The Troubadour's Romance (43 page)

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Authors: Robyn Carr

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BOOK: The Troubadour's Romance
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Vespera is well on her way?


Aye, though I fear the good lady has lost ten years off her life. As she passed through the town, she sighted Aswin and was near sick with the fear that the old lord had arrived to help Boltof. I allayed her fears. When Boltof leaves, I will bring Aswin to the hall.

He chuckled.

Surely Celeste will welcome her stepfather

s protection.


Royce,

Felise gently asserted,

I know who Vespera is.

He looked down at her and saw the glistening of tears in her eyes.


Lady Veronique de Raissa ...

he began.


Queen Eleanor

s poetess,

Felise
added.

Oh, the many small mysteries finally formed one large one. You were the one to attest to the fact that the de Raissa lands were anything but modest and had been well managed for many years, and Vespera herself gave me clues, though I thought she spoke mostly from her close association with Eleanor.

Royce took her hand.

I urged her to tell you the truth, and by God she was fearful that you would not understand. All of her interference, her protective nature
--
it was all to do right by you. All these years she has been devoted to you. You must be honored to know this.

Felise
gave a short, sentimental laugh.

There were times in the past few months when her eyes became so much like Lady Edrea

s, her manner scolding like any mother

s, and I did not understand. And other times when she sacrificed,
although there was no need. She suffered no lack of money though she was never paid by me for her services, yet I did not see anything strange in this.

She looked up at him, shaking her head, her chin trembling.

I am so spoiled, Royce, that I didn

t even wonder at this added attention from a stranger. I am accustomed to having everything
I
desire.


You deserve your every desire,

he murmured.


I wanted to tell her I knew before she left this morning, but Boltof would not allow us a word. I wanted to thank her and assure her I am pleased.

He gently caressed her cheek with his knuckles.

She was afraid to tell you,

he whispered.

She feared you would be angry that she let you be taken from her so many years ago, yet I am certain the choice was not hers at the time. And you were well enough cared for.


But she came back.

Felise

s voice was a mere trembling whisper. The emotional impact of the gesture had clearly shaken her.


Aye, she came back, to see you wed to her satisfaction, to see that you inherited family lands that are rich and beautiful beyond your wildest dreams, and to assure herself that you were well and happy. All this for you, my love, for she asks nothing for herself. There is a great deal more to a parent

s devotion than just spending years in common company.


Do you know who my father is?


Nay. The lady will not name him, though she promised we need not fear for our children. She said he was a noble sire and the name would make me proud. Perhaps you can convince her of your right to know.

A tear traveled down
Felise

s cheek. Royce gently wiped it away and turned with her to look at the town.


When she returns, you will tell her all you have come to know and ask her to stay,

he said.


May she? Oh, thank you, Royce.


I think it only decent that you have her near through the birth of our son.

Felise
smiled through her tears.

Aye, if we can just see the Sunday morn and be finished with Boltof.

Royce

s smile turned instantly to a frown.

If I only knew how...

They looked together toward the setting sun, outlining the rooftops of many huts. The gates to the town began to creak open. The evening was approaching and the spring night would be cold. The farmers with their carts, mules, oxen, and tools began to filter into the village from the fields outside the walls. Women opened village doors to welcome them and the hearth fires were stoked for the evening meal. The smoke drifted upward to make a pattern against the pinkened sky.

They stood silently watching the village settle for the night, neither quite ready to venture back into the hall to join Boltof and Celeste. Men below them took harnesses from their animals, left carts bearing tools and bags of seed against their huts, moved silently between gate, stable, houses, sheds, and outbuildings. One by one the doors along the main road began to close.

Fe
lise sighed and gathered her shawl around her.

It

s getting cold,

she said.

Will you come inside now?


A moment,

he said, staring toward the gate that was now closing to protect them against the darkness. She began to pull away from him to go inside.

Stay,

he said, still watching the village.

She leaned against him until the gate was finally closed. The village lay quiet beneath them, the only signs of life being the dim lights from within the huts, a torch on each side of the gate showing Trumble

s silhouette as he stood watch, and the smoke from the hearths. The tilling of soil, clearing of more trees to enlarge the farm plots, and some planting had begun with the first sign of spring. Until Felise had procured the additional seed and supplies and stock for the village, these simple folk had taken only their picks and hoes to the outer side of the wall to work the ground. But now there was a great deal to move from the inner bailey to the fields every morning and return every night.


My God,

he whispered, remembering
Boltof

s
conver
sation in the hall.


What is it?

He pointed a hand toward a dark village road.

A man
could enter with a group of tired farmers and barely be noticed. There are a dozen ways: hiding on a cart brought into the village for the night, carrying a scythe and walking beside a mule in peasant garb, hefting a plow, or even leading an ox.


But would they not recognize a stranger among them?

she whispered.


Did you see them converse? Did they empty their carts? They enter the town separately to store their animals and carts, and move silently in and out of the stables and houses. They leave in much the same way at dawn, trying to get the best of the light. And again at midday the gate opens, when the women go to the fields to bring a meal to the men and boys. Our guard is stout and attentive, and no resident here hides his tools or seed, but leaves his cart full for morning.

