The Shattered Rose (28 page)

Lucas was not a stupid man, and a twitch of a grin marked his understanding. "Ah. It would indeed, my lord. No one could argue with the hand of God, could they?"

"Exactly." Flambard waved a hand and the man bowed out.

Much more elegant. Much less dangerous now that it was sure that Lowick would win. The only lack in the plan was that the Lady Jehanne might not suffer enough for thwarting him. Flambard resolved to try to do something about that. It was his right, as a representative of the Church, to ordain punishment.

He had been laggardly in his progress to London, but tomorrow he would make better speed. He didn't want to miss the moment of triumph.

* * * * *

The next day the Brome party moved on south. After the ominous affair of the message, everyone wanted to make all possible speed to London. The weather was ideal for traveling—warm but not hot, and with a light breeze—but they were all on edge.

Jehanne was untypically nervous, and the baby still fretted, seeming to break only to catch breath before wailing again. The women passed Donata between them as they rode, but though each change seemed to soothe her for a little while, the peace didn't last.

They'd scarce gone a mile before Galeran decided that a baby's cry was the most wearing noise in creation.

When he rode back to ask if Donata was all right, Jehanne snapped at him. "She's hungry, but she won't eat. Perhaps she has the gripe. I'm bursting with milk and she won't take enough. I've been up most of the night because she won't sleep, and so have all the other ladies. Dame Marjorie must be delighted to see us leave!"

He could almost laugh to see Jehanne in such a state. "Perhaps a strange hand will soothe her. Give her to Raoul to carry for a while."

"Raoul? What does he know of babes?"

"He seems to have a rare ability to charm females." He called to his friend, who cantered up.

Raoul took the baby into his large hands without hesitation, cradling her neatly against his mail chest. Donata hiccuped and went silent, staring up at him wide-eyed.

"It won't last," Jehanne predicted, almost peevishly.

But it did.

With a sigh of relief Galeran turned his horse to ride the line, checking on the order of everything.

A half hour later he returned to the center where the women and pack horses were grouped, and found Donata fast asleep in the crook of his friend's right arm.

"How do you do it?" he asked.

"It's a magic gift," said Raoul with a grin. "But I think I should pass her on. If I hold her much longer in my arm like this, I might be stiff if I need to fight." He kneed his horse over toward the women. Galeran noted with a sigh that he stopped by Aline, not Jehanne.

* * * * *

"Do you think you could extract this infant from my arm without waking her, Lady Aline?"

Aline looked at him warily. She had tried not to react to his taunt that she was a green cadet, but it was true and she knew it. She suspected that if he turned his full strength and armory upon her, she would be as helpless as if they fought with swords.

That didn't mean, however, that she was going to hide behind her walls and offer no challenge at all.

"Is a tiny babe too heavy for you?" she asked, halting her horse next to his enormous beast.

"A great burden indeed." His eyes crinkled with laughter. "She certainly has mighty lungs. I'm rather anxious not to wake her."

He twisted down and she reached up, and they managed the transfer without waking Donata, though the baby stirred and her lips began to work. "If she is of a mind to eat, Jehanne will be glad of it." Aline then looked up at Raoul. "Just think. A life in a convent spares a woman from the tyranny of these little monsters."

"So it does. And I'm sure you have no desire to hold a babe of your own in your arms."

Typically, he'd scored a neat hit. As a last child, she had not been close to a baby before entering St. Radegund's. Since going as companion to Jehanne, she'd seen the births of Gallot and Donata and held them both through good times and bad. Held one of them dead. She didn't have any rosy illusions about the perfection of babies, but she wanted one. Indeed she did.

"What of you?" she asked as they moved forward to keep up with the party. "Do you want a babe of your own?"

"The idea of filling you with a babe of mine is certainly tempting."

Only he would dare say such a thing! "My family would make you marry me."

"I'd rather marry you before the event, Aline."

With that, he cantered away.

