Chapter 123 - Hundred And Twenty Three
The tavern Anne had chosen for their meeting was a slight improvement over the last one. It had private booths with high backs, offering a sliver of privacy from the prying eyes of the other patrons. It was still, however, a place no respectable noblewoman would ever be seen.
George sat opposite her, a half-empty mug of beer in his hand, his expression a mixture of worry and disapproval. "I told you to stop coming to places like this, Anne," he scolded her gently.
She poured herself a glass of deep red wine from the bottle she had already ordered, not even bothering to look at him. "I know," she said, her voice a bored monotone. "That is precisely why I sent for you to accompany me. Because I know that you will always protect me." She finally looked up, a small, feigned smile on her face.
The simple, manipulative words worked perfectly. George’s worried expression immediately softened, replaced by a look of happy, foolish devotion. He was glad that she was relying on him, that she needed him. He took a long gulp of his beer, feeling like a knight in shining armor.
Anne looked at him for a while, at his lovesick, eager-to-please face, and her own smile dropped the moment he looked away. " I might as well use you once more"she thought to herself, a cold, calculating look in her eyes. "Since you are so very eager to please me." As George looked back at her, her fake, sweet smile instantly reappeared.
"Have you heard anything new about Duke Eric’s dye company?" she asked, her tone light and casual, as if she were just making polite conversation.
"No, not that I’ve heard of," he replied.
"I heard a rumor," she continued, swirling the wine in her glass, "that his mother, the Duchess Lyra, will become a major financial factor for his company now that he is married." She looked at him keenly over the rim of her glass. "Have you heard anything at all about that?"
George shook his head. "Not at all, Anne. Nothing."
"But you go to the gambling den almost every day," she pressed, a hint of impatience in her voice. "I am sure there must be whispers about it among the merchants and the lesser nobles."