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“And I thank you. Perhaps you could tell me if the slave Jontile is here today?”
“She was earlier this hour, though I thought I saw her leave.”
“Little gypsy!” Mountbane declared as he stared around the bath.
Though the master’s presence had initially hushed the room to silence, the tittering maids had returned to their conversations while Mountbane was focused on Mistress Lowen and the fisted slave. Noting that his eyes were again searching the bath, their chattering waned. Only a few dared whisper.
“Who is that maid?” Mountbane asked Lowen, as he stared toward a lithe creature with pale red hair cascading like a sheet of silk down her back. Such a pretty pink mouth, he thought, and her eyes. Even from this distance, he could see the green, the sparkle and the depth of them. Not since Charlotte had captivated his imagination had a woman been so inviting to his eye. Oddly, she was still clothed with the most exquisite parts of her body hidden from view.
“That is Rosaura, the intended of Sir Leonas,” Lowen answered, though she lowered her voice to add, “Of course, Sir Ellemore is not yet apprised of that fact.”
“Ah yes! I believe I’ve heard the rumors.”
“Beautiful, isn’t she?”
“That she is,” he said admiringly. He sensed her blush, as though she saw his eyes on her and turned in embarrassment. “Too bad she is spoken for.”
“Several men have repeated that refrain, sir.”
“I’m sure they have.”
Not having found the object of his search in the baths—but having discovered treasures certainly worth the trip—Mountbane turned to leave, finding as he did that Mistress Gwnyth was at his heels. As soon as they were in the corridor, she caught up with him, her voice impatient, barely disguising her present wrath.
“Sir, I must speak with you.”
Mountbane had never liked the woman, and could never understand exactly how Tristan had ended up with the beautiful but rancorous bitch. Oh, she could bow in supplication like the best of slaves. But there never seemed to be a true submissive quality in her character. Whether tenderly addressed or beaten into yielding, there remained a razor sharpness about her aspect that drove Mountbane away from her. Had she been his wife—which she never would have been—he’d have disposed of her a long time ago—if need be, in favor of a less comely but more humble subject for his lust. Then, of course, Tristan was an odd fellow in his own right. His dark nobleman loved challenges even more than he did.
“And for what reason do you need me?” Mountbane asked the quickly scurrying woman. Her short stride was hardly a match for his long one and she had to work to keep up with the brisk pace. He would slow for no one, especially this woman.
&
nbsp; “I think there is something you should be informed of?”
“And that is?”
“Your wife and my husband.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, sir, I have it on good report that there is something scandalous in the wind.”
Only this remark made Mountbane take note and he slowed his gait. “What would that be?” he asked, diverting his route to a less used corridor so that the conversation might be continued in private.
“I believe, sir, that these weeks of the Lady’s confinement in the forest hovel have united the two in some sort of intrigue.”
“What is there that suggests such things? To blaspheme Sir Tristan is to blaspheme a powerful nobleman of this realm as well as your husband and my trusted aide.”
“I only tell you of what I hear. And that is that they are now bound together to some escape, with the intention of enjoying the love that has grown between them somewhere outside your rule.”
Mountbane laughed at the thought. “Fine lady/slave, you are quite mistaken. I sent them from the forest hovel to Sir Guy of Baudaire, in order that Tristan can present my wife as an offering to the fellow. Their trip is thoroughly sanctioned.”
“I know of this, sir, but were they not to have been attended by Tristan’s two pupils.”
“That is what I ordered.”
“One of my maids reported today that she saw young Cheswick. She has quite a fondness for the young man, and asking him about his stealthy entry into the castle, he entreated her to keep quiet about the venture, saying that he was on holiday from his duties, Sir Tristan did not need him. His Lord let both of his aides go just as they reached the outer wilds. Is that not strange? Especially considering the time Tristan and Charlotte spent with each other. I swear there has been more than lust in my husband’s eye since Lady Charlotte came to Ilusia. He has nurtured a fondness for your wife, and I believe he and the Lady have flown from us—escaped together to pursue their indecent coupling.”
“Is that so?” Mountbane did look curious. “You know this youth that spilled the story?”
