Notorious (12 page)

“I'm going to faint,” Isabelle whispered.

Brianna swept up a goblet of wine and pressed it into the queen's hand. “No, you must
not
!”

Isabelle took two quick gulps of wine and felt its restorative warmth seep along her veins. She drained the goblet and a red rose bloomed in her breast. It bolstered her confidence and she saw clearly that by the time dinner was served, Edward would be well into his cups, as indeed he was most nights.

That's when I'll ask him if I can return to Windsor because I want to be with the children. I haven't seen them for more than a month and I miss them sorely. If I ask when he is drunk, in front of his sycophantic attendants, he will not be able to deny himself the grandiose gesture of granting me my wish.

 

The following day, Walter Reynolds, the Archbishop of Canterbury, arrived at his castle of Tonbridge. He had more attendants in his entourage than King Edward.

The queen, with her ladies at her side, kissed the archbishop's ring. “Your Excellency, please accept my deep gratitude for the hospitality you have so generously provided to me, my ladies in waiting, and the people who serve me.”

“I am honored that you chose Tonbridge Castle for sanctuary in your hour of need. It is a privilege indeed to offer my humble hospitality to the beloved Queen of England.” Reynolds was well aware there was nothing
humble
about it. “Please stay as long as you desire…My castle is your castle.”

The king replied for the queen. “Unfortunately, my wife must return to Windsor tomorrow. She has been away from the children for over a month. The Earl of Pembroke and the other nobles who gallantly rode into Kent on her behalf will assure her safe escort. I, however, intend to enjoy a visit with you here at Tonbridge. I never tire of looking at the treasures you have collected over the years.”

Walter Reynolds knew immediately that Edward wanted something. He had been part of Prince Edward's household at Kings Langley when they were little more than boys, and he owed his appointment as Archbishop of Canterbury to the king. He knew he would have to accommodate Edward, if he was to continue living in splendor.

Queen Isabelle's party left the next morning, and that night Edward closeted himself with Reynolds in his magnificent library.

“I want you to summon a convocation of the clergy to Saint Paul's Cathedral to formally annul the sentence of banishment on the Despencers.”

“On what grounds could it be formally declared null and void, Your Grace?” Walter Reynolds asked carefully.

“
You
are the fucking Archbishop of Canterbury. I have every confidence that you will find just cause, Walter.” Edward helped himself to his friend's imported French wine.

Reynolds steepled his fingers as his mind searched for a religious excuse that would hold water. Finally, he said, “The sentence of banishment could be annulled on the grounds that it did not have the unanimous support of the bishops.”

“Brilliant!” Edward refilled the jewel-encrusted chalice and saluted his friend. “Waste no time. Summon them to Saint Paul's by the first of December. I'm sure I don't need to emphasize that until it is a fait accompli, I rely upon your discretion in this sensitive matter, Walter.”

 

“I insist that you ride with your wife, Lord Pembroke. Marie has seen very little of you lately.” Isabelle did not want to hear the gory details of the surrender of Leeds Castle. She was secretly appalled that Lady Badlesmere and her young family had been imprisoned and was tired of listening to Marie's righteous insistence that the harridan deserved to be hanged.

Before the queen's party left Kent, however, two more prominent earls, along with their forces, joined the entourage. Richmond and Arundel flanked Queen Isabelle and she graciously thanked them for their loyal support.

By the time they crossed into Surrey, the king's young half brothers, Kent and Norfolk, caught up with them and decided they too would travel to Windsor. Edmund, Earl of Kent, was attracted to the fair-haired, blue-eyed Marguerite Wake, and he maneuvered his mount so that he could ride between Marguerite and Brianna.

“Lady Marguerite, your ordeal at Leeds Castle must have been terrifying.”

“Indeed it was, my lord earl. I would have been killed, if Lady Brianna had not snatched my palfrey's reins and forced her back down the causeway.”

