April Munday (30 page)

“Rosamunde!” His voice was low, but urgent. And there was something else in it. Relief? Had she somehow made him happy? She felt better and thought she smiled, but she could not feel her face and was not sure that it responded to her instruction. If Richard was happy, all must be well. She had been right, though; he was near. His voice was soft, but happy and it was like a healing balm to her. He was so close she could touch him if she reached out, but she could not move her arm, however much she tried. And she did want to touch him. She groaned at the effort. It hurt so much, but she tried again; she must touch him.

“Do not try to move, my love. You have been very ill.”

So that was it. That was why she hurt so much and why she could not move. She had been right about the trouble. But Richard was with her and all would be well. She felt him squeeze her hand. Had he been holding it? She could not remember him taking it. Perhaps he had been holding it while she slept. She thought there might be some reason why he should not be holding her hand, but she must be wrong, because nothing could be more natural than that he should do so. Secure in the knowledge that he was beside her she fell asleep again.

Rosamunde woke suddenly. “Richard?”  He had left her; she knew he had. Why had he left her alone in the dark? As soon as she opened her eyes she closed them again, then narrowed them to slits so that the light would not hurt so much.

“I am here, Rosamunde. Margaret is just coming to sit with you now.” She took a deep breath and stretched out her empty hand, waiting for him to take it. She was surprised that it obeyed her command. For some reason she had half thought it would not. Then she remembered – she was ill. That was why Richard had been holding her hand before. But he was not holding it now. That was why it was empty – he was not holding it in his. She felt tears of loss spring into her closed eyes. She dare not blink or the light would surely blind her.

“Rosamunde, Margaret will sit with you.” There was a note of warning in his low voice. She could not see his face clearly. Had she been struck blind? Was that what her illness was? She did not know and did not really care. She wanted Richard; nothing else mattered. She finally blinked away the tears of frustration, which were soon joined by tears of pain as the light stabbed into her head. Even that was not important. Only Richard was important.  Why would he not take her hand? It was his to take.

“Take her hand, Sir Richard, no one will know it from me.” Margaret’s voice seemed to come from a great distance. Perhaps she ought to get out of bed to find her, but first she must find out why Richard had deserted her when she needed him so much.

As Richard took her hand again, Rosamunde fell once more into a deep sleep.

“…will be here in two days at the most.” Guy’s voice broke into her dream and Rosamunde awoke. Her room was lit by a single lantern and Guy and Margaret were talking quietly by the entrance. She could not immediately see Richard, but gradually realised that her arm was hanging out of her bed and her fingers were entwined in someone’s hair. It must be Richard’s. She twisted slightly and eventually saw that he was asleep on the ground next to her bed. She stroked his hair, amazed that her fingers obeyed her. She had been ill, but now she was better. She must be better, because Richard was asleep. He would not sleep while she needed him.

“Who comes?” she asked, but barely recognised the unsteady voice as her own.

“Your father. I have sent a messenger for him. How do you feel?” Guy spoke quietly, showing no surprise that she had joined in their conversation.

“How should I feel?”

“Dead,” stated Richard as he stood up from the floor, smoothing down his ruffled hair. He bowed over her hand and raised it to his lips before placing it back under her covers. “You ate poisonous mushrooms.” He smiled down at her. His now familiar bare face was creased with worry and, it must surely be the lack of light in the tent, but he looked older and more worn.

“Then I feel very well, all things considered. Thank you Margaret.” She focused on Margaret with difficulty, but could not see the expression on her face.

“It was none of my doing. Richard recognised the mushrooms and knew the cure. He collected the plants and made the potions.”

“Then I thank you, my lord.” It was a relief to turn back to him. Her eyes hurt, but she knew that it was almost dark in her pavilion.

“I failed you Rosamunde. I should have inspected your food.”

“Surely it was a mistake.” It was hard to concentrate, but she knew that she must help Richard to see that whatever it was that had happened had not been his fault.

“Yes it was.”

