Cast Love Aside (33 page)

* * * * *

Magnus led his companions out of Hythe in
early morning and they reached Richton Castle shortly after midday.
Sir John met them in the bailey and he did not look pleased to see
them.

“I was wondering when you'd come back,” he
said to Magnus. “My orders are to conduct all of you to Royce the
moment you dare to show yourselves.”

“I’m surprised to hear that Royce has
returned so quickly,” Magnus responded. He broke off the
conversation to stare at the unusual activity in the bailey. “Did
all these extra knights come from Normandy with Royce? Are they
here on our account?” he asked, dismounting as he spoke.

“Lord Royce will answer your questions,” Sir
John replied. “Let me warn you, he is not in a happy mood.” With
that, the knight turned on his heel and headed for the tower keep.
Magnus hurried to keep up with him.

“That fellow is almost as delightful a host
as Count Erland,” Desmond muttered, limping along beside
Gilbert.

Lilianne didn’t answer. She was staying close
to William, certain he’d need some assistance to climb the steep
staircase to the keep, so she was pleased when Braedon fell into
step on William’s other side. Just as they reached the stairs,
Braedon slipped an arm over William’s shoulders in a gesture of
comradeship that could not possibly insult any man’s pride.
Lilianne took William’s arm and together she and Braedon supported
their friend until they entered the great hall.

The hall was remarkably crowded. Knights and
squires were everywhere and servants were bustling about, setting
the long tables for the midday meal. Lilianne stared at the
activity and wondered what was going on.

Sir John did not slow his rapid pace. He
continued straight to the solar steps, and the others followed him.
Just as they reached the solar, Alice flew into William's arms,
nearly knocking him down by the enthusiastic force of her
embrace.

“Be a little more gentle, if you please, my
lady,” said a low-pitched, masculine voice that was laced with
humor. “Can you not see the man is injured? Please be good enough
to help him to a seat.”

“I've been so worried about you!” Alice
exclaimed, keeping one arm around William’s waist. “Here, lean on
me.”

He needed Alice’s support, for Braedon had
abruptly removed his arm from his friend’s shoulders. While
Lilianne and Alice guided William to a bench, Braedon moved forward
to kneel to the man who had spoken. Magnus and Desmond were already
on their knees before him.

“Sire,” Magnus said, his head bowed.

Unable to catch Magnus's eye, and with Alice
preoccupied by William, Lilianne looked to Royce for clarification
of the scene. He stood at the stranger's right shoulder and though
Lilianne could tell he was angry, he did not forget his manners. He
held out a hand to her, beckoning her to come forward.

“My lord,” Royce said, “will you allow me to
present Lady Lilianne de Sainte Inge? Lilianne, this is King
Henry.”

Lilianne dipped into the low curtsey she had
learned as a child. Her soiled, still-damp skirts were crumpled
about her, she knew her hair was in sore need of combing, and her
face was as dirty as any street urchin’s. Yet when Henry of England
took her hand and bid her rise, he made her feel like the most
elegant lady of his court.

King Henry I was a tall man, powerfully
built, and remarkably handsome despite the encroachment of time.
His thick, dark hair was liberally streaked with silver, his smile
was endearing, and the age lines about his eyes crinkled with good
humor.

The king of England took Lilianne's breath
away. She stood holding his hand and gaping at him like the
simplest country girl. Then Gilbert advanced to stand beside her
and she remembered her courtly training.

“Sire,” Lilianne said, “may I present to you
my brother, Lord Gilbert de Sainte Inge?”

Gilbert made an impeccable bow though, being
a subject of the French king, he did not kneel.

“Gilbert?” Alice cried in surprise from the
bench where she was sitting with William. “You are alive? Do you
know how much Lilianne has grieved over you?”

“I have some idea,” Gilbert said, his gaze
still on the king.

“Lord Gilbert,” Royce said, smiling at the
boy, “I am glad to see you in good health after thinking you dead.
Welcome to Richton Castle.” The look in Royce's eyes when he
regarded Gilbert's companions was not so warm.

“The rest of you have a good deal of
explaining to do,” Royce told them sternly.

