Justice of the Root

by Abby Gordon

  Alicia studied her a long moment before smiling. Squeezing her fingers gently, she shook their coupled hands.

  “It’s nice not to be alone in taking care of her,” she whispered. “I believe you would kill and die for her as I would.”

  Seeing the respect and approval in her eyes, Rose blinked back tears and nodded.

  “I need to get better with a knife,” she reflected.

  “She told me she expected improvement upon her return,” Alicia agreed.

  Smiling at each other, united in their cause, the two sat quietly a few more moments.

  ◆◆◆

  York

  “Still training the boys, brother?” Edmund sneered as the two walked through the main doors to head for the training yard.

  “They’re coming along quite nicely,” Edward replied.

  “I wouldn’t have the patience to deal with sniveling, sniffling brats,” the other dismissed the thought. “It’s demeaning. I don’t know how you bear it.”

  “I find it rather fulfilling if you must know,” answered Edward, nodding at Jasper and Godfrey who were at the smithy as they passed. “They all work hard. There are few complaints. None of them show up with aching heads from too much to drink,” he grinned, clapping Edmund on the shoulder. For several of the men had done that the day before. “A couple show some real promise when they grow.”

  “Promise? Promise in what? Using a scythe? You’re training the sons of farmers and sheep owners,” sneered Edmund.

  “Our father is a sheep owner and farmer,” Edward reminded him. “In fact, he owns more than most in the shire without title.”

  “Yes,” murmured the bastard. “Yes, he does, doesn’t he?”

  The slight smile on his face sent shivers down Edward’s back as he was reminded of the warning Godfrey and Jasper had given him that spring.

  “To work then,” Edward declared, with a nod before heading to where the boys were already going through their sets.

  How could I have forgotten the threat? Because it’s been weeks, nay, months and nothing has happened. Nothing I’ve seen because I let them lull me into false comfort and security. Time to pay more attention. Perhaps time to talk with Godfrey and Jasper if possible. I’m sure they’ve seen things I slept through.

  He kept the boys at it until the rain had them all sliding in the mud. Sending them off, Edward went first to the smithy, hoping the two were still there. Recalling his lesson from before, Edward nodded at them and waited for them to take things further.

  “Dale can be trusted,” Godfrey finally said, moving closer. “Something wrong?”

  “I let myself forget the threat,” Edward spoke bluntly. “He didn’t act a threat so I – I—”

  “You let your mind ignore any,” stated the older man.

  “Aye,” sighed Edward. “It was as if I fell asleep.”

  “What woke you up?”

  “Our conversation this morning as we passed you two,” Edward stated, relaying what had been said.

  Dale whistled slightly and Jasper nodded. “Not the best thing to do, Ned, except for seeing his reaction.”

  “At least I saw it,” Edward said. “I nearly continued with what Celeste’s dowry would be.”

  All three men winced. Dale rolled his eyes.

  “Keep that to yourself,” advised Godfrey. “It’ll be public soon enough when the contract is read in three weeks.”

  At that soon-to-happen event the week before the wedding, Edward grinned. Godfrey groaned and shook his head.

  “Fools in love,” he muttered. “Sloppy fools in love. Have you ever seen the like?”

  “Aye,” Dale commented.

  As Edward looked at him, Dale jerked his head toward Jasper. The knight lowered his chin and his dark expression dared anyone to ask. Edward sensed from Godfrey’s sudden sorrowed eyes that he also knew the reason. While he hated being the only one who didn’t know, he kept his silence.

  A clatter of hooves outside had their heads turning. All words of conspiracies and plots left Edward as Celeste appeared.

  “I’ll have them saddle Storm,” Geoffrey offered with a grin, bouncing down from his perch and running out. “Good day, Miss!”

  “Good day, Geoffrey,” she laughed as Edward approached. Smiling as he patted Vespers neck, she wondered if any other woman ever felt so happy. “I was wondering if you had time for a ride, husband,” she murmured that last word.

  “Geoff ran to tell them get Storm,” he told her. “I was hoping you would come by. Did you leave Joan in charge of the manor?”

