What the Heart Sees Read Online Free Page A

you.”
    “Oh, but I mustn’t,” she whispered. “I dare not.”
    “There is no one here to see you, child. Take it. Touch it. Hold it to your breast. I have done all I can do, but the metal is cold and needs the warmth of a pure heart to give it life.”
    When still she hesitated, he reached around and took her hand in one of his, uncurling her fingers so that he could lay the heavy jewel in her palm. Almost instantly, she felt her skin react, though whether it was from the pendant itself or from the thought of holding something so beautiful and valuable, she could not have said. A tangible warmth started to spread up her arm, tingling across her chest and quivering down into her belly.
    “The silver comes from Damascus , the gems once belonged to a Syrian prince. Think you it should be a pendant, hung about the neck?” he was asking. “Or a brooch pinned to a comely breast or cloak?”
    “I...I have no thought as to either,” she stammered, her gaze locked to the sparkling facets.
    “Ah well, we shall leave it up to the wearer then, shall we? But do look into the heart of it, child. Tell me what you see.”
    Cassie swallowed hard and although she did not command her hand to do so, it raised the heavy pendant so that she could see into the polished surface of the mirror. She gasped a little, for the face that shone back at her was her own, yet not her own. In the reflection, her hair was full and shining, tousled about her face in a cloud of sunlight-yellow curls. Her large green eyes were wide and calm, her lips tipped at the corners as if sharing a secret smile. Her throat was slender and bare, and she was wearing a gown made of exquisite burgundy silk, brocaded with thread of gold. The very jewel she was holding lay against the bodice, and, reflected in the oval mirror was the face of a man...a man who was handsome beyond all decency. A man who looked shocking like Lord Thomas Purefoy.
    She squeezed the pendant so hard she felt a sharp prick on the fleshy part of her thumb. It was enough to draw a tiny bead of blood and to bring her senses crashing back to earth. She all but threw the pendant back on the work table, then wiped her hand down the front of her tunic over and over again trying to rid her palm of the burning impression the jewel had left.
    “What did you see?” the jeweller asked, sensing her distress.
    “Nonsense,” she whispered. “I saw nonsense.”
    He smiled and his hand groped a moment across the table until his fingers located the pendant. “What you saw was your own heart, child. You saw your heart’s fondest desire.”
    Cassie backed up toward the door. “My fondest desire is to find the armory and return to the bailey before I am missed.”
    “Of course. Of course. I have delayed you long enough. I bid you God’s speed, child, in everything you do.”
    “You as well, sir.” She started back out the door, but paused and looked back. “I did not ask your name.”
    “Godfrey,” he said, turning slightly. “I am called Godfrey the Lombard .”
    “Be well and safe, Godfrey the Lombard ,” she said, and left him to his work.
    ~~~
    Cassie found the armory—duly marked with a carved shield on the door—and returned to the smithy with her sacks filled with iron for the arrowheads. William was pleased to find several small squares of hammered steel as well. He had already culled men from the walls who were familiar with fletching and tipping, foresters and huntsmen for the most part, all of whom he set to work at once. Cassie would have preferred to remain with them and make the arrowheads, but she departed reluctantly and found her way to the bath house.
    It was located in a cluster of outbuildings near to the scullery and bread ovens, used mostly by huntsmen and visiting knights to refresh themselves before being presented to the lord. The tub was metal, lined with wood and sat on a raised platform under which fires were kept burning to keep the water hot. It was large enough to