That fear was still there, but it didn’thurt, didn’t make her whole being shrink back in horror. It no longer felt like an open wound.
And Gwen was okay with having a few scars.
She glanced longingly at the bed, but it was midday, and Olivia was there, and the bustle and chatter of the town outside was loud …
And Isobelle sat as still as a statue, staring at the fireplace, her gaze distant.
‘Well,’ said Olivia, finally breaking the silence. ‘I suppose …’
But there, even Olivia’s legendarily clever tongue failed her.
Gwen still found a tangle of conflicting emotions rising in her every time she looked at Isobelle’s maid. She trusted Olivia to be their ally, to help them – or help Isobelle – but she could not shake the underlying sting of betrayal. But, looking at her now, Gwen felt a swell of sympathy as she took in Olivia’s somewhat lost and bewildered expression.
She drew a breath. ‘Perhaps we ought to—’
‘Is my father a member of your Order?’ blurted Isobelle, colour rising to her cheeks and animating her once more.
Olivia’s eyes fixed on Isobelle and she gave a helpless shrug. ‘I am not allowed to say.’
Isobelle’s eyes flashed, making Gwen glad she was not the object of her ire. ‘Olivia, if you keep holding back all your secrets, I will … I will …’
Gwen swallowed and broke in gently, ‘Isobelle … I think shecan’tsay. Isn’t that right?’ Her gaze flicked over to Isobelle’s stricken maid, who nodded miserably.
Isobelle’s eyes widened. ‘A spell? They make you accept some curse of silence?’
‘It is voluntary,’ Olivia said swiftly. ‘When I was first sent to watch over you, it was meant to be for six months only. When I requested to stay on in my duty, they …’ Her lips closed again, and a look of consternation crept over her features.
Isobelle stared at her. ‘Why would they insist you undergo a spell like that, all of a sudden?’
‘To make sure she could not betray the Order.’ Gwen’s eyes moved between Isobelle and Olivia, who was staring grimly at the floor, her jaw clenched. ‘Not even if her loyalties began to change.’
Isobelle’s anger drained away, her customarily volatile emotions as easy to read on her face as they had everbeen. Confusion, hurt and doubt were there, but so were tenderness and affection.
‘If you can’t say whether Tabitha is right about Lord Avington, can you at least say no, if she was wrong?’ Gwen asked cautiously.
Olivia’s eyes lifted to meet Gwen’s, and she said nothing at all – she just lifted one hand, finger extended towards the ceiling.
‘He’s more than a member,’ Gwen interpreted, brow furrowing. ‘He’s …’ Realisation crashed down upon her. ‘Oh god … he’s theleader? Does he know Isobelle is here?’
‘I didn’t tell him what Isobelle’s letter contained, only that I needed to return to her.’
‘Wait…’ Isobelle, reeling, narrowed her eyes at Olivia. ‘That’swhere you went when you left Darkhaven? Reporting back to my father?’
A line stood out along Olivia’s jaw as she clenched it. ‘I read the letter your parents sent you. I thought that if I made a case for your independence in person, they might listen. Understand that this is no silly fling, no phase you might grow out of…’
‘You went there for us?’ Gwen’s throat tightened, her heart thudding with a sudden hope. ‘Did they…’
Olivia only shook her head.
Isobelle was still regarding her maid with narrowed eyes. ‘You lied to me about that too. You told me you were going on family business.’
Olivia looked at her, face set with stubborn dignity. ‘I didn’t lie,’ she murmured. ‘I went on behalf of my family.’
Gwen’s breath caught, and she bit her lip as she looked at Isobelle. The other girl’s eyes filled with tears, and she leaned forward as if wishing to run to her old friend and embrace her. Gwen had seen how important Olivia was to Isobelle from her first day in Darkhaven Castle, but Olivia kept her feelings to herself.
But of course Olivia loves Isobelle too, Gwen thought.Who could know Isobelle and not love her?
Too overwhelmed to respond as she might wish, Isobelle dashed her tears away and buried her face in her palms. ‘What you’re saying can’t be true,’ she mumbled. ‘My father is just a diplomat. He …’