He turned to look more closely at Brianna and when he recognized her, his eyes widened. “Mistress de Beauchamp, I am delighted to see you back at the Queen's Court.” He called to his brother, the Earl of Norfolk. “Tom, come and see who is here.”

Norfolk joined them. “Brianna! I had no idea you were back at court. You have blossomed into a rare beauty.”

“It's Lady Brianna, if you don't mind, and I can still beat you in a horse race,” she teased.

The royal brothers grinned as their hot glances swept over the two ladies in waiting. “Christmas season at Windsor promises to be rather festive,” the Earl of Norfolk remarked.

Brianna smiled her secret smile.
I have given my heart to Lincoln Robert. Thomas of Norfolk will have to find another lady to amuse him when he learns I am betrothed.

 

Though the hour was late when Isabelle arrived back at Windsor, she could not resist visiting the nursery wing where her children had already been put to bed. It warmed Brianna's heart when young Prince John threw his arms about his mother and told her he had missed her. Little Eleanor was so excited she jumped up and down on her bed and giggled delightfully when Brianna told her she could jump better than a frog.

Isabelle kissed baby Joan gently. She was sound asleep and her mother did not want to disturb her.

As they left the nursery, Brianna saw the tears glistening in Isabelle's eyes. “Don't cry…They love you with all their hearts.”

The nobles who had escorted Isabelle and her retinue back to Windsor Castle took up residence in the chambers that were always reserved for them. The Earl and Countess of Pembroke had a suite of rooms in the Round Tower and Marie had permission from Isabelle to withdraw with her husband for a few days.

When the king summoned Pembroke to Westminster, Marie rejoined Isabelle and the other ladies. She was eager to relate the things she had learned from her husband that the queen was unaware of.

“The Marcher barons left Oxford intending to support Badlesmere, but when Roger Mortimer learned about the attack on the queen, he sent a message to Pembroke pledging that out of respect for Queen Isabelle they would not go to the relief of Leeds Castle.”

“Thank God Roger Mortimer is a man of honor. There could have been a terrible battle in Kent if he had brought his forces to aid Leeds Castle,” Isabelle said with relief.

“Roger Mortimer's heir, Edmund, is wed to Elizabeth Badlesmere. Their loyalties must be torn.” Brianna felt great empathy with the Mortimers. “It must have been a difficult decision to make.”

“After the castle surrendered, Roger Mortimer sent another message from Reading offering to mediate for the prisoners, but Pembroke told me the king flatly refused his offer,” Marie said.

Brianna was surprised to hear that Roger Mortimer and his forces were at Reading.
That's only a dozen miles from here!
Brianna pictured him as she had last seen him mounted on his black stallion, and it made her pulse race. Her thoughts gravitated to Wolf Mortimer and she wondered why she and the dark Borderer were always at odds when they encountered each other.
The Welsh devil tries to goad me on purpose…and always manages to spark my anger.
Brianna's innate honesty made her admit she did the same to him.
I made a point of telling him I was betrothed to Lincoln Robert simply to annoy him.
She sighed. It hadn't seemed to bother him in the least.

 

The nobles who were eager to show their loyalty to Queen Isabelle now congregated at Windsor Castle. Richmond, Arundel, and the other married earls were joined by their wives and daughters. In the evenings the Great Hall was filled with music and laughter, and after dinner there was dancing.

The queen and her ladies began to plan for the Christmas festivities, and Brianna was relieved that Isabelle looked happier. “Do you suppose the king will come to spend Christmas at Windsor?”

“Thank heavens, no!” Isabelle murmured. “He always celebrates the festive season at Kings Langley. It has become a tradition.”

Brianna knew that Langley had been Prince Edward's residence when he was a youth and could only imagine the debauched atmosphere of the all-male household.

After dinner, the Earl of Richmond bowed to the queen and led her out in the dance. Edmund of Kent immediately asked Marguerite Wake to partner him, and his brother Norfolk managed to persuade Brianna to dance.

