The Troubadour's Romance (2 page)

“
Nay, Madame,
”
Ve
ronique replied softly.
“
For I am full upon it
--
it grows and moves within me
--
yet... I hunger still. And, I fear, I always shall.
”

It was greatly to Ve
ronique
’
s advantage that the queen could not forfeit her own oath and beg the attentions of her knights. Nor could Eleanor afford to display her affections openly, since adultery for a queen was high treason and punishable by death. But she was intensely romantic, albeit vicariously. She and her courtiers speculated endlessly on the truest form of love. It was as much an occupation of hers as any other thing she did.

So while this handmaiden of the queen was not coddled, neither was she turned away and sheared. Her rooms were well tended and richly appointed. A midwife was called and servants were installed. The birthing was long and tirin
g, but Ve
ronique delivered a daughter marked by the same reddish-gold locks and white skin as her own.

And now, on the third day of the child
’
s life, Eleanor was going to grace this bower with her presence.
Veronique
was both joyful and frightened.

Eleanor had lived two score and four years, yet she was stately and beautiful and adored by men across the land. Her spine was straight and her posture mighty. If her
present condition was any clue, old age would never tres
pass where her strong will reigned. As
Veronique
watched her approach the bed, her eyes lit up with admiration, as always when in the presence of Her Majesty.

Eleanor drew back the bed curtains and looked down at the suckling infant.
“
She nurses well?
”

“
Aye, Madame. She is slight but strong.
”

“
What will you do with her now,
Veronique
?
”

“
I am at your mercy. Your Majesty. I beg counsel.
”

“
Let me raise the child,
”
Eleanor said suddenly.

Veronique
looked sharply at the woman.
“
But Madame, you have so many ...
”

“
Not at my bosom, ma chere. There is naught I can do for you, but this one can reside within my protection, unsullied by her dire beginnings. There are those who would keep her close to me and do my bidding. You must tell me: is she French or English?
”

Veronique
paused briefly before answering, then finally, knowing it would do little good to lie, gave the truth.
“
She is half of this English kingdom, Madame.
”

“
Will you name him that he might meet his due?
”
she asked.

“
Nay, Madame, I cannot.
‘
Tis my due that must be met.
”

“
You will not cease in this self-abuse? Where is your pride? You have this royal support in bringing the cur to heel, yet you deny yourself and throw your pitiful state on my mercy.
”

Tears glistened in
Veronique
’
s eyes and she looked with envy to Eleanor. She had wished many times that she could possess that fire and zeal, that ambition a
nd instinct for survival. But ti
me upon time she came up against her shy and lonely feelings and a weakness of spirit.

“
Madame,
”
she said tearfully,
“
of pride I am stripped bare by my deed. And, God forgive me, I would have your mercy before I would take his forced love.
‘
Tis my shame that I cannot have him if he would not willingly come to me.
”

In this Eleanor saw a paradox, for it was pride itself that forbade
Veronique
from asking the queen to force the man into wedlock. Eleanor had a high degree of respect for any woman with a proud and strong disposition. Despite the
circumstances, Eleanor
’
s romantic heart swelled.
“
And do you love him still?
”
she asked.

“
I cannot do otherwise,
”
Veronique
murmured.
“
Though he slays me with his absence and does not look to carry this burden with me, no hand but his ever touched me. And in that touch, though fleeting, there was sinful joy. Yea, Ma
dame, I go alone for want of him.
”

“
Then you are paupered, for all I can give you now is shelter and civil retirement. You may nurse the child for a few months that she might remember a mother
’
s tender
ness, then I will have her placed in a noble English home close to me. Betimes I will carry her with my court that she might learn gentle manners, and your dowry will become hers. Fontevrault will be your home. The good sisters are charitable and generous; they will be more so with a word from me. I think mayhap you will in time join the sisters, for this life of the unmarried mother does not suit anything I have known of you.
”

Eleanor paused, sensi
ng some relief coming into Vero
nique
’
s expression. She sighed and continued.

