The afternoon faded into evening and by the time the great banquet was served, Kassia felt herself trembling with weariness. She toyed with the vast variety of foods, sampling only the delicious stuffed pheasants and the creamed potatoes. The wine, she was certain, came from Aquitaine.
“The queen is very gracious,” she said to Graelam when he turned away from conversation with Lord John de Valance.
“Aye,” Graelam said. “ ’Tis the only love match amongst royalty I have heard of Eleanor saved Edward’s life in the Holy Land when he was attacked by an assassin with a poisoned dagger.”
“She killed the assassin?” Kassia asked, her eyes wide.
“Nay, Edward killed the man and collapsed. She sucked the poison from his arm. I was not present, but Jerval and Chandra were. Edward’s physicians were supposedly furious at the queen’s interference.”
She toyed for a moment with her goblet. “You knew Lady Chandra before she wed Sir Jerval?”
Graelam studied her averted profile. “Aye,” he said shortly.
“ ’Twas she who stabbed you in the shoulder?”
“She did not stab me. Actually, she flung the dagger from a goodly distance. Had she been less furious and closer to me, I would likely be dead.”
“How . . .” Kassia began, but Graelam’s attention was drawn back to Lord John. Questions flew about in her mind, but she had no opportunity to speak privately to Graelam until they arrived at their compound. To Kassia’s delight, Margaret had hot spiced wine awaiting them in their chamber.
“I feel like royalty with all this attention,” she said as she carefully removed the necklace.
Graelam stretched, rubbing his neck. “The ceremony went well. I am pleased that Edward is home again. We return tomorrow to the tower. I will be meeting with Edward along with many other nobles. You, Kassia, will become better acquainted with the ladies.”
He paused a moment. He had seen Lady Joanna, but had managed to avoid her. He supposed he was a fool for worrying that she would not be kind to Kassia.
“Graelam, would you tell me about Lady Chandra?”
He shrugged, and sat down in one of the high-backed chairs. “There is little to tell, but if you wish it . . . I had wanted to marry her, but her father, a Marcher baron—” he broke off a moment, seeing her confusion. “A Marcher baron is a noble whose holdings and fortresses defend the border of England from the Welsh. In any case, Lord Richard refused me. Through trickery, I managed to capture both Chandra and their castle of Croyland. She would have wed me, for I held her younger brother, save for the timely arrival of Jerval. I was routed and managed to leave with but a wound in my shoulder. Chandra’s father then forced her into marriage with Jerval, the son of a close friend of his.”
She was staring at him. “But you are all friends!”
“Now we are. Much happened in the Holy Land to . . . reconcile our differences. And from what I can tell, that is where Chandra decided to become a woman and return her husband’s love.”
Kassia fiddled with the fastenings on her gown. “Did you love her?”
Graelam stared into the glowing coals in the fireplace. “It was a long time ago. No, I did not love her, but I wanted her. She is unlike any woman I have ever known. She knows a man’s honor and a man’s loyalty.” He raised brooding eyes to her face. “She is capable only of truth. Aye, rare in a woman.”
Kassia sucked in her breath at the pain his words brought her. She walked slowly to the far corner of the chamber and began to remove her clothes. He watched her from beneath slitted eyelids, feeling a pang of guilt. He had spoken the truth about Chandra, but not all of it. Before she had fallen in love with Jerval, she had been more unbending than the most ruthless of men, spurning the meaning of compromise. Even now, Graelam imagined that Jerval waged a constant battle with his beautiful wife to keep control.
He sipped the warm wine, waiting for Kassia to get into bed. It was odd, he thought, but when he had seen Chandra, he had felt no rush of desire for her. Indeed, he had felt nothing save friendship for both her and Jerval. He saw a flash of soft white flesh before Kassia pulled the covers over herself. He shifted in his chair, angry at himself for the desire he felt for his wife. He thought about the intense passion he had felt for her the evening before, passion he had forced himself to ignore.
