by Ida Curtis
“I’m sorry,” she offered.
“There is no need to be sorry,” he replied. “We haven’t been involved for a long time. You have old news.
“I know a betrothal sounds mad, Gilda. But I really couldn’t think of what else to do. It’s my fault that your reputation is threatened. I want to make things right, and I think my plan can work.”
Gilda sighed, finally accepting that he had done the best he could. But she still worried about how the plan would succeed. “How did you explain the fact that I’m still a nun if I’m betrothed to you?”
“You haven’t taken your final vows. You grew up in the convent, and your father’s manor is far away. It’s a safe place for you to stay until we’re married. The match is still being finalized.”
Her eyes widened. “You make it sound so reasonable.”
“I believe we should think of the betrothal as real.” He glanced over to Freda, remembering that Gilda had discussed the situation with the nun. “There is an attraction between us, as we’ve already discussed. It’s probably one of the reasons we are in this tangle. When the attraction fades, it will be easier to break off the betrothal.”
Gilda sat beside Freda. “What do you think of Justin’s plan?”
“It could work.” Her words surprised both Justin and Gilda. “But what about the fact that you are supposed to be looking into Cedric’s desire for an annulment of his marriage? How would your betrothal affect that task, Justin?”
“We were appointed by the king. In addition, I doubt Cedric would object unless it appeared he wouldn’t get his way. So far neither party has shown any desire to continue the marriage,” Justin replied.
Freda nodded. “I have one suggestion. You should think of a reason why you are delaying the marriage. I will leave you to discuss the matter. Come to bed soon, Gilda.”
Justin sat down on the opposite side of the small room from Gilda. Because she avoided looking at him, he was able to study her small figure. He struggled with the urge to sit beside her and put his arm around her. Then he smiled when he remembered her lack of restraint in touching him.
“Is it so terrible, the thought of being betrothed to me?” he asked.
She looked up then. “It’s a deception, Justin.”
“What if it wasn’t? What if we made it real?”
Gilda searched his face. “You mean until the attraction dies?” she whispered.
He stood up and walked across the room to sit beside her. “Marriages are seldom contracted on the basis of attraction,” he reminded her. “Can we agree that we’ll enter into a real betrothal? Neither of us had thought of marrying, I know, but it has its advantages. Having children is one of them,” he said, thinking of the baby for whom they had become godparents.
Gilda’s mouth dropped open at his last words, and Justin grinned. “I’m thinking this through as I speak, a method I don’t usually consider advisable.” He paused, wondering if he was mad, as she suggested. “Perhaps we could have a trial betrothal and get to know each other. Then we can decide whether we wish to go further. We can keep the plan to ourselves, as no one is likely to understand.”
It was a novel idea. But it appealed to Gilda for several reasons. They wouldn’t be lying, and their relationship would be settled. They could concentrate on why they had come to Mainz.
Gilda nodded. “It seems a reasonable plan. Our relationship has already caused too much distraction. By pointing out our connection, the count’s brother has clouded the issue of why he was at Saint Ives. That’s what we should be thinking about. Philip clearly went in search of Mariel, and he didn’t tell his brother.”
Although Justin was relieved Gilda had agreed to his suggestion, he couldn’t help being disappointed that she switched subjects so quickly. “You’re right, Gilda. Let’s go to our rooms, meet in the morning, and work on that problem.”
Freda had been awake when Gilda entered their room, but as soon as she saw Gilda, she rolled over and went to sleep. Gilda was unable to do the same. She found it hard to stop her mind from thinking about all that had happened since Justin had offered her an apple for breakfast. The gesture beside the stream now seemed a symbol of the temptation he was turning out to be.
The betrothal was as good as accomplished. Gilda knew her brother would not object to the match. Isabel had been promoting it since she had first seen Justin and Gilda together. Although Gilda hoped it would settle matters between them to have a trial betrothal, she suspected Justin might have second thoughts in the morning. She certainly had them already.