“Will you be spending Christmas at Windsor, my lord, or will you go with the king to Langley?”

Tom leaned down to speak in confidence. “Edward isn't going to Langley this year. Now that he has gathered such a large army, he intends to make full use of it. He is determined to reclaim his royal prerogative and deal with the barons who rebelled against him and defied him.”

Brianna's heart leaped into her throat. She lowered her lashes so that Norfolk could not see her alarm.
Does he mean Lancaster? Nay, Thomas is the king's cousin and has royal blood. Edward is going to seek revenge against Roger Mortimer, who led the rebellion! His punishment will be terrible—he will have no mercy.

“I
must rid myself of this ominous foreboding.”

Wolf Mortimer spoke his thoughts aloud to Shadow, who stood beside him on the bank of the Thames, not far from where the Marchers were camped. His clothes felt constricting, so he removed them, knowing his spirit could commune more freely without the impediment of his garments. He shook his head to banish the gloom, hoping the dark clouds that had gathered in the evening sky were coloring his mood.

Grateful that Welsh mountain streams had inured him to the cold, Wolf dove into the river and cut through the water with powerful, clean strokes. The Thames, however, did not cleanse away the feeling of menace; it clung like a cobweb he could neither wash away nor ignore.

Wolf climbed from the water and shook himself. He was reluctant to voice his premonition to his father, lest it become a self-fulfilling prophecy. It was full dark now and he stared with unseeing eyes into the blackness. He willed himself to relax, giving up control so that his unconscious mind could leave the present and penetrate the future.

He saw Edmund's wife, Elizabeth, and knew that though she was confined, she would survive. Her father, however, wore a noose—a portent of certain death. He conjured a picture of the king, but it was the degenerate male at Edward's side who wore the crown. For the Mortimers he sensed sinister threats from both east and west, and betrayal from the north. He saw his father in the jaws of a closing trap, and knew snares lay in every direction. Death awaited three Marcher barons, but before he learned which, he felt something brush against his leg. His hand reached down and touched Shadow and he was jolted back into the present. He dug his fingers into his animal's thick silver fur and knew that her life too was threatened unless she found a safe haven.

Wolf heard the distant but ominous rumble of thunder in the west, coming from the direction of the Welsh Borders. Jagged lightning flashed in the east, a sure warning that the danger from London was closer and more deadly. He dressed quickly, knowing he could remain silent no longer.

 

Don't rush off, it may arouse suspicion.
Brianna schooled herself to patience and did not leave Windsor's Great Hall until Isabelle and her other ladies departed.

As Brianna hurried to her chamber, her mind darted about like quicksilver. She knew she must warn Roger Mortimer of the king's intent and had formed a plan while she had been dancing.

Brianna lit the candles and, as she dipped a quill into the inkwell, she warned herself against using Roger Mortimer's name.

Brianna folded the unsigned letter and melted wax to seal it. She put on her dark green velvet cloak, pulled the hood up to conceal her bright hair, and slipped from her chamber. She took the outside steps that led down into the Upper Ward and, moving slowly, avoiding the pools of light from the outside torches, made her way to the castle's Lower Ward. By the Norman gate were the lodgings of the guards and grooms and she hesitated for a moment, wanting to be sure she chose the right room before she knocked. A sudden flash of lightning revealed the Warwick bear and staff device on a door and her knees felt weak with relief.

Simon Deveril opened to her knock and Brianna quickly slipped inside. “It's me…Don't light the candles.”

“Lady Brianna, what's amiss?” He knew she would never venture outside at midnight without great provocation.

“Simon, I just learned of a vile plot against the Mortimers. The king intends to use the forces he has gathered to take revenge on the Marcher barons. They are close by at Reading. Will you deliver this letter of warning into Roger Mortimer's hands?”

“Are you sure of this, my lady?”

“The king's own brother, Thomas of Norfolk, confided it to me. There is no time to lose—they must flee!”

“I'll go now.” He took the letter.

