Free Mistaken for a Lady by Carol Townend Page B

punishment had been swift and sure. Queen Eleanor had reportedly been carted off to England, where she had been incarcerated; and the rebel lords who had supported the princes had also been punished—King Henry’s army had laid waste huge tracts of land in Brittany.
    Tristan gave a rueful smile. ‘Aye. King Henry wanted to keep an eye on Prince Geoffrey, so he summoned him to England. And since I was keeping an eye on the prince—on behalf of the duchy—I had to go too. In the end, settlement with the king and his sons was reached at Montlouis. Later, the treaty was confirmed in Falaise.’
    â€˜Sir Ernis told me that after the revolt, the duchy was ready to fall apart.’
    Tristan grimaced. ‘That’s putting it mildly. There was a complete breakdown of law and order. Disgruntled lords and self-styled knights with no pretensions to chivalry jumped at the chance to grab what they could. Every knight with a half-baked claim to the meanest acre fielded a minor army to bolster his claim. It was chaos.’
    Slowly, Francesca shook her head. ‘I heard rumours, of course, but I didn’t realise the extent of the trouble.’
    Something was niggling away at the back of her mind. Her breath caught. Her letters! Had they gone astray? With Tristan moving hither and yon, it was easy to see that they might have got lost. Meeting his eyes, she watched carefully for his reaction.
    â€˜Tristan?’
    â€˜Mmm?’
    â€˜Did you get my letters?’
    He must have jerked on the reins, for his horse jibbed. ‘What letters?’ His expression was puzzled, other than that it was unreadable.
    â€˜Tristan, you have to know I have been writing to you. I sent you several letters, long ones, the last in October.’
    â€˜Where did you send them?’
    â€˜Château des Iles.’
    Tristan’s gaze burned into her—he was watching her as closely as she was watching him. ‘I received no letters. When I was in England, I left instructions for Roparz to forward me my correspondence. I never got anything from you.’
    â€˜That can’t be right.’
    â€˜I received no letters from you.’
    Francesca ached to believe him. Their life together had been short and her knowledge of Tristan’s character was limited, but she’d never known him to lie. She made her voice light and managed a small smile. ‘I suppose that might explain why you never replied.’
    â€˜Francesca, I couldn’t reply to letters I never received, but I did write to you.’
    Francesca lost her breath. ‘You did?’
    â€˜Don’t tell me—’ his voice was flat ‘—you never got them.’
    She shook her head.
    â€˜They couldn’t have been lost,’ he said. ‘Not all of them.’
    She frowned. ‘How many did you write?’
    â€˜Four, I think. Yes, four.’ He paused. ‘I would have written more, except your lack of response made me think I was wasting my time.’
    â€˜Tristan, what could have happened?’
    He searched her face. ‘Let me get this straight. You wrote to me. I wrote to you. We both wrote several times and none of our letters was delivered.’ Blue eyes bored into her. ‘You swear you wrote?’
    â€˜Many times.’
    Tristan swore. ‘What the hell has been going on? In the past two years I received several reports from Sir Ernis. Not a word from you.’
    Francesca twisted the reins round her forefinger. ‘I can’t understand it.’
    â€˜Nor can I. You sent all your letters to Château des Iles?’
    â€˜Yes, Ned took them. He told me he delivered them safely.’
    â€˜Ned is a good lad, I can’t imagine what has gone wrong.’ Tristan stared thoughtfully at the road ahead. ‘Francesca, Roparz is my steward at des Iles and he told me— Well, never mind. That is in the past. Francesca, I swear not one of your letters reached me.’
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