She was positively terrified.
Truthfully, Teodora had been trying to think of a way out of it. Clearly, refusing to comply would not go well for her. It would anger the king, and anger Barric, and de Lara would probably come and drag her down into the hall. Running wouldn’t work, either; they would simply find her and drag her back. Nor would hiding. Any obvious resistance wouldn’t work.
But maybe something else would and an idea occurred to her.
Loudly, she sneezed.
“Goodness, m’lady,” Norma said. “Have you caught a chill?”
Teodora began wiping at her nose. “I must have,” she said. “I… I have not been feeling particularly well all day.”
“But you didn’t say anything about it.”
“That is because it was not worth mentioning.” She waved her one hand while holding her nose with the other. “Please find me a kerchief. And someone send for hot wine.”
Willa went off to send for the wine while Norma finished with the dress and Teodora put her arms down, smoothing at the garment. As Norma went into the other chamber to look for a kerchief, Teodora hastened to her dressing table, the one that contained all manner of oils and perfumes that Barric had purchased for her. She never used them, of course, but there was something in particular she was looking for –
Ladies’ Red Powder.
It was made from crushed safflower petals, a cosmetic Barric had given her because he liked women who wore red on their cheeks and even color on their eyelids. Teodora had never worn it but, at this moment, she was quite interested in it. Quickly, she opened up a small wooden box and found the fine red powder. Using her fingers, she took a pinch of the dust and put the red all around her nose and even a little on her eyes, making her look rather sickly.
It was the only plan she could think of. If the king thought she was ill, then perhaps he would stay away from her at least until she could think of something else to keep the man away. But at the moment, this was the extent of her brilliant rebellion. As she was rubbing it all around her eyes and nose, Norma came back into the chamber with a soft linen kerchief.
“Here you are, m’lady,” she said, handing it to her. But when Teodora turned around to face her, the woman’s eyes widened. “What… what is the matter with your face?”
Teodora trusted her maids. They’d proven loyal companions during her stay at Rockingham and they had no particular love for Barric, so she let Norma in on her little plan.
“Nothing,” she said, looking her squarely in the eye. “I am sick. If anyone asks, I have been feeling poorly all day.”
Norma clearly did not understand. “But…”
Teodora grasped the woman’s arm to emphasize her point. “The king is a deviant and he has shown interest in me in the past, and I cannot risk him taking me to his bed,” she hissed. “If I am ill, I will be far less desirable. Now do you understand?”
Norma looked at her fearfully. “Oh, lass,” she breathed. Then, her shoulders slumped as complete understanding settled. “I do understand, truly. The king has visited Rockingham in the past, before you ever came to live here. I’ve seen him… a few years ago, there was a very young servant girl he tore asunder. She lingered for three days before finally passing on. When the king comes now, we hide all of the young women. I… I didn’t think to mention it to you, but I should have. Forgive me.”
Teodora could feel the old woman’s fear, mingling with her own. “Then you know why I must do this. I must do everything I can to make myself undesirable.”
Tears sprang to Norma’s eyes. “We should have hid you when he came.”
Teodora smiled faintly, patting the old woman on the shoulder. “It would not have done any good,” she said. “He knows I am here.”
Norma wiped at her nose with the kerchief she’d brought for Teodora and, in realizing she’d just blown her nose on her mistress’ kerchief, she handed it over to Teodora with horror in her expression. But Teodora merely laughed softly and took it.
“I am not going to refuse to see the king this night, but make it clear to anyone who comes for me that I am very ill,” she said. “All but Chad. I trust him; he will not give away my secret. In fact, I may need his help. He will need to confirm to the king how ill I am.”
Norma was still very upset about the situation and when Willa entered the chamber not long after with warmed wine in her hand, Norma whispered a few words of doom to her, causing the woman to well up. They both knew the horrors of the king’s visits to Rockingham. But the maids went about their business as Teodora sat in the comfortable chair next to her bed, the steaming wine in hand.
