and crusts of fresh baked bread. Wine flowed like water and ale frothed from huge oaken barrels and not surprisingly, a guest or two toppled forward, face down into their trenchers before the final courses of wafers and fruit compotes were served.
By then Servanne’s cheeks were well flushed from impatience. She had barely tasted her wine, and her trencher of food sat untouched in clots of congealing fat.
She was quickest to her feet when the men suggested an afternoon of hawking, and the most beguiling in offering her wishes to decline the party in favour of resting for the evening’s entertainments ahead. Wardieu regarded her through vaguely curious eyes, especially when she was observed sidling toward the bishop’s end of the table, but the combined stimulant of the women’s fawning laughter and Prince John’s open flattery distracted him long enough for Servanne to whisper a private word in Friar’s ear.
“When La Seyne Sur Mer arrives, I wish to see him,” she said.
“What?” He looked startled, uncertain of whether he had heard her words correctly or not.
“I want to speak to La Seyne,” she hissed again, her eyes bright and defying him to refuse. “I know why he is here. I know what his business is with Prince John, and I would speak with him in private before any more mistakes are made.” She straightened, bringing the level of her voice up a notch higher as she did so. “Of course, I could wait and speak to him openly in the company of De Gournay and the prince, but I rather suspect he would prefer to keep the subject of our business a private matter a while longer.”
Friar opened his mouth to protest, but Wardieu’s sudden appearance at his bride’s side turned the utterance into a tight smile. “Naturally, my lady, I shall see what I can arrange.”
“Arrange?” Wardieu asked, his cool gaze narrowing as it went from one face to the other. “What is there yet to be arranged?”
“Oh.” Servanne feigned a maidenly gasp. “’tis a surprise, my lord, and not for you to know just yet.”
“A surprise, is it?” His hand curved possessively around Servanne’s waist, his fingers transforming the gesture into a caress. “I am becoming quite fond of surprises, my lady. Quite fond, indeed.”
20
“La Seyne does not like surprises,” Friar muttered. “He does not like them at all.”
“You told him I wished to see him?” Servanne whispered, her voice barely louder than the rustling of her skirt over the stone floor.
“I told him.”
“Then it will not exactly be a surprise, will it?”
Friar came to an abrupt halt at the end of one corridor, seeming to mentally verify their position before turning into the musty gloom of another arched stone hallway.
“This is utter madness,” he remarked under his breath. “It is nearing midnight. We are as apt to get hopelessly lost and wander undiscovered until morning as we are to stumble across a nest of guards sniffing after trouble.”
“Why did you not beg our leave of the company an hour ago—or two, for that matter? Most of the guests were too sodden to have noticed our departure.”
“Why could you not have waited until morning to see La Seyne? He has been inside the castle walls but a few hours and is in no temper for entertaining foolish young women.”
“I heard he met with the prince’s hawking party out on the moor.”
“It afforded him the opportunity to decline an invitation to tonight’s festivities without appearing to offer insult to either Prince John, or his host—not that such a petty thing as insulting royalty would have stopped him from declining anyway. But it soured his mood as effectively as if he had been in attendance. Since you claim to have deduced his purpose for coming to Bloodmoor Keep, you must also realize his fondest wish is to complete his business and be on his way.”
“Getting the Princess Eleanor safely away from Prince John is, of course, of some importance—”
Friar halted again, so unexpectedly this time, Servanne walked up his heels and bumped into his shoulders.
“Firstly,” he said in an angry hiss, “the walls have ears. Secondly, concluding the matter swiftly and safely is of the utmost importance, my lady. It must be accomplished to the exclusion of all else. Do I make myself clear?”
Servanne bristled at the condescending tone, but in the next breath, she realized it was fear and concern speaking— as much for her safety as for the safety of the princess.