The Shattered Rose (37 page)

He grinned up at the ceiling. Aline of Burstock was a remarkable women in every way.

To his surprise, her regular breathing lulled him to sleep far sooner than he'd expected. And if he woke in the morning resting comfortably against her, her warmth and subtle perfume soothing his senses, at least nothing had happened in the night to violate his oath.

Chapter 18

The house was silent now, but faint sounds from the street and the light cutting through a gap in the wooden wall told him it was early morning. Time to attack a crucial day.

He put out a hand and shook Aline gently, nobly resisting the temptation to stoke along the curve of her side, hip, and thigh. He expected to have to be more vigorous, but with a grunt, her breathing changed and she sat up, blinking.

"Is it morning? Already?" She pushed strands of hair off her face and shook herself like a puppy climbing out of the water.

Then she looked at him and suddenly, devastatingly, colored from collar to hairline.

"Good morning," he said.

Her eyes darted around as if expecting to find something new and different in the plain cubicle. Then they settled on him again. "I went right to sleep."

He managed not to laugh. "You said you would."

"What did you do?"

"Eventually, I went to sleep too."

Her eyes did their nervous dance again. "So you didn't . . . ?"

He sat up and captured her face in his hands, turning her so she had to look at him. "Aline, when I make love to you, you will know all about it. And remember it. I promise you that."

She stared at him, pupils so huge as to almost make her blue eyes dark. "Truly?"

He was again tempted to laugh, or perhaps even to get angry, but he did neither. "Truly."

She pulled out of his hold, took a deep breath, and blew it out. "That's all right, then. I'm sorry. I suddenly thought, you see, that it might be impossible for a man to be so close to a woman in a bed for so long without his baser instincts taking over. Of course," she added with a sliding look, "I suppose it depends how much he wants to ... Could you let me out, please?"

With an exhale almost as noisy as hers, Raoul grabbed her shoulders, forced her down, and rolled on top of her.

"What—"

"Stop chattering. If you force your skittering mind down to the lower part of your body, you should be able to feel just how much I want to make love to you. If I'm going to be so painfully noble, I at least want the credit for it"

Her eyes were still beguilingly dark, and now her full lips parted softly, temptingly. "Oh."

This must surely, thought Raoul, be the most challenging, the most difficult thing he had ever done in his life. Despite his thundering heart and a proof of devotion that was beginning to protest urgently, he kept his voice calm. "I desire you, Aline. Very much. As soon as other matters are settled, we are going to talk about the future and see if there is a way we can be together. The tortures of the damned, however, would not push me into dishonoring you, especially without your consent, and without you waking up. Which, when I think about it, would be just about impossible."

"Oh," she said again. "I'm sorry. But I couldn't know for sure. . . ."

"I suppose not."

She licked her lips, which would have been wickedly cruel if she'd had any idea of how it affected him. "What constitutes dishonoring?"

"Aline!"

"I was just thinking that perhaps you could kiss me. . .."

"Just how strong do you think I am?"

"Infinitely." And she meant it, poor, deluded maid.

He pushed off her and rolled off the bed. "At the moment I feel as strong as Donata. Come on. Get up and let's get out of here. We have actions to take."

She scrambled off the bed, tidying her clothes and looking ridiculously deprived. He was very tempted to spank her, for he didn't believe she was nearly as innocent about all this as she pretended to be.

"What are we going to do, then?" she asked as she wound the blue cloth around her head again.

"I'm not going to get Jehanne out of the convent."

Her hands stopped. "What? Why not?"

The end of the cloth began to fall loose, so he caught it and tucked it in, glad of any excuse to touch her, despite the dangers.

"Since I didn't go instantly to sleep, I had time to think. It can't do any good to thwart the king in that way. On the other hand, I do believe that Jehanne has something of import to add
to
the hearing. I'm going to get into the convent so I can have private speech with her, then I'll convey her information, make her argument, or whatever is required."

She leveled her severe brows at him. "The penalties for invading a religious house are rather harsh. Are you sure . . . ?"

