Marcus conceded this was not the time to be practical, but he would not give David an easy victory. He lifted the headdress instead. Its woven pattern had an exotic look. He pictured it on the crown of a black-haired beauty.

The face in his imagination did not belong to Genith.

He asked the price and David named one far too low. He gave his friend a sharp look, and David increased it.

“That was my cost, I swear. It is no insult if I do not skin you alive, Mark. I merely choose not to take a profit from a friend on his wedding day. We merchants have very few scruples, but permit me the ones I can claim.”

Joan was admiring the other items. “What are these?” she asked, reaching for the parchments.

“Designs that I brought to show you and Rhys. A lady sold them to me this morning.”

Joan unfolded them. Marcus examined the drawings spread on the table. One showed a hunt scene, and another a May pageant. The third had no people, just birds and animals in a rich, verdant field.

“They are very good,” Rhys said. He ran his thumb over a corner. “Colored with inks, like a manuscript. The parchment has been scraped, though, and reused after writing was removed.”

“They are tapestry designs. I paid much more than I had to, but she was such a Welsh beauty that I could not bargain with any heart.”

Marcus’s attention sharpened to a sword’s edge. “A Welsh beauty?”

“Raven haired, with an interesting face. Blind to my charm, I am sorry to say. I tried to lure her into returning by offering to buy more, but she said she would not be in London long enough.”

Marcus touched one of the parchments. Colored inks, such as used in manuscripts. The women in convents often copied manuscripts. David’s shop was on the lane where he had found Nesta this morning.

“How much did you give her?”

“Too much.”

“How much?”

David raised an eyebrow at the sharp tone. “One pound.”

Marcus muttered a curse. Nesta and Genith could journey to Scotland or Wales easily on that.

He stood abruptly. “I must leave now. I will see all of you tomorrow at Westminster.”

Joan touched his arm. “What is it?”

“Nothing. I merely remember something that I must do this night.”

He turned away from the curious looks the others gave him and strode toward the garden portal. The suspicion nagging him was ridiculous. Coin in hand or not, Nesta and Genith could not leave. The King’s guards stood at the gate of that house.

Still, he felt compelled to go check. David had said that Nesta had indicated she would leave London soon.

It would be just like that Welsh witch to find a way to do so.

The gate was closed but not barred. Worse, no guards stood behind it.