After a while Graelam rose to his feet and stripped off his clothes. He strode to the bed, lifting the lone candle high, and stared down at his wife. Her soft hair was spread about her head on the pillow, her mouth slightly open as she breathed evenly in sleep. Could he blame Dienwald de Fortenberry for being taken with such an apparently guileless, fragile girl? He slipped into bed, forcing himself to stay a goodly distance away from her.
Queen Eleanor sat among her chattering ladies in the solarium. The interested, attentive smile never left her face as she looked toward Kassia de Moreton. She continued to weave the intricate tapestry, watching the girl from the corner of her eye as Chandra de Vernon approached her.
Events might well prove interesting, she thought. Her ears perked up when she heard a snide comment from Lady Joanna, daughter of the Earl of Leichester.
“You should have seen her,” Joanna was saying to Lady Louise de Sanson, “when she first arrived at Wolffeton. I could tell that Lord Graelam was appalled, but of course there was nothing he could do about her.”
“He really married her on her deathbed?” Louise asked, her sloe eyes lighting avidly.
“Aye,” Joanna said. “The look on his face when the skinny little thing arrived, looking for the world like a dirty little boy! And her hair so short!”
“Scandalous,” Louise agreed.
“You can see that she has not much improved,” Joanna said maliciously.
Eleanor, seeing that other ladies were beginning to listen and then cast furtive glances toward Kassia de Moreton, decided it was time to intervene. “I think her quite lovely,” she said in a soft, quite clear voice. “Lord Graelam is most lucky.”
Joanna paused a moment, judging the waters. She said in a hushed whisper that carried a goodly distance, “But that is not what Lord Graelam thinks, your highness. I was told by Lady Blanche de Blasis, the half-sister of Graelam’s first wife, that Lady Kassia even tried to escape him. It would not appear that he made such a good bargain.”
The whispering had reached Kassia’s sensitive ears and she was flushed with anger even as she tried to heed Lady Chandra’s words. Suddenly Chandra’s strong fingers closed over her arm. “Leave the bitch to me,” Chandra said, and strode toward the little group.
“Ah, Lady Joanna! I understand that you were to be married. How very unfortunate for you that the groom escaped.”
Queen Eleanor hid a smile behind her hand.
There was a loud rustling of silk skirts as the ladies moved closer.
Joanna knew of Chandra only by reputation. She had believed that she must be an Amazon, but faced with the beautiful creature staring at her with contempt, she was forced to revise her opinion. “My father is relieved that I did not marry Lord Graelam.” She gave a small shudder. “He did not wish me to be immured in Cornwall.”
“But how terribly embarrassing for you, dear Joanna,” Chandra continued in mock sympathy. “To be turned away from your first choice.”
“Graelam had no choice!” Joanna said in a shrill voice. “He was forced to keep her!”
Kassia moved quietly to stand beside Chandra. She could not allow Chandra to defend her, as if she were naught but a frightened little mouse!
“He did have a choice, Joanna,” Kassia said. “You see, our marriage had not been consummated.”
“Then why did you try to escape him?” Louise said, honestly confused.
“I believe,” Kassia said slowly, “that Lady Blanche claims this as a fact. It is not true. I owe my . . . loyalty to my husband and always will.”
“How you have changed your stance!” Why am I still baiting her? Do I so fear that Graelam will learn that I was the one responsible? It was
true, Blanche admitted to herself as she watched Kassia whirl about at the sound of her sarcastic words. She feared Graelam would take revenge upon Guy.
“Blanche . . .” Kassia murmured.
Very soon, Eleanor thought, this gathering will degenerate into a true debacle. She set aside her thread and rose from her chair. “Ladies, I believe it is time for me to tell you of the court in Sicily. And I will show you some of the treasures I brought back with me.”
“Come,” Chandra said quietly to Kassia. “If I stay longer, I will break Joanna’s neck! And perhaps Blanche’s arm!”
“Why did you defend me?” Kassia asked. “You do not know me.”
“A penchant for fairness,” Chandra said. “Joanna. from what I hear, is a vicious, mean-spirited bitch. Graelam would likely have killed her had he married her.”
