The Lily and the Lion (42 page)

‘You have a fever and Aunt Matilda says she must seal your wound.'

His poor attempt at a reassuring smile caused an intense pain in my chest.

Bertram removed the last section of Simon's undershirt, lowering the half-naked body back onto the straw. Dumping a large pail in front of my knees, Bertram directed me to wash my guardian. The cold water, when applied to Simon's skin, made him jump and I pulled back with apprehension.

‘'Tis all right. I am not dying.'

His fingers grasped mine as I held the wet cloth and our eyes met. A single tear slid down my cheek.

‘Don't cry.'

‘I can't seem to help it.'

‘Come, assist me with the fire,' said Lady Matilda, noting my discomfort. ‘Once we have a good flame, I will heat the blade and cut away the putrid flesh. I will need your help then, my girl, regardless of how you feel about him.'

I cast my eyes down, for how did I feel?

‘By the grace of God, we will be able to break his fever tonight and have him on his feet tomorrow.'

‘What then?' I asked.

‘We must get you both back to the relative safety of Broughton as soon as possible.'

‘But Anaïs, where is she?'

‘Lady Elizabeth tells me that she is safely hidden in the house. She will not be brought down to the stables until we are about to leave. She has no idea that we are here.'

‘Did she succeed?' I asked.

‘Yes, I am afraid so,' replied Lady Matilda. She unpacked the items she needed from Simon's medicinal box that I had seen tied to her mount. ‘She arrived here two days ago and met with Moleyns. Elizabeth told me that he immediately rode to Salisbury with the news she imparted.' The flame was burning brightly now and crackled as each additional twig was added.

‘Moleyns will soon be on his way to Broughton Manor in search of you, as I had anticipated. So you see, my dear, that is why I could not leave you behind, with naught but Roderick and a few maids to fight him off.'

‘But your house, your servants?'

‘They will be fine. They will open the gates and let him search and, should they be questioned, they have sufficient documents and letters to show that you are currently on your way to Scotland.' She smiled then and I knew that I would never again underestimate our genteel aunt.

‘And Lady Elizabeth?' I asked.

‘She has been my companion for many a year.' I watched as she withdrew the short knife from Simon's box and turned it in the hottest part of the flames. Drawing back from the sparks I clenched my teeth, horrified at the ordeal that was to come.

‘Go, take Simon's hands,' she said, ‘and remember, you must be brave, for him and for me.'

I nodded and crawled back across the hay, grasping first his right hand and then his left.

‘Ah, the angel returneth,' he said tenderly, his eyes much brighter and his skin feeling considerably cooler.

‘Matilda has the knife,' I answered, watching for his reaction.

‘Then I will bear it. Catherine, in my box is a small jar of honey. Have Matilda spread a generous amount on the wound prior to sealing.'

With Bertram holding his legs and I his hands, Matilda approached Simon with the heated blade.

‘Scared?' he asked.

‘Terrified!'

‘Then best you don't look,' he advised.

‘Hush, bite on this.' I slid a strap of leather between his teeth.

Lifting the dressing, Lady Matilda thrust the hot blade and cut away a large section of his flesh. He cried out to me, dearest, much like a tortured animal and my gut twisted. Vivid images appeared before me, a memory long hidden by time.

Many years ago, as a child at the convent, I would spend hours with the cook, Madam Bellet, helping mostly in the herb garden. One of the maids laid traps to catch the rabbits, for Madam hated them so, as they munched through the beautiful leaves of the cabbages and lettuces. One morning I was awakened by a terrible screaming, the likes of which I had never heard, a retching sound so pitiful that I was roused into action.

On questioning the kitchen maids, I was told the dreadful noise was that of a rabbit, caught in one of the traps and enduring the agony of chewing off its own leg in order to escape. I could not stand watching the maids carry on with their duties with absolutely no care for the creature consumed with anguish just outside the window. So I took a rock and, finding the poor thing on the verge of exhaustion, I struck it hard with a single blow to its head.

Dearest, they laughed at me, at my pain for having killed it and then later when I refused to partake of it at the evening meal.

Simon, far stronger than the rabbit, failed to give in or fade away, hissing instead at each thrust. When at last I thought she had finished, she was but returning the knife to the fire, thus to heat it for the second round of torment. He lay with his eyes closed, his face white and lips ashen, yet all the while with my tiny hands in his, uncrushed. She was back quickly, spreading honey over the wound before placing the blade lengthways, searing the skin with the heat, the burning smell like nothing I could describe.

‘Is it done?' he whispered.

I nodded, unable to trust myself to speak.

‘Please, Cat, I need a drink,' he said, struggling to sit up.

I handed him the shirt and sought the jug of mead, passing a cup to Bertram, who with enormous effort had pulled Simon into a sitting position so his back rested against the wall.

Lady Matilda cleaned the knife and made her way out, her stance betraying her struggle. I followed her into the main stable and watched as she fell to her knees to vomit.

Finding a bucket, I filled it with clean water from the trough and enticed the good lady to wash her face and hands.

As I helped her to her feet she hugged me. ‘Thank you, Catherine,' she said, sitting on a bench along the wall. ‘You really are far braver and stronger than you think.'

I patted her hand, hoping to give some sort of comfort, at the same time shaking my head.

‘Simon means a great deal to me,' said Matilda. ‘I wanted you to know, so that when I ask you to take care of his heart you will try to be kind.'

