Love Everlasting (22 page)

“Dunstan de Granville says two men whom he
knows to be French spies are staying at an inn not far from the
castle gate,” Cadwallon reported on the last day of December, while
they took their usual private afternoon walk along the battlements.
“He didn’t want to come to you about it himself, since you and he
are supposed to be on bad terms.”

“You know as well as I that there is nothing
unusual in King Louis’s agents following King Henry’s court,” Royce
said. “All the same, we need to watch them closely, in case they
are involved in this supposed plot against the queen.”

“Do you doubt Dunstan’s information?”
Cadwallon asked. “Certainly, you don’t doubt the man, himself?”

“No, to both questions.” Royce sighed and
rubbed his face with his hands. “A move against the queen is
planned while she is here, in Norwich. The only doubts I have are
when and where it will occur.”

“Here’s another bit of news that will
interest you,” Cadwallon said. “I spotted Kenric last night, alone
in a corner with Julianna’s maid. He had one hand on her breast and
the other up her skirt. She wasn’t protesting; in fact she looked
to be enjoying herself, so I didn’t interfere.”

“I am not surprised.” Royce leaned his elbows
on the parapet and let his weary gaze roam over the frosty
countryside while he wished the Christmas season was over and he
was away from court and on the road to Wortham. “Julianna dislikes
Marie, who was inflicted on her years ago by Deane of Craydon. She
has asked me several times to send the wench back to Dol.”

“Perhaps you should.” Cadwallon rested one
big hand on Royce’s shoulder. “Let the maid go and make your wife
happy, while you eliminate a source of information for Kenric.”

“Not yet.” Royce found he could not look
directly at his old friend as he continued. “More than Julianna’s
dislike of Marie is at stake, or even the possibility that Marie is
passing information to Kenric. Something deep and dark and very
devious is playing out amongst those three. I have to discover what
it is.”

“Do you think it may have something to do
with the plot against the queen?”

“Possibly.” He couldn’t bring himself to add
that he didn’t know how he’d react if he learned for certain that
Julianna was involved. He’d never flinch from doing his duty to his
king, but how he’d live with himself afterward he could not
guess.

“You know I’ll do whatever I can to help,”
Cadwallon said. His hand pressed a little harder on Royce’s
shoulder, then fell away.

“Let us begin by going below and joining the
festivities,” Royce said.

“If you are hoping to appear festive, then
you’d better smile.” Cadwallon grinned at him, as if to demonstrate
how it was done.

Later that same evening, Royce’s men stopped
a suspicious-looking fellow who was trying to sneak into the castle
in the bottom of a cart filled with sacks of grain. The man was
taken to the castle dungeon, where Royce and Lord Cortland
questioned him, using Royce’s preferred method of intimidation.
They threatened the prisoner with horrible tortures, then left him
alone to think about the threats while his fear grew by the
hour.

“Judging by his accent, his name isn’t
Peter,” Lord Cortland said as he and Royce climbed the stairs out
of the dungeon. “More likely, it’s Pierre. What’s in the letter you
found in his shoe?”

“It’s in Latin, not code,” Royce said. “It
purports to discuss a scheme against the queen’s life.”

“Purports, you say?” Lord Cortland’s eyebrows
rose. “Don’t you believe it? If it’s true, then we may have the
very man who means the queen ill.”

“I neither believe nor disbelieve what’s in
the letter,” Royce said. “I pray you are right and we have captured
a would-be murderer. But, what if the letter is a trick?”

“I could never think in the tortuous ways
that you spies do,” Lord Cortland said, shaking his head in
disapproval. “When it comes to scheming, you rival the Byzantines.
Still, you may be right about this, and if you are, we must
continue to guard the queen most carefully.”

“We will,” Royce promised. “Meanwhile, let us
leave our prisoner alone until morning, to consider the threats we
made. Perhaps, if we suggest we may withhold torture, we’ll have
the truth out of him then, without the need to listen to him
screaming beforehand.”

“My lord, I could almost begin to like you,”
Lord Cortland said. He bestowed a quick smile on Royce, then held
out his hand.

“My feelings exactly,” Royce told him, and
clasped the constable’s hand in a firm grip.

