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Reynard smiled, a rueful smile, as if she had caught him out. But he didn’t really seem to mind, and he linked his hands between his knees and did as she asked without argument.
“Lord Henry has a fine house in London, with a mistress he changes often, and many powerful friends. And yet he does not want to leave Gunlinghorn.”
“And why is that, do you think?”
“Mayhap it is because he is fond of Lady Jenova, and she of him.”
“More than fond,” Rhona said, “if he has all that awaiting him in London and has not returned.”
“She and he are old friends.”
“Very old friends.”
Reynard lifted his head and looked across at her. “Nay, lady,” he was saying earnestly. “’Tis not as you think. They grew up together in Normandy, and have always been close. Lady Jenova sent word to Lord Henry to come and offer her advice on her marriage to your brother. I do not think Lord Henry advised against it, but the lady decided on her own that she did not want to go ahead with the wedding.”
“My father does not believe that, and neither do I.”
“I do not think your father wants to believe it.”
That was true enough. “Has your master spoken at all of leaving, of returning to London?”
“Aye, he has spoken of it, but he does not wish to leave Lady Jenova while she is at odds with your family. He fears for her safety.”
With justification, thought Rhona bleakly. If only Henry and Jenova knew just how dangerous her father was, and that Rhona herself was working against Jenova! Henry would flee to London in an instant and take the lady with him. Perhaps he had thought of that? Rhona knew that if there was any sign of them leaving, she must act to prevent it. She could not let it happen, for if Jenova left, all Rhona’s hopes for freedom would go with her.
“I want him to leave, not her,” she said coldly, hiding her fear. “’Tis in all our interests if Henry leaves as soon as possible, and Lady Jenova remains at Gunlinghorn, alone.”
“I see. So, with Lord Henry gone, Lady Jenova will be unprotected and open to your father’s persuasions? Is that what you want, my lady?”
Her eyes focused on Reynard, and she found that he was studying her, reading her. How clearly he had seen through her just then! Her heart gave a little flutter. It was best if he did not know what she was planning. She must be careful, very careful….
“I sent a message to your master through Lady Jenova. Le château de Nuit. Did he get it?”
“He got something. He has been like a wounded wolf, snapping and snarling at me, though he pretends to Lady Jenova there is nothing amiss.”
Rhona raised her eyebrows. “Really? I did not realize it was so powerful a message. My father says he has a friend who knows a dark secret, something that Henry will do anything to keep hidden.”
“And do you know who this friend is, my lady?”
“Nay.” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You are very curious, Reynard. I thought ’twas you who did the spying for me, not the other way around.”
He reached out his hand and brushed his finger down her cheek, stroking the soft, pale skin with a reverence that took her by surprise. But the glow in his eyes was far from reverent as he said, “I am eager to do well in your service, lady, and receive my reward.”
Her breath caught with just a few words and a glance. The dark gleam of his eyes made her body suddenly want to turn all warm and melting in his arms. She was the one in charge of this situation, not he. It was too important for her to lose her wits now.
“There was another reason I asked,” he was saying. “Lord Henry is not a trusting man. He will never be completely convinced your father knows anything about this hidden secret until he has more proof. You must give him the name of this friend if you are to master him.”
His tone was persuasive, and his words made sense. But more proof? That would mean she would have to speak to her father again, wangle the name from him somehow. It was not something she relished. However, Rhona nodded brusquely and stood up, the fire flickering from the movement of her skirts. “Very well, Reynard, I will find out. Will we meet here next time?”
“Not here. The Black Dog, at Gunlinghorn Harbor. We will be safe there, and it will be more comfortable. Send me word when you are ready to join me there, my lady.”
Was it Rhona’s imagination, or did he mean something more than just her readiness to hear further information? Nay, she did not think it her imagination—there was that gleam in his eyes again. She pretended not to notice.
“The Black Dog. Very well.”
Reynard smiled into her eyes. “Remember,” he said softly, “I want you to enjoy me as much as I will enjoy you.” And then he turned and led her from the hut. Rhona found herself stumbling behind him, confused, angry. Outside it seemed colder than before, and Rhona waited while he fetched her mount, trying to still her trembling. As she moved to place her foot into the stirrup, Reynard caught her about the waist before she could protest, and tossed her up into the saddle.
Rhona steadied herself and turned, grasping the reins, feeling breathless and flushed. He must not know how he affected her. He must not realize how close she was to admitting the truth. That she would like nothing better than to lie in his arms and lose herself in the kisses of a churl.
