A Promise of Tomorrow

by Aston, Alexa

  Madeleine beamed. She slipped her hand into Garrett’s. “It suddenly came to me and I knew it was the only way to put him off.”

  She looked across at Marielle. “I am not the person I was then, Marielle. I ran away from an abusive husband. Fate led me to Garrett and I fell hard for him.” She looked up at her husband, love shining in her eyes. “He wanted to marry me but I was not free to do so. Waiting due to Advent gave me time to flee.”

  Madeleine reached out a hand to take Marielle’s. “Time is on our side now. Mayhap Cardinal Corot will send word to us in the meantime and help you out of this complicated situation.”

  Marielle’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. “Are you certain he will reply to you?” she asked Garrett.

  He nodded. “I rescued the cardinal from a perilous situation. I was on my way home to England when I came across highwaymen in the road. They had forced the cardinal and his manservant from their horses. In his royal robes, there was no mistaking who he was. The thieves thought to help themselves to his ring and other treasures he carried with him. I made sure it never happened.”

  Garrett’s last words caused a chill to course through Ashby. He knew exactly how ruthless his friend could be when seeing someone wronged. He had no doubt the cardinal remembered Garrett’s actions and would return a favor to his rescuer.

  He was itching with curiosity, though, about Marc’s situation. He thought quickly what he might do and excused himself. A guard at the door stopped him.

  Ashby moved closer to the man and said quietly, “I am in sudden need of the garderobe. Quick, where may I find it?”

  The soldier whispered brief instructions and let him pass. Ashby found himself in the hallway alone. He moved quickly along the corridor, heading toward the room Marc conducted business from on his last visit.

  He reached it and found the door slightly ajar. Voices came from within. Ashby leaned close to listen.

  “Brideau is a lunatic if he thinks I cheated him!”

  Ashby recognized Marc’s panicked voice and smiled.

  “Then explain your case to the king. He is said to be an understanding man.” That was Donatien.

  “But Brideau has the king’s ear. If he says he has been deceived, he will be believed. No, I have been summoned to pay the piper. Donatien, you and Etienne must help me spin a credible tale.”

  Ashby had heard enough. He hurried back to the great hall and pulled Garrett away from the women, sharing what he’d just learned.

  “This summons from the king is a good sign,” Garrett murmured. “I wonder if Cardinal Corot is behind it.”

  “I doubt it. Marc seemed too upset. I would wager my Lightning that he double-crossed this Brideau fellow. He’s in a panic, Garrett.”

  “Which can still work to our advantage.”

  Marc returned, having regained some of his composure. He thanked them for coming.

  “I am so glad you are here with Marielle, as I have been called away on business for the king.” He clasped Marielle’s wrist in his hand. “Would you like for your friends to keep you company while I am away, my dear?”

  Madeleine spoke up quickly. “My children need me, Comte. I am afraid we must decline—”

  “Then send for them, my lady.” The comte’s eyes gleamed. “Monteville has plenty of room for you all.”

  She looked Marc squarely in the eyes. “They shall not spend one night under this roof.”

  He shrugged. “So be it. You will remain here. As my guests. Without these children.” He snapped his fingers. “Guards. Escort these fine gentlemen below. They will be sharing quarters with our other visitors.”

  Ashby stepped quickly forward to challenge Marc. Armed knights drew weapons at once, blocking his way. The steel of their swords gleamed menacingly in the light.

  Marc smiled. “I bid you enjoy my hospitality. And if either of you cause my men trouble of any kind, we will add both ladies to your company.”

  Ashby knew there was no escape. He and Garrett were outnumbered by more than twenty armed men. He knew, too, that Garrett would not risk anything happening to Madeleine, especially in her delicate condition. He cursed silently, berating himself for dragging his friends into such turmoil. Then a thought occurred to him.

  “Give her your ring,” he hissed at Garrett.

  Garrett immediately withdrew the ring from his finger without question. A circle of men now surrounded them. Marc had left the room.

