The Unconventional Maiden by June Francis Read Free Book Online Page B

off for Calais with Tom Crabtree, leaving Sam to keep a watch out for any sign of trouble. She was annoyed at being left behind, but soon decidedthere was little point in feeling that way. After a breakfast of bread and ham, she took paper and quill and ink and began to write down all that happened in the last twenty-four hours.
    By the time she had finished the sun was climbing high in the sky and Gawain had returned.
    One look at his face told Beth that something momentous had occurred. ‘What is wrong?’ she asked, starting to her feet.
    ‘Monsieur Le Brun has been murdered,’ said Gawain grimly.
    Beth felt the blood rush to her head and collapsed on the ground.
    Gawain cursed himself for his thoughtlessness and went down on one knee, placing his arms beneath her and lifting her up. He sat down with her on his lap and glanced at Jane, who had put down her mending and stood up. ‘Don’t stand there like a stock,’ he roared. ‘Fetch some wine.’
    Jane hurried to do his bidding while Gawain tried to rouse Beth by patting her cheek and calling her name. He needed her to be strong when he was feeling aroused by simply holding her on his lap. He was annoyed with himself; he should not be feeling like this about her.
    Beth’s eyelids fluttered open and she gazed up into his face. Realising that she was sitting in her guardian’s lap, she sat bolt upright. ‘Put me down at once!’ she ordered.
    ‘There is no need to panic,’ he said roughly, wishingshe would keep still and hoping she was unaware of his arousal.
    ‘You—you did say that Monsieur Le Brun had been murdered?’ She swallowed a lump in her throat and, despite her earlier demand that he release her, clung to his doublet.
    ‘Aye, it was completely unexpected.’ His expression was serious. It appeared that perhaps after all they had a religious maniac on the loose. He could think of no other reason why the French master printer should have been killed, but one of his sons had told him that he had been providing Master Llewellyn with information about the teachings of the heretic Martin Luther for more than a year now, so maybe that was reason enough for a lunatic.
    Beth’s eyes filled with tears. ‘He was such a kind, harmless old man,’ she whispered.
    ‘I’m going to get you on a ship to England today,’ said Gawain. ‘Whilst in Calais, I spoke to the master mariner of a vessel that is sailing this evening.’
    ‘Good,’ said Beth, relieved. ‘I will be glad to leave this place.’
    Before she could say any more Jane brought the wine. Gawain took the cup from her and held it to Beth’s lips. She drank, but, despite feeling light-headed, as soon as she had drained the cup she insisted on getting to her feet. Gawain wasted no time in helping her up and then ordered the men to make ready the horses and to pack the tents, bedding and baggage in a wagon.
    Beth and Gawain conversed little on the journey to Calais. She could not deny that she would have beenmore anxious if it were not for his presence. Yet she knew she could not depend on him to keep her safe once she arrived home, despite his promise to her father. He had a wife and children and she would not have him risk his life for her. One thing was for certain—the death of Monsieur Le Brun proved that her father must have had something to do with the printing of religious information coming out of Europe. She still could not believe that Jonathan was involved. Yet if he had not been, then why had he been killed? Could it have been purely because he was his father’s son? If so, that meant her life really could be in danger, too.

Chapter Three
    G awain stood at the side of the ship, gazing towards the port of Smallhythe, positioned on the bank of the River Rother where his boatyard, amongst others, was situated. Raventon Hall lay further inland up a hilly road that led to the town of Tenderden and beyond to the Wealden forests, nestling between fields where sheep grazed. He felt a swell