Taste of Treason by April Taylor Read Free Book Online Page A

Luke. Here,” she ordered, grabbing the sack covering the basket of logs, “drape this over your head. Come.”
    Luke was unsurprised to discover that the spell on the sacking intensified his senses. He could feel fear mingled with excitement rolling from Gwenette in an almost tangible stream. The atmosphere at court was always heightened with ambition and power-seeking in full play, but he knew that unless she grew calmer, her anxiety would attract the type of notice he was desperate to avoid.
    Now that he was on the verge of examining the site of the murder, he worried that he might not have prepared for all contingencies. Indeed, far from the calm, measured thoughts that had occupied him at home, his brain seemed to teem with disconnected images. The more he tried to discipline his mind, the less ordered it became. Was that the sacking, his own anxiety or something more sinister?
    Waiting until they had turned a dark corner between the royal apartments, Luke lowered the basket to the ground, making sure for the benefit of any watching eyes that he flexed his shoulders. He needed to make physical contact with Joss and she divined this by standing quite still next to the basket. He could stroke her, but it would appear that he was merely rearranging the logs to make them easier to carry.
    Gwenette, aware that he was not following, turned and hurried back to him. He took her hand and put it on Joss’s head.
    “I can feel hostility in the air,” he said in a whisper close to her ear. “It is making you more nervous than is wise. Feel the softness of Joss’s fur, lose yourself in its silkiness and let her presence calm you.”
    Gwenette closed her eyes and let Joss nuzzle her stroking hand. When she next opened them, Luke could see that her growing apprehension had dissipated. He nodded and swept the basket back onto his shoulders.
    “Lead on and have faith,” he said.
    He saw Gwenette’s head lift and her back straighten as she approached the door guarded by two sentries.
    “Logs for the Queen’s fire.”
    The crossed pikes separated and one sentry opened the door. Gwenette pointed towards the fire. “Put them there,” she said in a loud voice, turning only when the door closed. Luke did as he was bid, checking that the apartments were empty.
    “There is nobody here,” he whispered, suddenly alarmed.
    “It is something my mistress has arranged, but these rooms will not remain unpeopled for long. Luke, you must make haste. How can I help?”
    “Tell me as much as you remember of the night Edith Brook died.”
    Gwenette smoothed down her skirt. “My mistress sent me to the Queen with the gift of a pearl that his late majesty gave her when she carried the King.”
    “What time of day was it?”
    “It was almost time for Her Grace to retire. When I entered, she appeared fretful, although her ladies did much to try and win smiles from her.” Gwenette looked up and proceeded on his nod. “She wished to bathe. The Mistress of the Robes attempted to talk her into waiting until the warmth of day, but the more she cajoled, the more the Queen determined she would wash herself. I remember her saying something about being fragrant for the King.”
    “Aye. All know he follows his father in matters of bathing. So, I assume that this child was instructed to fill the tub.”
    “Aye, but Her Grace did not want everyone to see her condition so clearly, so she instructed that a bath be filled behind the curtain. But then it was forgotten. When the Queen saw the pearl, she decided she must wear it the next day and ordered that her jewels be brought so that she could choose a chain.”
    Luke gazed around deep in thought. He could imagine the size of the pearl and doubted if Madeleine had ever seen anything to match it. That distraction and the deep shadows would allow anyone to enter unobserved and kill the maid. They would merely have to get past the guards and ushers on the door, a simple matter for a sunderer.
    Gwenette