He put his arm around the woman and let his hand slip down to squeeze her nicely rounded bottom as he pulled her inside. With another wink and a grin, he tossed a gold coin to the guard and kicked the door closed.
He moved his hand to the woman’s arm and guided her to a seat. With languid ease, the woman sank into the chair.
Linnet was scowling at him furiously.
“My name is Sybille,” the woman said in her sultry voice.
“You are a friend of Claudette’s?”
The woman nodded. “I’ve just come from Paris, where I saw her. She asked me to carry some news to you. Something she thought you should know.”
An hour later, Stephen walked her to the door.
“Thank you, Sybille,” he said. “I hope coming here has not put you at risk.”
The woman shrugged her shoulders and gave him an unconcerned smile. “The guards know me. I have visited important guests at the Palais before.”
Stephen reached into the pouch at his belt, wondering how much a woman like this cost.
Sybille put her hand over his and shook her head. “I owe Claudette a favor.”
She ran her tongue over her top lip and leaned forward until her breasts were a hair’s breadth from his chest. She smelled divine.
“Since it is a very big favor I owe her, I could…”
“I appreciate the offer, and you are breathtaking,” he said, putting his hand to his heart, “but I cannot.”
She gave a soft laugh. “You made me lose my wager with Claudette.”
With a saucy wink at François that made the boy blush crimson to his ears, Sybille went out the door, hips swaying.
Stephen sat down to think. What the courtesan told him changed everything.
Chapter Thirty-two
Stephen donned his showy clothes—the heavy gold belt, particolored hose, and all the rest—for his grand departure. He had no choice but to leave the city. A dozen heavily armed men waited outside to make sure he did.
Guy le Bouteiller, the garrison commander, rode beside Stephen to the gate. Stephen liked le Bouteiller and was glad for the opportunity to have a few words with him.
“I am flattered,” Stephen said, glancing at the column of men armed to the teeth, “but how much trouble do you think these two children and I could cause on our way to the gate?”
“ ’Tis not what you would do that concerns me,” le Bouteiller said, returning the smile. “Let’s just say there are men in Rouen who might wish to answer the king of England by returning his envoy without his head.”
“I tell you,” Stephen said, “an honorable man like you would be happier serving King Henry.”
Le Bouteiller did not dispute the point.
Before they parted at the gate Stephen said, “The men of this city make a grave mistake by spurning his peaceful offer.”
“Return in a few months,” le Bouteiller said in a low voice. “Much could change by then.”
“The city should take the generous terms he offers now,” Stephen said, not bothering to keep his own voice down. “Next time, King Henry will come himself, and he will bring his army.”
With that last warning, Stephen turned his horse. He signaled to the twins to follow and galloped out the city gates.
Isobel felt Linnet’s absence so keenly in her rooms that she simply had to get out for a little while. She slipped down the stairs, intent on reaching the courtyard unseen. Perhaps everything would not seem so very hopeless in the sunshine.
Seeing Stephen again—and then having him leave her in anger—left her ragged and shaken. Losing the twins at the same time was more than God should ask of her. The gaping hole in her heart would never heal.