He took a breath.

A horse tethered in the wood, a change of clothing, and Trumble not even pausing to count the heads of unarmed, poor farmers.


How very clever,

she said.


Now only one question remains,

he said.

We know he has a way to enter and leave unnoticed, but to what end? Surely not to find me in his sister

s bed. Forsooth, why am I needed in her room at all?

Felise
turned in his arms and looked up at him.

Royce, perhaps it is not very important where you are, but where you are not.

Royce thought for a moment and suddenly it all came to him. He thought perhaps he knew what Boltof intended. He smiled.

If he thinks to find you alone in your chamber, unprotected, he will be very surprised.


What will we do?

she asked, the edge of fear in her voice.


If he doesn

t gather some good sense and abandon his plan, we have him, love. Aye, we have him now.

 

 

 

 

Nineteen

 

By the time Coventry was in sight, the sun was setting. The troop was delayed in wait for Royce, and the day had been a long one. Vespera was exhausted from the tension of the preceding days and the apprehension about her meeting with Wharton. That clever knight would be much distressed to see her, when it must have been planned that any messages delivered to him would come through Trothmore.

Although she was tired and hungry, Vespera would not eat and did not find sleep. She rose, finally, and ventured to the church in the dark. Although the priest there was evil, it was a church she needed first. She arrived before lauds, the prayer time designed to end at dawn. She had fasted for her confession, but could not trust Trothmore for this spiritual function. This confession was for God, and her prayers for guidance were so fervent she was weak.

She wondered how it was decided that her entire life would be spent for this, for that was how it seemed. Surely no other purpose for her had ever shown itself. She had grown up as a quiet and shy little girl to be used for the pleasure of the queen and her troubadours. As a woman, she had been lonely and had known only the briefest touch of love, of a man. As a mother, there had been just those few
months of nurturing
Felise
. And now, if her part with Wharton was successful and she could convince him, it would bring to an end many years of treachery from Boltof. Was it the work of a tribunal of angels? A council of saints? Was it a divine plan, or simply the fate of one woman lacking the courage to make more of her life?

But, God willing, Royce and
Felise
would now be safe and well.

She would go to the sisters and now beg to become one of them. She saw her life as over, for her body was declining and good for little beyond prayer and humble chores at Fontevrault. She could no longer live among the nuns and pay a pittance for her board, for her demesne and its revenues no longer belonged to her. To live with the sisters, she would take the vows and work for them. And never leave Fontevrault again.


Father, be merciful as you deal with Aswin, for though he used me poorly, his seed brought wondrous life and the child has grown strong and beautiful. Surely some magnifi
cent plan kept us apart that she might grow within the Scelfton house, and for that my happiness is forfeit. Never could I have done so well by her as Edrea and Harlan have. And her gifts to You are great indeed, for she has love and compassion and can do more for those who have little than I ever could. Guard them all when I cannot, I pray.

Lauds passed as dawn broke the dark, and Vespera ventured out of the church. She walked away from it in the direction she had last seen Wharton take in leaving Boltof. She knocked on a merchant

s door inquiring after him, but the sleepy man knew nothing. Another door, another disap
pointment. A score of doors opened to her early-morning inquiry before someone knew the man and told her where to find him. She didn

t care that people looked at her strangely, or angrily. She felt one purpose only and moved with her typical quiet determination.

She rapped on the door where Wharton stayed and asked for him. The man who had given him rooms was reluctant to wake him at the early hour.


Tell him, sir, that a message from Segeland has arrived. He will rise.


Who will I say brings the message?

the man asked.


A messenger,

she said and smiled, refusing to give further answer.

The man opened the door wider that she might come within and wait, but she shook her head, preferring to wait in the street.

It was only a few moments before Wharton, obviously roused before his hour, came into the street. His hair was tousled, his clothes hastily donned, and sleep still clung to his lashes. His mouth was thick, his eyes were mere slits. She frowned, hoping he was alert enough to hear her.


You have something for me?

he asked.

She nodded and stretched her hand out with the note. He took it from her, thanked her, and made for the house again.

Nay, Sir Wharton. I am to wait while you read it.


Eh? Very well.

He leaned against the doorframe and read the few words. He looked at her in confusion.

There is no reply necessary for this.


Nay, Sir Wharton. But if y
ou fail to hear me, you will suf
fer. Boltof betrays you.

He sucked in his breath and glared at her suspiciously.

What say you?


He paid me to bring the message,

she said, drawing out the bag of coin and giving it a shake to show its value.

But he tells you very little. He plans some crime in which you may be his accomplice or perhaps the one accused. Royce bade me seek you out and explain Boltof. It will be much as the night that Sir Aylworth died.


What do you babble, wench? How do you know Ayl
worth?

She shrugged.

I did not know Aylworth. But I have lately come to learn that Boltof killed him. And

twas his plan to let you and Royce stand blamed for the crime.


Does Boltof conspire with Royce?


