Lord of My Heart (32 page)

“How did she find her way here?” Hereward asked him.

“I don’t know. I saw her heading north on the old road and followed. She asked directions to Gormanby twice and found the track. I took her in charge. She says the Bastard has word of our being here.”

Madeleine cursed herself for giving that information.

Hereward raised a brow. “A bit slow in telling me, aren’t you?”

“Took a while to get my senses back,” said Gyrth wryly.

Hereward turned back to Madeleine. “So, William is coming,” he said thoughtfully. “Why do you say that?”

Madeleine refused to answer.

“What do you think, Gyrth?” mused Hereward. “Pull her fingernails out? Apply a hot iron to her feet? Or is she tender enough to crumble under a hard spanking?”

Madeleine closed her eyes and prayed for the strength not to be a greater traitor than she already was.

“Ah,” said Hereward. “And here’s the man for the job.”

Madeleine told herself she could surely endure a spanking, even a vicious one. But a hot iron? She’d seen brave men scream under a cauterizing iron.
Sweet Mary Mother, help me in my hour of need!

“By all that’s holy, what are you doing here?”

Madeleine’s eyes flew open to see an astonished, angry husband. She leaped to her feet and flung herself into his arms.

She heard him say, “What have you done to her?” and was amazed anyone dared take that tone with Hereward.

“Teased her, that’s all. But it’s not a teasing matter. She says William has word of our presence and is planning an attack, but she won’t give any details.”

Madeleine found herself pushed away and down onto the cloak, where Aimery settled in front of her. “The whole story,” he said curtly.

Madeleine stiffened, remembering her grievances against him
and
the fact that his presence here now proved him to be a traitor. “There’s no need for torture,” she snapped. “I came to rescue you, though I don’t know why when I think of the way—”

His hand closed tightly on her arm. “Stop that and tell your story.”

She took a deep, steadying breath. He was right. Time enough for recriminations later. “Odo passed through Baddersley,” she said. “He’d heard rumor of Hereward being here and sent word to the king.”

Aimery looked at Hereward. “Odo de Pouissey. There’d be no reason for him to lie.”

Hereward nodded. “There’s a traitor in Gormanby needs ferreting out, then.” He made a sign and two men slipped off to the task. Madeleine shivered. “And we’d best be away. When I face William, it will be on my own terms.”

“You’re not joining Edwin and Gospatric?” Aimery asked.

“Their rising is already dead. I wait for the right time, when all England will come together.”

Aimery shook his head. “That will never be. England lost its chance in the first days. Then you could have flung us back, but not now.”

“And would have done, had I been here,” said Hereward with bitter certainty. “It was a cursed
wyrd
that took me to Byzantium that year.”

“It was
wyrd
all the same,” said Aimery. “Fate cannot be changed. You drummed that into my head. I am trying to follow that path. Are you?”

Hereward looked coldly at his nephew. “I know the future. I know what it will be. I saw Harold die but not when. I saw William king, but not for how long. I see a future where English, not Norman French, is the language of this land again, for high and low. That day will come, and I will bring it here.”

Aimery nodded. “If you have seen it, it will be so. but it will come about in its own time, not because you force it.”

Hereward shook his proud head. “We will prevail.”

“How?” demanded Aimery. “With the likes of Edwin and Gospatric? Edwin, who just wants pretty clothes and a royal bride, and Gospatric, who’s obsessed with keeping Northumbria from Waltheof. I swear he’s only in this uprising out of fury that Waltheof got Judith of Huntingdon. These men will bring back English rule?”

Hereward looked beyond his nephew, beyond the woods, almost, it seemed, beyond the edges of the world. At the expression in his eyes a shiver ran down Madeleine’s spine. “William’s line will not last in England even as far as his sons’ sons,” he said. Then he looked back, focused on them once more. “The King of Denmark will aid us.”

“Danish rule instead of Norman?” said Aimery with exasperation, but he did not scoff at the prophesy. Madeleine herself was badly shaken by it. William had three healthy sons and a fourth, possibly, on the way. There would be grandsons in time, so perhaps the Norman hold on the English throne would fail.

