Suzanne Robinson (33 page)

Juliana glanced at him again. This time he risked opening his eyes and meeting her gaze for a brief moment. The guard didn’t notice, but Juliana almost ruined them by gasping.

“Oh! Oh, yes, cuckoopint. It’s only meant for poultices and such. Thunder of God, Yolande, the whole plant is poisonous, the berries, leaves, flowers, even the roots.”

“I know. I read it in your herbal.” Yolande held out the wine bottle. “Here. Drink, or Osbert here will kill Gray.”

He tensed and stole a glance at Osbert. The fool was engrossed in the scene between the two women and wasn’t even watching him. Gray looked back at Juliana, who had grasped the bottle. She didn’t look at him again, and brought the vessel to her lips. Yolande stood over her with an expression of quiet beatitude while her eyes took on that soulless vacuity that so reminded Gray of a crocodile.

Osbert shifted his weight from foot to foot and looked at him, then shifted his attention to the women. Gray lowered his lashes as the man glanced at him. Juliana was tilting the bottle. Suddenly Yolande swooped at her and tipped the vessel so that the wine rushed out.

Gray rolled from beneath the swordpoint and jammed his feet into Osbert’s chest. “Juliana, spit it out!”

Gray heard screams, but he couldn’t take his eyes from the guard. Osbert flew backward and hit his head against the cave wall. He grunted like a stoat, but righted himself and charged Gray, his sword swinging over his head as he bellowed. Still weak from the blow to his head, Gray wasn’t quick enough to avoid him. Osbert was almost upon him when Juliana rushed between them and thrust the end of a burning log in the man’s face.

Osbert screamed, dropped his sword, and doubled over, his hands covering his face. Gray struggled to his knees and snatched the sword. He bashed the hilt against Osbert’s head, and the screams stopped as the guard collapsed. Juliana stared at the prone man while Gray searched the shadows of the cave for Yolande. The girl was lying next to the fire moaning.

Juliana swooped down on him, her face red with wine stains, and began patting him all over in search of wounds. Gray wiped drops of wine off her cheeks.

“Did you drink any of it?” he asked. “Stop that, Juliana, and tell me if you drank the poison.”

Juliana shook her head. “No, I spat it out. Phew, what an evil-tasting concoction. I should rinse my mouth.”

A strange, animal cry echoed off the cave walls. They turned as Yolande rushed at them, a knife in her hand. Juliana was kneeling beside him, eyes round, body rigid with surprise and fear. Without thinking, Gray shoved her aside as Yolande bore down on her. At the same time, he grabbed Osbert’s sword, which lay where he’d dropped it.

Yolande’s strike missed Juliana, but she swerved and turned on him instead. Her mouth distorted in a snarl, she plunged at him, aiming for his throat. Gray shouted a warning, but she kept coming, and at the last moment, he raised the sword to ward her off. It shot up just as she reached him, and Yolande ran onto its point. Gray cried out and tried to withdraw as she lunged, but she was too quick. Her body sank onto the blade before he could avoid her.

Cursing and gasping, he released the sword. Yolande’s head came up, and she looked at him. He pulled the sword from her. Her lips twisted into a grimace that resembled a smile. Blood rushed from her mouth. She choked several times as her body folded and dropped to the ground.

Gray threw the sword aside, stepped over Yolande. Juliana rose to her knees. He knelt before her and encircled her with his arms. They remained this way for long minutes without speaking.

“Oh, God, she almost got me,” Juliana said, breaking their silence.

He could feel her body trembling.

“And you,” she continued with her teeth chattering.

“I can’t believe it was Yolande. She seemed so sweet.”

“I know, I know. Don’t you think I’ve been trying to make sense of it too? You didn’t know her, and I suppose all along I just didn’t understand how deformed her spirit was.” She pressed her fingers to her lips, then took a deep breath and went on. “Since she came to us she was perplexing and full of crosswise qualities. Mother always said she’d been so indulged from a babe that she believed herself a person set apart from the rules that bind us all in Christian society. She played the simple maid with you, but she was far more.”

Gray hugged Juliana closer. “And you thought Arthur the murderer.”