  Laughing, Celeste shook her head. “No, but I think John is finally realizing how dire things will become in a month’s time.”

  “His loss is very much my gain,” Edward murmured. Storm whinnied as he was brought out and he chuckled. “I think my stallion likes your mare nearly as much as I do you.”

  “Likes?” she echoed, smiling flirtatiously, turning the mare as he mounted. “Only likes, my lord and husband?”

  “Well, as much as horses have emotion,” he allowed.

  “As much as—” Exasperated, she groaned. “Vesper, let’s show these males they need more than emotion to catch us.”

  Eagerly, the mare jumped forward as Edward tried to settle the stallion.

  Those in the courtyard laughed as his mount didn’t wait to be told but raced after the pair.

  Laughing, Celeste headed for their private thicket north of York. She was sure it was known to others, but she’d never seen any recent signs of people. Ducking her head as she reached the trees, she glanced over her shoulder and saw that Edward had gained control of the stallion, but not slowed the pace.

  Joyfully, she smiled, knowing he would catch her, wrap his strong arms around her and kiss her, then scold her for being so daring as to risk her neck at that speed.

  “C’mon, girl,” she murmured, staying close to the mare’s neck. “Let’s beat them completely this time.”

  Vespers reached the thicket and Celeste had time to slow her to a walk to cross it when Edward and Storm thundered in. The stallion reared up slightly before planting his front hooves down. Edward dismounted and strode over to where she still sat on Vespers, laughing merrily.

  “We beat you,” she teased, then saw the fury in his expression.

  Reaching up, his strong hands caught her by the waist and pulled her from the saddle.

  “Edward,” she gasped.

  “You’ve been reckless but never like that,” he scolded, holding her close. “You narrowly missed two low branches.”

  “I was lower than that,” she protested.

  “I won’t lose you,” he vowed, a hand at the back of her head. “Celeste, do you hear me? I can’t lose you.”

  His mouth came down on hers, plunging, plundering, more aggressive than he had ever kissed her before. Startled, Celeste trembled in his embrace that didn’t end with his lips on hers.

  “Mine,” he muttered, mouth going along her neck. “Mine, mine, mine.”

  What has come over him? He’s never…

  Gasping as he pulled the lacy edge of her shift down and began kissing the tops of her breasts, Celeste felt her head spin. He pulled her down onto the grass, pinning her under him as he continued to kiss her neck and breasts. She could feel his hands on her clothes but couldn’t think to wonder. Then her bodice was tugged away, the soft linen pulled from her breasts and his mouth feasted on her. With a low cry, she arched against him, then realized he’d pulled her skirts up. Even as one of his hands kept her head still, the other moved between her legs.

  “Edward,” she panted. “We mustn’t.”

  “You’re my wife,” he growled, lifting his head enough to meet her gaze. “Mine. My reward in life.”

  His hand covered that most private of places and his mouth took one of her nipples inside. Overcome, Celeste surrendered.

  Edward’s arms held her securely and Celeste could hear the steady beat of his heart under her ear. He is my husband. In truth, as w
e said our vows before God and all of York. Oh, that I belong to a man like him. Unable to believe her luck, savoring the pleasure, she placed a light kiss on his chest. Biting her lower lip, she trailed her hand over his ribcage to his side, then slightly lower to where his semi-soft manhood rested after vigorous activity. Vigorous indeed. I wonder that all wives do not embrace marriage. Or perhaps their husbands are not so wonderful at such things? Her fingers brushed over him. At its twitch and hardening, she stroked him again, then daringly held her hand against him.

  “Something you want more of, sweetheart?” he whispered in her ear.

  “I thought you asleep,” she murmured.

  His warm chuckle in her ear made her shiver as he rolled over her. “Oh, no man could be still, be he sleeping or even dead, if your soft hand touched him there. And now that you’ve awakened me, sweeting, I want my wife again.”

  “A wife must submit to her husband,” Celeste sighed as his hands roamed her body.

  ◆◆◆

  London

  “Shouldn’t I be riding like a lady?” Rose wondered, clutching the saddle horn with both hands. Swallowing she kept her gaze between the gelding’s ears. “I know I’m not a lady, but—”

  The horse shifted and she squealed. Alicia laughed, reaching over and patting her shoulder.

