Justin jumped to his feet, afraid she might give him details of the sad tale. Gilda’s ability to catch him off guard was exhausting. “It’s been a long day. Let’s join the others at supper,” he said.
When they arrived in the great hall, it was crowded, and the meal was already underway. Count Cedric spotted Justin and waved him to a place at the head table. Gilda was about to leave him to join Freda when she noticed the young man seated beside Cedric. She grabbed Justin’s arm before he could leave her side.
“You’re touching me,” he pointed out brusquely.
“Look there, Justin. The man beside Cedric. He’s one of the men who came to Saint Ives looking for Mariel.”
The young man she was nodding toward spotted Gilda. His expression was one of shock when he saw she was speaking to Justin. He leaned over and spoke to Count Cedric.
“You’re right. Is he the same one you saw on the stairs this afternoon?” When Gilda nodded, he added, “I’ll find out who he is and why he was at Saint Ives.”
From her seat beside Freda, Gilda kept her attention on Justin as he spoke with the count. For once she took little notice of the food being passed along the table.
It appeared to Gilda that introductions were being made, and then an intense discussion ensued. She could imagine Justin enquiring as to why the young man had been at Saint Ives, and especially why he had disappeared the next morning without an explanation. The young man stood up; then Cedric spoke to him, and he sat down again. Even from a distance, Gilda could tell the young man was upset. A handsome youth, she judged him to be only a few years older than Mariel. His eyes appeared frantic as he looked toward Gilda again.
“You haven’t even touched your food,” Freda whispered. “Why are you staring at the high table?”
“The young man beside Count Cedric. He looks a bit like the count, don’t you think?”
As Gilda asked the question, both she and Freda saw the object of their study point his finger over to Gilda. Both Count Cedric and Justin glanced in her direction and then leaned their heads toward each other. Their intense discussion continued.
“It appears they are discussing you, Gilda,” Freda pointed out. “Why would that be?”
At her question, Gilda pushed her food away. She remembered the scene in the garden shed and being swept up in Justin’s arms. She prayed the young man wasn’t telling the count that he had found them together, but she felt sure that’s what he was doing. When Justin glanced at her again, there was a strange look on his face. It seemed to hold an expression of concern that Gilda hadn’t seen before.
“I need to talk to you, Freda,” Gilda said, rising from her seat.
“But you haven’t touched your meal. Aren’t you feeling well?”
Freda saw the color drain from Gilda’s face as she glanced one last time at the high table. Without another word, the older woman stood, following Gilda from the hall. By the time they reached their rooms, Freda was out of breath from rushing up the stairs to keep up with Gilda. The older nun lowered herself to a bench and watched Gilda pace the floor of the common area.
Gilda forgot about Freda as she tried to imagine what had taken place at the high table. There seemed little doubt that the young man had made an accusation about her association with Justin. What would Justin tell the count? Why did he have that strange look on his face?
She remembered that Justin hadn’t wanted her along in the first place. Perhaps to explain the situation, he was telling some story about her trying to seduce him. She dismissed the idea at once. Justin was an honorable man. She knew that. He said he would take care of it, and she believed him. But how was he going to explain what had happened in the shed without giving away the fact that they were hiding Lady Mariel? She hoped he wouldn’t need to do that.
Gilda was flushed with embarrassment as she remembered the scene. At the time, she hadn’t minded the heady experience of being lifted in Justin’s arms. But now she realized that her reputation could be severely damaged by their embrace. It would mean the end of her opportunities to work outside the convent. No one would seek her help. Because she was burning up, she pulled off her head covering and shook out her hair.
“Gilda, stop pacing. You’re making me light-headed. You said you wanted to speak to me, so speak.”
Reminded of Freda’s presence, Gilda rushed to sit beside her and took her hands. “Justin embraced me in the shed at Saint Ives. The young man at the head table was surely telling the count about it.”
The puzzled look on Freda’s face told Gilda she was making a muddle of her explanation. “Remember the night we found Lady Mariel asleep in the garden shed? Two men arrived on horseback. We feared they were looking for Mariel, and Justin hid her. Then he embraced me as the men opened the door of the shed. The embrace was meant to be a distraction. One of those men, the younger one, was at the head table tonight. The one sitting beside the count.”
“Was that the only distraction Lord Justin could think of?”
“That’s what I asked him!”
Freda’s puzzled expression had disappeared, and she seemed to consider what Gilda had told her. “I understand your concern. But Lord Justin is used to dealing with the most powerful men in the land, including the king. His reputation for solving problems and negotiating between enemies is legend. He’s sure to think of a way out of this predicament,” she assured Gilda.
Gilda nodded, but her eyes were full of doubt. She couldn’t help but feel she carried a lot of the
