The Shattered Rose (16 page)

"No. But we all wonder when your rage will strike, and where."

Chapter 9

Galeran looked up. "Including you?"

Jehanne sat on a bench by the window as if her legs had given way. "I almost wish it would. That your rage would strike. I can't believe it won't. . . . The waiting is hardest."

He didn't tell her his rage had already broken out. "Then let that be your penance."

The child made a mewling sound, and her tiny mouth worked anxiously while she stared up at him. No matter what her origins, he couldn't hate such an innocent.

She had her mother's delicate skin, and he could believe, if he chose, that the golden fuzz on her head was her mother's heritage too. Perhaps it was a blessing that Jehanne and Lowick were of a similar type. Galeran would never have to search for the father's features in the child.

Then the baby screwed up her face and let out a sharper cry. Galeran jiggled her a little, but she squalled louder. Frustrated, he scowled at Jehanne. This might not be his child, but did the babe have to reject him so openly?

"She's still hungry," Jehanne said. "I was feeding her when I heard you had arrived."

"Then why didn't you say so?"

She didn't reply, but
because I was afraid
floated in the room, making his heart ache. When she learned of his berserker rage, she'd fear him even more.

With reason. As he passed the babe to her, he remembered his foolish youthful wish that Jehanne would fear him.

He could have wept.

She raised her tunic and he saw that her gown was slashed down the front to free her breasts. She put Donata close, and the babe grasped the nipple with her gums to suck lustily.

Just as the peasant child had.

Just as Gallot once had . . .

Galeran pushed back that thought. "Can you talk as you feed her?"

"Of course."

He put a foot on a chest and leaned on his raised knee. "When did the bishop's men arrive?"

"Yesterday, quite early." A tense pallor in her face was a memory of fear. "I suspected something, so I insisted that the men-at-arms stay outside the walls and permitted only the three monks to enter. Brother Forthred seemed taken aback to find that you weren't there." She flicked him a wary glance. "I think he assumed you would support his case."

"And let him take the child?"

She nodded, stroking her babe's hair in a protective gesture Galeran thought entirely unconscious.

"Jehanne, I took the cross and traveled to a war half a world away to give you a child. Do you really fear I will let one be torn from your arms?"

She looked up then, eyes wide, and glossed by unshed tears. "Truly? It would be—"

"Truly." After a moment he straightened. "You could look more delighted."

"I am, I am. But I see blood in it, Galeran."

He took to pacing the room, for he did too. "Because of the bishop's men? Tell me what happened."

She made an effort to compose herself. "Raymond has made confession to the bishop, who has decreed he should do penance for his sin. But the penance is that he raise the child he misconceived. They came to take her to him!"

Galeran stilled and nodded. "Cunning."

"I couldn't let them take her! I protested on any number of grounds, but Brother Forthred went on and on about sins and perdition. Then he promised damnation for all who abetted me. I was terrified that the people of Heywood might give him Donata just to stop his ranting!"

"So how did you escape?"

"I pretended to give in and went to get her. But I sent a message to Walter of Matlock. I ... I wasn't even sure he would support me against the Church, especially when you'd left orders I was not to leave the castle. But he did, thanks to Blessed Mary. He openly sent out a small group of men, saying they were to search for you and inform you of these matters. Then he accompanied me, Aline, and the babe out of the postern gate and down the road. Aline and I took two of their horses and we all rode here. Forthred will come after us, though. I've been racking my brain to think where we could go next." She stared at him. "Galeran, no one can oppose the Church! What are we to do?"

"This far north, it's amazing what a person can do."

"Not for long. And Flambard has the power of the Crown in his fist as well! Oh, I am weak in these matters! Too weak to do as I should."

A thousand sharp suspicions cut at him. "What do you mean?"

He thought she wouldn't answer, but then her eyes slid past him to rest on the wall. "When I found I was with child," she whispered, "I resolved to do away with it. I saw then what tangles it could weave around us. I ... even prepared the herbs." Her gaze skittered over him and down to her child. A tear fell to splash in the babe's hair. "I could not take them."

