Katherine felt a quiver of alarm. She had known that even the most trustworthy of men might be tempted by her treasure, perhaps not for greed, but for the glory that such a find could bring them.
‘I have not told you what it is, sir,’ she reminded him. ‘It may be that my father was mistaken…’
‘Would you let me read his writings?’ Alain asked. His eyes were steady on her face but held warmth, a concern that made her heart race. For a moment she thought that his feelings towards her were more than mere courtesy. ‘If I gave you my solemn word that I will return them to you when we reach England, would you trust me?’
Katherine hesitated, and then nodded. Instinct told her that if she could not trust this man, then she could trust no one. She crossed the room to where a plant in a great earthenware pot stood in an alcove and lifted it, revealing a flat leather pouch. Hesitating but a moment, she picked up the pouch and handed it to Alain.
‘You will find my father’s writing hard to decipher, sir, for he had a small neat hand, and in places he has used his own code. From these you will not learn the nature of his treasure, only the details of his research. There were fuller descriptions of his work, but they were lost with his baggage. I believe there is enough left to give credence to his discovery, but you may study these and give me your opinion.’
‘I thank you for your trust in me, Katherine,’ Alain said and hesitated, then reached out to touch her cheek. It was the merest graze of his fingers, but it sent tremors running through her, and his smile made her blush. ‘You may be certain that I shall keep the nature of your secret to myself—though I am bound by friendship to tell Bryne that the Lord of Ravenshurst is your enemy.’
‘I dare say Sir Bryne is a man you can trust,’ Katherine replied, for, if he was Alain’s friend, how could he be otherwise? ‘You may tell him as much as I have told you should you think it right.’
Alain inclined his head. ‘In future I believe you should take care in walking alone, Katherine. At least until we are in England.’
‘I am grateful for your kindness, sir, and for the opportunity to confide in you. It is a heavy burden I carry, and I confess that I do not know what to do for the best.’
‘Will you allow me to help you once I have read and thought about your father’s work? If I am convinced that his discovery is truly important, I would count it an honour to see it placed where it might be of benefit to all of our faith.’ His eyes met hers in a gaze that held her fast. ‘The question is—will you trust me, lady?’
Chapter Three
‘I t seems that I already have, sir,’ Katherine replied and her heart skipped a beat as his look seemed to caress her. There was something about the curve of his mouth and the expression in his eyes then that made her feel that she might trust him with more than her secret. When he looked at her in that way she was ready to swoon. She could almost believe that he might feel more than friendship towards her. No, that was mere wishful thinking on her part and foolish. ‘In truth I believe I have no choice.’
Alain reached out to take her hand, holding it for a moment as he gazed into her face. ‘I thank you for that trust, Katherine, and do swear to assist you in your task to find the right home for your father’s treasure.’
‘But where should that be?’ Katherine asked. The question had exercised her mind all too often. ‘In a great church or in the house of some powerful king?’
‘That is a weighty question and not one that can be answered immediately,’ he replied. ‘And now, my lady, may I take you to supper? It was for this purpose that I came, fortunately in time to hear Maria’s screams.’
‘Yes, I thank you,’ she replied and laid her hand on the arm he offered. She could see from Maria’s expression that she believed she had spoken too freely to Sir Alain—but what else could she do? She must trust someone, for it seemed that the Lord of Ravenshurst was determined to steal her treasure no matter what.
She had told Sir Alain nothing of her suspicions of Celestine, Katherine realised, as they went into the banqueting hall and discovered that Celestine was already there, sharing a glass of wine with Sir Bryne and a tall, handsome gentleman. Celestine was smiling invitingly up at the newcomer, seeming to enjoy his attention. Observing his manner for a moment, Katherine guessed that he was the owner of the villa.
Marcus Aurelius Calabria had returned to Rome from his travels and was delighted to find he had unexpected guests. Especially one as beautiful as the Lady de Charlemagne.
He turned as Alain approached, greeting him with evident pleasure, his eyes moving over Katherine without registering interest and returning to Celestine almost immediately.
‘It was the most delightful surprise to discover that we had company,’ he murmured. ‘I do trust that you are to remain with me for some time?’
‘For a few days only,’ Sir Bryne replied as Celestine merely fluttered her long lashes at him. ‘The ship we travel on is making repairs and should be ready to sail within the week—but, for myself, I intend to return to Rome often. With the opportunities for trade that have opened to us, I think I may make a home in Venice one day. I would see England and my family, but I think the climate there too dark and dank to hold me forever.’
‘It is often the case with those who have seen other lands,’ Marcus replied with a smile. ‘I have visited your country, Bryne, as you know, and formed friendships with your father and others—but I would not care to live there. It is a dark, gloomy place, too full of mists and frosts for my liking.’
‘Indeed, I wonder if I shall find my home too gloomy,’ Celestine said and fluttered her long lashes at him. ‘Especially after seeing your beautiful home, sir. I had not known such places existed.’
‘I thank you for your compliment,’ he said and inclined his head to her. ‘We live much as our ancestors in ancient Rome, lady, for my family have a long tradition. In the north we have a castle as dark and cavernous as any you might have encountered, for my uncle is Duke of Ferencia and guards his lands as best he may. I have been visiting with him for a time, but here in my summer home I enjoy the simple life. In Rome we have no enemies and may walk freely as we will.’ He saw Alain’s frown and raised his brow. ‘Something troubles you, my friend?’
‘I would have a few private words with you, Marcus,’ Alain replied and drew him away from the Lady Celestine. In a moment Marcus was heard to exclaim and look angry and then he and Alain left the room together, deep in conversation.
‘What has happened?’ Celestine asked, startled by such a change in her host’s behaviour. She was slightly annoyed, for she had felt that she was making a favourable impression upon their host.
‘Sir Alain drove off two men who were searching my room,’ Katherine told her. ‘They had knocked Maria down and might have killed her had he not arrived in time.’
‘God have mercy!’ Celestine had gone pale and crossed herself. ‘Thank goodness you were in the garden with me, otherwise you might have been hurt, Katherine.’
Katherine frowned. The older woman seemed concerned for her and it would be churlish to suspect her of having asked her to walk in the gardens merely to get her away from her room. She noticed that Bryne’s eyes had narrowed, that he was looking very thoughtful. What could have brought that expression to his face?
‘Yes, I was fortunate,’ she said. ‘But my poor Maria might not have been had Sir Alain not chanced to hear her cry.’
‘Maria is a servant—’ Celestine began and then realised her mistake. ‘But of course I know that she is dear to you. Yet I cannot help be thankful that it was she who discovered the villains and not you, Kate.’
Katherine gave her a cold look. ‘Maria is my friend, not a servant. Please remember