  Garrett held the ring up. “May I give this to my wife? She may wish to send word to her parents that we have extended our stay.” He glared at the commander with eyes of steel. “They will need the seal from my signet ring to make any such message believable.”

  The knight in charge pondered Garrett’s words and then reached for the ring. He took it and handed it to Madeleine. Then the guard motioned for Garrett and Ashby to leave the room.

  Ashby turned back for what might be his last glance at Marielle.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Marielle watched Ashby and Garrett being led from the room. Why could she not be a man? Then she would have the strength and the courage to stop these events that now spun out of control. A numbness spread throughout her body. She sank into a nearby chair.

  Madeleine sat down next to her and called for parchment. “I must write to my parents so they will not worry about us,” she said sweetly to the captain of the guard. “They will be delighted that Marielle has returned and is soon to wed the comte.”

  Marielle admired Madeleine’s spirit. Even in such adverse conditions, she kept her head about her. She lay a hand over Madeleine’s and gave it a squeeze, hoping she might draw comfort and strength.

  “I am writing directly to Cardinal Corot,” Madeleine whispered. “I doubt they will break the seal before they take it to the chateau. Papa will know immediately what has occurred. He will send it posthaste to the cardinal himself.”

  Madeleine smiled reassuringly at her as the inkwell was set in front of them, along with paper and sealing wax. Madeleine wrote smoothly and quickly, smiling all the while. She finished her note and folded it, dropping the hot wax onto it and pressing Garrett’s ring into it to make a deep impression.

  “Please see that this goes to Chateau Branais,” she asked the closest soldier. He accepted the letter and withdrew from them.

  As Madeleine had written, Marielle racked her mind for a way out. Part of her simply wanted to accept the circumstances and marry Marc the day after Epiphany. That way her friends—along with Ashby—would be free of her. Yet another part rebelled against such a notion of a lifetime of misery. A life with Marc de la Tresse.

  She’d tasted love in all its sweet glory. Both her body and soul had entwined with Ashby fitz Waryn’s. She refused to give in. She must find a way to see them reunited for all time.

  Marielle knew how Ashby admired Madeleine and she, too, had come to love and respect this women as her dearest friend. Why couldn’t she be calm and reasonable in such a crisis? Despondency filled her, blackening her mood when she’d thought it could grow no darker. Suddenly, an idea sprang forth, as if a bolt of lightning hit her. She knew exactly how to escape from Monteville and into the arms of safety.

  She rose as regally as possible and addressed the captain. “May I assume my usual duties, sir?”

  The man frowned at her. “What need you do, my lady?”

  “I know it is close to the noon meal. I would go and supervise in the kitchen as always. Madeleine?”

  Her friend stood. “How may I be of service, Marielle?”

  “If you would be so good as to have the trestle tables taken down? The vineyard workers will be arriving shortly. Mayhap these good soldiers could see to your bidding?”

  She nodded at Madeleine briefly, trying to convey with her eyes that she knew what she was doing. Trust me, she willed.

  “Very good, Comtesse.” Madeleine turned and motioned a few men over, assuming the task.

  Marielle immediately went to the far end of the great
hall and into the kitchen. Stew bubbled in several pots. She could also smell the baking bread that would accompany the meal. She slipped from the room and rounded the corner to the storeroom. Marc may have taken precautions throughout Monteville but he’d ignored locking the storeroom.

  She quickly entered the room and went to the far left where the herbs and spices were gathered. Beyond that in a tiny alcove were jars and vials of medicinal herbs, exactly what she required. She moved quickly, pocketing what she needed before returning to the great hall.

  The tables were set up and the first of the hungry workers began to stream in. Marielle stopped a kitchen servant, a young girl of not more than ten and two. Marielle thought her name was Jeannette.

  “Who takes the meal to the guards below and their prisoners in the dungeon? Or do those men come to the hall for their repast?”