"It would have been a sin," he said gruffly. "Adding one sin to another cannot create good."

"But think what could have been. ..."

"You could have concealed your adultery, you mean?"

"No!" she protested, looking up. "I mean we could have avoided this bitter taste to your return. Not by concealing my stupidity, but by not having such public ignominy, and not having a child to confuse matters. I would have told you. I have never lied to you, Galeran, even by omission."

He was taken aback by that "Perhaps I would rather you lied to me about such a thing."

She frowned, clearly disapproving of such a weak thought, and he was tempted to laugh at the strange twists and turns of their relationship these days. Just then, however, the child fell asleep and slipped off the nipple. Jehanne rearranged her clothes and rose to pat the babe on the back. With a little bubbly burp, Donata smiled as if she had sweet dreams.

Ah, to be so innocent again.

He held out his arms. "I would like to hold her again."

She looked at him with a slight frown that reminded him of Aline. " Jehanne, if you even imply that I will hurt her, I will be grievously hurt."

She hastily put the child in his hands. "I implied nothing! It's just that she's wet."

Galeran realized that was true. Wet, and smelly as a dye yard. With a rueful smile he passed the babe back. "You can see that I'm a very inexperienced parent. Well have to stop reading the worst into each other's every act."

Flashing him a very startled look, she said, "That won't be hard for me."

She laid the baby on a cloth on the floor to change it He watched in fascination as she removed the wet clothes from the tiny body, marveling at the fragile yet perfect limbs. Donata didn't wake, and was soon dry again and wrapped in a secure bundle. Then Jehanne laid her in the cradle.

"I wonder often," she said softly, "why this happened to us. To you in particular . . ."

"If God had given us a child in the early years of our marriage, our lives would have been different. Perhaps it is God's will."

"Not at all," said Jehanne sharply. "It is all the result of my willfulness and pride, and it is I alone who should suffer for it"

"But not by giving up the child?" he asked dryly, taking a seat by the cradle. The tiny mite fascinated him.

Jehanne's hands flexed in a sudden, desperate movement. "If Brother Forthred had brought a wet nurse, even . . . Babes do not thrive on pap, Galeran!"

"So, if Brother Forthred had brought a wet nurse, you would have handed Donata over without protest?"

She turned away, and after a moment put her hands to her face. "No. No, I
wouldn't.
I try, Galeran, but I cannot be meek and mild!"

Galeran laughed. "Nor do I want you to be. But don't start lying to yourself, Jehanne. Since we are not willing to give Donata to the wolves, we had best put our minds to handling all our problems, hadn't we?"

The babe stirred, perhaps because of her mother's raised voice. Galeran put out a foot and rocked the cradle, and in a moment Donata settled back to sleep.

Jehanne had turned and was staring at him as if he were a puzzle. "How can you just accept her? How can you just accept everything?"

He met her eyes. "How can I not? Do you want to be whipped? Locked away? Burned at the stake? Do you want me to throttle this child . . . ?" He bit off the increasingly violent words. "Don't, Jehanne. Don't push me. Let's handle the simple problems first. Was Lowick with the monks?"

"No," she said, distinctly pale. "Didn't you speak to Forthred at all?"

"No."

"Had he left?"

"I don't know. I never returned to Heywood. I heard you had come this way and followed."

She looked him over as if seeing him for the first time. "Why are you so bloody?"

There was no place in this for lies. "Someone tried to kill me."

She sat on a bench with a thump.
"What? "

"Yesterday. On the road between Heywood and Burstock, when you appeared to be fleeing me,"

"What?"

Galeran's heart eased. Jehanne was clever, but she was not capable of faking such deep confusion.

"Do you mean
you
were the horsemen pursuing us?" she asked. "I thought it was the bishop's men!"

"Pity you didn't have anyone with Raoul's sharp sight."

"It wouldn't have mattered. We weren't about to stop and study matters. We just rode here as fast as the horses could bear. But," she asked painfully, "what is this about someone trying to kill you?"

The action of rocking the babe was strangely soothing. "There was a man on the road with two crossbows and the plain intent to kill me."