“Cnut was Danish,” said Hereward. “He came and lived within English laws, unlike the Norman who brings his own ways. Tell your royal godfather that Hereward will bow the knee when William the Bastard accepts English laws and throws out these French brigands he had brought over to steal our land.”

“Those French brigands won England for him and must be paid.” Aimery stood and brushed off his clothes. “Did you bring me here with a lie or do you need me?”

Hereward rose to join him. They were of a height, and though Hereward was heavier, the resemblance was astonishing. It was clear they also had the same stubborn will.

“No lie,” said Hereward. “Will you help?”

“Of course.” Aimery looked at Madeleine and drew his uncle off a ways before continuing the conversation. Angrily, she leaped to her feet to follow, but her husband glared back at her. “If you value your skin, sit down and keep your eyes and ears to yourself.”

She obeyed, happy to let her weakened legs collapse. Oh, Sweet Mary, it was true. For all that he didn’t appear to wholeheartedly support his uncle’s belief, Aimery was willing to help him. It must be the ring-bond. She could understand. Had she not come here to commit treason out of love and the loyalty of the marriage bond? But the consequences, the consequences if his part ever was discovered.

Gyrth sat next to her like a guard. He had taken out his vicious knife and was sharpening it lovingly on a whetstone. She looked around and saw many of the men eyeing her as if she was a juicy morsel for the pot. But as her gaze met theirs they looked away.

She was safe, she supposed, under Hereward’s protection, and Aimery’s. Of course, that left the question of how safe she was from Aimery, though all she’d done was save his miserable skin. She knew enough about men, however, to know they hated to be in the wrong.

The conference ended, and Aimery rejoined her. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

She scrambled to her feet. “And what about you?”

“That is none of your business.” He stalked off toward their horses, and she had to follow or be abandoned. She was stopped by Hereward.

“I am delighted to have been given a chance to meet you,” he said in perfect Norman French. “I hope we can meet again in happier days.”

“Under English rule?” she queried. “I doubt I would be welcome.”

“Aimery’s wife will always be welcome, though I’m afraid I will have to relieve you of Baddersley.”

Madeleine answered instinctively. “Over my dead body!”

He grinned. “If necessary. But then, perhaps I would allow you and Aimery to continue to care for the place for me.” He laughed deeply. “How your eyes flash! I rejoice in you, my dear. I think perhaps you are worthy of my nephew.” He kissed her lightly on both cheeks. “May your
wyrd
be Balder’s way.”

With that he left her, and she hurried to where Aimery was waiting. He looked preoccupied and exasperated, although not particularly with her. He helped her into her saddle. “Don’t let Hereward charm you,” he said bluntly.

She sniffed. “How could I? He’s just an older version of you.”

He glared at her and swung into his own saddle. They rode out of a camp which was already breaking up, the men ready to disappear back into the Fens. They followed the paths she had traveled with Gyrth. Did he know that the man had haltered her? Did he care? Would
he
have struck Gyrth down for the insult?

“Where are your men?” she asked him.

“Left north of here. That’s why it took so long for me to get here. I didn’t have the luxury of riding straight here, announcing my destination all along the north road.”

“Don’t snap at me. I came to save your wretched life!”

“The king’s men could thresh around in this forest for months without finding Hereward if he didn’t want to be found. You came after me because you wanted to come and I wouldn’t let you.”

She hissed through her teeth. “And what a fancy way you found to stop me.”

“Believe me. Next time I’ll just lock you up.”

“If your mission here was innocent, there was no reason not to bring me with you!”

He reined in his horse and faced her. “Bring you into a nest of outlaws? And you a staunch Norman . . .”

“Are you saying you’re
not
a staunch Norman?”

His hand flashed out and snared the front of her tunic. Madeleine squeaked as she found herself inches from him. “You have a mischievous tongue, my lady.”

“Let go of me,” she said. “You have no right to bully me this way.”

“I have every right in the world, Lady, do you force me to it.” He let her go and urged his horse forward again. “We can reach Baddersley before dark if you are willing to ride hard. What excuse did you make to get out of there?”

Madeleine was bone-achingly weary after her day’s adventures, but she made no complaint. “I said I was going to gather roots.”

“Then claim to have been lost.”

