She could only stare at the woman, hating her, yet listening in spite of all reason, which told her that the words were false. “I accept my husband as he is, as I must.”
“Well spoken by a loving wife. Will you feel the same when this husband sets another in this fine hall, puts another by his side at table? What say you when another child is favored over yours?” She near whispered this last sentence.
“What is your meaning of another child? Ranulf has no other children but the one I carry.”
“He will soon, my innocent lady, for I carry one now that is as much his as the one you give shelter.”
“Nay! I do not believe you! It is another man’s bastard—if indeed you do hold a child in that fleshless belly—and you try to convince me it is my husband’s.”
“I have given you warning and I have shown you proof of your husband’s love for me. Shall I show you the letters again, for I know you have seen them? Shall I describe the intimate moment of passion when he gave me the ribbon with the lions that you took from me? Nay, I see you know my words to be true.”
Lyonene tried to still her racing heart, calm her emotions and think rationally. When she spoke, it was quietly and deliberately. “Many women must look aside when their husband’s bastards are born. I am no less strong than they.”
“Ah, a most sensible way, but I think you forget King Edward.”
“And what has the king to do with such an ugly matter as you have placed before me?”
“Much, I fear.” Amicia watched Lyonene, studying her reactions to the words. “As has been mentioned, you are but a baron’s daughter, while I am heir to the Duke of Vernet’s properties and fortune. King Edward would like much to have England associated with such lands. Has he not expressed his doubts as to his earl marrying so low-born a woman?”
Lyonene could not answer, but her mind filled with memories.
“Do you know the story of Gilbert de Clare, the Earl of Gloucester? He has obtained his divortium and will soon marry the Princess Joanna. What think you King Edward will say when he finds the Duke of Vernet’s daughter carries the child of the Earl of Malvoisin? Think you he will laugh and pat Lord Ranulf’s shoulder? Or will he think of the war such a great insult to France might bring?”
Lyonene could not reply.
“What will you do then?” the high voice continued. “Will you sit calmly by as the Pope dissolves your marriage? And what of your child? Your child whom you thought to inherit will be cast aside and mine will become the Earl of Malvoisin. Will you remain here and share Lord Ranulf’s bed as his mistress? He seems to enjoy you well. I am sure he will continue to do so, even when you are not tied to one another with a marriage document. Mayhaps you will return to your parents. Will they not be proud of their daughter? Married once to the renowned Black Lion, his son in tow. You will be a prize, and your father will have little difficulty in finding you another husband. What say you to sharing a bed with another man? Mayhaps he will not be so strong as Lord Ranulf or so handsome, but he will have the hammers and iron to forge new babes.”
“Cease!” Lyonene put her hands over her ears. “Leave me! I can bear your presence no longer.”
“It is not my presence that troubles you, but the truth you hear in my words. I will go, but you are far from rid of me.”
Alone again, Lyonene sat, stunned, unable to make a coherent thought. Kate came and went, her questions unheard, unanswered. The woman’s words did indeed have the ring of truth. She seemed to remember every word spoken at court, every hint at her unsuitable marriage to an earl.
What of Ranulf? He seemed to sneer at convention, but he loved his king, and his honor was a matter of great importance to him. What if he were pressured by his king? She knew the answer, knew Ranulf could not disobey his king. Had he not once mentioned Simon de Montfort with hate, saying how the man had risen against his king, tried to overthrow King Edward’s father? Nay, Ranulf was an honorable man and would do what his conscience dictated.
She tried to sew again, but could not. What of Amicia’s crude statement? The idea of another man touching her brought a shudder of revulsion. Yet could she stay and become his mistress, see Amicia in his bed?
Nay! she thought, she could not.
Food was brought to her but she noticed neither it nor the hands that served it. She paced the floor, then stopped to stare through the glass of a window. The courtyard lay below and the retainers of the inner bailey walked about normally, as if this were not a day when Lyonene’s world had shattered.
Ranulf seemed to come to her from every corner, his face, his voice, his words. She had no faith in him! The thought brought new hope to her breast. Perhaps Amicia did lie. The letters could have been forged, the ribbon stolen. She had not seen them together, had no proof of her own that Amicia’s child had been fathered by Ranulf. If the child were not his, then King Edward would not force Ranulf to dissolve his marriage.
She must go to him, yes, she must see for herself if there were any truth to Amicia’s words. A glance at the window showed it to be late, too late to begin a journey.
Her mind worked quickly and she planned her journey with care. Once before she had used a disguise and she would do so again, only this time she must travel as a man, a boy at least. Clothes, she thought. She would need clothes; not rich ones to encourage robbers, but those of an apprentice, perhaps, on an errand for his master. She would need an excuse to be traveling alone. Once the thought of danger crossed her mind, but she shook it away. Her future and that of her child were paramount.
She rummaged through a chest of Ranulf’s and tried on some of his clothes, but they were hopelessly too large and the fabrics too rich for a poor boy.
“Kate, come here,” she called. She knew the girl looked with suspicion at her mistress’s wild-eyed look. “Kate, you have helped me before and now I need your help again. I must go to my Lord Ranulf, but I must do so in secret. No one but the two of us must know.”
