Page 57 of Under Arthur’s Protection

“I pushed for it because—” The way he stopped told me everything I’d suspected was true. He’d pushed for the same reason I continued pushing: for Gwen. “I’m confident there’s a PR angle once we’re done with her case. With the authentication, the logistics, and the artifact, we can show people the lengths we go to for our clients. That’s worthwhile.”

Whatever his original reasons had been for pitching this job, he was right. I could file this under a marketing expense, so long as we actually did the marketing.

“I agree,” I said. “I’m just second-guessing myself.”

“Some things never change.” He chuckled. “So how’s Gwen?”

“Working hard, but she was in a better mood today.”

“Better than what? She was fine when I talked to her last night.”

How much could I tell him? Bridget had hinted at Gwen’s past, and what Gwen had told me on the ferry had filled in the rest. Did Lance know the details? They’d dated, but I hadn’t asked for how long or how close they’d been. Had she told him about Lionel?

The possibility didn’t sit right. I didn’t want him to know before me.

You’re being petty.

I was. But she’d trusted me with her story. That meant something. It had felt like a bond between us. But if Lance already knew what had happened, maybe I’d imagined our connection last night.

Or maybe she was trying to make me feel better. Maybe she saw a parallel between Lionel’s abuse of authority and my father’s. Maybe she was trying to show me that people in power always do what they want and the rest of us have to limp along and do the best we can.

The truth was, some people thought less of Gwen for what Lionel had done, exactly like I had people who thought less of me for my father’s decisions. The “Camelot or Mercenary Outfit?” article was certainly proof of that.

“Arthur? You there?”

“Yeah, sorry.” I had to check. Had to probe the edges and find out what he knew. “She had a rough time in Glastonbury. Someone recognized her name and made some comments that bothered her.”

“Comments about what?” His voice held confusion, with a hint of protectiveness. He didn’t know.

A completely illogical and misplaced warmth bloomed in my fucking chest. So I waved the story aside. “Some publishing shit that flew over my head, but it meant a lot to her.”

“Academics,” Lance groaned, and I could almost see him rolling his eyes. “Is she okay?”

“She is now.” I left it and quickly changed the topic. “I should call Merlin. We may need him to recruit a backup if Morganna can’t or won’t join us.”

“I’ll take care of it. And I’ll call Gawain—he likes me better. Plus I’ve got more downtime than you.” Right. He hadn’t answered when I’d asked about his leg of the trip earlier.

“How was the archive? I assume you didn’t find anything either way, or you would have called?”

“The building’s incredible, like everything here, but half the documents they pulled for me are in medieval Latin, and the rest are in medieval Italian. I’ve got a translator booked for tomorrow morning.”

“Good, good.” I yawned. The drive had apparently left me tired, too. “Call me with anything you find.”

“Will do.”

“Night, brother.” I ended the call and stared at the phone.

Lance was being an ass about the whole Gwen thing, and he was obviously jealous I was with the asset. Maybe he did want to get into her pants, like I’d guessed when he’d originally suggested we take on her protection detail. Or back into her pants?

Don’t go there, Penn. Don’t go⁠—

Had they slept together?

You went there.

When Lance said he’d dated someone, it started and ended with sex. Once feelings got involved, he bolted. Every time.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Gwen was my client, and her past relationships were not relevant, no matter how Lance was acting.