Love Everlasting (25 page)

Perhaps Royce understood what she had only
dimly perceived at the time; that the powerful emotions resulting
from violent actions and near death required an equally powerful
exorcism. By his act of wild and unfettered passion and by carrying
her along with him to that amazing, shattering conclusion, Royce
had given her what she most needed.

Was it possible that, seeing her close to
death he, too, had been frightened, terrified to the depths of his
being? Had he needed their forceful coming together just as much as
she had? But, if that was so, why did he claim to despise her and
why had he decided to send her away?

After a moment’s reflection, she thought she
knew why. Royce was a remarkably intelligent man and he had spent a
lifetime observing men and women, their actions and their
reactions. Thus, he had discerned her deepest dishonesty. He had
guessed that she kept a secret she dared not reveal to him or to
anyone else.

There was nothing she could do to remedy the
situation. It was too late. Suspicious as he was of her, he’d never
believe the truth if she told it to him now. He’d never believe
that she longed to stay with him, that she ached to feel his arms
around her at night and wanted to wake beside him each morning.
That, in fact, she wanted to tell him the entire truth about Deane,
but even now, years after the event, she simply wasn’t brave
enough.

“Oh, Royce,” she murmured, the words escaping
from her aching heart, “if only I didn’t love you so much....

In the smallest chamber of the royal
apartments King Henry gathered with Royce and four other trusted
men. One of Henry’s most endearing characteristics was his habit of
offering his personal thanks to the agents who served him well,
albeit secretly.

Royce knew of at least a dozen spies, all of
them younger sons or illegitimate sons, who originally held no hope
of inheriting land and, therefore, had not dared to hope they’d
ever be able to marry and have a family. In spite of that serious
disadvantage of birth those who survived their missions often
earned honors and titles by their valor and daring in the king’s
service. Men who were so well rewarded were, without exception,
completely loyal to their liege lord and were willing to risk their
lives again in the future, should Henry need them.

At his place standing slightly behind the
king’s chair Royce stiffled a yawn, followed by a shiver, also
repressed. He had not slept at all, it was not yet dawn, and the
room was cold. An icy rain sluiced down the rippled greenish glass
of the single tiny window. In less than an hour the royal chaplain
would begin the Holy Mass that celebrated the Feast of the
Epiphany. The present meeting would be abbreviated so the king
could join the queen for the service. On this morning, they had
cause for rejoicing.

“Well done, my lords,” King Henry said,
looking from Dunstan to Cortland to Cadwallon and then to Sir
Michael. “Royce promised me that you were all dependable, and so
you have proven yourselves. Thanks to you, Queen Adelicia is alive
and unharmed. My lord Dunstan, I understand that you are willing to
continue the nefarious chore of pretending to be a French spy while
you send false information to King Louis?”

“I’ll do so gladly,” said Dunstan, who had
already received his orders from Royce. Within the next week or so
Dunstan was to slip away from the royal court and head north. There
he was to insinuate himself into a group of nobles who had recently
contacted the French to ask for aid in fomenting an uprising near
the Scottish border. “I dislike Louis, but I loathe several of his
agents even more. My only regret is that Kenric got away.”

“We cannot be entirely certain he is gone
from Norwich,” Lord Cortland spoke up. “Kenric may still be in
hiding somewhere in the town. If he is, I promise we will find
him.”

“I’m sure you will.” King Henry smiled at his
constable. “Cortland, your work in this matter has been exemplary.
Subterfuge is not your usual way of handling a problem. I know how
difficult the last few weeks have been for you.”

“Indeed, Lord Cortland,” Royce said. “It has
been an honor to work with you. You have no idea how refreshing it
is to deal with a completely straightforward man.”

“Humph,” was Lord Cortland’s only response to
Royce’s speech, though when Royce held out his hand, Cortland took
it without hesitation and the two, who never would be friends but
who were bound by their mutual loyalty to and affection for their
king, shook hands.

Royce knew Cortland well enough to be certain
he was blaming himself for Kenric’s escape. Norwich Castle was,
after all, Cortland’s responsibility and he had done his best to
secure all of the exits even before the attack on the queen
occurred. How Kenric had managed to get away remained open to
question.

