The Secret of Love by Wright Cynthia

Author:Wright, Cynthia
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boxwood Manor Books
Published: 2016-12-26T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

“Are you certain you don’t need anything, my lady?”

Izzie kept the door to her chamber open only a few inches, peeking out at Eustache LeFait and smiling as brightly as she could. “No, not a thing, though you are very thoughtful. Why don’t you go and find Lowenna? She’s gone to dine with the servants, but I happen to know that she’s been longing to walk on the ramparts at night.”

The manservant swallowed visibly. “Indeed? Is she a student of astronomy?”

Izzie beamed back at him. “That I cannot say, but I have no doubt that she would like to learn.”

“Eh bien…if you are certain I can’t be of service to you, my lady, I will go.” He straightened his cravat. “I don’t expect monseigneur back for several hours, so I am free to show mademoiselle the ramparts by moonlight.”

As she closed the door, Izzie felt a sharp pang in her heart. What was Gabriel doing with those sisters that would keep him there so long?

Her gaze fell on the tray of half-eaten dishes, languishing on a table in her sitting room. Ever since Justin had mentioned the Marchand sisters and their connection to Citizen Wicar, Izzie had felt queasy. Of course, she should be happy that they might have new clues about the whereabouts of the lost da Vinci portrait, but what about George?

It was a sharp reminder of how foolish and hopeless it was to harbor romantic notions toward Gabriel St. Briac. For so many years, she had longed for him in a fantasy, but this was different! Even if there were a chance that he might return her affection, the secrets she kept about her brother George created formidable barriers between them.

Don’t think about it, Izzie told herself sternly. Somehow, she would find a way to help Gabriel recover his lost painting while keeping her vow to George. And if, along the way, Izzie could steal a few magical interludes of romance with the man of her dreams, what harm could come of it?

Picking up her half-empty glass of wine, she carried it with her into the bedchamber. There were candles lit on the table beside the bed, and Lowenna had folded back the covers invitingly. Suddenly overcome with exhaustion, Izzie unpinned her hair.

As she put the pins into a Sevres porcelain box that held the few pieces of jewelry she had brought from Cornwall, Izzie glimpsed a flat, round, brown object among the prettier pieces.

It was George’s button: the one that had been dangling from his coat when they met on the muddy footpath, the same one she’d retrieved from the ground near the smuggler’s hole at Lanwyllow.

Izzie started to reach for it now, but stopped herself. Closing the porcelain box, she quickly removed her gown, stays, and spectacles, and crawled into bed wearing only her thin chemise.

No sooner had she lain back on the snowy pillow, than sleep carried her off like one of the waves surging relentlessly against Saint-Malo’s ramparts.

* * *

Gabriel was relieved

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