“You cannot travel to his lordship without guards.”
“Nay, I must. I have to learn something. If I am right, then I will show myself and there will be no need for secrecy, but if I be wrong… Nay, I do not wish to think on it. But I must have your help. I need a boy’s clothes to fit me, as might befit an apprentice to a guildman. Think you that you can get these? Oh, and make them clean. I do not wish for vermin to infest my skin.”
“Aye, my lady. I can get them.”
Lyonene waited nervously for Kate’s return. She took the offered garments. “You told no one?”
Kate shook her head.
“They look to be of a good size. What else do you hold?”
“They are the boy’s clothes I shall wear.”
“You? But why should you dress as a boy?”
“When I travel with you.”
Lyonene stopped her examination of the garments. “Nay, Kate, you do not go with me. I must go alone.”
“I go with you or I will cry to the castle your intentions.”
Lyonene’s eyes narrowed. “Do you threaten me?”
“Aye, I do.”
Lyonene couldn’t help her laugh. “Then I must retreat. We will leave early on the morrow. You are sure you wish to risk this?”
“Do not force me to think of your folly,” the girl said as she helped Lyonene undress and get into bed.
Lyonene’s last thought before sleep took her was that she was cursed with insolent maids. She sighed and gave a silent prayer of thanks for both Kate and Lucy.
Early the next morn, as Kate and Lyonene packed their clothes, Hodder entered the room. The thin man had never really befriended his new mistress, and the two rarely spoke.
“Yes, Hodder, what is it?”
“I have arranged suitable horses for the three of us. They wait outside the castle walls.”
Kate and Lyonene exchanged glances and then the countess turned back to her husband’s valet. “I do not know your meaning. I have asked for no horses.”
“Y
ou could not expect to look as an apprentice astride an animal like Loriage. There is not a robber within England who would not attack for such a horse. Do not stand and stare at me, we must go.”
“Hodder, how…”
“Suffice to say that there is naught that goes on at Malvoisin that I do not know of. You belong to my master and he bid me care for you and I will do so. Now finish with your garments. I have spread the word that you go to the village and will not return until dark. That will give us time before a hue and cry is raised.”
Too astonished to ask further questions, Lyonene obeyed him.
They did not change into their disguise until they were at the ferry that took them from the Isle of Malvoisin to the coast of England. Hodder kept his identity and said he took the two freemen to Lord Ranulf. Kate and Lyonene carefully hid their faces and passed, unrecognized by the ferryman.
They rode hard for all the day and most of the night. When they stopped, Lyonene wearily fell onto the blanket Hodder spread for her. The ground was warm but hard, and when she awoke, her body ached in several places.
It was near sunset when they reached Gethen Castle, but Lyonene, spurred by a nervous energy, was unaware of the long, exhausting journey she had just completed. As the pennants of the Black Lion came into view, she slowed her horse and every nerve in her body screamed for her to return to Malvoisin; she did not want to know if Amicia’s words were the truth.
Hodder sensed her fears. “We can return, my lady,” he said quietly.
“Nay. I must know.”
The camp was not heavily guarded. The knight who did see the three riders saw there was no threat and so did not challenge them. The Black Lion was famous throughout England, and many people came to stare at his camp, hoping for a glimpse of the earl or his Black Guard. Consequently, Hodder was able to lead the two women to a slight ridge very near the enormous black tent Lyonene knew so well.
Although the knight on watch thought little of the three strangers, there was another man who was most interested. He circled the camp and saw with satisfaction that the horses were indeed from Malvoisin. He studied the backs of the three people and grinned broadly when he saw a tawny strand of hair fall from under the too-large cap and then a small hand push it back in place. He fair ran back to his own tent, which he shared with many other of the garrison knights.
Lyonene was the first to see her. Amicia walked confidently to Ranulf’s tent, and Lyonene knew her heart must have stopped along with her breath. So the woman did not lie; she did indeed go to the camp.
“My lady, you must make yourself known. You cannot let that woman go to your husband’s tent.” Kate was indignant.
“Nay, I cannot present myself, for…” She stopped as she saw Ranulf come out of the tent. Her heart lurched at the sight of him, so tall, his dark hair even darker in the fading sunlight, every part of him reminding her of their moments together—such brief moments, she thought now.
Amicia came from behind Ranulf and took his arm, then turned to look up at him, one hand on his chest, caressing it.
The three people could no longer see Ranulf’s face as he turned toward the thin woman. Amicia was talking to him and he was listening earnestly. Her arms slid around his neck and she stood on her toes to press her lips to his.
Lyonene rose and turned back to the horses. “I have seen more than I cared to. We ride for home.”
The return ride to Malvoisin was lost in Lyonene’s memory. The vision of Amicia in Ranulf’s arms was all she saw. So it was true! All that Amicia had said was true. She thought her love for Ranulf was strong enough to bear his children from other women, if need be, but she could not stand by and see him marry another—or find herself married to another man.
She allowed Kate to care for her, blindly doing as she was told. She was not even aware when they arrived at Malvoisin, or when Kate undressed her and put her to bed. She slept fitfully, feeling worse when she awoke.