“What of your men? Shouldn’t we collect them?”

“They’ll wait. The fewer people who know you or I have been in this locality, the better. That’s why we’re going to slip through the forest for a while.”

They rode in silence along deer tracks and footpaths, heading south, but often in winding ways. Then they rejoined the road and galloped. There was little traffic now that the sun was sinking, and they made good speed. Madeleine’s body was one big, weary ache, her mind a fog of exhaustion, but she clung on, too proud to beg for a rest, and hoped her horse could follow him home.

At last they swung off onto the narrower road to Baddersley. Madeleine survived on the thought that their journey was nearly over.

Aimery drew up just out of sight of the castle. “You should be safe from here.”

“You’re not coming with me?” she exclaimed. He was going back, she knew it.

“I have matters to attend to which your foolishness has delayed.”

“My
foolishness!”
If she hadn’t been so weary, Madeleine would have hit him. “I promise you, Aimery de Gaillard, this is the last time I try to help you.”

“I’d welcome that if I had any faith in your promises.” He turned his horse sharply.

Madeleine shouted, “Well, have faith in this. You won’t cozen me with your false lovemaking again. I know all your tricks now!”

“Do you think so?” She saw his white teeth flash in the gloom, but didn’t know if it was a grin or a snarl. “Our next meeting should be interesting then, wife.”

He galloped off into the dusk.

Hereward had asked, “Will you help?” And Aimery had answered, “Of course,” without a trace of hesitation.

Madeleine spent sleepless nights and fretful days waiting for news of his capture, dreading his return to take up her challenge, longing to see him again.

When, three days after her mad adventure, Madeleine received her expected summons to join the queen, she was relieved. As she packed her chests with her finery and her medicinal supplies, she told herself that Aimery de Gaillard would be justly served. When he made his laggardly way home to his wife—with or without his
secrets
—and found her gone.

She had, after all, made a vow. A vow that she would not lie with him until she was sure he was loyal. And then she had told him that she wouldn’t be tricked by his lovemaking skills. Both promises would be much easier to keep with half of England between them.

Matilda had sent an escort for her. Madeleine had only to consult with Geoffrey, Hugh, and the good sisters to be sure the work at the manor would continue properly, then organize enough packhorses for all her baggage before she and Dorothy could enjoy a tranquil and easy day’s journey to Hertford. There they would find the queen, who was resting before the journey north to join the king.

Six days after her parting from Aimery, Madeleine entered Hertford. The queen’s train was lodged throughout the town, with the queen living in the sheriff’s substantial house. Matilda greeted her warmly. “A married lady now, and wife to Aimery de Gaillard, of whom I have always been fond. I’m sure he is treating you well. He always had a way with the ladies.”

Madeleine gritted her teeth behind her smile and politely agreed. “And you, Your Majesty. How are you?”

“As well as can be expected for a woman in my condition,” the queen said wryly. “I carry babes easily, but at this stage it is easy for no woman.”

Madeleine chanced a protest about the projected journey. “I cannot think it wise for you to be traveling at this stage of your pregnancy, Your Majesty.”

But Matilda waved that away. “If I had let childbearing restrict my movements, I would have accomplished little. I go north by easy stages and will rest when I think it necessary. William wants the child to be born in York. It will be so.”

York, thought Madeleine, but she could see Matilda was as determined on this path as her husband. But York. Not only was it far to the north, but that part of the country was barely under control as yet. The queen, however, went briskly off to attend to other business and left Madeleine in the hands of her daughter and niece.

Madeleine was delighted to meet Judith and Agatha again, though the latter seemed sullen and subdued. There was nothing subdued about Judith, however, who was blooming.

“So,” the beauty said, “you have married Aimery de Gaillard. Lucky woman. He fired my blood, I must confess. I would envy you if I had not done as well or better.”

“Your betrothed pleases you?”

Judith’s sigh was eloquent affirmation. “I only wish we were married.” She drew Madeleine a little way from Agatha. “It will be such a relief to have you here,” she whispered. “Poor Agatha is so upset because the king won’t settle her betrothal. And now that the Earl of Mercia has fled to raise rebellion, she’s terrified he’s going to be executed. I wouldn’t have thought Edwin had it in him to pose that much danger to my uncle, but people can be surprising. Look at Agatha. She was even talking at one point of running off to join the earl and live with him out of wedlock!”