In order to banish the subject from her mind, she turned her thoughts to Lady Mariel and why Philip might have traveled to Saint Ives without his brother’s knowledge. It puzzled her that Mariel had taken the sleeping potion. Her explanation seemed false. Even if Mariel had been having trouble sleeping, why would she have taken the potion at the shed? When they found her, she had been lying on the pallet, peacefully laid out and elegantly attired.
Gilda sprang up in bed and threw off the cover. Pausing only to grab a wrap to put around her shoulders, she rushed out of her room and across the outer chamber, and knocked on Justin’s door. When there was no reply, she pushed the door open and called, “Justin, wake up.”
There was a candle burning by an empty bed, and she wondered where Justin could be. Then she heard a muffled curse from another bed in the far corner. She thought she recognized Justin’s voice, but instead of answering her he pulled a blanket over his head.
Tripping over a pair of boots as she made her way to his bed, Gilda mumbled the same curse she heard him use. Impatient with his lack of response, Gilda yanked the blanket off his head.
“Justin, I have something to tell you. Wake up.”
“This had better be good,” Justin said as he sat up.
When his blanket fell away, Gilda could see his bare chest covered with curly brown hair and framed by white shoulders that seemed very broad. She suddenly doubted the wisdom of her actions and stepped back, only to trip over the same boots she had stumbled on earlier.
As she sat on the floor staring up at him, Gilda said, “You should put your boots under the bed.” Then as he started to rise from his bed, she almost shouted, “No, no, don’t get up.”
Justin paid no attention to her plea. Gilda was so relieved to see he was wearing tights that she accepted the hand he extended to her. He pulled her up against him, and her cheek touched his hard chest before she could move away.
“Have you come to seal our betrothal with a kiss, Gilda?” he whispered.
One of Justin’s hands went into her hair and the other behind her back. He leaned down until his lips found hers. His movements were so slow she could have moved away at any point. But she was mesmerized, unwilling to give up the opportunity to feel his arms around her once more. The kiss was tender. It made her knees weak, and she leaned into him. When his lips applied more pressure, she welcomed that, too, and wrapped her arms around his waist, unable to get close enough.
When Justin’s lips left hers, Gilda moaned her disappointment. Then he leaned down again and picked her up in his arms. When he turned to lay her gently on his bed, Gilda realized his intent, and reason returned. She scrambled away to the other side of the bed and almost fell to the floor.
Justin saw the alarm on her face and kept his distance. “You didn’t come to seal our betrothal with a kiss, did you, Gilda?”
His voice was so hoarse she hardly recognized it. Afraid to speak, she shook her head.
Justin could feel his heart pounding. He moved away from the bed and pulled on a shirt to give himself time to regain control of his emotions. Then he sat on the other bed.
“Why are you here, Gilda?”
She thought about saying she had lost her mind, but Justin’s narrowed eyes told her he was in no mood for jesting. “I remembered something,” she said. “I was thinking about the sleeping potion that Mariel took. She had a difficult time waking up, remember? When she did, she saw you sleeping
at her side and did a curious thing. She grabbed your arm and turned you over. Remember how shocked she was to see you?”
He nodded, trying to ignore the picture she presented on his bed. She was calmer now and leaned toward him with excitement in her eyes. He tried to concentrate on what she was saying.
“Justin, I think she was expecting to see Philip. He didn’t follow you to the shed. She had arranged to meet him there and took the sleeping potion to calm her nerves. I had mentioned that it was also used for that purpose. She must have taken too much.”
Instead of answering her, Justin rubbed his face with both hands.
“What do you think?” she urged.
“It’s hard for me to think right now, Gilda. You may be right, and it could explain why Philip was so agitated. We’ll talk more about this in the morning.”
Gilda nodded, feeling foolish that she had rushed to his room in the middle of the night. Being careful to stay as far away from him as possible, she slipped off the end of his bed. “Where’s Leonardo?” she asked as she passed the empty bed on her way to the door.
