Almost Innocent Read Online Free Page A

again. “I will not expect an answer.” He turned from her, taking Lord Bellair’s arm and moving out of earshot of the group. There was no laughter now in his voice. “Does the child know aught of my mission?”
    Bellair shook his head, and the frown was back on his brow. “I thought it best not to trouble her with it. She has a vivid imagination and a certain liveliness that is not always well placed. If she took against the idea—” He shrugged. “I saw little point in being obliged to deal prematurely with any difficulties.”
    “Quite so.” De Gervais stroked his chin, turning to look again at the child, who still stood rather awkwardly beside her aunt. “She knows nothing . . . suspects nothing?”
    Bellair shook his head again. “She believes me to be her father.”
    “And her mother?”
    “Magdalen knows only that she died in childbed. For one so innately inquisitive, she has shown little curiosity about the subject.”
    “It has been a troublesome charge?” The blue eyes gleamed suddenly with a shaft of comprehension.
    “Not a light one,” his companion said after a moment’s consideration. “We have done what we can, but there is a strangeness about her that I will not deny to you. I have been unable to eradicate it. Father Clement would have it that we have been too lenient and must tear out the evil, root and branch, from the soul.” He pulled distressfully at his beard. “But I am not convinced there is evil in her.” He fell into a troubled silence, as if he would say more but hesitated to do so.
    “Then what do you suspect?” de Gervais prompted gently.
    Bellair shrugged. “Her birth was accursed. She must bear the mark.”
    Guy de Gervais frowned. It was not impossible, and if there was a taint, while it would not change the plans made for her, it would be as well for those concerned to be forearmed against its manifestations. “I would talk privately with her, if you have no objections,” he said. “I would like to gain some impression of her character. We do not wish to tarry here overlong, and since the matter must be brought to conclusion, it is best done so without delay.”
    “The betrothal?”
    “By proxy this evening, if it can be so arranged.”
    “After vespers,” Lord Bellair agreed. “You will inform her yourself?”
    “Unless you wish to.” He smiled courteously.
    “I lay no claims to the task. She will listen as well to you as to me.”
    De Gervais made no comment to this, and they went back to the group by the fire.
    “Magdalen, Lord de Gervais wishes to talk privately with you,” Lord Bellair said, kicking at a slipping log in the hearth. “Keep your tongue moderate and heed him well.”
    Magdalen looked in startlement at the knight in question. What business could such a splendid figure possibly have with her?
    He bowed ceremoniously, although there was more than a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Will you honor me with your company on a short walk, Lady Magdalen?”
    Flustered, Magdalen curtsied. “Indeed, sir, if you wish it.” She placed her hand tentatively on the proffered arm, and he immediately covered it with his own hand. In this stately fashion, they left the great hall, going out into the raw morning.
    “Shall we walk in the pleasaunce?” he asked. “It will be sheltered from the wind.”
    “If you wish it,” the figure at his side repeated with a dull docility that did not ring true.
    He looked down at her. “But do you wish it,
damoiselle?”
    She turned her face up to meet his eyes. “In truth, sir, I would prefer to walk upon the battlements. It is usually forbidden, but with your escort . . .” She left the sentence unfinished, but her face was alive with eagerness.
    “If you are not fearful of the wind,” he said agreeably, directing his step toward the stone stairs to the battlements, “then indeed we will do so.”
    They climbed up, and the wind was certainly rough and needle-sharp, but Magdalen seemed unaware of