“That would stir the country.” Madeleine glanced in surprise at the girl, who had always been so quiet and shy. “And could well cost Edwin dearly if the king did not let them wed as a result.”

“Cost him his balls, you mean,” said Judith bluntly, causing Madeleine’s face to burn. “Jesu,” added Judith. “Over a month wed, and she can still blush. I was hoping you could extend my education, but you still seem a little nun to me.”

Madeleine thought of a lovemaking session by a cornfield and wished blushing were under human control. “I should think your education will be extended soon enough,” Madeleine countered. “When is the wedding to be?”

Judith sighed. “Later. After my new cousin is born. I hope at least by Christmas.” She lowered her voice. “I burn for him, Mad. Do you know what I mean?”

Madeleine nodded. She certainly did. And now, even if they should happen to meet, she had a sacred vow between her and Aimery which was likely to keep them apart forever. She couldn’t exactly regret her vow, for it was right. She must be firm against treason, and he was so easily able to use her lust against her.

But she burned.

“Perhaps Agatha feels the same,” she suggested to Judith. “You should sympathize.”

Judith pulled a face. “I just find her and Edwin such unlikely tragic lovers, and it’s not as if she actually carried out her plan. An attack of the gripe dampened her ardor. She’s only just emerged from her room after it . . .” She broke off and grimaced. “What a cat I am. She really was ill, for there was no sign of her for nearly a week, just Aunt Matilda constantly dashing into the sickroom quite haggard with concern, and these moaning noises. I did offer to assist, but they feared it was catching. But now that she’s recovered, she has abandoned her plan. If they tried to separate me from Waltheof, I would go to him no matter how weak I was.”

“Do you both go north, then?” Madeleine asked, intrigued by this Waltheof, for she had thought Judith too aware of her own charms to be so smitten by a mere male.

“No. That’s Waltheof’s hereditary land, though he doesn’t have the title. I don’t think the king trusts him there, for he’s much loved. We’re to go to Winchester under heavy chaperonage and guard. Agatha, too.” She sighed. “Even though I sympathize with her, you can see she is hardly the person to want to chatter of love and kisses these days. I welcome the time we have together, you and I.”

Madeleine thought she would disappoint in that regard, but she dutifully listened to Judith’s ecstatic description of Waltheof—his amazing strength, his wit, his learning, his power to stir the blood.

She formed a picture of a gigantic saint and was bemused when she was finally introduced to the man. He was only a little heavier built than Aimery, and yet his strength was legendary. If he was learned, he did not demonstrate it before her. But his ability to stir the blood, that she could appreciate.

He was handsome and remarkably graceful in his movements, but there was something in his deep-set amber eyes which caused even her nerves to flutter. Judith, she saw, was close to swooning. It was to be hoped the effect diminished when this passion was allowed to run its course, or Judith was unlikely to be any use to anyone for the rest of her born days.

Waltheof sat beside his betrothed and took her hand as if that were the most natural thing for a man to do. Aimery had never done such a thing. “I’m delighted to meet the Baddersley heiress at last,” he said to Madeleine in excellent French.

Perhaps it was the way he sat so close to Judith, the way he held her hand, the way he smiled at her that turned Madeleine sour. “And I’m delighted to meet the man who’s supposed to be descended from a bear,” she taunted.

He took no offense but smiled enigmatically. “I grow fur at the full moon, Lady Madeleine.” He raised his betrothed’s hand and kissed the tip of one finger, holding Judith with his golden eyes. “I’m sure my wife will find it amusing. She can comb it.” Madeleine could almost see Judith melt. “But remember,” he added lightly, turning back to Madeleine, “my grandmother was not a bear, but a faery-bear. It makes a difference.”

Madeleine cast a startled glance at Judith, who seemed to be swallowing this tale whole, in as much as she had a sane thought left in her lustful head. Madeleine had expected this sophisticated man to treat his mythical ancestry as fanciful nonsense, but that wasn’t so. Did he believe in faeries?