“Indeed you have,” King Henry said, though he
didn't appear to be nearly as angry as Royce. “I was so concerned
about the situation with King Louis and my missing spy that I
decided to leave Normandy and make a private visit to Richton, so I
could discuss it in person with my other agents. Despite Lady
Alice's vigorous defense of you, we were not pleased to learn you
had returned to France without authorization from either of
us.”

“Sire,” Braedon said, smiling boldly at his
king, “a wise man does not quarrel with success. And we all know
what a wise king you are.”

“And I know all too well what kind of wicked
daredevil you can be,” Henry told him. His mouth twitched, then
straightened as if he was trying hard not to smile. “Royce, I
suggest we postpone the midday meal for an hour, to allow these
poor, disheveled souls to bathe and change their clothes. Sir
Desmond's appearance is particularly unappetizing.”

“I know it, sire, and I wish it were
otherwise.” Desmond bowed his head in a remarkable display of
meekness.

“I had hoped,” Magnus said to the king, “that
Desmond's safe return to English soil would bring an end to your
immediate problem with King Louis. Your spy is free, while the
French king's spy remains in your hands, which gives you the
advantage over him. For the moment, at least.”

“Magnus, I do admire your gift for concise
speech,” King Henry said. “I confess that I am astonished by what
you have achieved. Now, I want time in which to consider all of the
ramifications.” The king raised his hand in dismissal.

“I expect to see all of you in the great hall
in one hour,” Royce declared, frowning at them. “When the feast to
welcome King Henry is over, we will speak privately. And we will
expect an honest accounting of your recent actions.”

* * * * *

Lilianne found a bathtub waiting in her
bedchamber and servants carrying in buckets of hot water. She
bathed and washed her salt-laden hair as quickly as she could, then
donned the clean gown that Royce had provided for her just a few
days ago. It seemed as if half a lifetime had passed since she had
first tried on the dress. She was still grappling with everything
that had happened during the interval.

Alice, who in the past would have stayed with
Lilianne to ply her with eager questions, was with William, having
declared rather forcefully that his wound required a fresh bandage.
Gilbert was with the men – where, Lilianne suspected, he would
prefer to be from now on.

She didn't mind being left alone, for she
needed time to think, and she wanted to find Magnus before they all
gathered again in the great hall. Saying her final farewell to him
wasn't going to be easy, so she wanted to do it in private. She
expected King Henry to whisk his men back to Normandy within the
next day or two, leaving her at Richton to help Alice care for
William. She knew full well that her stay at Richton was only a
temporary solution to her lack of a permanent home. While William
healed, Lilianne was going to have to decide what to do next. But
first, she'd seize any opportunity to put her arms around the
untitled, landless knight she loved with all her heart.

The solar was empty when she reached it. The
king's presence at Richton required a public meal in the great
hall, so that the men who guarded the castle for Henry – and
guarded the prisoners he sent there – could see their ruler at
close range and, perhaps, have a chance to speak with him.

Braedon and Gilbert were already in the hall.
Lilianne noticed them as she descended the stairs from the solar.
Gilbert was well-scrubbed, his hair was freshly trimmed, and he was
clad in a green tunic, most likely borrowed from one of the smaller
squires. Braedon, too, was washed, brushed, and shaved, wearing a
dark blue tunic that matched his eyes.

Magnus was absent.

“He's with Royce,” Braedon explained before
Lilianne could ask. “They’ll be along soon. Alice and William are
excused from the meal. The king decided William ought to rest, and
he commanded Alice to remain with him. Alice offered no objection
to the royal order,” Braedon added with a knowing smile.

King Henry did not keep them waiting. With
Royce a few steps behind him and Magnus and Desmond following, he
swept into the great hall, smiling and nodding to the men he knew,
stopping to speak a word here and there. He paused in front of
Lilianne and once again she sank into a deep curtsey.

“Come, my lady,” King Henry said, taking her
hand. “Sit beside me.”

“I would be honored, Sire.” She allowed him
to lead her to the high table, not daring to show how disappointed
she was at not sitting next to Magnus.

