Page 15 of The Darkest Oath

He shook his head. “No, you have not misunderstood,” he said with a hesitant smile. “You have stolen my words yet again, Mademoiselle.” The brisk spring winds whipped through them as if telling him to “Go, now.” But he defied it, unable to draw himself away. “Do you need my assistance with your non-deliveries, or do you want me to leave you alone?”

He bit back his error. He should have left, but something within needed the absolute confirmation of her desire for him to leave.

“I want you to . . .” Her voice trailed off as she cradled the bread in her arm and again adjusted the flap. “I want . . . or rather . . . if you have the time . . . I request your assistance.” She kept her eyes on the bread.

“I’m glad to,” he said and stepped out of her way.

Her eyes snapped to his with a furrowed brow. “And you want nothing in return. I cannot pay you for your time.”

“I want nothing but your company,” he said and hated himself for it.

Both corners of her mouth lifted, and her eyes seemed to be at peace. It was enough for him to forgive himself.

“I think you might be getting the raw end of the deal,” she chuckled.

“I doubt that,” he said and gestured to hold the bread for her, to which she refused. He folded his hands behind his back as they walked. It was foolish to let his heart venture into this acquaintanceship. He had already vowed long ago when Amée passed in his arms never to let himself linger near love, for his sake and the one who held his heart. “I wanted to hear you speak again,” he said. “Will you also be atAu Pain Rouxtonight?”

She straightened up and turned her shoulders to him. “I must tell you why I acted the way I did the last time we spoke. I was not sure of your intentions at our meeting place. There are rumors to be wary of newcomers.”

“And why is that?” he asked.

She spat the question. “Are you an informant, Rollant? Are you here to throw us in prison?”

His eyebrows lifted high. “You have a straightforward nature, Élise. It fits you well,” he said with eyes that ran over her face. “And no, I shan’t be doing anything of the sort.”

Her head inclined, and he finally put two and two together: Au Pain Roux and Gabin Roux. His mind flashed seeing her two weeks prior and the hesitant glances she gave to the same few men, or had it been only to a single man?

Before she replied, he asked, “Does Gabin own the bakery?”

“Yes,” she said, unsure where this line of inquiry would go.

“Do you live there with him?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, and her cheeks turned red. “If you are of an old soul, you would not like the answer.”

“I believe in God,” he replied, “but I’m sure he has no use for me anymore.”

She pulled the sleeve of her shirt down on her wrist, where he noticed a bruise.

“Why do you ask?” Her eyes were cast down, not on him.

“I couldn’t help but notice the bruise you tried to hide on your shoulder the last I saw you and the bruise on your wrist today. The way you said Gabin Roux as if he was an important figure in the community and that you ’were his woman’, instead of ‘we are together.’”

“It’s a hard life,” she scoffed, eyes still averted. “You get hurt working. I’m sure you are no stranger to bruises during your service at sea.”

He gently guided her cheek so that her eyes followed to align with his. Her irises betrayed her—the deep depths swirling in doubt and despair. “If Gabin is hurting you, I will not stand for it. If I see it or hear it, I will take action,” he gritted. Many women were beaten by their husbands. He ignored it and sat in his attic apartment, letting the times change naturally, but it infuriated him that another man dared lay hands on the one before him. He had never beaten Amée. He loved her too much to treat her as property. It seemed his thinking was an out-of-place norm, but he never cared about social norms anyway.

“Don’t worry, then.” She snapped her face from his touch, and he replaced his hand behind his back. “You’ll never see it, and you’ll never be around to hear it,” she replied, validating his assumption. “And if you did anything to Gabin, this whole community would hang you from the streetlamps.”

He leaned in. “They could try,” he said with a smirk.

She laughed with a jolt and wiped away a sudden, runaway tear. “You have a good heart, Rollant. ” Her voice was thick. “I can tell already. Not too many men like you.” She sniffed and hardened her stare. “But stay away from Gabin. Do not cross him. Not for my sake. The world needs good men. And this community needs Gabin. He feeds them for cheap. He isn’t completely horrible.”

“Are these then free meals from Gabin?” He gestured to the bread in her arms.

She chuckled and wiped away another tear. A row of teeth bit into her bottom lip as she shook her head. “This is my free meal from Gabin. My daily wage for working for him.”

“You share yourearnedmeal with others? I would argue it is not free.” Rollant tilted his head in awe of such a woman—sharing when she had so little.

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