“You should sympathize, Lady Madeleine,” he said. “You, too, were a creature of legend not so long ago. Speculation about your fate was our principal entertainment.”

“Did you win or lose?” asked Madeleine tartly.

He laughed. “I don’t gamble. I judge Aimery de Gaillard to have won, however.”

It was a pretty compliment, and Madeleine bit back a sour response. She was alarmed by how easy it was to be acerbic in the face of Waltheof and Judith’s unity. She began to sympathize with Agatha, and wondered if the girl’s plan to flee hadn’t been inspired as much by a desire to get away from these two as a desire to join Edwin of Mercia. Madeleine certainly felt the need to escape. Even a week of the gripe appeared attractive. She made her excuses and left.

One thing she had noted was that Waltheof carried a skin mark on his right hand, as Aimery said they all did. She thought it was a bear. It reminded her of the ever-present danger of someone recognizing the design and linking it with Golden Hart. At least when Aimery was with Hereward that danger was lessened.

She realized she’d left the lovers together and wondered if she was supposed to play chaperone. She decided Judith and Waltheof were either controlling themselves or nothing on earth would restrain them. Or him, rather. Madeleine thought that if anyone was in control, it was Waltheof.

Was his apparent love genuine, she wondered as she went in search of the queen’s chamberlain to discover her quarters. As long as she had been with Waltheof and Judith, she had been certain the feeling between them was real, and on Judith’s side she was sure that was so. But on his?

She had reason to know men could play a pretty part when it suited them, and it must suit an Englishman like Waltheof to be so closely linked with the Norman royal family. Perhaps she should extend Judith’s education and explain to her just how deceitful men could be, and how easy a skillful man found it to cozen a woman.

With this in mind she told herself she was fortunate to be free of Aimery. She would be with the queen’s train for at least three months. Her lust for her husband should have burned out by the time they met again.

She found Gilbert, the chamberlain, and asked where her baggage should be put, expecting it to be in the queen’s solar or perhaps in an anteroom with the other attendants. “You have a chamber, Lady Madeleine.” He summoned an attendant to guide her.

Madeleine was surprised and gratified by the honor. A private room, no matter how small, in such a crowded place was a mark of distinction. She followed the servant up steep wooden stairs to the second floor. They passed through two rooms with curtained beds—one possibly occupied, as the curtains were drawn. As well as the beds, the rooms were full of chests, pieces of armor and clothing, and straw mattresses. Hertford was definitely crowded. She must have misunderstood Gilbert. She was doubtless being taken to share a room with half a dozen other women.

Then the man flung open the door to a corner room which would offer much valued privacy, as it was at the end of the house. The clutter was markedly less, and there were only two chests and a few other items in the room.

Masculine items.

A gold armband left carelessly on top of a small jewel chest caught the sun and her eye. She knew that snarling dragon with its emerald eyes. She knew that chest.

Madeleine turned to the man. “Lord Aimery . . . ?”

“Is out, Lady. But he will return for the evening meal. I will send your baggage and people here to you.”

Madeleine looked around numbly.

But he was with Hereward, doing that “service” he had promised. How could he be here? Straight from that encounter with Waltheof, she began to think of faery creatures who could be in two places at the same time. Then more unpleasant thoughts pushed out the whimsical. Could his service for Hereward be the basest form of treachery—spying?

She walked about the room among his familiar possessions and smelled his familiar aroma, which she hadn’t been aware, till then, of missing. Her foolish body hummed with delight when she touched his red tunic, as her mind wondered how she would keep her vow and turn him from treachery.

She couldn’t stop fingering things. His bone comb with blond hairs still in it. A wool cloak tossed carelessly on a chair. The heavy gold armband lying on top of his jewel chest. She tutted at such carelessness. The chest, as she had supposed, was locked, and so she picked up the precious item.

What to do with it until her own chest was brought up? She tried putting it on her arm, but it was far too large. After a moment, with a mischievous smile, she stretched it a little more and clasped it just above her knee. She felt it there as if it were his hand. He’d never placed a loving hand on her thigh. When she came to think of it, Aimery de Gaillard had never touched her with gentleness except to serve his own devious plans.