“Then why would you have inspected the food?”

Richard hesitated. “I am your bodyguard. I should have been looking out for you all the time, not just when people could attack you with knives and swords.”

“It was not your fault. I do not blame you.” Of this alone she was certain, for it seemed that Richard blamed himself. Did Guy and Margaret also blame him she wondered. Was that why they stood so far away?

“I blame myself.”

Recognising that she could say nothing to placate him, Rosamunde sank back against her pillows. Even this short conversation was exhausting her. She must have been very ill.

“Could I have something to drink, please?”

Instantly Richard’s arm was around her shoulders, holding her up while he held a cup to her lips. When she had finished, he lowered her gently onto the bed. She shivered at the loss of his touch, but at least she could talk again.

“How is the escort?” She was thinking more clearly now. She knew that she was going somewhere, so she must have an escort.

“All are well. Concerned about you, but there is nothing untoward happening.”

Rosamunde gave up. She could not see Guy’s face clearly and she seemed to have lost the skill of reading his voice. She could not tell whether he lied or not. She had not been able to change Richard’s mind. It would be better to sleep.

“I think I shall sleep again…” she murmured as her eyes closed and her breathing grew deeper.

Chapter Fifteen

Eventually Rosamunde awoke and was able to stay awake. She sat up in her bed and listened to Guy’s council. He had everything in order and there were no decisions for her to make, but it pleased both of them to keep up the pretence that she was still in charge of the camp. She was even able to eat the simplest of foods that could be prepared for her and to drink small beer and wine. She tasted little of it and her stomach protested, but she grew stronger each day.

Guy was explaining that the duke was expected that afternoon or the following morning. Another messenger had been despatched to give the camp notice of his arrival. The duke was making a speedy journey. Guy thought that he must be travelling in a very small party, probably riding all the daylight hours and stopping only when it became too dark to continue. Neither of them mentioned it, but they both knew that the duke’s love for his daughter would ensure that he covered as much distance as possible each day.

It was a sign of Rosamunde’s improved health that she could tell that there was something that Guy was keeping from her. She knew there was nothing to be gained by questioning him. If it was something the duke had entrusted to him, he would never give it up and if it was of a more personal nature, she knew he would tell her when he considered the time was right.

Now that she was recovered, Richard no longer sat close to her or touched her, but stood guard by the entrance to her bedchamber. Since they were no longer on the move, he seemed content to share his duties with Guy and John, a young archer he considered to have shown promise during the siege. She and Richard had spoken little since she had begun to recover and he seemed distracted to her. It would be impossible for them to return to their former easiness once her father arrived, but she had hoped that they could make good use of this time. But Richard seemed determined to avoid conversation with her. He answered any question she asked briefly and volunteered nothing on his own account. She missed his touch. It was no longer necessary for someone to hold her while she ate or drank, but she had not rushed to be able to feed herself. It had been comforting to be held by Richard, whatever the reason. She missed their conversations. He had begun to be more open towards her and now she knew she would never have the chance to be that close to him again.

There was a noise outside and Richard lowered himself to one knee and bowed his head. Guy remained standing, but also bowed. “My lord.”

The duke ignored them both and strode to Rosamunde’s bed.

“So, my dear Rosamunde, I see that Guy’s messenger did not lie. You live.” She saw the relief on his face, but thought that he had aged since she had last seen him. It seemed that fear for his daughter had cost him more than a year fighting the French.

“I live and do very well, father.” She tried to smile, but her tears prevented her.

The duke hugged and kissed his daughter, then sat beside her bed, holding her hand in his. With the other he wiped away her tears. “I hardly dared hope when I heard what had happened.”

“It is thanks to Sir Richard that I still breathe.” Surely now her father must give Richard his freedom. This might be the last thing she could do for him before her marriage.

The duke turned towards his prisoner, who still knelt. “And what do you have to say for yourself, Master Frenchman?”