“I didn't sign it, so be sure to tell him it comes from Warwick's daughter, Brianna.”

“He will recognize me as Warwick's man.”

“Simon, I thank you with all my heart. Perhaps you can keep ahead of the storm.”

“The storm's over London. It will likely move out to sea. There's no need to thank me. Mortimer is a kinsman of Warwick.”

 

Brianna returned to her chamber and readied herself for bed. Before climbing beneath the covers, she sank to her knees and said her prayers. She asked that Simon Deveril be guided to the right place and that Roger Mortimer would heed her warning. She prayed that the divine spirit would protect all. She gave thanks that Deveril was willing to risk danger to do her bidding, and then she thanked God that her father cared enough to provide her with a Warwick man whose devoted service she could rely upon.

Brianna lay in bed with her eyes wide open, too tense to sleep. In spirit she was with Simon on every mile of his journey. She tried to calculate how long it would take him to get to Reading, then wondered how much time would elapse before he located Roger Mortimer. She began to worry that Simon might not find Roger at all, but quickly banished her pessimistic thoughts.

When will Simon get back to Windsor? If all goes well, he should certainly be back by morning
, she assured herself. Brianna tossed and turned for hours in a vain attempt to sleep. Finally, she imagined she saw the first faint light of dawn creep into her chamber, and all thoughts of sleep fled.

She threw back the covers impatiently and got out of bed. She poured cold water from the jug, washed, cleaned her teeth, and began to dress. To save time she put on the same clothes she had worn yesterday. She gave her tangled hair a cursory brushing, slipped on her cloak, and pulled its hood over her disheveled curls.
I'll go down to the stables and wait for him.

When she got outside she realized the sky only hinted at dawn, and Brianna guessed that it was somewhere between the hours of four and five. The stables at Windsor were vast, designed to hold over a hundred horses, and since the castle was at present occupied by many nobles and their families, she knew every stall would be filled. She was thankful that none of Windsor's servants or grooms would be up and about yet.

When Brianna went inside, she breathed in the miasma of horses, hay, and manure. It was a smell she had known all her life and it was somehow comforting. She was surprised and also vastly relieved to see that Simon had returned. She picked up her skirts and hurried toward him, anxiety written all over her face. “Did you find him?” she asked breathlessly.

“I did, m'lady.” Deveril jerked his thumb in the direction of the box stalls at the back of the stables. “You have a visitor.”

Her brows drew together in perplexity.
Who could it be?
Her heart began to hammer. She was reminded of her early morning meetings at the stable with Lincoln Robert and fancied he had come to visit her.

She lifted the latch on the wooden door of the first box stall and stepped in. The lamp was unlit and it was dim inside, but Brianna needed no light to identify her black-clad visitor.

Wolf Mortimer and Shadow stood motionless at the back of the stall. Brianna was so shocked that she was speechless.

“Hello, English.” His greeting was irreverent, as always.

“You should be gone—the danger is real!” Brianna said angrily.

“I know,” he said gently. “My future is uncertain, my road fraught with danger. I seek a haven for Shadow.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “You are asking
me
to find a safe haven for your wolf?”

He looked directly into her eyes. “I have no other.”

Brianna's vision had adjusted to the dimness and she saw his stark features clearly.
This man with his towering pride would only compromise it for love of this animal. It is costing him dearly to ask a favor of me.
“You honor me.”

“I do, Brianna de Beauchamp.” He knelt and fixed a lead to his wolf's collar.

Her mind quickly searched for an answer to the dilemma. “I will take her to my mother's castle of Chertsey, close by in Surrey.”

“I thank you.” He put the lead in her hand.

Brianna suddenly realized how much courage it took for him to part from his beloved wolf. He moved toward the stall door.

“Wait!” She removed the Celtic touchstone from around her neck and handed it to him. “Keep Shadow's likeness close to your heart.”

He took it from her and slipped the thong over his head. “I thank you.” Again he turned to leave.

