In the Shadow of Midnight - By Marsha Canham Page 0,108

reflexive reaction sent Eduard’s hand toward his breast; the look on Ariel’s face halted it midway there.

“Is the pearl you are going to steal for her?” she asked quietly, “Or is it just something you planned to pick up along the way?”

Eduard began to understand—at least he hoped he did— and he might have smiled if Ariel had not been trying to look so hard as if his answers did not matter.

“So now I am a thief as well?” he asked gently. “God’s truth, I have tumbled from grace, have I not?”

“Do you deny you have been plotting with my brother and Sedrick to steal a valuable jewel the king now has in his possession? A pearl to be precise. And again, it would not be worth the waste of breath to say nay, for I heard the three of you whispering about it one night. About stealing the pearl out from under the king’s nose. Those were the very words I heard.”

“Were you never taught the evils of eavesdropping?”

“Were you not concerned the evils of theft and skullduggery might tend to strain your vaunted code of honour?”

“My honour would be strained more if I were to stand by and do nothing,” he said evenly.

“You are speaking in riddles again, sir,” she accused.

“And you are speaking in ignorance. Ignorance,” he said on a gust, “that has gone on long enough, methinks. If you will bring yourself away from the fire and sit with me a moment, I will tell you everything you should have known before we ever embarked from Amboise.”

“Including her name?”

Eduard’s gaze followed Ariel’s to the deep vee of his tunic where a wink of gold peeped through the mat of coarse chest hairs.

“Her name is Eleanor. As it happens, she is also the selfsame lady who is known to many as the Pearl of Brittany.”

“The Pearl of—” Ariel’s eyes widened. “Surely you do not mean—”

“The Princess Eleanor of Brittany, my lady. The only Pearl we would, any of us, be willing to go to such measures to steal from the king’s clutches.”

Chapter 14

“Princess Eleanor is in England?” Ariel gasped. “But I thought … I mean, we had heard she was being held in the Citadel in Rouen, with her brother Arthur.” “Indeed, she was until a few weeks ago.”

At Eduard’s insistence, they had moved a bench closer to the fire, but even with her cup of mead cradled in her hands and the heat from the roaring flames curling her toes, she felt chilled to the bone as she listened to his explanations of the events that had brought them to St. Malo. He told her everything—her uncle’s involvement; the plans to rescue Eleanor and remove her to a safe haven in Wales; the reasons for their secrecy and their need for stealth.

“The king knows he is losing his grip on Normandy. You have seen yourself, he has very little support left among the local barons of Touraine, Maine, Poitou, and Brittany. John must also have realized that to leave Eleanor in Normandy would give the rebelling forces a rallying point. If Hugh de Luisgnan overran Rouen and freed her, he would have a legitimate claimant to the throne to lead them in a civil war that could extend across the Channel into England.”

“Then the rumours about Arthur’s death …?” “Can only be true, my lady. He must be dead or the king would have used him to stop Hugh’s campaign long before now.”

“I see. And is this what you want? Civil war?”

“No. No, it is not what I want. Nor is it what your uncle wants. Our prime concern is Eleanor’s safety; of secondary, political consideration is her value, once she is beyond reach of the king’s control, to limit the power he wields from the throne.”

“Forgive me for asking so bluntly, but … why would the king have had Arthur killed, yet leave Eleanor alive? It would seem to me it accomplished nothing to remove the threat of one heir, knowing full well there was another waiting to challenge him. And why take her to England? What does he plan to do with her there?”

“It would be my guess he plans to keep her locked away in a prison cell for the rest of her life,” Eduard said bitterly. “He has no other choice.”

“But one,” she pointed out gently.

Eduard snatched up the iron rod and thrust it into the bed of embers. He stabbed at them as if it was a sword he held, and