Page 47 of Laird of Smoke
“He’s a jeweler.He makes enamels and reliquaries.”
“And ye’ve posed as this jeweler?”
“Aye.”
“Do ye know how to make jewelry then?”
“Nay.But it didn’t get that far.”
She lifted a brow for him to continue.“Tell me everythin’.”
“My younger brother was leavin’ an alehouse late at night when he tripped o’er the alewife’s cat and landed in the lap of a drunken nobleman,” he said vaguely.“The man, furious at bein’ accosted, challenged my brother to combat the followin’ day.He couldn’t see my brother was too young for battle, and the proud lad wouldn’t refuse the challenge.”
She clasped a hand to her breast.
“So I ordered him to stay at home.Early the next morn, Godefroid de Claire,” he said with a wink, “made a visit to the nobleman.Godefroid pulled out a quill and parchment and told the man that as a gesture o’ thanks for his loyalty, the king had commissioned an enamel to be made in his honor.The nobleman was delighted.Naturally, drawin’ up the design for the piece took most o’ the day.”
“Naturally.”
“By the time Godefroid left, the man had completely forgotten about the battle.”
“And the enamel?”
“The nobleman’s friends agreed the man must have drunk himself into a stupor to imagine the esteemed artist Godefroid de Claire would make an enamel for him.”
It was Eve’s turn to laugh.Whowasthis hero in disguise who risked life and limb for his family?She desperately wanted to know.
She suddenly asked him, “Have ye e’er been unmasked?”
“Me?Nay.Ye?”
She thought about the time Hew du Lac of Rivenloch had tried to court her.“Not exactly, but ’twas close.”
“What happened?”
“Someone fell in love with me,” she recalled, gazing out at the sunny meadow.“He didn’t realize I was—” She broke off.She’d almost saida nun.“I wasn’t who I said I was.”
“And who was that?”
She had to think fast.“A…a courtesan.”
Shite.Why had she said that?Shehadon occasion disguised herself as a woman of easy virtue simply for access to men’s secrets.But she’d never indulged in any immoral activity.When Hew confessed his love, she’d been dressed just like this, as Lady Aillenn.In the end, she’d taken pity on his bruised heart and admitted to being a nun.
She glanced at Adam.Suspicion was etched on his brow.
“I’mnot,o’ course,”she said, reading his thoughts.“I’m not a courtesan.I told ye, I’ve ne’er e’en kissed…”
Shehadn’ttold him that, though.She’dalmosttold him that.
“I knew it,” he said in triumph.“I knew I was your first.”
She blushed, more from the indignity of having trapped herself with her own words than his smug delight at being her first kiss.
Then he leaned in to murmur, “If it makes ye feel better, ’twas my first as well.”
“Nay.Is that true?”
“Aye.I’ve ne’er kissed a bearded pilgrim before in my—”