  “You’ve a natural seat,” came the reassurance. “Are you sure you’ve never been on a horse?”

  “Alicia, I’m not sure about anything except that it’s a long way to the ground if I fall off,” Rose replied with more heat than she usually did in speaking to the older woman.

  “Tighten your thighs and you’ll feel more secure,” was the instruction.

  “I’d feel more secure if my feet were on the ground,” she muttered.

  Alicia chuckled. “Hold the reins like this,” she demonstrated. “This is a quiet one. One for first riders.”

  “There weren’t any shorter horses?” Rose asked plaintively, giving her a worried glance then eyeing the ground.

  “You’ll be fine,” stated Alicia, studying her. “You really do sit as if you’ve been on a horse before. Someday we have to figure out where you truly are from.”

  “I’m not sure I want the truth,” replied Rose.

  “Click your tongue,” Alicia told her. “Gently touch your heels to his ribs.”

  Obeying, Rose’s eyes widened as her mount moved forward. Alicia’s gelding did as well into what Rose realized was probably a very slow walk but as it wasn’t with her own feet Rose didn’t feel like it was slow.

  “The truth about one’s life is better than any lie,” Alicia told her.

  “But what if the truth means all my family is dead?” Rose whispered, fighting back tears. “Possibly killed in the fire I’ve been having dreams about?”

  “Then that is your truth,” the woman said quietly. “Truths are most often hard, terrible things for us all. Yet we must live with them.”

  “That could mean that people I think are my family aren’t,” Rose told her.

  “It might,” agreed Alicia. “But if they took you in, however or why ever they did, then they are still your family. You were brought into their home and they cared for you, right?”

  “Yes,” she nodded, then smiling a little. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. It’s not always blood that decides our family. You and Lady Anna are like the older sisters I always wished I could have.”

  “And you are as my little sister,” Alicia smiled. “Ready for something a little faster?”

  “Um,” Rose glanced at her horse who whinnied and nodded his head. “Really? She was asking me, not you.”

  “Touch your heels a bit harder and move with the horse’s body,” Alicia told her.

  “If I fall and break my head open,” Rose started.

  “Do it, now,” urged Alicia. “Let those memories return and teach you now.”

  Taking a deep breath, Rose obeyed. The image of a small courtyard. Her and a boy on ponies, trotting about as two men hold the leads and run next to them. As the horse picked up his pace, Rose heard their voices in her head. Relax and let your body move with the horse. Easy, that’s it. That’s my Rose!

  “Da,” she whispered. “Granda.”

  Before Alicia could react, Rose hit the horse with her heels. Startled, he jumped into a gallop. Gathering the reins in her hand, somehow knowing how to hold them, Rose leaned slightly forward, thighs tight but not locked and moved with her mount. A long-forgotten pleasure filled her as they raced across the meadow. Pulling up before the trees, she caught her breath and felt tears rolling down her cheeks. Wiping at them as Alicia caught up with her, Rose looked at her.

  “The old man was my grandfather,” she told her.

  “And the younger?” Alicia asked. “The one you think brought you to London?”

  “Not my father,” Rose shook her head. “My father had gray eyes like mine. Like my grandfather.”

  “Perhaps it was a friend of your father’s then,” suggested Alicia. “Mayhap he’s the one who brought you to safety here in London.”

  “Why didn’t he keep me with him then?” wondered Rose.

  “It wouldn’t be easy for a man with a young girl,” Alicia reminded her gently. “He may have wanted to but couldn’t.” She glanced about and saw they had the meadow to themselves. “Now that you’re older, he might come back. See how you are. Maybe take you back to where your family was from.”

  Rose considered that and sadly shook her head. “I’m not sure going back there would matter. My life is in London.” She gave the Frenchwoman a smile. “My new family is here.”

  “There’s this amazing thing about the future,” Alicia whispered dramatically. “We never know what’s going to happen. So, keep your mind and heart open, Rose. And, let’s see how you are at shooting.”

