Joan swung toward the door as she saw it open. She could not have been more horrified if the Angel of Death had stepped over the threshold. It was Holland!
Her hand flew to her throat. “I … I thought you went on campaign with Edward,” she gasped.
Holland smiled. “The queen could not possibly manage without me at a time like this.”
Joan feared this man more than she feared any plague on earth. She stood frozen like a rabbit, helpless in the face of a fox. Her heart catapulted into her throat as she watched him move to the cradle and take Jenna into his arms. “I think our daughter should return to the royal nursery until the threat of this sickness passes. They are taking extra precautions with the royal children.”
“No!” Joan cried. “She will be safe with me.”
Holland spoke quietly to the wet nurse. “I’d like to be private with my wife. I’m sure I can explain that our child’s safety is more important than my wife’s irrational fear of being alone.”
The nurse curtsied to Sir John and went into the adjoining room.
“You monster, put my baby down,” Joan hissed.
He walked toward her with Jenna, the perfect picture of a devoted father. Joan began to tremble.
“Babies are so fragile. Many don’t survive their first year. Accidents happen so quickly. One twist of Jenna’s tiny leg could cripple her or one careless drop on her sweet little head could damage her brain and turn her into an idiot.”
Joan’s mouth went completely dry, the ache in her throat almost choking her. Joan knew she must get Jenna away from him immediately. She must tell the queen he had threatened her baby. Then she remembered Philippa was consumed with worry for her own child at this moment. Holland was supposed to be her baby’s father; no one would ever believe that he was a threat to his own child. They would say she was losing her mind as they had when Edmund died. There was only one person in the entire world who would believe her. Brianna.
“I will do whatever you ask,” Joan whispered.
“Oh, I know you will, my angel. When I return, I want the brat gone and the fucking nursemaids banished from our chambers permanently. We need time alone together so that we can get to know each other. Intimately! You will learn to cater to my likes and whims. I will teach you to give pleasure in ways you’ve never dreamed of.” When he saw his subjugation of her was complete, he said, “Call the nurse back.”
As Holland placed Jenna in the arms of the wet nurse, Joan tried to choose words that would satisfy his sick need to dominate her. “My husband has convinced me that our baby will be safer in the nursery. I’ll bring some of her things and we’ll get a servant to remove her cradle. My husband’s position of Steward is so demanding, he’d like our time together to be private and undisturbed.”
Holland dropped a possessive kiss upon Joan’s fair brow. “Thank you, my angel. Your decision is most wise. I shall join you in an hour or so.”
Joan was so weak with relief that she had gotten Jenna away from him safely, her knees almost buckled as she walked with the wet nurse to the royal nursery. The girl was as terrified of the plague as Joan was of Holland and talked about it in fearful whispers until they arrived at the nursery, where she was told in no uncertain terms to keep her mouth shut in front of the children.
Joan kissed Jenna a dozen times before she could force herself to leave her, but she knew her baby would receive round-the-clock care with the experienced royal nurses. Numb with fear, she sought out her only sanctuary. Brianna.
“Joan, have you heard the dreadful news about Princess Joanna?” Brianna asked.
Joan nodded and murmured, “Queen Philippa asked Glynis if she would help nurse her in quarantine.”
“How courageous she is!” Brianna declared. “I’m not sure I could be that brave.”
Joan burst into tears. “Brianna, you are the bravest woman I know. ’Tis I who am weak and afraid! My God, I’m so ashamed of what I’ve done, I wish it were me who had the plague instead of Joanna!”
“Darling, what in the world are you saying?” Brianna cried, putting her arms about Joan. “My God, you are trembling like a leaf. Do you feel ill?”
“No … yes, so ill I’m dying! John Holland is killing me!” Joan blurted.
“What did he do to you?” Brianna demanded.
Joan sank down upon the chaise longue, gripping one of its cushions tightly. Then she brought it to her breast and hugged it as if it were a shield that would protect her. “When Edward went away last time, Holland raped me.”
