WolfeBlade: de Wolfe Pack Generations by Kathryn Veque (reading an ebook txt) 📕

They all started to look around, realizing that de Leia’s companion had simply vanished. For a woman who had been hovering over him all evening, her sudden absence was odd. And concerning. Andreas had a very uneasy feeling.

He had to find Gavriella.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Now, he knew.

That wasn’t exactly the way Gavriella had planned to tell Andreas, but her father had gone on a rampage and spoiled everything. Something he’d kept secret since it happened, he had willingly and recklessly poured out to a table of mostly strangers, Andreas included.

Now, they all knew.

Gavriella found herself praying for a hole in the ground to open up and swallow her.

If her luck held steady, however, no hole would be forthcoming. She would be forced to face her torment, her shame. She’d coming running out into the kitchen yard, blindly, tramping through the snow until she came to the shelter that provided cover for the additional bread ovens, which were warm from having been used this night.

Standing next to the bread overs, she stood in the shadows and wept.

Everything was ruined.

All of the hopes and dreams she’d had for a future with Andreas had just been summarily dashed by her drunkard buffoon of a father. Everyone knew what had happened now. It wasn’t as if Merek could take the words back and force them to forget.

She desperately wished such a thing was possible.

But it wasn’t.

Around her, the snow was falling gently now, having let up since the burst earlier in the evening. There was about a foot of snow on the ground, but the bailey of Falstone, and the yards, were lit by heavily fatted torches and lanterns, the warm glow of light pushing through the darkness.

But it was darkness that would never leave Gavriella.

She could feel it right down to her bones.

Hopelessness.

The tears wouldn’t stop falling. She’d never be able to face any of those men now and, most importantly, she’d never be able to face Andreas. How could she when he knew her deepest, darkest secrets? That kind, chivalrous knight who had helped her find her way from Gomorrah, the same kind and chivalrous knight who had spent the day with her watching entertainment in the most glorious day of her life.

The same man who had found her, against all odds, here at her home in Northumberland.

All of it… gone.

She’d told him once that she was meant for the veil in an attempt to tell him that she was unmarriageable property. Damaged goods. Now she was thinking that the church might be the only alternative for her. She refused to remain with her father any longer and she certainly couldn’t find a decent husband. She would go to Edenside where her son was and ask if she could remain, taking care of the children in exchange for a roof over her head.

In exchange for being with her son.

Perhaps it was the best option she had.

More tears fell.

“Gavriella?”

Andreas’ voice filled the air, soft yet strong, like velvet against steel. He’d startled her so that she gasped aloud, turning to see that he’d essentially boxed her in against the oven she was standing next to. When their eyes met, he smiled gently.

“I did not mean to startle you,” he said.

Gavriella opened her mouth to deny it, but she couldn’t quite manage it. She’d already lied to the man enough, or at the very least, withheld truths. There was no reason to protect herself any longer. She had no idea why he’d come to speak to her; perhaps to kindly tell her that he was no longer interested or to show her some kind of pity.

The mere thought made the bile rise in her throat.

“It is of little matter,” she said, brushing away tears that were falling faster than she could wipe them. “Now you know everything, Andreas. You know everything I did not tell you. I told you in London that people hide things, and now you know why – there was much for me to hide.”

He had a pained expression. “Gavriella, I…”

She held up a hand. “Please,” she said, her voice trembling. “Let me speak of this while I still have courage. Last year, on a lovely day in July, I was in the village of Deadwater. I had gone to seek the merchant who imports fine threads from London. As I was walking to the merchant, four armed men came charging down the avenue. They asked one of the merchants if he knew who I was and the man confirmed that I was Merek de Leia’s daughter. The knights proceeded to abduct me and take me to a livery on the edge of town where I was held down by three of them while the fourth man hit me so hard that I was knocked unconscious. When I awoke, he was on top of me, doing things that a man would do to his wife. I tried to fight him, to scream, but it was me against four big men. I never had a chance. When the man was finished, he rode off and left me there. It was Lukas who found me and brought me home. We determined that it was de Soulis because I saw a brand on one of the horses that Lukas and my father recognized. A child resulted from this attack and he was sent away after he was born and I was sent to London. That is when you met me. And now… now, you know. My life laid open. I am damaged goods, as my father said.”

Andreas was watching her with a heavy heart. She was pale and shaking, refusing to look at him, and he felt as bad as he possibly could.

“I already knew,” he said quietly.

Her head jerked up, her eyes wide. “You… you knew?”

“I did.”

She was looking at him in confusion and disbelief. “But… how? How did you know?”

“De Dere,” he said hoarsely. “He did not tell me to