Kassia said slowly, “You sound as though you have forgiven Graelam for what he tried to do to you.”
“So he told you about that, did he?”
“Aye, I asked him last night. He much admires you.”
“Well,” Chandra said after a moment, “had we wed, I do not know who would have survived! Graelam is used to ruling all within his power. He will not tolerate his wishes gainsaid. And unfortunately, he cannot seem to accept a woman’s going against him in anything. Am I right?”
“Aye,” Kassia said forlornly, “you are right. There was a time when I believed that he—” She broke off, biting her lip. “It matters not. Nothing will change his opinion of me now.”
“Walk with me,” Chandra said. “I would hear about this adventure of yours.”
“ . . . and so I cannot blame Dienwald for escaping,” Kassia concluded after some time. “Graelam would have killed him. And now Blanche is here, and still persists in despising me. There is nothing I can do or say to convince him otherwise!”
“Hmmm,” Chandra said.
“If I were more like you,” Kassia burst out, “he would likely love me! At least he might believe me, for he spoke about your honor and your honesty.”
Chandra smiled down at Kassia. “I have an idea,” she said. “Why do you not come with me to the archery range. I have a contest with the king tomorrow and must practice. And while I am at it, I can show you how to shoot.”
28
“You are meddling, and I do not like it.”
Lady Chandra de Vernon snuggled closer to her husband. “But she is innocent, Jerval,” she protested mildly, drawing in her breath as her husband’s hand roved down over her belly. “I only wish to help.”
“She does bring out one’s protective instincts,” Jerval said.
“Aye, but do not think she is a fragile helpless little flower. There is a core of strength in her, I think. She will bend, but will not break. If only Graelam were not such a—”
“Proud, cynical, arrogant, distrustful—”
“All of those things, I suppose,” Chandra said on a sigh. “You should have seen her on the archery range this afternoon. She looked at my bow as if it were a snake that would bite her. But she quickly got over that! She hasn’t much physical strength, but she does have a good eye and a steady hand.”
“So you would turn her into a warrior?”
“If you laugh, Jerval, I will take a dagger to your . . . well, you will regret it!”
“Just remember, my love,” Jerval said softly, drawing her into his arms, “if that dagger of yours strikes, you will lose also. I will make you a bargain. I will speak to Graelam tomorrow, and also Sir Guy de Blasis. He seems a decent man.”
“I cannot say that much for his wife!”
“Hush now, woman. I wish to have my way with you.”
“I wonder,” Chandra said before succumbing to her husband, “what Blanche is saying to her husband. Do you believe he knows the truth?”
Sir Guy knew all there was to know about his bride. He had realized even before he had tricked her into marrying him that her relentless pursuit of Graelam had been primarily because of her fear for her son’s future. Well, perhaps not entirely, he quickly amended to himself, grimacing a little. But Evian’s future was now assured. Guy felt a good deal of affection for her, even enjoyed her tirades, for he knew that once in bed, she would forget everything but him. She was a passionate woman, one who was not always logical, and, unfortunately, quite single-minded. But that would change. He smiled at her now, lazily, listening to her rant. She never bored him.
“I do not want to be pregnant!”
“But you are, my dear,” he said mildly, “and you will remain that way. After you have given me two or three sons, I will allow you to take that vile potion again.”
“You are a beast!”
“A virile beast, it appears. I should keep you in bed all the time—it would save your temper and my ears and patience.”
“I do not want to be ugly, fat, and swollen! I do not want the pain of birthing another child!”
“Blanche,” he said, leaning over the small table between them, “I am truly sorry about the birthing pain. If I could prevent it, I would, but I cannot. As to your appearing ugly, you are being foolish. You will see that my desire for you will not diminish. You are my wife and my lover. It will remain thus, I promise you.”
“I am not a fool, Guy,” she said in a low, taut voice.
“I trust not, at least not anymore.”
She jumped to her feet, splaying her hands on the table. “I know why you married me! ’Tis that skinny little girl you love, not me!” She paled as the words poured out of her mouth, and she whirled about, presenting him her back.