“Jesu!” Brianna gasped. “I take it you didn’t tell Edward?”
“Dear God, no. Holland threatened to tell Edward I welcomed him to my bed,” Joan said in a voice so filled with misery it wrung Brianna’s heart.
“That same night the king came to tell me of my brother’s death and when I collapsed and the queen’s ladies came, it was the only thing that saved me from Holland’s insatiable lust. I begged you not to leave me alone, and then you talked the queen into letting me have Jenna and her nurses in my chamber.”
Brianna poured Joan a large goblet of wine and insisted that she drink it down.
“I thought I was safe from him this time. Edward told me he was taking Holland on campaign, but he didn’t go!”
“Joan, you should have told someone!”
“But how can I complain about Holland demanding his rights when he is my legal husband?”
“You should have told me!”
“I was too ashamed, and I thought it would never happen again. But it will, it will!”
“It most certainly will not! Adele”—Brianna summoned her waiting-woman—“I’m going to stay with Joan. Please pack me some things.”
“I’m afraid of him, Brianna, and Glynis is so afraid of him she carries a coffin nail for protection.”
“God in Heaven, I have something better than a coffin nail!” Brianna declared. “Adele, where is that curved dagger I bought at the tournament fair?”
“I’ll get it for you. I’d better come with you, my lamb.”
“You most certainly will not. Adele is having a baby,” Brianna explained to Joan. “Paddy would have my guts for garters if anything happened to you or the child. Besides, Holland won’t dare lift his filthy eyes in Joan’s direction in my presence.”
“What if Holland harms you?” Adele demanded.
“A monster or a bully cannot be appeased. The only escape is to confront him head-on and see him for what he is. Joan, when you love and honor who and what you are, you don’t allow people to coerce you; you fight them.”
Adele knew that once Brianna had made up her mind, there was no deterring her. She glanced at the ferret who was running along the open balcony. “Shall I put him on his chain or do you want to take him with you?”
“As a matter of fact, that’s an excellent suggestion. Gnasher is better protection than a watchdog.”
As Hawksblood galloped along, a powerful vision of Brianna came to him. He saw her reach for a curved dagger and strap it at her waist. The vision was so crystal clear, he saw both outrage and stubborn determination written on her lovely face. He knew immediately that she was in grave danger.
He turned to Warrick. “I have to go back,” he told his father, with no further explanation. He spurred ahead to ride abreast of Prince Edward and his squire, John Chandos. “Brianna is in terrible danger. I must go back.”
Edward knew of Christian’s visions. Knew this was no coward’s trick to avoid fighting the French.
“I’ll return as soon as I can, Sire. I’ll catch up with you on the road or at Poictiers. I swear on the Cross.”
“No need to pledge me vows, Christian. I know your loyalty is absolute.”
Hawksblood turned his destrier and drew rein between Paddy and Ali. “I shall return as soon as I can.” He jerked his head in the Black Prince’s direction. “Guard his back as if it were mine.”
Joan was immensely relieved to find her chambers empty when she returned with Brianna.
She hoped that Holland’s duties would keep him busy the rest of the day. Brianna’s presence gave her much needed courage and Joan vowed she would die before she would ever submit to Holland’s degradation again.
Brianna let Gnasher off his silver leash so he could explore his new surroundings, then she took her bag into the adjoining chamber and hung the clothes she had brought in the wardrobe. The girls talked as Brianna changed the sheets on the bed that the nurse had slept in. They spoke of their anxiety for the young princess and wondered aloud why the sweet one should fall ill, while the one who played merry hell with everyone went unscathed.
They admitted how much they hated their men continually riding off to war and that they prayed every night for a lasting peace. They talked of Adele and the baby she was expecting, and Brianna confided how much she envied Joan and Adele.
Joan’s eyes flooded with tears. “I didn’t tell you what Holland threatened to do with Jenna. He said if I didn’t send her to the nursery and banish the nurses so we could be alone, he’d twist her leg so she would be crippled or drop her on her head.”