Royce suspected that one or two supposedly
loyal nobles had left the festivities in the great hall long enough
to assist Kenric, for his personal possessions, his horses, and his
squire were also missing and that could not have been accomplished
without help. As far as Royce was concerned, Kenric was long gone
from the vicinity of Norwich and was most likely in a hiding place
provided by those who had aided his escape. If Royce’s conclusion
was correct, Kenric could be depended upon to cause more trouble in
the future.

Royce wanted the names of any noblemen who
might have helped Kenric, and he wanted proof against those men. He
had several suspects in mind, and he was eager to start a quiet
investigation.

“Sir Michael,” King Henry was saying to
Royce’s secretary, “Cadwallon tells me that you are the one who
stopped Kenric before he could reach the high table. I am
grateful-”

“Actually, my lord,” Michael interrupted the
king, ignoring Henry’s raised eyebrows at the breach of good
manners, “the person who saved Queen Adelicia is not here. Lady
Julianna alerted me just before she prevented her maid from
striking a blow that could have been fatal. I was able to delay
Kenric, but Lady Julianna was the real heroine.”

“I’ll see to it that she receives my thanks,
and the queen’s,” King Henry said. Turning to the last of the men
who stood before him, he added, “As for you, Cadwallon, I seem to
have a new reason to thank you every few months or so. I was too
far away to help but I saw with my own eyes how you placed yourself
between the queen and the knife that wicked maidservant, Marie, was
wielding. For your brave act you have my eternal thanks.”

“It was no more than my duty, my lord,”
Cadwallon said, bowing.

“I feel compelled to ask where Lady Janet was
during the excitement,” King Henry said with a smile.

“Unfortunately, our daughter, Sybilla, was
sick yesterday, with the croup,” Cadwallon said. “Janet refused to
leave her, and so she wasn’t in the great hall. She was greatly put
out to learn that she had missed everything.”

“I’m sure she was.” The king laughed; he knew
Janet of old. “Has your daughter recovered?”

“Yes, my lord, but this morning Janet is
hanging her head over a basin. It’s a daily thing with her these
days, and will be for another few weeks.”

“Ah.” King Henry nodded his understanding. “I
wish her well and I hope she bears a healthy child.

“My lords,” he went on, speaking now to all
of them, “I thank you again. I’ll not forget what you have done for
me and for the queen. You may leave me now. Royce, please stay. I
want a few moments with you in private.”

The men departed, Cadwallon sending a knowing
glance in Royce’s direction as he reached the door. Royce made a
surreptitious gesture that indicated they’d talk shortly.

“So,” King Henry said when he and Royce were
alone, “are you satisfied that Julianna is not an agent of King
Louis? I certainly am; her attempt to stop Marie from killing the
queen seems to me adequate evidence of her loyalty. She could
easily have pretended not to see what was happening.”

“Indeed, my lord.”

“You don’t sound convinced. Have you reason
to doubt her?”

“No solid reason,” Royce admitted. “Perhaps
my thoughts are twisted after so many years of dealing with spies
and criminals.” Perhaps those thoughts were further twisted by his
aching need to make love to Julianna again, more gently this time,
and to hear her cry of pleasure at the end, just before he
dissolved into his own deep and fulfilling resolution.

“What, then?” King Henry demanded, the
question recalling Royce to the present discussion. “Out with it,
man; you know I will listen to your most speculative
conclusions.”

“I have known spies who risked their own
lives, even allowed themselves to be injured, in order to appear
honest and loyal.”

“Do you imagine Julianna is that devious?
Holy Saints, Royce; you sleep with the woman. You speak with her
every day. With all of your experience in dealing with secret
agents, can’t you tell if she’s lying?”

“I have decided to send her away from court,”
Royce said. He didn’t really want her gone, but he refused to admit
his need for her to the king. Even less was he willing to tell
Julianna how he felt. He wanted her with him, to keep a close watch
on her, and have her in his bed each night. But he knew his duty,
and Julianna would be a serious distraction to him as he sought
those who were behind the attack on the queen, the shadowy figures
who directed the deed, but who did not take part in it. Nor was
Royce fool enough to imagine they’d seen the last of Kenric, who
must be furious with Julianna. Probably, furious enough to kill.
Julianna would be safe at Wortham.