By the time the morning of Twelfth Night
arrived, Julianna had begun to wonder if she would soon go mad.

Royce seemed determined to torment her by
offering no help at all in her quest for apparently important but
actually useless information that she could pass along to
Kenric.

Though Julianna was not officially appointed
as one of Queen Adelicia’s ladies, she often filled in for Janet,
who continued to suffer from morning sickness. The queen was kind,
but the other ladies generally did their best to make Julianna feel
unwelcome, since she was not really one of them. She could not
avoid hearing their overloud whispers about Royce the spymaster and
his mysterious activities, which the ladies hinted had to do with
women other than his wife.

Julianna bore their not-always subtle insults
with dignity, reminding herself that Royce had given her no reason
to suspect him of infidelity and that he continued to bed her every
night. She didn’t see how he’d have time for another woman. Telling
herself that there was always the chance she’d overhear something
amongst the malicious whispers that might prove useful to Royce,
she continued to listen to the gossip. But she was finding the
hours she spent with the queen and her women unpleasant and
disturbing.

Then there was the problem presented by
Marie. The maid’s snide remarks and nasty tricks while dressing
Julianna or arranging her hair became more offensive every day, and
Royce refused to consider dismissing her.

Kenric continued to importune Julianna for
secret information. Each time he approached her, he seemed more
angry than the last time. He accused her of reneging on their
agreement that she would tell him everything she learned from Royce
in return for his silence about her previous spying.

Faced by so many aggravations that she could
do nothing about, Julianna began to count the days until the
Christmas court was over and she and Royce could leave Norwich and
head for Craydon. She had never liked the dismal wooden fortress
that was her second husband’s primary, though neglected holding,
but she couldn’t wait to be gone from court. Kenric would not be at
Craydon and perhaps, once they were there, she could finally talk
Royce into sending Marie away.

Julianna’s gloomy outlook deepened into
melancholy at the prospect of the foolery of Twelfth Night. It was
the one occasion of the year when the servants ruled the household
and the nobles acted as servants. King Henry and Queen Adelicia,
mindful of their royal dignity, planned to watch rather than
participate in the revelry, and Julianna was certain that Royce and
Cadwallon would consider themselves on duty throughout the night.
So would the very sober and sensible Lord Cortland. All of which
meant that Kenric would find it easy to approach Julianna, so she’d
have to be on her guard against him.

“I hope you will appear more cheerful in
public than you are right now,” Royce said to her as he watched her
dressing for the midday feast and the celebration that would
continue until midnight. He was already garbed in a splendid green
silk tunic trimmed with gold at the neck and wrists. His belt was
of gilded leather and the heavy gold chain around his neck
supported a large, jewel-encrusted medallion. He stood before her
with his fists at his trim waist and his long, muscular legs in
tight-fitting green hose planted slightly apart.

Julianna was sitting on the side of the bed
while Marie fastened the ribbons that secured her slippers. She
would rather have tied the ribbons herself; Marie always tied them
either uncomfortably tight, or so loose that the shoes came off as
soon as Julianna began to dance. But she made herself ignore what
she had often suspected was deliberate incompetence on Marie’s
part. Instead, she gave her full attention to Royce. She wasn’t
certain whether his challenging stance was meant to intimidate her,
or to offer her a view of some of his most impressive manly
attributes. She was never sure what Royce’s intentions were, except
when he took her to bed and put his arms around her and began to
kiss and caress her.

“Julianna, you are woolgathering,” he
said.

“Am I?” Deciding she’d not allow herself to
be intimidated or seduced, she stared rather pointedly at the area
halfway between his knees and his belt and let her mouth curve into
a slight smile. “I will try my best to satisfy your wishes, my
lord.”

He did not respond, but when she glanced up
at his face she thought he was repressing a chuckle.

“Marie, you may go,” Julianna said.

“I haven’t finished lacing your dress,” Marie
objected.

“I am capable of lacing myself,” Julianna
snapped, annoyed by the way Marie always raised an objection to
whatever order her mistress issued. Seeing how Royce’s eyebrows
rose in surprise at her sharp tone, she spoke more kindly to the
maid. “Go on, Marie; I know you will want to prepare for the feast
and the dancing. Enjoy yourself tonight. You needn’t attend me at
dawn tomorrow, either. I am sure we will all sleep a bit late.”