She paled. Distinctly, she paled. "Sweet Savior! Where is he now?"

"Under the earth."

"Praise be!" Then she frowned again. "It might have been better, though, to preserve him for questioning."

"I wasn't thinking very clearly. But if we knew who was behind it, it might carry us into deep water."

"Raymond," she whispered.

"I can't imagine who else wants me dead."

"Sweet Mary, help us. I can hardly believe it! He is not a bad man." Something of Galeran's feelings must have shown on his face, for she added, "He isn't, Galeran. You must know that."

"He tried to have me killed, Jehanne."

She closed her eyes. "Desperate," she sighed "He isn't a saint, either." Then she studied him again. "Was there only one man? You seem to be wearing a great deal of blood."

"There's a great deal of blood in a man." A lightning-flash vision of blood pouring through the streets of Jerusalem made him shudder, and then he saw blood on the babe's white blanket.

After a heart-stopping moment, he realized it had merely rubbed off his gory mail when he'd held her. He rose, suddenly aware of his own stench. "My rage broke free, Jehanne. I didn't just kill the man, I butchered him. Walk carefully around me. Please."

* * * * *

Outside in the hall, Raoul saw Aline leave the room, then turn to study the closed door. He could not see her face, but her whole body expressed concern. Her short, compact, well-rounded body was extremely expressive.

He suspected it would be expressive in bed. . . .

How strange to think that way about the little nun.

He strolled over to her. "Lady Aline. You are troubled?"

She swung sharply. "There are matters enough to trouble anyone who has a mind above base pleasures." Her eyes flicked down to his crotch, and then she turned pink.

Raoul began to think the Lady Aline was mistaken in her vocation to a life of chastity. "Are there? Perhaps you could sit on this bench and explain these matters to me."

She stepped back. "Do you take me for a fool, sir? You know perfectly well what is going on."

She would have walked past him, but he caught her wrist. The way she froze, the way her color deepened told him she was rarely touched by men. It intrigued him. She tried to snatch her hand away, but he had her shackled just tightly enough to prevent it.

"Sirrah!"

"I do not know what is going on, Lady Aline, and I think I should."

She looked him in the eye searchingly, clear-headed despite her fluster. "How can you not?"

"Because for three days we've ridden around the estate and received no messages. And before we could return to Heywood we were told that Lady Jehanne had come here, so we followed. Your father seems to have told Galeran some interesting things, but since they spoke quietly, I am left in ignorance. Pity me."

Judging his moment, he released her. She pulled her hand close to her body and rubbed her wrist even though he knew he had not hurt her.

"Very well." She walked briskly over to a bench, her firm, purposeful step having the unaccountable effect of making Raoul want to kiss her into limp dazedness.

He shook his head and sat beside her, but not too close. He had not lived to the ripe age of twenty-eight by seducing virgins in their father's houses.

"So," he said, "what caused the Lady Jehanne to flee here?"

Aline's pretty face turned sober and her gaze direct. "Raymond of Lowick, may God rot him in interesting places, has decided on a new line of attack. He’s made devout confession to the bishop and accepted penance. Seeing what turmoil his ungoverned lust has caused—I quote almost verbatim from the unctuous Brother Forthred, you understand—Raymond is resolved to ease the situation by taking upon himself the burden of raising the unfortunate product of his liaison."

Raoul leaned back against the wall behind and whistled. "Clever. His own plan, do you think?"

"I don't know. He's not totally stupid, but I'm not sure he would think of such a circuitous route to his goal. Perhaps the bishop . . . Though how it would serve Bishop Flambard, I can't tell."

"Ah, yes, Galeran mentioned this Bishop Flambard. The Church dearly loves to have men in its pocket, and I gather Galeran's father is a thorn in the flaming bishop's side. What sort of man is he?"

Though Aline's hair was almost as blond as her cousin's, her brows were darker and inclined to make a severe line. When she frowned, as now, they were formidable. "No one even knows where he came from, but he served the Conqueror and now holds the highest position under William Rums. His chief talent is squeezing money for the king and himself. His name is virtually a curse with layman and churchman, for he spares neither."