Guy leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head. “At last,” he said with deep satisfaction. “You have finally admitted it.”
“I . . . I have admitted nothing! Admitted what?”
“That you love me, of course. It warms my heart, Blanche. Do you not realize there is no need for you to insult Kassia further?”
At her silence, he added softly, “Please turn around, my love.”
Blanche slowly swung about, but she kept her face lowered, her eyes on her soft leather slippers.
“You are doubtless the most stubborn woman in England. Come, love, at least yell at me.”
“I am not stubborn, and she was with that bitch Chandra de Vernon!”
“Are all the ladies at court bitches, Blanche? My poor love, how very trying for you.”
“I must admit that I did not like being in Joanna’s company,” she said grudgingly.
“Forced to take sides, my dear? And, it appears, you have chosen the wrong one, again.”
She wanted to tell him that she had baited Kassia because she was afraid for him. Afraid of what Graelam would do if he discovered her perfidy. I have been fine and fairly won, she thought. I love him, yet I am afraid to tell him so. Afraid that he really thinks me a spiteful witch.
Guy rose and walked to her, clasping her shoulders in his hands and shaking her a little. “Listen to me, wife. It is time for you to forget Graelam, Kassia, and Wolffeton. To forget your disappointment. It is time, you know, for you to accept me as your husband.” He paused a moment, examining his thoughts to make them into words. “I do not love Kassia. I felt protective of her, for a more innocent maid I have yet to see. But I wanted you, Blanche, despite what you did.” He shrugged, and added honestly, “I gained you, and saved Kassia from further of your . . . machinations.”
Her eyes flew to his face. “I . . . I did nothing!” Can I never cease lying?
He lightly caressed his fingertips over her lips. “I am not blind, love. There is no reason for you to pretend to me. I will admit that it would please me mightily if you would willingly go to Graelam and tell him the truth.” His eyes darkened, narrowing in thought. “Of course, Graelam, being as blind as he appears to be when it comes to women, would likely assume that I put you up to it. And seeing you soft and lovely from my attentions, I could not blame him. Perhaps ‘tis best to leave matters as they are, at least for the time being. I have a feeling t
hat they will work out things between them without any more of your interference, or mine. But attend me, Blanche. I will not allow you to direct any more mischief toward Kassia. Do you understand me?”
“I cannot help but understand you! You are a brute and a braggart, but I won’t believe you!”
He did not release her, but sighed deeply. “Perhaps in five or ten years you will come to believe me. Together, Blanche, you and I will build Chitterly into a great holding.” He chuckled, and leaned down to kiss her lips lightly. “Our children will never believe their mother a spineless wench.”
“You mock me, Guy,” she muttered, “and you are slippery as the wettest fish. I do not like you.”
“Nay, but you love me. I will accept that for a while. I trust that you will not go against my wishes.”
“You would likely beat me if I did.”
He touched his hand to her slightly rounded belly. “No, but I would find other ways to punish you.”
She buried her face against his shoulder. “I do not mean to say bad things, Guy,” she whispered. “I was just so . . . afraid.”
He kissed her temple. “But not now. Not ever again. And, love, I enjoy your fishwife’s tongue.” He felt her stiffen in protest, and quickly said, “Now I will take you to bed and make you forget everything but your passion and your love for me.”
The afternoon was clear and sunny, the air crisp. Lords and ladies were gathered in the huge tower courtyard to see the competition between King Edward and Lady Chandra de Vernon. Graelam left Kassia with the queen and joined Jerval de Vernon and his friend Sir Mark. There was much good-natured jesting and prodding until Jerval tore off part of his tunic sleeve. “An adequate favor for my lady?” he asked, and the men dissolved into more laughter.
“My lord is quite cocky,” Queen Eleanor said with a smile, “but I think he will soon become quite serious about it all. You watched Chandra practicing yesterday, Kassia?”
“She is unbelievable,” Kassia said. “I never dreamed that a woman could be so . . .” She sought vainly for a word.
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