Facing the door, it was all Teodora could do. Sooner or later, an escort would come for her and she would have no choice but to comply.
When Chadwick finally came, she was ready.
“Outlaws?” John sounded disgusted. “I thought you had trouble with a local lord, Barric, but outlaws? That is why I brought a thousand men with me?”
The vast hall of Rockingham was full of the light of a hundred candles and the fire in the massive hearth was giving off enough heat to cause most everyone in the hall to sweat uncomfortably, even with the cold winter weather bleeding through the stone walls.
The heat was almost cloying as two male servants stood on either side of the hearth, monitoring it and tossing peat and wood onto the pile when they thought the flames were dying down. As a result, it was an incredibly large blaze that had flames licking the air outside of the confines of the hearth. Anyone who passed too close was in imminent danger of being singed.
Perhaps it was the heat that was making Barric sweat in the face of John’s question, or perhaps it was the fact that he rarely stayed upright for any great length of time because it was too much strain on his body. Perhaps it was even the fact that Sloan was seated next to John, listening to the king ridicule Barric and enjoying every minute of it. It was a roast of epic proportions and Barric was right in the middle of it.
This was not how he’d expected the king’s visit to begin.
“These are not ordinary outlaws, Your Highness,” Barric said evenly. “These are organized men who have wreaked havoc all over the area. I have sent my army out time and time again, with de Lara at the head, and so far they have failed to bring these men to justice. But that will all end now with the arrival of your army. Now that we have more men, we will make short work of these outlaws once and for all.”
John was leaning on the table, looking at Barric with a great deal of disgust. “But a thousand men?” he said. “Your missive said that you were having great trouble and needed reinforcements. I thought it was with Lord Lyddington to the north or, at the very least, Leicester, which is immediately where I am taking this army if all you need them for is to ward off outlaws. Leicester is greatly in need of reinforcing my position in the Midlands because there are whispers of rebellion coming from Birmingham and Wolverhampton. If de Wolfe of Wolverhampton moves against me, he will take the Marches with him. De Lohr will follow him, as will de Lara, de Shera, and de Velt. I will lose the Welsh Marches if Edward de Wolfe makes the decision to rebel.”
John was sounding somewhat hysterical. That was not an unusual state for the king, but something Barric didn’t want to bother with. He had his own problems. Frustrated, he tried to find the correct words to make this sound like a serious enough situation, but Sloan spoke before he could formulate a reply.
“I would not worry about de Wolfe, Your Highness,” Sloan said placatingly. “He has always supported you, and de Lohr has always supported the crown. You worry overly about them, I believe. But I have been at Rockingham long enough to see that these outlaws are a serious issue and are doing damage to the castle’s hold in the area. I believe you should listen to Barric, although he has been somewhat ineffective against common criminals.”
It was a dig at Barric, who looked at Sloan in contempt. He’s enjoying this, he thought angrily. Quickly, Barric leapt to his own defense.
“Your Hig
hness, if you do not let me use these men you have brought, then it is possible Rockingham will weaken further,” he said firmly. “De Lara has a fine plan to end their raids once and for all, but I need the use of your men. You have come all this way. Let me use them to rid myself of these terrible outlaws and Rockingham will stay strong for the crown.”
John was annoyed; that much was clear. He looked around as if searching for someone, his gaze finally falling on de Lara, who was standing back in the shadows of the hall. That was usual when the king was around. Sean wouldn’t sit at the table and enjoy the feast. When John was near, he did what he did best – he became the Shadow Lord, lingering in the darkness, watching for any threat against John. But he was also there if John saw a young woman he wanted. He would signal to Sean, who would go after the woman and bring her to an admiring king.
At the moment, however, there was no woman around that had the king’s eye, at least not yet. John motioned Sean forward and the man came out of the darkness, coming to stand next to the king. John eyed the very big knight with some satisfaction.