“I do not understand your reasoning,” King
Henry said.

“Wortham has been without a chatelaine for
more than half a year,” Royce told him, evading a direct response.
“Julianna has many duties awaiting her there.”

“I’ll not allow you to leave with her.” King
Henry looked astonished at the very idea. “You cannot go from court
until every detail of this plot against the queen is uncovered and
those responsible for it are dead or imprisoned.”

“I have no intention of leaving.” Royce
didn’t think it was necessary to add what they both knew, that a
resourceful secret agent, left alone, could cause a great deal of
trouble, even from a distance. Kenric was the man who’d been
charged with carrying out the scheme; therefore, he was the man who
had to be captured and made to talk. “I will unravel the plot.”

“Good,” the king said. A faint smile lit his
face as he continued. “I wonder, Royce, if you realize how much I
have begun to care for Adelicia? When Queen Matilda died, I
believed my heart was buried with her. Last February, I married
Adelicia only because I need a male heir. Yet, in less than a year
her gentle ways and her sweet nature have thoroughly beguiled me.
So, you see, it is possible to find happiness in a second marriage.
I suggest you think well upon my experience.”

“I am glad for you, my lord,” Royce said,
“and I do solemnly vow that no harm will come to Queen
Adelicia.”

“Very well, then,” King Henry said, rising
from his chair. “I leave the matter of the queen’s safety in your
hands. Now, I must go. I fear I will be late for Mass.”

“I’m sure the priest will wait for you,”
Royce said with a wry little smile.

“But it would be rude of me to make him wait.
Are you coming?”

“Yes, my lord.” With a heavy heart Royce
followed his king out of the room.

“You want me to escort her?” Cadwallon gaped
at him.

Once again they were pacing along the
northern battlements, where the cold wind blew pellets of ice and
sleet on them. Royce welcomed the discomfort. The weather suited
his wintry mood.

“I would count it a great favor,” he said to
his old friend, “though I know you must be loathe to abandon Janet
just now.”

“Ha!” Cadwallon exclaimed. “There you are
wrong. Janet doesn’t like me to see her sick every morning, with
her hair limp and her eyes watering. She says I will lose all
desire for her, seeing her that way, and that I am more nuisance
than help at times like these. I do believe she will be glad to see
the last of me for a month or so. But, Royce, I’ll not consent to
be away for much longer than that. We both want to return to
Hatherford well before the time for her confinement, while it’s
still safe for her to travel.”

“Agreed,” Royce said. “I’m sending Michael to
Wortham with you. He can stay on there when you leave.”

“Stay? What of his secretarial duties? Don’t
you need him closer?”

“This assignment is more important. I have
ordered him to send regular reports to me,” Royce said, knowing
Cadwallon would see through his bland expression and mild tone of
voice.

“If you distrust Julianna enough to want her
gone from court, why send her to Wortham, where she’ll be free to
cause trouble or to plot against you? Not that I think she’d ever
do either. Janet says she is honest, and I agree with her. Janet is
seldom wrong about people.”

“Wortham needs a chatelaine.” What Royce
needed, and knew he should not need, was Julianna in his bed and
close in his arms each night. He refused to allow himself to give
in to a desire he ought not to feel.

“You need a wife more,” said Cadwallon.

Those words struck so close to everything
Royce was resisting that he turned and stalked away, departing from
the battlements knowing he left Cadwallon staring after him with
open mouth and worried eyes.

Royce did not fully believe King Henry’s
comments about his new-found affection for Queen Adelicia. Henry
had been repeatedly unfaithful to his first queen, Matilda.
Therefore, in Royce’s opinion, he could not have been as
brokenhearted after she died as Royce had been at Avisa’s
death.

Furthermore, unlike Queen Matilda, Avisa
hadn’t died naturally. She had been murdered by an agent of King
Louis, and years had passed before Royce was able to bring the
killer to justice. With the killer imprisoned for life in a
securely guarded royal castle, Royce had found a measure of peace
and an easing of his guilt over Avisa’s death.