‘How do you know Lord Wexford?'

‘I first met Simon when he was a boy, a very handsome one, but nonetheless a boy.' She held my hands in hers and turned to me. ‘I truly believed he was to be my intended and although other men came courting I turned them down.'

‘Does he know this?' I asked.

‘Oh, I do suppose so,' she replied. ‘I never gave up hope, even after he wed another, but it was not meant to be.'

‘But was your heart not broken?'

‘Ha!' scoffed Lady Elizabeth, who had silently appeared at the door. ‘You are so very young, Lady Holland. It is Lady Catherine Holland, is it not?'

‘Yes, it is,' our aunt replied. ‘Catherine, this is Elizabeth, the Countess of Salisbury.'

I rose and curtseyed, uncertain of my position.

‘No need for that,' she said. ‘You see, Matilda, the young do not know what it is like to love someone who does not love in return. Even you, my dear friend, love privately and from afar, whereas I must bear what has been forced upon me.' Waving her hand, she indicated her current surroundings. ‘How does Lord Wexford fare?'

‘It is too early to say but be assured I do not propose to leave him behind.'

‘No, I would not suggest you do, for Moleyns will be more than angry when he returns.'

‘What do you intend to do, for surely the suspicion will fall upon you?'

‘Yes, of course, but then one as stupid as I can easily be confused by a band of men who arrived here this very morning, brandishing swords and threatening my life.'

‘And Moleyns will accept that?' I asked.

‘He must, for he would not dare question me. My husband, however, is a different matter, but I do not expect to see him for some time.' She turned and moved back to the courtyard. ‘The sting of his whip will be no different, regardless of my actions.'

My shock was surely apparent as I walked towards her in the shadows. ‘That's right, Lady Holland, he treats his wives poorly.' She smiled smugly. ‘He tells me he had much practise on your mother, she failing to give him a child.'

I was speechless, for what must our dear mother have had to endure?

‘Men are not all the same. Some, like your Lord Wexford, lust for a woman's flesh, the mere touch encouraging their deepest desires.' She raised her hand to her skirt, lifting it slightly to shake the straw from its hem. ‘Others, like my husband, are aroused very differently, by cruelty, by pain, and their thirst can never be quenched.' The light from the doorway was shining directly onto her face and neck and I swallowed in horror at the sight of her deep, red scars. She grasped my chin in her hand, turning my face to hers. ‘If your mother were half as beautiful as you, then she certainly would have tormented William.' Twisting her fingers, she pinched my skin and pushed me from her. ‘Be gone before Moleyns returns! I cannot openly protect you.'

Matilda was quickly by my side, clasping my hand as we stood watching Lady Salisbury trudge back to the house. ‘'Tis sad, is it not? I feel for Elizabeth,' she said. ‘Just remember, Catherine, there must never be a time in your life when you should feel ashamed of the love that grows between a man and a woman. Unfortunately, any love that Salisbury felt was for his mother, and for her alone, a great sickness indeed.'

I knew Salisbury to be an evil man but this was far worse. No part of his soul appears redeemable and I pity the poor woman now married to such a depraved savage.

The twilight provided relief as autumn's chill seeped into the stable. Simon was sleeping, his skin cool beneath my touch. The other men were also resting but happy to receive news of our planned departure the following day. I covered my guardian's bare chest with my cloak, not only to protect him from the possibility of a chill, but also to prevent the constant flutters I felt at the sight of him.

I lay down between Simon and Lady Matilda but could not find rest. Examining the rafters, I wondered what you must have been doing and whether you and Gillet had reconciled. My guilt in the matter had not lessened but any disappointment I had felt concerning Simon's behaviour had been cut away as swiftly as the infection in his leg, washed clean by both his tears and mine.

‘Are you sleeping?' Simon asked.

‘No, but you should be.' Resting on my elbows, I could clearly see his face, the moonlight casting its glow through the open door. ‘I am sorry I was so very angry with you. I did not understand before.'

‘I want you to know something. I never act without thought.' His hand found mine and our fingers intertwined. ‘I have erred in the past, acted hastily, and now must live forever with regret. I do not wish to make that mistake again.'

‘Guilt is a wicked emotion but you are not a wicked man, Simon.'

‘But I am certainly no saint!' he scoffed. ‘There was a time when I was happy, truly happy, in a way that I could not have predicted.' Shifting his weight, he placed his free hand under his head and looked down at me. ‘My wife unexpectedly presented me with a son and his unconditional love captured my heart. I was blinded by my emotions and believed that his extended family felt the same. But I was wrong. They saw a threat, a demon, and plotted to rid themselves of the boy with the flaming red hair.'

I wanted him to stop. I did not want to hear what they had done to Rassaq but I could not find the courage to speak.

‘They tried to torture the evil spirit from his body but his mother intervened. They stabbed him to death and turned their knives on her.'

‘Oh my Lord!' Fighting to keep my tears at bay, I prayed aloud. ‘May God keep and bless the soul of such an innocent child and his devoted mother.'

‘Catherine, I cannot lose you. I cannot fail in my duty, for I would never know peace again.'

‘You won't fail, Simon, I know you won't.'

Lifting my hand, he pressed my fingers to his lips and I curled up beside him. He spoke of other things – faith, friendship and courage – and as the conversation slipped into companionable silence, we both drifted into asleep.