  The girl replied shyly, “I have done it before, my lady. Usually they are given bread and cheese at midday. They are to stay there until the evening meal is served before they are relieved. Would you like me to do so again today?”

  “Yes, child, but let us wait until after these good people above have been served.”

  The servant curtsied and continued on her way. Marielle hadn’t counted the number of guards she’d seen while visiting her parents. It would be better to take a pot down with wooden bowls and serve up the meal that way.

  She found Madeleine and the two women took their places. Sharing a trencher made their quiet conversation a bit easier, especially since the hall was filled with boisterous laughter and a hundred workers speaking at once.

  “I have a plan. I will need your help. Whatever happens, do not let anyone but the guards eat from the stew. You will help me serve them after the meal has been completed.”

  Madeleine nodded and broke off a piece of bread, chewing it thoughtfully. “I knew you would think of something.”

  “Nothing is accomplished yet but we will certainly give it our best effort. Now, eat up. You will need your strength.”

  They finished in silence. Marielle’s nerves were taut. She noticed the captain watching her with interest. Marc must have commanded the man to keep an eye on her. She would have to be careful and not give anything away.

  The laborers finished with dinner and rose as a group to return to the vineyards. The castle’s servants began clearing dishes. It was time to set her plan into motion.

  Marielle approached the captain. “Sir, I would ask that I be allowed to take my family something to eat now that the meal has been completed.” She caught the eye of the girl she’d spoken to already and waved her over.

  As she arrived, Marielle said, “Jeannette often takes the guards below their bread and cheese. I would simply ask to accompany her and see that they and my family are cared for properly. Surely you can grant me such a request?”

  Marielle smiled at him shyly, her head bent down while she looked up through thick lashes. “I would be ever so grateful.”

  “You may,” he said gruffly. “But I will escort you myself.”

  “Then let me get the food we shall need. I thank you for your kindness, sir.”

  She and Jeannette returned to the far end of the great hall and crossed into the kitchen. Fortunately, Madeleine fell into step behind them. She began talking to Jeannette, smartly distracting the girl as they reached the serving area. Marielle had not told Madeleine exactly what she would do but Madeleine knew it involved the food. Her friend held the girl’s attention as Marielle bent before a container of stew still on the fire.

  With a quick glance around, she removed a vial from her pocket and poured it in, then another one. She reached for a wooden spoon and stirred the stew well before gathering several bowls and spoons.

  By this time, Jeannette and Madeleine had gathered a basket of bread and a few rounds of cheese. Marielle nodded slightly at Madeleine, letting her know the first step had been taken.

  “The captain said he would escort us. I shall summon him.” Marielle began walking that way, only to be met by the man himself, looking about warily.

  “Would you be so good as to lift a pot for me?” she asked. She wrapped a cloth around its handle. “Now careful, for it’s very hot.”

  The solider looked uncertain. “The men usually get bread and cheese now.”

  “Oh, we have that, as well.” She indicated Madeleine and Jeannette. “I know they would appreciate a hot meal, though. The dungeon is such a cold, dismal place. And if they are allowed to return above to sup at eventide, they will not receive anything hot at day’s end.”

  Marielle tried to look her most appealing. “Please? I would also see my parents get something warm in their bellies. They are old and feeble. Surely you would not begrudge them a simple fish stew?”

  “No, I suppose not. Come.” He took the heavy pot and lifted it easily as he led them to the dungeon. Marielle quieted her fears, praying desperately that her scheme would not fail.

  The guards looked surprised to see not only their captain but the steaming pot he carried. A stomach gurgled loudly as the men caught a whiff of the cooked fish. They laughed companionably and took the wooden bowls and spoons from her.

  “Set the pot here, Captain,” Marielle instructed him. “Let’s be sure all your men are fed properly and then we’ll see if there’s enough for the others.”

  The men quickly encircled her like flies as she dished up hearty portions to all. Marielle caught sight of her father in the dim light, a sour look upon his face as he watched his daughter feed his jailers. He turned from her, disgust evident by his very posture.

