She worked for a smile to offer him. “I’ll take food to the guard room first. We can eat together later.”
With a weary nod, Papa turned to his bed. Once again, she was on her own.
Levi itched to do something. Anything. All this waiting drove him mad.
Ropes still bound his wrists and ankles. The guard hadn’t released him to eat, as Miss Moreau had suggested. Instead, the man had stood beside Levi and poured the stew from the bowl into his mouth. The fellow hadn’t been rough in his handling, but he possessed none of the bedside manner Miss Moreau had used.
The stew had settled well in his hungry belly, so he knew it wasn’t food that caused the unrest now stirring inside him.
Though the guard stood by the wall, casually leaning against the stone with his arms crossed and one foot cocked, his stare on Levi remained constant. The large hunting knife strapped at his waist and the tomahawk on the other side made him appear fully armed, especially since he likely had additional blades secured in places no one could see.
Sitting quietly on the fur, Levi kept his gaze casual as he took in the room around him. There seemed to be only one entrance—the door that led to the long hallway he’d been escorted down. Would they keep him guarded at all times?Did they plan to hold him long? No one had come to tell him whether the council had made a decision. Maybe they were still deliberating, although several hours must have passed by now. Surely they couldn’t find this much to discuss about him.
A soft tread sounded in the hallway, and the guard straightened, coming to full alert.
Levi focused on the door but kept the corner of his eye aware of what the guard did. The bar clanged as it slid open, then the door cracked to reveal the same lovely face that had come before.
Her smile struck him anew, its sweetness heightening her pleasing features so much that she looked like an angel. An angel bearing another tray of food.
She graced him with the smile first, then turned to the guard. “I’ve brought food for you both.” She spoke in French, but her words were easy enough to follow. Levi had never been across the channel to France, but his father made sure all three of his sons were fluent in that language, and at least passable in Spanish.
The guard studied Miss Moreau. “Is the council still meeting?”
She shook her head. “They discussed the situation and have chosen tomorrow as a day of fasting and prayer. They’ll meet again in three days to reach a decision.”
The guard frowned. Did he disagree with the plan? Or maybe he simply wished he weren’t locked in this room all day with a stranger.
Miss Moreau gave the man another of her angelic smiles. “I’m sure Brielle will come soon to speak with you. In the meantime, I brought Breton galette and warm tea.”
She turned toward Levi and lowered the tray onto the fur beside him. The aromas of pastry and some kind of meat rushed up to him, and his body reacted viscerally. His stomach rumbled, and Miss Moreau glanced up at him with a knowing smile.
His grin felt too much like a schoolboy’s as he did his best to cover. “I must be hungrier than I knew.”
“Let’s feed you then.” She turned back to the guard. “Cut him loose please, Philip, so he can eat.” Her tone commanded, and surprisingly, the guard seemed to be considering her words. This woman must be highly respected for even the armed guards to show her such deference.
She motioned toward Levi’s arms and shifted to allow the guard—Philip—better access. “Please. A man should be allowed to feed himself.” Again, her tone brooked no opposition.
After a moment, the man stepped near and moved behind Levi. “Only while he eats.”
He gripped one of Levi’s wrists, then after a moment of pressure, the strap loosened around that arm. The man unwound the cord from the wrist, then stepped back. The rope remained looped around his left arm, which would make it easier to retie him. But for now, Levi could move.
His upper arms ached as he pulled his hands around in front of him.
Miss Moreau beamed as she extended a plate loaded with two meat pastries. Again, the whiff of warm savory aromas flooded his senses.
He reached for the plate, then lifted one of the galettes to his mouth. Though he’d been prepared for a pleasant taste, the infusion of flavors that spread across his tongue sluicedthrough his body, drawing his eyes closed as he savored each nuance. He’d not eaten anything this delicious since ... he couldn’t remember when. Maybe nothing had ever been this good. Perhaps his hunger enhanced the taste, but this woman was proving she possessed a remarkable talent with food.
After the bite slid into his contented stomach, he opened his eyes to find her watching him, a secret smile curving the corners of her mouth. He lifted the remainder of the pastry. “You made this?”
She nodded, her cheeks pinking as her eyes dipped. As adorable as the look was, part of him wanted to reach forward and nudge her chin back up. She should be proud of such skill.
Instead, he settled for giving her a few paltry words. “It’s excellent. Better than excellent.” Then he focused his attention on his next bite.
As Levi filled his mouth with meat pie, Miss Moreau stood with a second plate and turned to the guard. The man took it but placed the dish on the floor by the wall with a simple, “Thank you. I’ll eat later.”
“I’m sure Brielle will come as soon as she’s able to give you more details and a guard schedule.” Miss Moreau dropped her voice and switched back to French as she spoke to the man. Surely they didn’t think they hid their words from him by speaking that language. Many Englishmen spoke fluent French. But would they know that all the way out here?
Philip nodded, though something in his expression seemed frustrated. Brielle must be the woman who dressed as a man. A leader among them, it seemed.