"I'm not sure of anything, but this is my best judgment. And how, exactly, did you expect me to get her out without violating a religious house? Now," he said, ushering her out of the room, "I saw the cloister. Tell me as much about the rest of the convent as you can."

As they made their way out of the house and into Cheap-side, she told him everything she knew.

"I can go in over the wall," he said, as they hurried along. "But noise might be a problem."

"I think you need to go in during chapel anyway so there'd be few people around." She glanced at the sky, judging the light. "You've missed prime. It will have to be terce, which is the time of the hearing."

"Christ's crown, that's too late." By the time they reached the lane behind the convent, they hadn't come up with a solution to that problem.

Raoul assessed the rough wooden wall. "Getting over that will be simple. I'll just have to hope that no one hears."

"Faint hope of that. Why don't I create a distraction?"

"What kind of distraction?" he asked. But by Christ's crown he loved the way she was his partner in this.

"If I turn up disheveled and incoherent, it will draw everyone's attention."

"And get you a whipping."

"And what will you get if you're caught invading a nunnery? Anyway, they probably won't punish me until I get my wits back. By then, I hope, we'll all be free."

So she, like Jehanne, was trying to save a man from trouble. There was no point in arguing about it here. "What will you tell them?"

"Nothing. I'll be completely mad." She twisted her mouth and rolled her eyes. "At least until after terce."

He had to laugh at the sight.
"Then
what will you tell them?"

"That the big city frightened my wits away? I hope by then it's all over."

Raoul shook his head, wishing she didn't sometimes seem so young. But he did need the distraction she could provide. "Very well. You escaped, thinking to contact Galeran and tell him of your predicament, but got lost and had to hide all night, terrified of beggars and bandits. Now you are desperate to return to the safety of the convent"

She looked around and stepped into a shadow between two houses, already unwinding her headcloth. She tore off the ribbons at the end of her already unraveling plaits and fingered them out. Raoul followed and gripped the shoulder of her kirtle to rip it a few inches so it sagged. He scooped up some dirt and rubbed it into the cloth and into her skin.

Proud that he'd not let any of his lewd thoughts show, he looked her over and nodded. "Ready?"

She smiled. "Ready."

"Brave girl." He kissed her lightly on the brow, then pushed her off down the lane toward the front of the convent.

In moments he heard the convent doorbell clang stridently. He counted to three, glanced around to be sure that no one was nearby, stepped back, then ran at the wall, leaping to grasp the top.

As soon as his fingers caught, he realized he had a problem. The wall was not very sturdy. For a moment it felt as if his pull might bring it down rather than him up. But it held, and he braced his hips against the top. A glance showed him nuns milling in the cloister gardens, and no one in the herb garden.

He swung over and dropped, ducking immediately into a corner behind a fragrant bush.

Wailing pinpointed Aline on the other side of the cloister, and a burst of exclamations and chatter implied a large gathering. Raoul hoped that soon the matter would be taken inside one of the buildings. It was going to be a little difficult to sneak close to Jehanne’s cell with the whole convent gathered in the cloister garden.

Then he realized that they might bring Aline into the infirmary. Time to get out of here. He followed the first part of their plan, slipping into the infirmarian's workroom, through the thankfully unused infirmary itself, toward the convent's chapel.

There was no way to know what was beyond the solid door, but he'd be surprised if the altar were left completely unattended. The door would probably open into the side of the altar so that the sick could see the Mass. He could only hope it was far enough away from anyone keeping vigil there.

He took a deep breath, eased down the latch, and pulled it open a finger-length.

Two nuns knelt in prayer in front of the altar, but their heads were bowed and the door was slightly behind them and in shadow. Raoul didn't think they would notice him unless he made a noise. Thanking God that the door itself was silent, he opened it wide enough to slip through, closed it, then moved quickly down against the chapel wall to the main doors at the end.

This, however, was already farther than Aline's knowledge could guide him, and he hadn't seen the chapel door from the cloister. He might open it and be in full view of the community. He didn't think so, for even if they were still in the garden, they should be at the far side, but there was no guarantee.