“
I grieve that you have brought me to this,
Veronique
. Through all the years of pleasure you have given me, I did not think you would leave me in disgrace.
”

“
I beg pardon, Your Majesty. In time we may yet heal, though I shall not be near you. And though she will have no memory of my touch or voice, I pray some gentle words and moments will give her a stronger beginning than was mine. My mother died birthing me, and I knew no touch save the wolf who left me this prize.
”

“
S
urely there was a servant who ..
.
”

V
eronique shrugged.
“
The seneschal
’
s wife nursed many children, and my father tossed one more upon the teetering pile. Nay, there was no loving touch. Mayhap that is the reason I fell prey to it. I would this maid knows more of love than I. Then when love
’
s first touch comes, it will not burn, but rather, glow.
”

Eleanor
’
s eyes held pity for the first time.
“
Have you named her?
”

“
I would leave that to you, Madame, for I yielded her the moment you entered this room.
”

Eleanor
’
s smile was gentler than it had been in some time.

“
You yielded all, demoiselle. Give her something more than your brief touch. Give her the name she will carry.
”

“
Felise
,
”
V
eronique breathed, tears coming to her eyes. She knew in this instant that Eleanor had given her the single thread of hope that she might see her daughter again one day. She would now have a name to seek.
“
And the name of her g
randfather yet she will bear. Fel
ise de Raissa.
”

The queen gave
Veronique
’
s hand a soft squeeze and rose to leave her. Once she was gone,
Veronique
rested back in the pillows and took pleasure in the child
’
s feeding, stroking the babe
’
s tiny head and smiling a contented smile.

“
I do not leave you lightly, fair
Felise
, but, because you are all that I love, I give you over to the strongest to raise. Be not timid as your mother, nor shrinking and mild. And though I give no name for your sire, you are not without a proud and strong father. Yea, I love him even so. In time he will know full well that his seed brought life, for he will venture to these castle walls again, and you will be ever near the queen. Many years cannot fade but that he asks whose child you might be.

“
I am better placed in a convent, ma petite,
”
she whis
pered.
“
I was never skilled in wifely matters, nor in occupa
tions of men. In all these years beside my queen, I have served with and for women only. But I will not take the veil, my darling child, until I have seen that you prosper.
”
She kissed the tiny reddish head.
“
We shall be one in spirit, until then.
”

One

The sound of clattering hooves and the loud bellowing of an angered citizen disrupted the quiet afternoon.
Felise
had let her eyes drift slightly closed as her maid, Daria, brushed her hair. The long, fiery tresses reached nearly to her knees, and when she was seated, they were wont to drag in the rushes. Upon the sound of the street noise,
Felise
bolted to her feet and dashed to the second-floor window.

This London was alive with happenings, so varied were the sounds, sights, and smells. She had come with her family to wait upon King Henry
’
s pleasure over the Christ
mas festival and perhaps even visit with the queen.
Felise
, at the age of eight and ten, had been mostly in the keep of her adoptive parents, traveling abroad only a little, and on this visit to London her spirits were wildly stimulated.

She leaned dangerously out the window to see what was causing the commotion and found a group of a dozen knights crowded together, their destriers
’
thick flanks brushing up against the walls of the buildings and one another in the narrow street, and the smashed cart full of breads that a merchant had been pulling. The cause of the chaos was obvious. The group of horsed men could not pass the merchant without doing at least a small amount of
damage. Some clumsy beast did worse than jar the squat merchant; by the looks of the scene, the wheel was off the cart and the breads were well scattered, and nearly turned back into dough by the monstrous hooves.

His bald head red with fury, fists clenched and voice strangled with rage, the little man bounced on his toes as he berated the knights.
“
Bumble-headed fools! Clumsy idiots! Look beneath the feet of your donkeys to my baked goods!
”

Some men within the group chuckled at the sight of the distraught man, while others sought to placate him.
“
The wheel can easily be returned to the cart,
”
one knight said.

“
Minus a few loaves that can be replaced,
”
attempted another.

