Claire Delacroix Read Online Free PDF Page A

dispassionate gaze. “I beg you, Chevalier, grant my offer the consideration it deserves before making your decision Perricault is not a poor prize.”
    She waited, but he still said nothing. The knight merely peered into his chalice, a slight frown marring his brows.
    Had he forgotten her?
    This interview was not progressing exactly as Gabrielle had expected. Indeed, he was supposed to leap at the prize of Perricault.
    But this man had not.
    Perhaps he needed time to consider the matter. The silence pressed so against her ears that she could not stand it. Gabrielle set down her cup and stepped toward the flap.
    “If you could decide this evening, I should appreciate knowing which way the wind blows.” She made to step out into the afternoon, but his low words brought her to a halt.
    “There is no need to wait. My decision is made.”
    Gabrielle spun to face the knight, her heart in her throat, her fingers clenched tightly on the silken tent. To her consternation, she could not discern his conclusion from his expression.
    Then the knight shook his head minutely and Gabrielle knew.
    No! Her heart plummeted to her toes, even before his words found voice.
    “I decline your generous offer, just as I declined the Lord de Tulley’s offer to take this cause.”
    Rage erupted within Gabrielle, and she closed the space between them before she paused to think. “You cannot do this! I must have your aid in this matter!”
    “You do not have it,” he countered calmly.
    “Then I shall lead my troops upon Perricault myself!” Gabrielle propped her hands on her hips, content to see the knight’s eyes narrow slightly.
    At least it was some sign that he had heard her.
    “You cannot do that,” he argued coolly. “You cannot have the experience to plan a successful strategy.”
    “I am sick to death of that argument, and believe me, Chevalier, I have heard it more oft than was welcome!” Gabrielle retorted. “There is no reason why I should not lead an attack, for I know that keep better than all others!”
    The knight, though, shook his head, evidently unconvinced.
    “Men will not follow you, or if they do, you will not be able to rely upon them. Should you proceed thus, my lady, you will only bring about your own demise and that of your followers.”
    “I shall have to do so, despite your arguments, and do so without delay!” Gabrielle retorted, her patience with men and their reasoning completely expired. She had tried to solve this problem without letting her emotions muddle matters, but this pushed her too far. “With or without your aid, I will save my son and I will do it soon!”
    The knight pursed his lips and folded his arms across his chest as he scrutinized her. His eyes blazed like molten gold and Gabrielle knew she had said something that had securely snared his attention.
    “Your son?” he echoed.
    “Yes, my son! ” Once uncorked, it seemed Gabrielle’s passion could not be contained. “My son was captured by that miserable, scheming Philip and I will not tolerate his being used as a pawn in Philip’s plans. He is just a child!” Gabrielle wagged a finger at the knight before her. “One way or the other, I shall see Thomas free, even if it is the last thing I do!”
    The knight frowned, looked away, then impaled Gabrielle with a bright glance. “Is he your only child?”
    “Yes! Yes, he is!”
    To her own dismay, Gabrielle began to cry. Hers was not the delicate weeping of a refined woman, but the manner of crying that comes from the heart and leaves a woman looking her ravaged worst.
    “He is only six summers of age!” she blurted out, without knowing why she confided this particular fact. “He will not understand what is happening!”
    To Gabrielle’s relief, the knight did not rush forward to console her or touch her with a familiarity undeserved. He simply stood back and let her cry.
    And watched, a concerned frown marring his brow. To herastonishment, his expression had softened slightly.