Nay, Royce sent me to find you. Boltof does not know he is found out and meant this message to be delivered to you through Trothmore. His purpose in killing Aylworth was to secure a good purse on Royce and then help Celeste into marriage with him.


How do you know this?

he demanded hotly.


I heard him tell his sister. I have heard many things, and
all show Boltof to be most intent on betraying all to get a fortune. He will let you fall, Wharton. You must trust him no further.


Royce sent you to trick me,

he accused.


Venture to this place .
.. Hunter

s Cross. Boltof will not be there. He will be caught and chained. If you abandon him now, you will not be injured. But if you conspire with him further, you may be killed. Remember, Sir Wharton, Boltof was the one to place you and Royce against each other. He would do so again, and emerge the winner
--
of the land in Aquitaine, the woman, Segeland.

Wharton

s eyes were free of the film of sleep now. He stared at her for a moment and then leaned more heavily against the doorframe.

Vespera did not waste time waiting but, while she had him snared, gave him more.

Boltof sets you against the Twyford men as well as Royce, but he will not fight. Boltof lies to you, for the Scelfton family supports Royce with mighty arms that even now will journey to the ends of hell to lay low any man who threatens their daughter. And Lady
Felise
will take no other man. Even
Boltof

s
father hides now in Segeland

s village in support of Royce.


Why do you tell me this?

he asked.


There is time for you to save yourself, if you are wise. Even as we speak, Boltof rides away from Segeland on the excuse of meeting a friend in a neighboring town, but he will hide himself in the wood. It is his plan to creep into Segeland under cover of night. This I heard him confide to his sister. His purpose is yet unknown, but I beg you to understand, he has killed a sleeping man before. He calls you to meet him and ride on Segeland with him. Will he take you to the keep, seek out the guard, and ask them if some evil has been done? Will he claim to have found you sneaking out of the town in early dawn? Or is it Royce he wishes to see accused of some murde
r, with you as the witness? Or.
..

she began, pausing very convincingly,

does he plan to kill Royce and name you the murderer? In truth, I can

t name his plan. But you need not be a part of it, for Boltof has been discovered and Royce lies in wait to catch him.

She paused and looked at Wharton closely. He seemed to struggle with this information.


Why should I trust you over Boltof?

She laughed lightly.

Sir Wharton, I see no reason you would ever trust Boltof, but if indeed you do, venture to Segeland on Sunday, as he requests, and see if he will lead you astray.


Aylworth,

he growled, the memory still hurting deeply.

The knave wished to divide our booty to his advantage. But when have knights not quarreled over their shares? Would I kill a man who sleeps?


Would Royce?

she countered.

He scratched his chin as if considering this for the first time, when indeed he had believed Royce the killer for years.

Even though I did not take his share, I stood accused.


Neither did Royce take Aylworth

s share, but gave it over to Henry, thinking all these years

twas you who slew the knight. Royce was alone, as you were, while Aylworth was killed. The story that Boltof and Royce were together was part of Boltof

s plan, as it left him covered and the only man not suspect. Royce sends me to you with the message that he knows your innocence in that crime.


I pray you remember, Boltof has never secured strong arms, nor built a fortune, but sought wealth through his sister

s marriage or his alliance with Royce and now, through you. But how, Sir Wharton? He has used Celeste and Royce. How does he use you? Do you trust him enough to find out?


Boltof spoke of murder ...


Whose?

she asked coyly.

His eyes rose to meet
hers, and though his were red-
rimmed for want of more sleep, there was a glitter of understanding.


Ah,

she sighed.

He speaks of murder, yet we know he will remove himself from suspicion. Whatever his plan, Wharton, he does not think he will be accused.

She shook her head.

He plans no portion of the prize for you. To divide any of this with you would put you both under the Scelfton eye, for you know that Maelwine found you togeth
er in Coventry.

Wharton stiffened suddenly.

I will ride to Segeland and
…”


And place yourself in his company again? Or warn him? Or stop him so that he is never caught? If he sees you venture near that keep, he will either use you to his advantage or
cease in his plotting for now. Left alone he will hang himself, for though he does not know it, he is watched. And whether or not you agree, Royce is most determined that Boltof must pay for Aylworth

s death.


Nay, Wharton, do not be a fool. Royce will take Boltof. Ride out of Coventry today. Find witnesses to prove you were not near Boltof or Segeland. When Boltof has done his worst and is caught, you will be far away.


Royce sends you to warn me? But h
e hates me .
..

She slowly shook her head.

That was the way of it while you were set against each other for Aylworth. Perhaps there is no love, but his hate is directed at another now.


How have you come to be the one to seek me out and warn me?


I am a trusted servant of that household. I have served Lady
Felise
since her birth. The lord and lady of Segeland trust my loyalty, for I was the one to warn them of
Boltof

s
treachery; I listened at his chamber door. And Wharton, you must believe Lady
Felise
has chosen her mate and will take no other. Their union is sanctioned by Henry and the Scelfton family. The only one foolish enough to conspire against them is Boltof. Unless you will stand alone against them all, have done with this plot.

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