“
You foolhardy jackass,
”
the man stormed at the knight.
“
‘
Twas for Windsor I carried these breads and cakes. These streets are for people, not armies.
”

Felise
giggled brightly from her window. Every hour that passed she found some new amusement or delight in this city. Ofttimes an event below her very bedchamber could intrigue her, for many were the people passing there, from merchants and soldiers to harlots and jugglers. People were always hawking wares, predictions, entertainments, or sa
vory foods. Or beyond, when she ventured out, there was some new corner of the city that held an exciting pastime, entertainment, or fair.

Daria grabbed her mistress from behind, hooking her lean fingers into
Felise
’
s gown.
“
Get thee within,
”
she demanded hotly.
“
Come now, before you cause a stir among them.
”

That worry was far from
Felise
’
s thoughts. She was out of the reach of these men and watched them in childlike wonder. She knew each of Lord Scelfton
’
s men-at-arms, many of whom were with them in London, and every squire and servant at Twyford keep. These were all new faces; she had never seen the gathering of so many varied groups of knights before. She reached a hand behind her inside the window and motioned Daria to be still.

Even though
Felise
had just celebrated her eighteenth birthday and by custom was tardy in marrying, she was much the child in her own home and gave no consideration
to how these restless knights might view her. She wore a thick velvet gown of deep rose that was lined about the low neckline with miniver. Her sleeves, snugly fitted to her arms, gave her a slender appearance, though full breasts rose provocatively from a pinched bodice. She leaned fully out the window, her elbows resting on the sill. Her hair fell down over her shoulders, its great length of shimmering golden fire cascading out the window.

Felise
had never been given cause to be either overly modest or vain about her fair looks. Her mother, although not her natural mother, was humble and gentle and did not boast of her own beauty or
Felise
’
s. The sons of the Scelfton household did not dote upon her at all, for they were all older and much about men
’
s diversions. While
Felise
was not of the same blood as they, she was raised as their sister and therefore no dallying between them would have been allowed. And finally, her adoptive father, Lord Scelfton, took such parental guardianship of her that no knight or yeoman in his demesne would dare look at her with lust, or his neck might be stretched from the nearest oak. She was raised as free as a peacock. Free to roam, ride, play, and tempt fate. There was naught to stay her. She neither revered nor feared men.

Two knights dismounted and began to struggle with the wheel of the cart, its bearer continuing to curse them. There was a shuffling about as the leader of their group, well ahead of the riders, tried to squeeze his horse closer to the trouble. This was difficult for
--
the round little man was right
--
the streets were not wide enough for armies.

“
Demoiselle,
”
one of the young knights called to her. She looked down and waved, a smile on her lips. He edged his horse nearer, an awkward chore that caused her to laugh the more.
“
Dare I hope you are prisoner here and in need of rescue?
”

She laughed gaily at his play. Her father had hosted tourneys among his neighbors, and the courtly sport of knights and lords among the ladies was not alien to her.
“
Never that, sir knight, unless you would consider my father
’
s close guard a prison, for he would smite a fair space between your ears should you help me from this perch.
”

“
Ah, but does no one threaten you? I would take him to task, kill him, and lay him at your feet, and your father would gift me with your hand.
”

She laughed again, giving her head a toss that sent ripples through her hair and lit her turquoise eyes with a wicked light. She knew these games well and played them easily. To her credit, she was bright and full of wit, finding good sport in every circumstance. She feigned thoughtfulness.
“
Three older brothers oft plague me. They are knights of Henry and, far too strong for me to best. Would you hold them at a distance, kind sir, that I might flee with you?
”

The young man, pretty of looks and large of build in his own right, gulped hard as laughter rose among his fellows.
“
What cruel jibes you hurl, madam, to taunt me with a father and three brothers that would keep me from you.
”
He turned toward his group.
“
Who has a gift I might give the lady to show my earnest?
”

Fe
lise clapped her hands together in delight
.
One of the knights helping the merchant tossed a glazed loaf to a horsed knight who tossed it to her suitor. He looked up at her, smiling, pressed his lips fondly to the bread, then tossed it to her. She caught it easily and some of the men cheered.