  “Shooting?” Rose stammered swinging down as Alicia did. “Like with a pistol?”

  “Well, not a bow and arrow,” Alicia chuckled.

  “Just don’t let me shoot you,” Rose pleaded. “I don’t think Lady Anna would like that.”

  Laughing, Alicia hugged her. “Nor would I.”

  Feeling a little achy in places she had never felt before, or didn’t remember, Rose still smiled as she headed up the back staircase. Alicia had been pleased with her riding and impressed by her shooting. Returning to Whitehall, Alicia had told Rose to return to their rooms while she spoke to the groom. Rose hadn’t needed to be told twice. Humming to herself, she knew she was getting stronger with all the training Alicia and Anna gave her. Now she would be quite content to curl up by the window and read the French. A hand covered Rose’s mouth as her arm was grabbed and she was pulled onto the floor before the Queen’s Maids level.

  “Ah, the lady’s gone,” a husky, eager voice whispered in her ear. “So now we can play since we all know she’s playing with the Welsh stud.”

  Struggling, Rose managed to ram her elbow in his ribs as she jammed her heel on his toes. His breath whooshed out and his grasp loosened enough for her to twist away. Panting, she turned and faced her assailant. Ralph. The boy from the kitchens. Or is he now a young man? I’ll worry about that later. If he grabs me again, I won’t be able to get free. He’s much stronger than I am.

  “Get away from me,” she ordered, crouching slightly and catching her skirts the way Alicia and Anna had taught her. “Get away and never come near me again.”

  “Oi don’t have to listen to the likes of you,” he taunted, stepping closer and forcing her to back up to the wall. “You think you’re all hoity-toity now that you’re working for one of the Queen’s ladies, do you? Well, you’re that,” he snapped his fingers in front of her face. “To the rest of us.”

  Lunging at her, Ralph grabbed at her shoulders. Jerking her skirt up, Rose firmed her stomach and kicked with her right leg. Her foot caught him on the hip and knocked him back a step. Given the opening, she dashed to the right. He flung an arm out and caught the back of her sleeve, spinning her around to face
him again.

  “You’ll pay for that,” he growled, strong fingers wrapping around her left upper arm.

  “So, will you,” she replied, drawing her knife with her right hand and slicing in one motion.

  “Hey,” he shouted, eyes widening as he released her and jumped away.

  Her blade skimmed across his front. Startled that she had fought back, had cut him, Ralph stared at her.

  “Get away from the door,” she ordered, gesturing him in the direction to move. “Go on. And don’t ever try that with any other maid. Because if I hear about, I’ll make sure you don’t have to worry about bothering anyone else again. You hear me?”

  “I hear you,” he whined, moving away from her and the door. “You lead me on though. You know you did.”

  Knife still in her hand, Rose pulled the door open and fled. Shaken by the encounter, she went down instead of up and ran through the first door. Hurrying down the hall, she couldn’t see anyone from the tears in her eyes. When two hands caught her shoulders and pulled her into an alcove, her instinct had her bring the knife up. Firm fingers caught her wrist and she kicked out.

  “Easy, Rose. It’s all right,” came the Welsh accent. “It’s me. It’s Daffyd.”

  Gasping, she stared at him. “Daffyd?” she breathed.

  “Remember me? From the training yard,” he reminded her. “Are you all right?” He frowned at her tear-streaked cheeks. “Who frightened you? Your sleeve is torn,” he said harshly. “Who attacked you?”

  “I got away,” she whispered, resting against the wall and lowering her hand with the knife. “Lady Anna and Alicia have been teaching me. I got away. I got away.”

  She closed her eyes as he muttered in Welsh.

  “Could you put your knife away?” Daffyd asked in a careful tone. “You go running through Whitehall with it and the guards might take it as a threat to the queen.”

  “Right,” she murmured, lifting the skirt to return it to the sheath sewn into her pocket.

  “Wait,” he said, reaching for it. “You drew blood. Where did you strike him?”

  “Oh, my God,” Rose breathed, staring at the bright drops. “I --,” she swallowed. “I just slashed at him. The blade went from my pocket and straight across and up. Hip to shoulder.”