  By the time she finished, very little was left in the iron pot.

  “Less than a serving remaining, my lady,” the captain noted.

  “Well, we brought plenty of bread and cheese. May I distribute that to my family?”

  He nodded. Marielle wanted to make sure the guards got most of the stew into their bellies before she ever offered them more. She didn’t want the meal diluted by anything else.

  She took the bread from the basket Jeannette had brought, breaking it so that it fit between the bars of the cell. Her father still had his back to her but her mother rushed at her and swiped the bread from her very fingers, greedily tearing into it. She was dressed in rags and Marielle could see how thin she’d grown. Marc must have slowly starved them. The thought sickened her but quickened her resolve to see that they escaped from Monteville.

  “Here. Give this to Papa.” Her mother greedily took the offered bread and held it close. Marielle wondered if her father would receive any or not.

  She took some to her siblings, all the while listening to their disparaging remarks. It was obvious they longed for something warm to eat and felt betrayed that she’d given it to the guards. Yet she couldn’t whisper an explanation or warn them not to eat any if a guard offered any remaining to them.

  Marielle last went to Ashby and Garrett’s cell. As she passed the bread to them, Ashby briefly stroked her finger. The tender gesture almost undid her. Her knees buckled. She locked them to keep from falling. He must have realized how fragile she was for he gave her a rakish smile and winked at her.

  It was what she needed to bolster her spirits. Marielle turned back to the others. Jeannette and Madeleine had distributed the cheese to the prisoners. They looked to her for further instructions.

  “We may go now, Captain. I will leave the remaining bread and cheese for the men to partake of after they have finished their stew.” She inclined her head slightly to him. “I thank you for your generosity.”

  He nodded to her and led them out of the bowels of the earth again. Marielle sucked in the sweet air as they reached the top and then turned to flash Madeleine a look.

  “Oh, Madeleine, are you all right? You are so pale.”

  Madeleine’s instincts from her play-acting days with the mummer’s troupe must have kicked in for Marielle witnessed an immediate change in her. Madeleine’s posture stooped. Her mouth grew slack. A hand weakly fluttered to wa
ve in front of her, as if to stir the air.

  She slipped an arm about Madeleine’s waist and looked to the captain.

  “Might I take Lady Montayne to rest in my chamber? I do not know if rooms have been prepared for her yet.”

  Madeleine gave a slight moan and started crumpling to the floor. The captain came to her rescue and helped her to stand.

  “Thank you,” Madeleine whispered. “I am with child and find myself growing weak at the oddest moments. If I could only lie down . . .” Her voice faded.

  Marielle interjected, “You usually nap at this time of day, dearest. For several hours?”

  Madeleine picked up on the cue. “I would like to but only if it will not inconvenience you, Marielle.”

  She brushed a stray strand of hair from Madeleine’s cheek. “I insist upon staying with you. It wouldn’t do for you to awaken in a strange place.”

  They made their way to Marielle’s former chamber, the captain trailing helplessly behind. When they arrived at the door, Marielle paused.

  “Would you see that no one disturbs us, sir? I, too, feel a bit of rest would help me after our long journey from England has now ended.”

  Jeannette had followed them upstairs. Marielle looked to her now. “Pass along the word, Jeannette. We are not to be disturbed.”

  “Yes, Comtesse.”

  The two women entered the chamber and closed the door. They walked over to sit on the bed and threw their arms around one another.

  “Oh, Madeleine, you are too good for words.”

  Her friend grinned impishly. “Farley always said I had a bit of talent. He preferred using me as a troubadour but there were a few times I filled in on stage with the other mummers. Did I look sufficiently frail and faint?”

  “Oh, yes. I think you could have fooled even Garrett.”

  A shadow crossed Madeleine’s face. “Oh, Marielle, pray tell me how we are to get them out of such a sorry place. I cringe thinking of my Garrett there for even a few hours.”

  Marielle sketched out her basic idea to Madeleine, who nodded enthusiastically as she described each step.