“De Lara, I must say that I have missed you in London with me,” he said. “I always feel much safer when you are around.”
“As you should, Your Highness.”
John lifted his cup but he was still looking at Sean. “Tell me about these outlaws that seem to have Barric so whipped,” he said drolly. “You know that the man sent me a missive asking for a thousand-man army to end a serious threat against Rockingham. He made no mention of the fact that the threat was mere outlaws.”
Sean didn’t look at Barric. He had helped construct the missive that had been sent to John, and he and Barric had purposely left out the nature of the threat for this very reason – John wouldn’t take it seriously. But rather than accept some of the responsibility for his part in the missive, much like Sloan had, he let Barric take the heat for the situation.
He didn’t much like the man, anyway.
“They are more than outlaws, Your Highness,” Sean said. “Whoever leads them is cunning and skilled. I am convinced they are led by someone who has trained at the highest levels because the tactics he uses are quite brilliant.”
Because de Lara was giving the outlaws some credibility, John rethought his taunts to Barric. “I see,” he said. “Then you do need the army I have brought?”
“I do, Your Highness.”
“What is this brilliant plan to destroy them once and for all?”
Sean was concise. He knew that anything else would bore the king because the man didn’t have an abundance of patience. “I have sent men out to surrounding villages to spread a rumor that a very rich lord will be making his way north to Rockingham, and come the morrow, a small group of men in Fitz Hammond’s stripped carriage will start moving north from Geddington,” he said. “I already moved them south about a week ago, using roads to the east to stay clear of the outlaw territory. Tomorrow at sunrise, they will come north on the road from Geddington to Corby and pose as travelers. I am quite certain that the outlaws have heard the rumor of this rich lord and I fully expect them to be lying in wait for this carriage.”
Surprisingly, John was interested. “A trap?” he asked. “But why do you need so many men?”
“Because I am not exactly sure where the outlaws will strike,” Sean said. “I will need men out in the forests, in the fields away from the roads, and watching for the outlaws who will undoubtedly be hiding somewhere along the road. There is a portion of the road near Weekley and another south of Geddington where the road ends up passing through a thick copse of trees. If I were an outlaw, that is where I would be waiting.”
John looked at him dubiously. “And you believe they will be there?”
Sean nodded. “I have been doing battle against these men for the better part of several months, Your Highness,” he said. “I am coming to know how they think. They use the trees as both shield and fortress. If we can catch them in the act of an ambush, we can destroy them once and for all or, at the very least, greatly decimate their numbers.”
John’s gaze lingered on Sean for a moment longer before sighing heavily and returning to his wine. “Very well,” he said. “Do what you must, but you only have a week. After that, I am moving on to Leicester.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
With that subject out of the way, Sean stepped back, hoping the king was finished with him. He didn’t want to explain anymore, or talk anymore, for fear the king would rethink his permission to lend use of the army he’d brought with him. Fortunately, the king seemed to be more focused on his drink, so as Sean headed back into the shadows, John forgot all about him and turned to Barric.
“So that is what has been happening here at Rockingham,” he said. “Outlaws and mayhem. I sent you home to recover from your injury, Barric, and I will admit that you do not look very well. You look pale and thin. I sent you back to Rockingham with three of my very best vassals in de Lara, de la Roarke, and Chadwick. Where is Chadwick, by the way?”
Barric didn’t like the sense that he was being scolded for not recovering well enough, or quickly enough. In fact, this entire feast had been a nightmare from the start, and all of it designed to criticize and belittle him.
“I have sent him to retrieve Lady Barklestone,” he said.
The mere mention of the woman seemed to light up John’s expression. “Ah, yes,” he said. “The delectable Lady Barklestone. Has she been a remarkable companion, then? Has she behaved herself?”
Barric wasn’t sure how to answer that, for the true answer was complicated and probably not one that would please the king. “She has behaved herself, Your Highness,” he said. “She has kept herself… busy. She enjoys being my chatelaine.”