“He could have been, but something Yolande said made me suspect her. She knew about the bloody sand in Edmund’s throat. I didn’t think about it at first, but later I realized that she and my sisters hadn’t been allowed to see the body. And I was certain that neither my father, Richard, nor any other knight would describe the body to her. That would be unchivalrous.”

“You suspected and you didn’t tell me? Holy hell, Juliana, what a thing to forget. You remember my slightest transgression, but you forget a murderer. God give me patience.”

Shoving away from his body, Juliana scowled at him. “Don’t bellow at me, Gray de Valence. I’ve just been near poisoned and stabbed to death.”

She was right. He’d almost lost her. He dragged her back to him, squeezing her as if to protect her from all harm with his body. She squeaked a protest, and he loosened his grip. With her head on his shoulder, she sighed.

He stroked her hair and mused. “God, she concealed her hatred well.”

“We all thought she had changed,” Juliana said. “When she first came to Wellesbrooke, she was selfish and cruel, but Mother corrected her evil habits.”

Gray let his fingers trail through Juliana’s hair for a while before speaking. “It seems she only concealed her real character behind a false one. Just God, if I had married her, in time she would have killed me for not complying with her most trivial wish.”

“Yes.” Juliana shivered. “We were all deceived into thinking she’d changed, but she never learned that wanting something isn’t the same as getting it. I remember how she was before Mother taught her manners; if she wished for something, she thought that wish would be fulfilled without question or impediment. All this time I thought she’d mended most of her faults and had become my friend.”

Juliana peered over his shoulder at Yolande’s body, then closed her eyes and sank against him. He felt another shiver pass through her body and heard a sob.

“Come, my joyance. You can’t stay here.”

He led her out of the cave, then returned for her cloak. He set her the task of saddling his horse to keep her from trying to help him with the grisly work of moving Yolande’s body and tying up Osbert. When he returned, she was waiting in the clearing with his hunter. He mounted and reached down, clasping her hand in his. She looked up at him with eyes bright with tears. He had to chase the fear away for her.

He bent down and asked, “Shall I toss you over my legs for old times’ sake?”

At first she just stared at him. Then her jaw muscle twitched and she frowned at him.

“Arrogant Viking,” she snapped. “There’ll be no more tossing me over your saddle or your shoulder. Try it, and
I’ll dose you with elder or bloodwort and you’ll have to live in the garderobe for days.”

He yanked her up into his arms and kissed her hard. Rubbing his nose against hers, he smiled softly. “There. I knew my fire-tempered wench hadn’t vanished, she was only hiding.”

Juliana glanced back at the cave, then rested her head on his shoulder. “Everyone thought I killed Edmund, after all my healing. They thought I was a murderer.”

“You helped them think it out of perverseness, and you know it.”

Instead of bursting into furious denial, she regarded him solemnly. “I wouldn’t have wanted to live if she’d killed you.”

His heart seemed to swell until it was too large for his chest. To mean so much to another, to know that his very existence was essential to her, this was a rare and wondrous gift.

“Oh, my joyance, my sweet, sweet love. I thank Christ and all the saints for sending me to your father’s tournament, and to you.”

Three weeks had passed since Yolande had died—three weeks during which Juliana had explained again and again about the girl’s hidden character, her desire for Gray, and all the other unbelievable happenings that were nevertheless true. Her father had come near to war with the Earl of Uvedale over the girl’s death until Gray intervened. And then had come the Stratfield messenger.

Gray’s father was near death. His presence was required at home. Gray hadn’t spoken of his family; his only comment was one whispered to himself that his presence hadn’t been required for most of his life, and he damned well didn’t see why it was required now. But he
had gone anyway, swayed by Arthur’s and Lucien’s arguments of duty to his dependents if not to his family.

He left Imad with Juliana. “I know you, my joyance. Imad may be able to prevent you from sparking infernos with your temper while I’m away.”

It was Imad who gave her a glimpse of why Gray seemed such a law unto himself. “When the master was accused of seducing his lord’s wife, he asked his father for help. The baron sent back a reply at once; he said that for such a crime he would kill his son himself rather than live with the mark upon his honor. Once his family abandoned him, the master had no one to turn to, and the lord was able to do with him what he wished. The master says the Stratfields have always placed themselves on the winning side. They kill the weak of the family to make he strong stronger.”