“
What, sir knight? Am I to treasure this meager loaf as your honest proposal? Would you have me hold it close to my bosom and cherish it, or am I to devour it quickly? I am accustomed to richer gifts.
”

“
But I am a poor knight,
”
he ar
gued.
“
Richer for having looked on your beauty.
”

“
Bed the wench another time,
”
a voice cracked above the chatter.
“
The day is late and we are without means to find a meal and rest until this man
’
s loss is satisfied.
”

Fel
ise
’
s countenance jerked from the playful young knight to the leader of their troop. He sat
taller in his saddle than
the others and there was a stern set to his mouth. He seemed more impatient by this trifling than angry, but it was clear he was done with foolery and ready to move past the insulted merchant.

“
Sir Royce,
”
the young knight beseeched,
“
I can neither move my mount toward the trouble to give assist, nor get us to yon inn with haste. In this brief time I am blinded by beauty and cannot move.
”

There were chuckles again from the group as Sir Royce lifted his eyes to look at
Felise
. She could see they were a deep and hardened brown even from her distance. His brown brows were bushy and thick and drawn together as he studied her at his leisure. Her playfulness seemed to wane as she stared at him. His shoulders were broad, his face was square, and the hands that held the reins were large and tan. Thick brown hair fell over his brow. Slowly he formed a smile that seemed almost sarcastic, and
Felise
pulled ever so slightly back into her room.

“
Maiden, will you come without and cure this man
’
s blindness with your kiss, or shall we heft him through your window?
”

F
elise felt now the object of rather than a participant in the joviality. A blush began to creep onto her cheeks. There was something vaguely different about this man
’
s teasing. Unlike his companion, he was a man fully grown and knowledgeable of women. There seemed at least a grain of seriousness in his voice, and her stomach jumped.

“
Mayhap you have need of a more determined lover,
”
Sir Royce shouted.
“
This lad is pretty, but he knows little of women
’
s pleasures. I would not be the rogue to deny you assist.
”

There was the sound of one low whistle
at his blatant proposition. Fel
ise looked to her young suitor to see his reaction to the insult. She found that his eyes were not angry but indeed full of mirth. But the game had lost its flavor for her. She felt slightly vulnerable for the first time, yet all that Sir Royce could touch her with were his eyes.

“
The hint of youth beckons me where too many nights of sleeping with the horses would only cool my passion,
”
she flung back at him. She raised a finely arched brow and forced a half-smile that might equal his in sarcasm.
“
Per
haps you are too old and battle-worn to interest me.
”

The laughter of the knights at seeing their leader so chastened by the maid was like thunder in the street below. All joined in the mirth, including Sir Royce. He threw back his head in good cheer and seemed pleased by her flippant wit.

“
Saucy wench,
”
he shouted, when the laughter had calmed,
“
come hither that I might show you how old lips do
tempt.
”
He threw his arms wide.
“
I swear,
I will hold myself from your richer treasures until you beg me for more.
”

Felise
was about to retort with another careless remark, but her mother
’
s voice from the doorway below caught her tongue before it would be loosed.
“
Sir knight, do you have some case with my daughter, or do you simply enjoy this banter?
”

Fel
ise withdrew the more, wondering if she would be chastised for this play or if these knights might be taken to task.
“
My lady.
”
Sir Royce half-bowed from his saddle.
“
The demoiselle distracts my men. Come see how tempting a parcel we sight from the window. I think it most unfair to censure these men; we are where we should be but the maiden is out of place, I think.
”

“
I need not look again to judge her allure, sir. You bear the arms of our king
--
are you not by oath prepared to protect virtue?
”

Fe
lise quickly pulled herself within her room, facing Daria, who was shaking her head with disapproval. She listened intently to the voices outside while looking at her maid
’
s thin, pinched face, careful not to be seen by the men again.