Still on his knee, Richard pulled his knife from its sheath. Rosamunde gasped and Guy took a step towards the man he now considered his friend. Richard placed the point of the knife against his own breast and stared up at the duke.

“My life is forfeit. I failed to protect Lady Rosamunde.”

“The fellow wants me to kill him,” said the duke, amused, looking from his prisoner to his daughter.

“You should reward him,” said Rosamunde quickly. Her heart was beating fast. She alone realised that Richard was serious. He expected the duke to punish him.

“Do you hear that, you young fool? My daughter says I am to reward you and in this I am inclined to take her advice. I believe you have paid your ransom and I will release you. You may go back to France.”

Richard looked confused, then his face cleared. “No, my lord. I beg you, please make me my lady’s servant, so that I may go with her wherever she goes.”

Now it was the duke’s turn to look confused.

“But I offer you freedom and you beg for servitude?”

“Not so, my lord. You offer to cast me out and I beg to be permitted to stay with my lady. I do not mean to cause trouble,” he added hastily, as he saw the duke’s face darken with anger. “I know that my lady goes to be married. I wish only to serve her as she chooses.”

“That will not be possible,” said the duke shortly. “It may be that I will have to accept your first offer. Please take him to my pavilion, Guy. I shall be with you shortly.”

Guy grimaced. “Taking you prisoner is becoming a habit,” he muttered, as he indicated that Richard should walk before him, even as Richard tried to give up his knife and sword to him. “Keep them. I would only cut myself on them.”

When they were alone, the duke smiled at his daughter, but Rosamunde could only think that her father was about to kill the man she loved.

The duke patted her hand. “Do not worry. I shall not kill him, but I don’t know what to do with him. It would solve much if he could marry you.”

Rosamunde was shocked, she had not realised that her father knew that she still loved Richard, but she shook her head and tried to hide the tears that had come into her eyes. “I know I cannot, I have given my word to marry Sir Ralf.”

“That fool!” The duke jumped to his feet impatiently and started to pace around the small space that was Rosamunde’s bedroom. “I knew as soon as I saw him that we had both made a mistake. You could never respect a man like him and he would not respect you. He greeted me with his mistress by his side. He couldn’t even be bothered to pretend to have good manners. He thought it was enough that he is the third son of a duke and wealthy, but it is not, not for you. I had already stopped the negotiations and was ready to return when Guy’s messenger arrived. I would rather have you in the convent that married to a man like that.”

He paused to look at the spot where Richard had offered his life. He sat beside her again and looked at her intently.

“From what I hear, marriage to the Frenchman would be like being in a convent. I assume he has found his way back into your good graces.”

“You would give your permission for me to marry Richard?” Rosamunde was hesitant. She did not understand why her father spoke of convents, but knew that she wanted the convent if she could not have Richard. Having escaped from Ralf and knowing that Richard loved her, she doubted she could marry someone else, even out of love and obedience to her father.

“No, I’m not giving you permission to marry him. Whatever he told you, it would be a sin.” The duke was angry and exasperated.

Now Rosamunde understood. Someone had told the duke about Richard’s divorce.

“Please go and talk to him,” she said. “If that is the only thing that would prevent you giving your permission.”

“You know the man’s secret.” Rosamunde thought her father blushed.

“I know the truth and why he allowed the lie to be told.”

“Rosamunde,” the duke was stern. “I would just as soon kill him as not.” He waved aside her protests. “He has shown you as little respect as Ralf. I do not ask you what he did, but you are constant and he must have done something to turn your love to hate overnight.”

Rosamunde could not deny it, for it was true, although the duke could not know any of the details.

“Father, he has saved my life and my virtue.” The duke bit his lip, as if he wanted to say more. The duke stood up and paced around the small space. Finally, he came to a decision, apparently a painful one. He sat beside her and took her hand again. The expression on his face was so full of love that she felt tears prick her eyes again. “Rosamunde, the time for plain speaking has come. You say he saved your virtue, but is it not the case that he took it and that is why you agreed to marry Ralf?”