“Out enjoying himself in someone else’s bed, no doubt. Leonardo makes friends easily. Fortunate man,” Justin muttered.
Gilda couldn’t help glancing back to Justin’s bed. Then she turned away and opened the chamber door. Justin moved quickly, and his hand touched her shoulder. “Don’t come into my room again, unless you’re prepared to join me in bed.”
Before Gilda could respond, he pushed her through the door and closed it firmly behind her.
CHAPTER FOUR
Gilda and Justin hurried along a narrow hallway. Since awakening, they had avoided each other as much as was possible. Before they’d had a chance to overcome their awkwardness and discuss how they would handle the interview with Cedric, a messenger arrived to summon them to the count’s chambers.
When Justin’s sleeve brushed hers, Gilda stole a glance at his brooding expression. She still remembered the feel of Justin’s hand on her back as he pushed her from his room last night. The memory made it difficult for her to concentrate on the task before them. She wondered if it was as clear to Justin as it was to her that their personal feelings threatened their ability to work together efficiently.
“Don’t say anything about Philip’s appearance at the abbey,” Justin said in a low voice. “Let me handle it.”
“Of course,” Gilda conceded. Then she couldn’t help but add, “Try to discover the connection between Philip and Lady Mariel.”
Justin was still frowning when Count Cedric greeted him. “Thank you for coming right away, Lord Justin. I wish to apologize for the scene at the table last night. My brother was a bit distraught.”
Count Cedric turned his attention to Gilda. She had hung back, waiting for her presence to be acknowledged. Justin couldn’t help but wonder how she managed to look so appealing in a dark habit that covered her from head to toe. The black head covering framed her face so that her delicately formed features resembled an ivory cameo.
It was clear that Count Cedric was unsure how to address her. “Lord Justin has told me you and he are betrothed, my lady. I must say the situation is confusing.”
“That’s understandable, my lord. I was educated at the Convent of Saint Ives, and it has been my home for many years. The prospect of marriage occurred suddenly.” That was certainly the truth, and she hoped she could leave it at that.
But their host was clearly not satisfied with her answer. “King Louis has appointed the two of you to investigate my request for an annulment. I had assumed you were the religious envoy.”
“I’m still a nun and part of the religious community until I take my leave or marry.” She looked at Justin, hoping he would help her out.
He read and answered the silent plea in her eyes. “You can rest assured that Sister Gilda is qualified for this task. At court she is well known for her work with women who have taken refuge at the convent. In addition, she has a special understanding of the religious procedures necessary to annul a marriage.”
Gilda was both pleased and surprised by Justin’s words. She tried to suppress the smile that tugged at her mouth.
“Is the king aware of your betrothal?” Cedric directed his question to Justin.
“No. Although we have known each other for some time, as Gilda’s brother is married to my sister, our betrothal happened rather suddenly, as Gilda said. We are keeping the betrothal a secret until her father can give final approval. In the meantime, Sister Gilda wishes to finish the task assigned her by the king.”
His explanation had Gilda clasping her hands together under her long black sleeves. Justin’s reply was stretching the truth more than she liked. As she watched for Count Cedric’s reaction, Gilda realized how much she wanted to fulfill the role she had been given. It was not often that King Louis chose a woman to be his religious emissary, and she wished to be worthy of the honor.
When Cedric nodded and said, “Let’s proceed with the reason you are both here,” Gilda breathed a sigh of relief.
Cedric waved them to a bench, then took his chair behind a writing table. “If Charlemagne were still alive there would be no need for this interview. Louis goes too far,” he mumbled as he made himself comfortable.
Gilda remembered Freda’s words on the subject. Clearly Cedric agreed with Freda that the king was overzealous in his desire to enforce strict adherence to the papal restrictions on dissolving a marriage. Although the Franks prided themselves on being Christian, in the past their marriage customs differed from those imposed by Rome. She imagined both Freda and Cedric considered themselves good Christians in spite of their opposition to the changes sought by Louis.