“As you wish, my lady.” Marie left the
room.

“She’s rude and she never says thank you,”
Julianna muttered as soon as the door had closed. “I cannot tell
you how much I dislike her. I wish you would let me send her
away.”

“Marie and Kenric are lovers,” Royce said,
never taking his gaze from Julianna’s face.

“I know.” Irritation got the better of her
and she added, “It’s one of several reasons why Kenric feels free
to demand that I provide him with information. I am heartily sick
of both of them. Can’t you find an excuse to have them thrown into
the nearest dungeon?”

“Are you serious?” The expression on his
handsome face was unreadable.

“You were right in the beginning, you know,”
she admitted. “I am not made to be a spy. I hate the lies and
deceptions and having to think two or three times before I speak,
for fear I’ll say the wrong thing and give away - give away - oh,
never mind. You wouldn’t understand. You relish your life and the
work you do.”

“Stop it!” He caught her shoulders and shook
her hard. “What the devil is the matter with you tonight? Julianna,
look at me. Don’t turn your head away. What is wrong? What do you
know that you aren’t telling me?”

“I don’t know anything. That’s the trouble.
The queen is so closely guarded that I fear her life must be in
danger. I hate leaving this room because Kenric is always waiting
for me, insisting I must reveal secrets that I don’t have. But if I
remain here, Marie harangues me about helping Kenric. Janet is
either with her children or hanging her head over a basin. I have
no one to talk to, and you - you don’t like or trust me and you
won’t confide in me. Send me away, Royce. Let me enter a convent,
where I can spend my days in prayer far from this wretched court.”
She finally halted her tirade when Royce burst into laughter.

“You, in a convent? I think not, my
passionate lady.” He sobered quickly and his gaze was like an iron
lance, pinning her in place where she stood. “You are stubborn,
arrogant, and every bit as secretive as I am, so don’t accuse me of
not confiding in you. You trust me no more than I trust you, and
you’ve known the terms of our marriage from the beginning.”

“Honesty,” she said, defying his claim of
distrust. “We pledged to deal honestly with each other. But you are
not being honest with me, are you?”

“I never thought to hear you whining in
self-pity,” he said. He removed his hands from her shoulders and
stepped away from her. “I have obligations to my king and his
queen, and I am overdue in the great hall. I expect you to appear
there within the hour, and to smile and dance and talk and be
polite until the evening ends.”

“I am never rude,” she exclaimed, preparing
to defend herself.

“Not to others,” he conceded. “Only to
me.”

He lifted one hand and for a moment she
thought he was going to caress her cheek, or perhaps hold her face
still so he could kiss her. She hoped he would. The desperate need
she felt for the reasurance of his mouth on hers startled and
frightened her.

He did not touch her. He dropped his hand and
left, not even looking back at her. When he was gone she sat for a
time without moving. Then, with a sigh that ended on a sob, she
pushed herself off the edge of the bed and went to the washstand.
She poured water into the basin and washed her tears away, and
laced the sides of her gown, and then retied her shoes the way she
wanted them tied.

“I will take a lesson from Royce and do as he
does,” she vowed, speaking softly in the quiet room. “I will
observe as if from a slight distance; I’ll watch everyone and
listen carefully to what people say. Perhaps I’ll learn something
to tell Kenric that will make him leave me alone. Better yet, I may
see or hear something that will be of use to Royce. Oh, Royce,” she
ended on a sad little breath.

Warning herself not to be a fool where Royce
was concerned, she lifted her chin to its most arrogant height,
squared her shoulders, and followed her husband to the great
hall.

She found the celebration already under way.
On this festive night servants sat at the tables, while the nobles
carried large platters from place to place, offering food as if
they were the humble folk. The feast went on for hours. Julianna
assisted with the serving for a time. She nibbled at a bit of bread
and swallowed a few sips of wine, but after her argument with
Royce, her stomach was clenched into such a tight knot that the
thought of consuming more food made her feel ill. In addition, she
was assailed by a deep uneasiness.