As if triggered by his absence, Donata's face screwed up ready to wail. "Oh, don't be such a silly little female," Aline snapped. "He loves to tease, that one. He loves to conquer. But he has no lasting interest. As soon as the castle is his, he'll be off to the next one. Next time he takes you in his arms, Donata, you are to scream as you've never screamed before."

Donata opened her mouth, then shut it again, amusingly, as if she gaped at the mere notion.

Aline maneuvered over to Jehanne. "She might be ready to feed if you want to try."

Jehanne took the baby and tucked her under her cloak, giving her access to a breast. In moments it was clear that Donata was feeding steadily for the first time in days. Jehanne gave almost a shiver of relief, and after a little while switched the hungry child to the other side. "Thanks be," she said.

Aline scowled at Raoul de Jouray's back. "Brilliance is not an attractive trait."

Jehanne shook her head. "Aline, I can only warn you in plain language. You are well on the way to being conquered. I have no way of knowing if that is what you want or not, but you should know what is happening. To me, you do not appear to be a castellan holding a fortress. You seem more like a foolish lady who lets a troop of armed men in her castle merely because they smile and profess good intentions."

Aline sighed. "If only I knew if he truly wants to conquer me."

"What else?"

"Perhaps when I open the gate, he'll simply ride away laughing."

Jehanne's look was understanding. "If you suspect that, you should be doubly on your guard."

"But wouldn't that be virtuous of him, not to take advantage of the foolish lady?"

"It would be virtuous of him to leave the foolish lady alone."

Aline huffed out a breath. "It's amazingly difficult to decide what is right and what is wrong!"

"No, it isn't," said Jehanne, switching the baby yet again. "The right thing would be to put the matter to your father and abide by his decision."

"But my father isn't here."

"Then behave yourself until you are back in his domain."

A month or more of tender assaults. "Surely you and Galeran are his deputies here."

"Oh, no," said Jehanne with a wry smile. "We have enough burdens. You might try Lord William if you need mature advice."

Aline knew Jehanne thought she wouldn't take her up on that suggestion. Just to be contrary, she said, "Why not?" and turned to ride back to Galeran's father.

Solid as a rock in his richly decorated saddle, fine-woven cloak spread over his horse's hindquarters, Lord William looked exactly what he was—a mighty baron and a shrewd man. Aline thought perhaps this wasn't the best idea, but she wouldn't back down.

"Good day to you, Lady Aline," he said. "How are you liking our journey thus far?"

She placed her horse neatly beside his. "It has its pleasures and its pains, my lord."

"Most journeys do." But he had a twinkle in his eye that suggested he understood some of her particular pleasures and pains.

Was it so obvious to everyone?

She plowed on. "Lord William, Jehanne suggested that I speak with you on a personal matter."

"Indeed. Well, I am the leader here."

"And my father is far away." Aline stared fixedly between her horse's ears. "I am wondering if you would recommend Raoul de Jouray as a husband." Then she looked to see his reaction.

Shrewd brown eyes studied her. "For whom, Lady Aline?"

"For any lady."

"Too loose a question by far. Surely in God's wide world there is a maid for every man, and a man for every maid."

Aline wrinkled her nose at him. "For me, then."

"Ah, well. It would depend upon his property—if he has any other than his horse and sword—and the amount you can bring to a union."

"Property? Dowry? Is that all that matters?"

"Not at all. But until that's settled, there's no point in going on to other concerns."

"Very well." Aline steadied her nerves and cantered forward to come up with Raoul.

"Yes, little one?" he said from the lofty height of his horse.

"It's not my fault that my horse is a full two hands shorter than yours!"

"It's not your fault that you are a full two hands shorter than me. It's just a fact. Did you ride up here simply to argue size with me?"

"No. You mentioned marriage. I think it's time to straighten out some details."

He eyed her sideways. "My mention of marriage was rather hypothetical."

"So is my question about details."

"Very well."

"Do you have any property other than your horse and sword?"

"Yes. Do you have any property to bring to a marriage?"

"Yes. What property do you have?"

"Land near my father's home in Guyenne. And you?"

"The rents from an estate in Yorkshire. How much is your land worth?"

