It takes me a moment to realize that supper is over and I am being dismissed. He holds out his arm, in case I have not caught his meaning.
I narrow my eyes at him. Does he truly think I do not know his plan? That I will sit quietly in my room while he talks of kingdoms and traitors with these friends of his? Well and so, if he is that stupid, let him think I will do exactly as he wishes.
I smile sweetly at him. “Of course, milord.” I rise to my feet and bid the others good night. As Duval escorts me from the room, I school my features into a mild, placid expression. At my door, he bids me a polite good night and leaves. I close the door and lean against it, listening. when I am certain he is gone, I open the door and peer out into the hallway. It is empty.
Quiet as a shadow, I slip out of my room and hurry to find the servants’ stairway.
Chapter Fourteen
I descend the narrow stairway and pass through a small, cramped antechamber, then come to a thick door. The kitchens, no doubt. It is late, and if the saint is with me, most of the workers will be done for the night. I push the door open, a ready excuse at the tip of my tongue. But there are only two boys inside, over in the scullery corner scrubbing pots nearly as tall as they are.
I wink at them, then hold my finger to my lips and offer them two copper coins. Their eyes brighten at this unexpected largesse. They snatch the coins from me with red, raw fingers and nod their acceptance of our bargain. Their loyalty thus purchased, I make my way to the door that will lead me to Duval’s secrets.
It opens onto another short hallway between the kitchens and the dining hall. Perfect. I slip into the hallway, hide myself among the shadows, and inch along the wall toward the dining room.
Duval is just returning to his seat. Beast looks up and grimaces. “Catch that wench’s eye and order more wine, will you? She is too awed by my pretty face to heed my call, and Lord Dandy here will not do it.”
“Most likely because she’ll try to follow him back to his bedchamber,” Duval mutters.
Ignoring Duval’s jab, de Lornay leans across the table. “Are you really going to flaunt this girl before the entire court? Your bloodlines are far too well known for such a deception.”
Duval snorts. “I am hoping they will hear cousin and think mistress.”
“They would if it were anyone but you,” de Lornay scoffs. “You may as well be a monk with as few women as you take to your bed.”
Beast tilts his head to the side. "What is truly going on? Politics is your mistress, not some rustic from the country, no matter how charming she may be.”
I blush in the darkness, glad there is no one to see.
“And therein lies the rub,” Duval says. “No one will believe us, as I tried hard to explain to the abbess of St. Mortain.”
My limbs go rigid with shock as he exposes my true identity to the others. He must hold them in even greater regard than I thought. Or my safety in less.
Beast gapes at him. “That girl is from the convent of St. Mortain?”
Duval grimaces into his goblet. “One of Death’s handmaidens, my friend.”
Beast whistles. “Has she been set on you?”
“She says no, as does her abbess. But the girl is about as trusting as the French regent, so I have my doubts.”
Mayhap he is not as foolish as I think.
Duval refills his goblet and recounts the story of how he was ensnared in the reverend mother’s trap. when he is done, Beast throws back his great, ugly head and laughs, frightening the serving maid even more.
Duval stares morosely into the dregs of his cup. “It is not funny.”
“Oh, but it is,” de Lornay says. “The master of more plots than a whore has lovers has been neatly caught in someone else’s.”
Duval waits patiently for his friends’ mirth to pass. In truth, he is handling it much better than I would. I would have clouted them both by now.
“If you’ve quite finished . . .” he says.
“Sorry,” Beast murmurs, wiping his eyes with his massive fist. "What will you do?”
“Lie as convincingly as I can and pray she doesn’t kill someone important.”
This glum reply sets off Beast’s laughter anew until Duval has to reach out and kick him to get him to shut up. “You’re scaring the other patrons,” he mutters. “Now, tell me what news you bring from england, since I was not able to hear it from Runnion.”
“Runnion truly did not reach you? what happened to him?” de Lornay asks.
Duval jerks his head up toward the ceiling and my room.
Beast’s eyes widen. “She happened to Runnion? But I thought the convent served Brittany?”
“It does, or so I believe. But there has been a breakdown in our communications, which is why they’ve saddled me with this green stripling of a novitiate.”
De Lornay leans forward, his face aflush with curiosity. “Have you bedded her yet?”