“Wait! There's something else I must give you.” She knew it was impulsive, even reckless, but something compelled her. She feared they might never meet again and did not want them to part while she owed him a debt. She closed the distance between them, stood on tiptoe, and lifted her mouth to his. She gave him the kiss willingly, generously, allowing her animal instinct to guide her. Her hood fell back and she felt the power of his strong fingers as he threaded them into her disheveled hair. Heat leapt between them. Brianna could hear her heart beating wildly in her ears and the taste of him sent her senses reeling.

Brianna stood mesmerized long after the kiss had ended. She didn't remember him leaving. One moment he was there, the next he had disappeared into the dim shadows. The stall door opened and Simon Deveril stepped inside.

“I promised to take his wolf to Chertsey for safekeeping.”

He did not question her sanity; instead he said simply, “The fastest way is by river. Come, I will hail us a wherry boat.”

When they arrived at her mother's castle, the elderly steward greeted her warmly. He had always had a good deal of patience with the animals she had brought him when she was a small girl. He had helped her nurse many a rabbit back to health, then made sure she set them free once they were strong enough to eat and hop about.

“Mr. Croft, this is Shadow. She belongs to a Warwick kinsman who cannot keep her with him for the next few months. I've brought her to Chertsey because I know you will give her a safe home. The wolf is highly intelligent and when she visited Warwick Castle, she was extremely well behaved.”

The steward let Shadow sniff his hand. “Mrs. Croft will be in her glory. Our old dog died a month ago and we miss him something fierce. We'll take good care of this one.”

“I know you will, Mr. Croft. I'm now lady in waiting to Queen Isabelle at Windsor, so I promise to come and visit Shadow.”

“Come to the kitchen and have some breakfast before you leave.”

“Thank you. Lovely as that sounds, I must get back to Windsor.”

 

Wolf Mortimer did not waste time returning to Reading, but rode directly north from Windsor. He knew that by day's end he would catch up with the Marcher barons who were moving with all speed to meet with Thomas of Lancaster.

Last night lingered in Wolf's thoughts. When he had returned to camp from his midnight swim, his father summoned him and handed him the message from Brianna de Beauchamp. The news confirmed the visions he had experienced. “We must heed this warning. Grave danger threatens. Edward
will
bring his force against us.”

“I don't fear the feckless cocksucker!”

“Hugh Despencer set the trap at Leeds Castle. When it was successfully sprung, the king became power mad and he lusts for revenge. Hugh Despencer once again holds Edward by the balls, and is now plotting our downfall.”

“Experience has taught me to believe the things you foretell. You prophesied trouble at Leeds the night Edmund wed Elizabeth Badlesmere. This time I will heed your warning. Give the order to break camp. We will leave now. I'll pass the word to Hereford, Audley, and d'Amory.”

Wolf Mortimer's thoughts came back to the present and his fingers closed over the Celtic touchstone.
I was right to trust my instincts about Brianna de Beauchamp. Beneath her fiery temperament, she has a heart of gold.

Wolf caught up with the Mortimers sooner than he expected. Hereford and the other Marcher lords had fled with amazing speed, but Roger's progress had been impeded because his uncle of Chirk was ailing. In the Chilterns he had doubled over with pain and vomited blood.

Wolf conferred with his father and Edmund. “Take the men north with all speed. Leave us a packhorse with a tent and fodder. I'll remain with him, and we'll catch up when he's well enough to travel.”

Roger Mortimer, decisive as always, agreed. He would not jeopardize his or Chirk's forces because of one man's illness.

Wolf pitched the small tent in a sheltering stand of fir trees and made his uncle a bed with saddle blankets. Then he went off in search of wood betony. He found some and though the leaves were withered with the cold, it was the white thready roots of the plant that were beneficial for all manner of stomach ailments. He made a fire and boiled the roots in water from the stream. To make certain his patient slept, Wolf added a few drops of distilled poppy, which he always carried in his saddlebags.