a vision?” asked Evelina hopefully.

“I did not. However, I know what a strong woman you are and that you would never give up on love and a man you believed in, would you?”

“Nay, I won’t give up on Claude,” said Evelina. Holding her head high, she entered the great hall behind Lady Isobel and Lord Conlin.

“Evelina, thank God I found you.” Her father, the Count of Tarbes, rushed forward with Lord Onfroi right behind him.

“Father,” she said, swallowing forcefully, wishing Claude were at her side to help her through this. “How did you find me?”

“The mercenary returned and told us that you paid him to escort you to England,” said Onfroi. “Why in God’s name would you do that?”

“Aye,” said her father. “And why are you wearing a gown covered in mud?”

“Augustin told us you were posing as a servant,” added Onfroi. “Are you daft? I should take you across my knee for even playing such a game.”

Evelina shuddered, knowing Lord Onfroi would have no qualms with hitting her.

“Pack your things, Daughter, we are heading back to France at once,” said the count.

“Count du Pont,” said Conlin, stepping forward. “It is a shame you have to leave so soon. I would like to show you the docks and, perhaps, talk about a trade since you’ve come all the way from France.”

“What kind of trade?” Onfroi broke in. “You are a Baron of the Cinque Ports, aren’t you?”

“I am,” said Conlin. “And who would you be?”

“I am Lord Onfroi Faucheux of Grenoble. I am Lady Evelina’s betrothed.”

“Ah, I see,” said Conlin. “So, your betrothal to Lady Evelina is an alliance.”

“Of course, it is,” the man snapped. “Why else would I be marrying her? Look at her in that bedraggled gown with dirt from head to foot. When she’s my wife, she will never walk around looking like that.”

“Some men marry for love,” Conlin told him. “It isn’t always about money or what you can gain.”

“That’s nonsense,” he spat.

“We married for love,” Isobel spoke up.

“So did my daughter,” said Conlin.

“What is this all about?” asked the count. “Why are you even saying this?”

“Father, I am in love with another man. I cannot marry Lord Onfroi,” Evelina blurted out.

“You’re what?” gasped her father.

Evelina continued. “His name is Sir Claude Jean Montague. He is a French, just like us.”

“He is?” asked the count. “What holdings does he have?”

“I don’t know,” said Evelina, “but neither do I care. I would marry him even if he were penniless because I fell in love with him.”

“She’s lying,” spat Onfroi. “Besides, she is already betrothed to me. The deal has been made.”

“Hold on, Onfroi.” The count held up his hand. “Where is this Sir Claude Montague? I would like to meet him.”