The feast lasted for several hours. From
where she was sitting, Lilianne couldn't see or speak to Magnus,
who seated was between Braedon and Desmond. She did hear the jokes
Braedon made about Desmond having a new pair of boots and about
Gilbert’s obvious enjoyment of the roast beef.

The conversation at the high table was
general, with no specific mention of the adventures of recent days.
That was a subject to be discussed later, in a more secluded spot.
While Lilianne responded politely to the king's remarks and agreed
with him that the food was delicious – though it tasted like ashes
to her – she wondered if Henry would decide to leave Richton that
very day and if Magnus would be gone before they were able to speak
again.

She ached to jump up from her seat and run to
Magnus, to throw her arms around him and beg him never to leave
her. Only her pride and years of training in noble deportment kept
her where she was.

When the long meal finally ended King Henry
led the way to the solar. There he took the chair that Royce
usually occupied and motioned for the rest of them to sit, too.
Royce continued to stand at his king's right hand, a position that
warned Lilianne he was going to share the duty of
interrogation.

“Sir Desmond,” King Henry said, “I will hear
from you first. What happened to you in Scotland? And how did you
reach France?”

“In truth, I do not know,” Desmond admitted.
Like his brother, he had bathed and visited the castle barber. With
his hair neatly trimmed, lice and beard removed, Desmond was
revealed as a slender, grey-eyed man with sandy hair, who bore
little resemblance to his twin. The multicolored bruises on his
face remained and the borrowed tunic he wore hung loosely on his
tall frame. To Lilianne's eyes, he looked feverish.

“Why don't you know how you were captured?”
Royce demanded. “Were you too drunk to remember?”

“Not unless my single cup of cider was spiced
with poppy syrup,” Desmond said. He paused to cough a few times
before continuing. “I was in a tavern, alone. I had gone there for
a meal and in hope of overhearing a bit of useful information.
Before my food arrived someone hit me on the back of the head. When
I woke up, I was aboard a small boat, on a rough sea. I made the
mistake of moaning, so someone hit me again. I believe my captors
didn’t want me to see their faces and recognize them.

“The next time I woke up I was in the dungeon
at Manoir Sainte Inge. Erland and Norbard were there, in the cell,
watching me. I knew them, of course. Norbard and I transacted
occasional business together when I was sent on missions to France,
and I had seen Erland from a distance. Most English agents know who
he is.”

“Did Erland say what he wanted with you?”
King Henry asked.

“No, but I assumed that Norbard would tell me
later. I knew he was working for Royce, so I hoped he'd help me
escape from the manor. He didn't.” Desmond shrugged, dismissing
Norbard's treachery. “I spent the winter in that damned cell. I
must say, I’ve had far better accommodations. Then again, I have
endured worse.”

“So you have no idea why you were taken to
France, or why you were being held there?” Royce asked.

“None at all. After the first day, I never
saw Erland again, and saw Norbard only twice. Both times he beat me
and threatened me with torture. Aside from those delightful visits,
my only entertainment was sending food to Gilbert. But that didn't
begin until spring. I could tell it was spring,” Desmond said,
“because I was no longer freezing all the time.” Another fit of
coughing brought his recitation to a halt.

“Dear heaven!” Lilianne exclaimed. “To think
you were held captive while I was at the manor, and I had no idea
of it.”

“Why should anyone tell you what was going
on?” Magnus asked her. “To Erland and Norbard, you were
irrelevant.”

“Magnus, I have read your written report
concerning your first visit to Manoir Sainte Inge, when you were
sent to abduct Erland, and brought his niece away as well,” King
Henry said. “Since you led the second expedition to the manor, in
direct violation of Royce's orders to remain here at Richton until
he could speak to me, I will now hear your version of the
story.”

“It was my fault,” Lilianne said in Magnus's
defense, foregoing good manners to interrupt the king's
questioning. “Erland had told us how he kept Gilbert in the tower
room at the manor. We believed Gilbert must be dead of starvation
without Erland to provide food for him. I decided to return to the
manor to bury my brother and I would not be dissuaded by Magnus's
arguments against the venture. Seeing how resolute I was, Magnus
refused to let me go alone. When Braedon and William learned about
our plan they chose to join us in order to provide extra protection
for me.”