"Perhaps fifty marks a year. And yours?"

"About half that."

"Adequate, then." The teasing humor in his eye almost made her want to smile at him, but she resisted and rode back to Lord William.

The older man raised his brows. "You're going to tire out your horse, Lady Aline, making him do a double journey."

Aline ignored that. "He has an estate in France worth twice my dower property."

"It would have to be looked into, for it's too easy for a foreigner to lie about such things, but if true, he is a suitable husband for you."

"But there has to be more to it than money."

"Of course. There's temperament. A house full of disagreements and misunderstanding becomes tedious after a decade or two."

Aline looked forward at Raoul's broad back. "I don't think that would be a problem."

"Even if he has a wandering eye?"

Aline frowned at Lord William. "It's not so much the eye that bothers me."

His eyes still twinkled, but he said seriously, "There are some women who don't care a great deal if their husband eases himself elsewhere, as long as no insult is offered them in their own house. There are others who are deeply hurt, and perhaps driven to strike back in some way. Temperament, you see."

And Aline did see. She'd always thought of herself as a calm, easy-natured person, but she wasn't at all sure she could be calm if her husbands—if Raoul—eased himself elsewhere. "Thank you, Lord William. I'll think on it."

She rode back to Jehanne's side, only too aware that there had been no mention of a third possibility—that Raoul de Jouray be a faithful husband.

* * * * *

Galeran was aware of the strange maneuverings between Raoul and Aline in the next days, but he put them out of his mind. He trusted his friend to marry Aline if necessary, and there were more important matters to be dealt with.

As they neared London, the heavy traffic toward the city spoke of excitement and acceptance of the new king. The closer they got, however, the more uneasy Lord William became.

Speaking quietly as they rode into Waltham, Galeran's father said, "Once we take our oath to Henry, it is settled."

"Henry will make a better king than Robert."

"Not if he's cursed. I let my dislike of Bishop Flambard and my concern for you push me into supporting Henry, but I'm not sure it's right, lad."

Galeran looked at his father. "You can't go to Westminster and not swear to Henry."

"I know, I know. In fact, I feel a terrible pain coming on____"

And by the time they stopped at the abbey for the night, he was groaning and swaying in the saddle.

Once he was settled and being treated by the monks, Jehanne came over to Galeran. "Is he really sick?"

"With any luck he will be after taking those medicines." Galeran flipped open a satchel with considerable irritation. He looked up at Jehanne and saw she already guessed the truth.

Having checked that no one was close by, he said, "He's never been easy about Rufus's death. It was Flambard's interference in our affairs that pushed him into supporting Henry, then he stuck with it to aid us. Now, however, his conscience balks. His opinion—and he could be right—is that no enterprise built on murder can succeed."

"No enterprise supported by Bishop Flambard can be worthy!"

"I feel the same way, but it's not logical. Good and bad men often end up on the same side."

"What will it mean to us if your father stays here?"

"As long as he doesn't openly support Robert's claim, it could be all right. Henry will have to try to woo him. I hope."

"We will go ahead, then, without Lord William?"

"Of course. We need this settled, and these early days are probably best. I suspect Henry is promising anything to anyone to gain support."

She let out an exasperated breath. ""Your father is right. There should be more to this than expediency. If it weren't for me, you would both have a freer choice."

He touched her cheek. "Jehanne, I have forgiven you. It would be pleasant if you could forgive yourself."

She closed her eyes, clearly close to exhaustion, but of the spirit more than the body. "It's not so easy. Just think how it could have been. . . ."

He ached with the need to heal all her hurts, but he could do nothing more than he was doing. "Not so very different, love, especially as far as the question of who should be king goes. I know Robert, and I don't want him as king of England no matter who fired that cursed arrow." He put an arm around her, to support and guide. "Come on. We'd best go and find Aline and Raoul before they get up to mischief."

The abbey was crowded with travelers heading to London, however, so there was little danger of Raoul and Aline finding privacy even if they wanted to. In fact, they were on a low cloister wall making music on cheap reed pipes.