For two days she was aware of nothing, only sitting in the solar and idly staring or making half-hearted attempts to sew. She felt no anger—no emotion of any kind—when Amicia stormed into the solar one morn.
“So, you know.”
“Aye, I know.”
Amicia grinned slyly. “And what say you now to your fine hopes for the child you carry? Mayhaps Lord Ranulf will allow him to stay and serve my child.”
Lyonene only watched, dully.
“I did not think you so selfish as this,” Amicia continued. “You seem to give little thought to your child, but brood continually on your own broken heart. Many women have found their husbands to stray, but they at least sought to protect their children.”
“I know of no way to protect my son. How can I work against the evil you plot? I am an apprentice to your mastery of devilwork.”
Amicia sat next to Lyonene and took her cold hand. Lyonene frowned at the woman, whose face had changed to show great concern. “My Lady Lyonene, I beg your forgiveness in this matter. I know it was due to you that I was saved from the storm and I owe you my life. I did not mean this to happen, but Lord Ranulf, I cannot explain, the man but looked at me and… I see you undertand.”
Amicia leaned closer. “I was a virgin when he took me and I could not resist.”
Lyonene looked away.
“I have never loved a man ere now and I will say that I want him, must have him, just as you want him. I have no right to ask your forgiveness, but there is a way mayhaps I could atone for some of my ill deeds.”
“There is no manner in which you could repay me for what you have done.”
“I know, my lady, and I am ashamed. You were happy before I came and I have taken away your happiness. If I did not carry his child, I would not press the matter. I would return to France and try to mend my broken heart, which would surely be the case were I to leave Lord Ranulf.”
“So what way do you plan to give me back some of that which you have stolen?”
“I cannot save you, but I mayhaps could save your child. Even now a messenger wings his way to King Edward with news of my presence in England and also tells him of the child I carry. The divortium, I am sure, will come soon.”
“How will this save my child?” Lyonene asked, her mouth a grim line.
“If you cannot be found before your child is born, he will be heir to the earldom.”
“I do not trust you. Why would you risk losing a title for your child by telling me this?”
Amicia shrugged. “I owe you my life and, too, there is a chance your child will be a daughter. Also, Ranulf must leave his title to his first-born son. Not so his estates. I do not risk so much as it seems.”
Lyonene considered for a moment. She would not have believed her had she seemed to sacrifice all for Lyonene’s child, but it was true she owed her life to Lyonene and might wish to repay her in some way. “So, you have a plan, it seems?”
Amicia put her finger to her lips and silently walked to the door, searching the empty corridor. She came back and sat next to Lyonene, her voice a whisper. “This must be done in secret. No one must know of it, that nosy valet or your maid. Agreed?”
Lyonene nodded.
“I risk much to plan this and I do not wish to be caught. I have heard your father has relatives in Ireland. This is true?”
“Aye, but I do not know them, although my father has talked much of them.”
“Think you they will harbor you until the safe delivery of your child?”
“Aye, I think they would if they knew he were in danger.”
“Good,” Amicia whispered. “Then I will arrange for a ship to take you to Ireland. You will abide there until after the child’s birth. Then, when the child is safely delivered, you may return to England, to your father’s house. I am sure the divortium will be final by then, but the church will not allow another marriage until you are found. Therefore your child will be first-born and earl.”
Lyonene frowned. “I do not understand. If the divortium is final, how will I still
be married to Ranulf?”
Amicia looked about her, wildly, for a moment. “It is too complex to explain. You must trust me, for I am the daughter of a duke and I know better the ways of court law. You agree to this plan?”
“I do not know. I am confused. I…”
“You are selfish!” Amicia said in disgust. “I offer you some safety, a means to escape the plight ahead of you, that you even stop to consider is an indication of your selfishness. Think you of your son when he is twenty and turns to you and asks why you did not consider him in this matter, but only your lust for his handsome father. Then you will have naught, this husband you crave or your son’s love. Will you speak of confusion then, ask his forgiveness when he is little more than a beggar, declared bastard of the Earl of Malvoisin? Mayhaps he will one day see my sons and be reminded…”
“Cease! You go too fast.”
“There is need to haste, for I believe the siege to be over soon.”
“Then Ranulf will return and I may speak with him.”
Amicia threw back her head in a high thin wail of what passed for laughter. “You are more a fool than you seem. You would rather hear my words from this man you simper over? Think you he will allow you to go to Ireland and foil his king’s plan of his earl’s heir being the grandson of a Frankish duke? Nay, my lady, if you leave for Ireland, you do so quickly and before he returns.”
“I… When would the ship leave?”
“On the morrow.”
“So soon? I have had no time to think.”
“I have arranged the time just so, so you could not reconsider. I have watched you and know your lust for him will betray you. You must decide now, this moment, aye or nay, and in a short time you will be off.”
Lyonene could not think. She saw Amicia kissing Ranulf, thought of Ranulf’s relationship with his king and then she thought of their child. “Aye, I will go.”
Amicia gave a smile of triumph. “You have made a wise choice, my lady. This night you must pack only what you can carry in leather bags that go on a horse, no more. And you must let no one know of your plans. No one! Do you understand?”