Thus Gray left to attend the deathbed of the father who had abandoned him to death. Juliana remained behind, and the longer he was away, the more doubts crept upon her. Once he returned to his family, would they and their dependents prevail upon him to make a better match? One of Gray’s most admirable qualities was his care for those beneath him. Generous of spirit, angelic of soul, Gray might want her, but his family, the great and powerful Stratfields, wouldn’t. He might not wish to put her aside, but he might be prevailed upon to do it for the sake of the barony.

As the days progressed, her old fears came trotting back like faithful hounds to the huntsman. They circled around in her heart, pawing at the soft places, and sat down to stay. What was she but a spiteful-tempered and malformed maid of too many years and too little beauty. She could never expect to keep Gray’s heart and interest.

Such thoughts plagued her even as the castle prepared for her wedding. It didn’t help that she’d made the same
preparations only a little over a year ago. By the time word came that Gray would meet her at the village chapel on the morning set aside for their wedding, she was so disturbed she almost didn’t believe he would keep his word. Mother and Bertrade made things worse with their incessant advice, which they dispensed whenever they encountered Juliana. She tried to avoid them, but they usually cornered her while she was being fitted for her wedding gown. Her mother found her in the solar the day before the ceremony standing on a stool while Alice tugged at the train of her overgown.

“This time I’m determined you shall conduct yourself as a right gentle lady,” Havisia said as Alice took up the front hem. The overgown was of emerald silk shot with gold thread while the undertunic was of violet. “I’ve been remiss in your education, Juliana, but you’re going to listen to me now, or you’ll drive your betrothed away before the priest can complete the ceremony.”

“I’ve done nothing to him!”

“You pushed him in a washtub. And don’t bother to deny it. I heard the tale from nearly everyone in Wellesbrooke. Now, the first thing you must remember is to be courteous and meek, for doing so earns the favor of God and man. Be gracious to everyone, both the small and the great.”

“I’m always gracious.”

“Don’t be absurd,” her mother said. “And don’t ever make yourself conspicuous. A difficult task for you, but you must try. You should walk becomingly, not stomp as is your custom. Look straight ahead with your gaze fixed on the ground ahead. Don’t change your look from one place to the other, nor laugh nor chatter with everyone along the path. Don’t talk too much or boast. And when you go to church, don’t trot or run, but salute graciously all you meet.”

Here Bertrade broke in. “But Mother, I think it more important that you warn her against scolding in public. And Juliana shouldn’t travel without a proper retinue, or she’ll get caught in compromising situations.”

At this Juliana turned red and threw up her hands. “Thunder of heaven!”

Once Alice was done, Juliana donned her old wool gown and took refuge from this latest barrage of advice in the herb chamber, but Havisia followed her.

“I knew there was something I forgot.”

Juliana sighed as she ground herbs with mortar and pestle. “That hardly seems possible.”

“I thought you were going to try to be a courteous and gentle lady, Juliana.”

“I can’t,” Juliana said. “It’s against my nature, Mother. You know that. It’s why you gave up trying to arrange my marriage. I can’t abide fools, and there are just too many fools in this world.”

“You must try, for your lord’s sake, or you’ll make him enemies.”

Juliana stopped grinding and looked at her mother. “I hadn’t thought of that. Hmmm. I’ll try.”

“Good, and there’s one more thing.”

“Only one? A miracle.”

Havisia gave her a stern glance. “You must remember always to consider your lord’s rank and fortune in your dress. By my troth, you’re going to disgrace him if you continue to wear these old, patched gowns with stains on them.”

“I wear them to work with herbs, Mother. Gray would rather I wore them than get my damasks and silks stained with the juice of flowers, berries, and roots.”

“Oh, I wanted to talk to you about your manners at table.”

Juliana dropped the pestle, which clattered into the
mortar. “Thunder of God, Mother! Leave off. I’m as I am, and Gray knows it. If he likes not what I am, he is more than man enough to say so, and he has my leave to withdraw from this betrothal.”

Havisia drew herself up with a sniff and went to the door.

“After you’re married you’ll thank me, daughter. Your husband is a great lord, and he’ll not appreciate being cursed with a scold and a drudge for a wife. Remember that, or you’ll find yourself inviting a beating before your marriage is a week old.”