Page 72 of While Angels Slept
Gillywiss nodded faintly, still eyeing her. “Then you have my thanks,” he said quietly. “My sister has already lost three children. You have given her new hope.”
Cantia looked over her shoulder at the woman feeding the newborn, seeing the joy on her face. “Hope is what keeps us all alive,” she said softly. “Peasant or nobleman, it is what drives us to rise in the morning and look forward to a new day. Hope is what keeps us bound to our loved ones and wish better things for them.”
“Is that what keeps you bound to Winterton?”
Cantia turned to look at the man, some hesitance in her expression. “I am bound to him because I love him and for no other reason than that.”
“But you can never be his wife.”
“Perhaps that will change one day.”
“Is that what you hope for?”
Cantia paused, her brow furrowing in thought. “Aye,” she whispered after a moment. “I suppose I do.”
“Then why does he not find his wife?” Gillywiss wanted to know. “If he wants you to be his bride, why does he not find the one who deserted him and his daughter? I do not understand.”
Wearily, Cantia sank to the stool next to him, feeling very depressed and exhausted all of a sudden. She had no idea why she continued to share her darkest secrets with a man she didn’t even know. Originally it had been to gain his sympathy. Perhaps now it was because he seemed rather wise as an outsider looking in.
“He does not know where, exactly, she is,” she shrugged after amoment. “The woman’s father thought perhaps she had run off to Paris, but it all happened so long ago. It is quite possible she is no longer alive.”
“But it is equally possible that she is,” he said. “If Winterton loves you, why does he not do all he can to find her?”
Cantia sighed gently, her gaze lingering on the woman and child near the fire. “He will,” she insisted softly. “To be truthful, we have not… well, we have not been together very long. There has not been much time for him to search out his wife. Perhaps he will eventually, provided that… well, provided that I return to him.”
Gillywiss watched the pain and fear ripple across her features. “Is that what you wish?” he asked.
She turned to look at him as if surprised by the question. “Of course it is.”
Gillywiss studied her a moment before cocking his head thoughtfully. “If you had a choice, what would you wish for most? To be returned to your warlord or to discover the fate of his wife?”
“To be returned to him.”
“You say that without hesitation.”
“I say it because I love him. As long as we are together, all else is secondary.”
Gillywiss could see she meant it. He found his gaze returning to his sister, who was cooing sweetly to her new son. One of the attending women opened the elaborate hut door and the woman’s husband came in, bursting into tears when he saw the healthy boy. Gillywiss watched the scene, the strong emotions involved, and could not help but be moved by it.
Gillywiss was an odd man and a very strong leader. He’d lead his little group of outlaws for quite some time, earning their respect as well as their fear. He was unpredictable and perhaps a little mad at times, but he was cunning and intelligent. He was also a man with a secret, something that had become evident as he had pawed through Cantia’s clothing.
In a world where men were defined by their behavior, demeanor and deeds, Gillywiss would spend hours alone and in hiding, dressing in women’s clothing and wondering if he looked beautiful. He felt far more comfortable with women than with men, which is why he felt much pity for the lady of Rochester. She was in love with a man she could never marry, a fine woman with a compassionate heart, and he instinctively felt pity for her. Much like him, she was suffering in silence.
“Paris,” he repeated, more to himself than to Cantia. “I have relatives in Paris. Perhaps I should send word to them to see if they have ever heard of this Louisa of Hesse.”
Cantia looked at him with surprise. “Why would you do such a thing?”
Gillywiss was looking at his sister as he spoke. “In truth, I do not know,” he suddenly grinned that wild toothy grin that Cantia had seen before. “Perhaps because you have saved my sister and my new nephew. Perhaps because you have shown me you are not the typical noble bitch we have all come to expect. You have paid us a good deed and perhaps I should show you one as well.”
Cantia could hardly dare to hope. “If that is true, then all I would wish for is to go home. Please, Gillywiss. It is all I could want.”
Gillywiss pulled his gaze off his sister and focused on Cantia, seeing the utter eagerness and faith in her eyes. He could feel himself relenting.
“We will discuss it in the morning,” he finally said. “Nothing can be done tonight. Perhaps I will send you home and send word to Paris anyway. My family lives in the crevices and underground of that great and dirty city. They know everything. Perhaps they will know.”
Cantia fought off tears of relief as she sighed heavily, a great release of fear and sorrow and anticipation. She wouldn’t push Gillywiss anymore this night. He had promised to speak on the matter more in the morning and she looked forward to that moment.
She was murmuring quiet prayers that she would see Tevin again very soon when distant shouts caught their attention. Gillywiss boltedfrom the stool and threw the door open, his sharp gaze moving over the darkened encampment. Cantia went to stand behind him, puzzled, as the cries of alarm grew louder. She could hear the thunder of horses and the screams of men. Before Gillywiss ran off, he told Cantia to go back inside and bolt the door. As he ran away, Cantia didn’t obey. She charged out into the darkness to see what was amiss.