“My God, the man is insane! How could Edward have married you to such a monster?” Brianna suddenly appreciated Hawksblood’s devotion.
“Edward has no idea and I never want him to find out. I wish Holland were dead! Why doesn’t he catch this damned plague and die?”
Brianna put her arm about Joan’s shoulders. “Life doesn’t work that way. My daddy used to say, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride. And prayers can be very much like wishes, I’m afraid. Divine intervention is a rare phenomenon. Joan, there is good in the world and there is evil. If we combine our strengths and stand firm against Holland’s evil, we will defeat him. If we falter, we are lost.”
Joan nodded. “Brianna, I love you. How can I ever thank you for being my friend?”
“You have brought laughter and fun into my life. Things I would never have known without you. Your friendship is precious to me.”
“We can tell each other anything, no matter how dreadful, and know that nothing will destroy what we feel for each other.”
“We are blessed,” Brianna said, wiping away the last trace of Joan’s tears.
Queen Philippa could stand it no longer. Accompanied by her woman, Marie, she made her way to the large pink building where Princess Joanna’s large household had taken up residence. The guard posted at the door to enforce the quarantine fell back when he saw it was the queen, not daring to deny her admittance.
Inside, all seemed under control. Half a dozen women trekked from the kitchen to the upstairs sick room with boiling water, mops, and clean linen. The rest of the household were huddled behind locked doors in their own chambers. Glynis came out of the kitchen with a poultice she had just prepared. When she saw the queen she almost panicked. “Your Majesty, I beg you to leave!”
“Glynis, I will take the risk, as you do. I must see my little Joanna!”
Glynis did not want Philippa to see her daughter’s pitiful condition. Joanna had begun to vomit the most foul-smelling bile, she was so fevered she was delirious and an ugly black swelling had risen in her armpit. Glynis was going to apply the poultice to try to bring it to a head and release the toxic poison that was in the young girl’s body. “Your Majesty, if you touch her you can carry the sickness to the king, to Isabel or the younger children. Perhaps even all of them! Joanna begged me to keep you away. She knows that you love her and she asks that you go to the chapel and pray for her,” Glynis fabricated desperately.
Philippa pounced upon the suggestion with fervor. “I will go immediately. Please tell her how much her father and I love her.”
When Philippa and Marie left, Glynis said to the guard, “Put the bar across the door. Let no one enter or leave.”
The king received more terrible news. A wounded messenger arrived with an urgent dispatch from Lancaster’s army. They had been defeated in a fierce skirmish with the French and had retreated back to Cherbourg. The French army outnumbered them and they would not be joining up with the Black Prince anytime soon.
When the king summoned a servant, it was the Steward himself who arrived. “Sir John! I thought you rode out with Prince Edward at dawn.”
“Er … no, Your Majesty, I thought the queen would have need of my services when the princess fell ill.”
“Thank you, Holland. It must be Providence that you stayed behind. I need to get a message to my son or Warrick. Lancaster’s army cannot get through. It will be disastrous for them to face the French alone. They must return to Bordeaux for the present.”
Holland cursed silently, while bowing to the king.
“Come with me now while I write the dispatch.”
Holland knew he must make it appear that he would deliver the message. Inside he began to rejoice that Prince Edward was about to go down to defeat. What a stroke of luck that the king had asked him to take the dispatch! Holland had a feeling that Destiny had just taken his hand. He would bid a fond farewell to his delectable young wife, then go for a pleasant ride along the river Garonne.
When Holland entered the apartment, the first person he saw was Brianna. The bitch stood defiantly between him and his lawful wife. “What the hell are you doing here, she-bitch?”
“Making sure you keep your place in this household, you filthy cur!”
“If you think you are a fucking self-appointed guardian angel, you’ve got another think coming. You are nothing but a whore, perhaps even worse! Sleeping with two brothers, then luring one to murder the other!”
“That’s not true!” cried Brianna, launching herself at him to tear his ugly face with her nails.