Raoul shrugged. It had always been his way to make the best plan possible, then carry it through without further fretting. He carefully opened the door far enough to look.

Ah. God be praised. The chapel entrance was guarded by a deep porch set upon stone pillars. The space between the pillars provided excellent concealment from most directions. Raoul went through the door, again closing it neatly behind him, and moved between two pillars to consider his next move.

This was undoubtedly the tricky part.

Leaning out, he saw a cluster of black and white through the flowering bushes. That must be the nuns around Aline.

Why, by Saint Sever, didn't they take her inside somewhere?

He waited, counting slowly, but nothing changed. Oh, well, their attention seemed so focused on Aline, he'd have to take his chances.

The porch opened into the cloister walk, which went around all four sides of the garden. The walk itself was deep, roofed, and fronted by pillared arches so that in the sunlight it was deeply shadowed. With luck, even if one of the nuns saw him, they'd see just a shadowy figure and assume him to be one of the community.

Raoul walked normally, therefore, as he left the porch, turned right, and headed toward Jehanne's room. He wasn't actually intending to go to her door, since it was too close to the nuns and would be locked. He had his eye open for a passage through to the back of the rooms. He could talk to Jehanne through the small window.

Unfortunately, he didn't find any passageway at all.

It didn't seem right to curse in a religious house, but he did it anyway, silently. He couldn't go any farther, or he'd be too close to the chattering, exclaiming nuns. There didn't seem a lot of point in going back.

There had to be a way to other parts of the convent, but it must be through one of the many doors.

Which door?

He was trying to decide, when Jehanne took a hand. She suddenly started calling, "Someone! What is going on? Is that Aline? What's happened?"

Then she thumped on her door. Hastily moving back toward the bend of the cloister, Raoul judged her alarm to be genuine, and quite reasonable. All she would be able to hear would be her cousin’s cries.

As Raoul watched, a figure emerged from the huddle. The mother superior stalked over to Jehanne's door, pulling a key out of a pouch on her belt. Opening the door, she snapped, "Compose yourself, Lady Jehanne. Your foolish cousin has returned, and appears unharmed though much distressed." She then slammed the door and marched back to her community. "Bring the girl into the chapter house. This is all most disorderly. A terrible disruption . . ."

But as her voice faded and the group flowed off into a building, a wild-haired, limp Aline in their midst, Raoul noticed that she really had been disrupted. She'd left the key in the lock. In moments the cloister was deserted and Raoul could slip down, turn the lock, and enter Jehanne's cell.

She was pacing, but she froze at his entrance, staring as if she couldn't believe her eyes.

Which was hardly surprising.

Then she gasped, "Oh, Sweet Mary be praised! It was all a ruse? Thank heavens." She was already heading for the door, but he grasped her shoulders to stop her.

She cried out.

He instantly let her go, watching as she panted, then controlled her breathing.

He didn't need to be told. "You've been beaten?"

She straightened as if nothing were the matter, and he thought she might refuse to answer. But then she grimaced. "Every three hours."

"Holy Father! By whose orders?"

"Bishop Flambard's."

It took him a moment to control his own feelings. "Why didn't you say anything? Galeran or I could have stopped this."

She was once more controlled and cool, however. Once more the Jehanne he had come to admire, and perhaps to fear.

"I didn't want it stopped."

"You take pleasure in pain?"

"Am I mad?"

"Why, then?" But he could guess.

"You know as well as I do that I deserve to be beaten. That the world will never be content until I am punished ..."

"And this way Galeran will not be forced to do it," he completed. She was right, and even though his instincts protested her acting against her husband's wishes, he admired her for her courage.

He still couldn't help wishing she were a less militant woman, though, and he didn't want to be around when Galeran heard about this.

"There's another advantage," she was saying, and she even smiled with satisfaction. "I don't think the king will be happy that the bishop has taken action before he has a chance to rule on the matter."