John frowned. “Chatelaine?” he repeated. “But you have a majordomo. Why do you need a chatelaine?”
Barric was already feeling defensive and watching Sloan’s face as the man smirked again at yet another touchy subject only made him angry.
“Lady Barklestone is my chatelaine because she said it would make her feel happy and useful,” he said. “Your Highness, you do not seem to realize that Lady Barklestone is no ordinary woman. She is not a lady of leisure. She does not like to be pampered or showered with gifts. She likes to work and she likes to ride with the army, which is what she has been doing. As far as being a companion, she is not only unentertaining, she is a serious bore. She cannot sing, she cannot play an instrument, and she is a terrible storyteller. Quite frankly, she has not been worth the fuss we have gone through for her.”
John was stunned. He looked at Barric as if the man had just informed him of something horribly grievous. “Boring?” he hissed. “The woman is boring?”
“As a blind and mute fool.”
John’s eyebrows lifted, now in surprise. “That cannot be possible,” he said. “She is so beautiful.”
“Her one redeeming quality. She is fine to look at and I appreciate her beauty, but that is all.”
John scratched his head as if baffled by the entire situation. “Have you bedded her, then? Surely she has been a pleasure to warm your bed.”
Barric could feel the warmth of embarrassment creeping into his cheeks. “I am in no condition to bed a woman, Your Highness,” he said. “The blood to my extremities… to my manhood… has been affected by this injury. I dare not shame myself so in bed with a woman when I cannot perform.”
The king was truly aghast by the entire situation. Lady Barklestone was a bore? She had been riding with the army? Worse still, Barric had not bedded her? Bewildered, he turned to Sloan.
“Is this true?” he asked the man. “Lady Barklestone has been terrible company?”
Sloan wasn’t going to play down the fact that the lady was a rotten companion. It would play into his plan of sending her back to her father, or so he hoped. That was still on the foremost of his thoughts and while he had the king’s attention, he hoped his ulterior motives weren’t evident.
“She does not wish to
be here, Your Highness,” he said truthfully. “If you were the wife of one man but the prisoner of another, I am sure you would not be very good company, either.”
John was insulted by the mere suggestion. “Preston does not want her,” he said. “In all the time she has been with Barric, Preston has never once asked for her return. Surely she knows that the man does not wish her returned, not after she conspired with de Nerra.”
Sloan simply turned to his drink, toying with his cup. “A man can forgive,” he said. “Especially with his wife. Certainly, it is not as if he can cast her off. She belongs to him for life.”
John eyed Sloan with disdain. “She belongs to me, as my vassal,” he said, taking a healthy swallow from his cup. “If Barric believes she has been such terrible company, then I should look her over for myself. Beauty such as hers should not go wasted and even if all I do is look at her, it will be fulfilling. But I can promise you that, unlike Barric, I shall do more than simply look at her.”
Sloan didn’t reply, but he didn’t have to. Lady Barklestone decided to make an appearance at that moment and further conversation ceased.
All eyes turned in her direction.
The hall was near the gatehouse, part of the complex of Rockingham, and away from the circular shell keep where the residences were. When the door to the hall lurched open, beyond was the black night, but Teodora created her own light with the orange silk she wore and her blonde hair braided and pinned. She looked positively elegant upon the arm of the physic. But as she drew near, she suddenly sneezed into a white kerchief she was carrying in her hand.
The closer she came, the more it became evident that something was wrong.
Teodora sneezed again right before reaching the dais, smiling wanly with pale lips, a red nose, and red-rimmed eyes. John’s eager gaze upon her quickly turned to surprise as Teodora dipped into a deep curtsy before the table.
“Your Highness,” she said, sniffling. “Welcome to Rockingham. I apologize that I was not here to greet you but I have been in my chamber.”
Noble Line of de Nerra Complete Set: A Medieval Romance Bundle Page 35