Holland backhanded her so brutally, her head snapped back and she slumped onto the bed, unconscious. He picked her up, carried her limp body into the adjoining room and locked the door.
Joan stood rooted to the spot, white-faced, wide-eyed, trembling like a doe cornered by a wolf.
Holland was incensed that she had told her friend what he had done and that they had actually decided to defy him. Joan cried out in terror as he anchored one thick hand in the neck of her tunic and rent it down to its hem. The exquisite material fell in shreds about Joan’s delicate breasts and thighs. She shrank back from him, trying to cover her nakedness with her hair, but Holland thrust his cruel hand into the silvery-gilt mass and dragged her against him. His hand caressed her concave belly. “I want you to swell with my son. He’ll be the next Earl of Kent, thanks to me.”
In that moment Joan knew he had somehow murdered Edmund. She looked wildly about for something to hit him with in a vulnerable moment. Brianna couldn’t help her now; she’d have to help herself. Joan’s glance fell upon Brianna’s knife, which had fallen to the bed from its sheath when Holland hit her. Joan knew he would soon lead her to that bed. Knew he would remove his chausses so he could ravish her, and she knew what she must do!
As Brianna slowly regained consciousness, her hand crept to her jaw, which pulsated with excruciating pain. She felt as if she had been hit with a battering ram. When she moaned, Gnasher pawed at her gently, knowing she was hurt; urging her to get up from the floor.
Brianna eased herself into a sitting position and looked about her, slowly remembering where she was. Jesu, how long had she been unconscious? Holland had Joan at his mercy in the other room and ravishing her was the least he would do to her! On her hands and knees she crawled to the door and being as quiet as she could, tried to open it. Brianna wasn’t surprised to find it locked.
She racked her brain trying to recall what Adele had once used to pick a lock. Her head was beginning to ache vilely from the violence of Holland’s blow. She put her hands to her head, willing the pain away. Her fingers dislodged a hairpin and immediately she remembered it was the very thing Adele had used!
Working as carefully and as soundlessly as possible, she worked the wire into the keyhole and after what seemed like an eternity, finally managed to click it open. Brianna held her breath, hoping he hadn’t heard,
and after a minute she let out her breath and reached for her knife. Brianna had made up her mind to kill Holland! Stunned, she saw the sheath at her waist was empty. She looked all about the floor to see if it had fallen to the floor, but to her great disappointment, it was nowhere to be found. Refusing to be defeated, she took up an iron candlestick about a foot high and softly pushed open the chamber door.
Just as Joan hoped, Holland had her pinned to the bed now. The knife fit into her palm snugly, as if it had been especially designed for her small hand. She saw once again the obscenity of Holland’s genitals and lusted to slice off his thick purple phallus so it could never desecrate her again, but Joan knew she was fighting for her life and Brianna’s life as well, for assuredly Holland would have to kill Brianna to silence her.
As Holland plunged down upon her, Joan jabbed the knife into his throat. At that same moment Gnasher shot through the door, flashed across the bed, and fastened his teeth into Holland’s exposed nether region. A scream of agony erupted from his throat, cut off by a strangling noise as blood sputtered up and bubbled through the hole in his neck that Joan had gashed open. Brianna sprang after the ferret, crashing the iron candlestick down on Holland’s skull with a sickening thud. He rolled from the bed in a pool of blood.
“Sweet Jesus, are you all right, Joan?”
Joan was on her feet, the knife in her hand dripping crimson drops. “Did I kill him?” she panted.
Brianna looked down at his caved-in skull. “I think I did,” she whispered.
As Hawksblood rode like a madman, he received continual flashes of the danger surrounding Brianna. Though his mind was powerful enough to see, he was powerless to intervene. Then suddenly the images ceased and he became frantic. Though he despaired of reaching her in time, he knew he must try his utmost, strive to the limit of his endurance, fight to get back to her with his last breath.
The two girls clung to each other desperately, horrified at what they had done, yet knowing they would do it again. Holland had left them no choice. It was a matter of kill or be killed; destroy or be destroyed!