Having made his complaint clear, Cedric explained his own situation. “My wife has fled, deserting me and her responsibilities. She joined a religious retreat, then refused to return home. The marriage was a mistake, and I have asked for an annulment from the Bishop of Mainz. That should be the end of it.”
“As I’m sure the bishop has informed you, staying overlong at a religious retreat is not grounds for an annulment, my lord. On what grounds do you seek an annulment?”
Before answering Justin’s question, Cedric glanced toward Gilda. Her head was bowed in what she hoped was an attitude to encourage frank discussion. She could have assured the count that there were no intimate details of marriage that she hadn’t heard about during her work with women at the convent. But she knew that wouldn’t be wise. Instead she tried to be as invisible as possible. She would leave the questioning to Justin and hope he covered the areas that were important.
The count seemed to have decided to be frank. “Our marriage was never consummated. Lady Mariel claimed the marriage was made under false pretenses, and she refused to honor her vows.”
Cedric’s words gave Justin pause. If what the count said was true, there should be little trouble in obtaining an annulment. But there seemed to be more to the case. “Are you saying that Lady Mariel felt deceived in some way?” he asked.
“That’s what she said. She would have nothing to do with me and kept her bedroom door barred against me.”
“What reason did she give for her behavior?”
It was clear they were approaching a subject with which Cedric felt uncomfortable as he turned to look out the window before continuing. Finally, he said, “Lady Mariel is from Bordeaux, where she lived with her father. His wife died some years ago, and he kept Mariel at home rather than sending her away to be educated. Until she was married, she never left her father’s manor. She is an unworldly creature. Sometimes I wonder if she isn’t demented. Perhaps that’s why her father kept her at home.”
The count seemed to be wandering in his explanation and Justin wondered why. “Do you honestly believe there is something wrong with Lady Mariel’s mind?” he asked.
“No, no. I’m just frustrated by her wild antics. She is young, fourteen years, but my first wife was only twelve.” He pushed his fingers through his gray hair. “My marriage
to Mariel was arranged between her father and myself at Aachen during the Spring Assembly. Because I was unable to travel to Bordeaux, which is quite a distance from here, I sent my brother Philip in my place for the marriage ceremony.”
Gilda had to fight to keep her eyes lowered. No wonder the count was reluctant to tell them the full story. Such a practice was common at one time but had fallen out of favor. It certainly explained the beginning of the connection between Mariel and Philip.
The count shook his head before continuing. “Lady Mariel claimed she was led to believe she was marrying Philip. Which is ridiculous, as Philip will tell you. He is much younger than I am, of course, the son of my father’s second wife. Perhaps Mariel believed I would be younger, but there can be no way she could have believed she was marrying Philip. It was just an excuse to keep me from our marriage bed.”
Justin was sure that Cedric was well aware that such errors and excuses were the reason the practice of using a surrogate in a marriage ceremony had been discontinued. “Did Lady Mariel make this claim as soon as she arrived in Mainz or after she had been here a while?”
“She was confused and tired when she first arrived. I left her alone for some weeks.” His eyes darted over to Gilda, then back to Justin. “It was only when I attempted to make her my wife that she came up with her wild story.”
Because Cedric was becoming more and more uncomfortable, Justin decided to change the subject from the marriage bed. “Did Philip explain to you why he went to the Abbey of Saint Ives without your knowledge?”
“Yes, he did. He said he hoped to speak to Lady Mariel and convince her to return to Mainz and honor her marriage vows. He didn’t tell me about it because she avoided speaking with him. He felt as though he had failed in his mission. He is a bit impulsive, and I apologize again for the way he attacked your reputation at the table.” Cedric glanced toward Gilda again. “I believe he was extremely distressed by the confusion Mariel felt about the marriage.”