by Shari Anton
“Oh, no, Geoffrey. I believe those missives are quite genuine communications between a Scotsman and Englishman.”
Geoffrey softly asked, “Who?”
John firmly answered, “The Scot? I know not. The Englishman? Kenworth.”
Roland could hardly believe what he heard. “Kenworth used missives sent to him to frame you?”
John nodded. “As I said, there are no names mentioned, a precaution to protect both parties, I assume. I have no notion of who the Scot is, but I do know they were sent to Kenworth.”
“How?”
“Brother Walter. When he confessed and warned me of Kenworth’s plan to arrest me in my own home, he did a thorough job of that, too.”
Eloise put her face in her hands. “I had the monk right there. All I had to do was hide him away until … ”
“Nay, Eloise, ’twas best you did not,” John said. “If the monk were not available to greet Kenworth, he would have known immediately that more was amiss than my absence.”
“Well, he was not there to greet the earl. The monk took himself off to hide for two days. Roland finally found him and turned him over to Kenworth.”
“How did he explain himself?”
“Whatever he said, he said to Kenworth alone. Brother Walter refused to talk to me, vowing he would say nothing of the whole affair without your permission. Drove me witless.”
John smiled at that. “I imagine it did. Roland, did he speak to you at all?”
“Nay, not a word. Nor did Kenworth comment on it.” Roland couldn’t withhold a chuckle. “It just occurred to me. On the way to Lelleford, Kenworth was so sure he could simply ride through the gate and apprehend you. Now I know why. He knew you to be at home because the monk likely confirmed your schedule. No wonder Kenworth went into a fury when you weren’t there. By all that is holy, I should like to have heard what went through his mind when he could not find the scrolls either.”
John smiled. “The vision of that moment has crossed my mind many times. It still amuses me.”
“Father, this is no time for amusement.”
“Nay, Daughter, probably not. But I am still amused, and I will not be denied what little joy I can find in this mess.”
She sighed. “I beg pardon. What I should like to know is why you went to Lancaster. Roland once said he thought you should have gone to the king.”
“I almost did, but perhaps ’tis a good thing I did not. Edward may have hung me on the spot when I showed up with those scrolls. Lancaster gave me sanctuary”—he glanced about the comfortable chamber with the locked door—“such as it is. And for that he earned Edward’s ire. Lancaster has tried to obtain an audience with Edward, but the king refuses to see him. So Lancaster advises patience, until either Edward lets go his pique, or Kenworth makes a bold move.”
Eloise huffed. “ ’Tis easy for an earl to advise patience. He is not sitting in Baliol’s Tower.”
Geoffrey leaned back in his chair. “Lancaster will try to convince the king of Kenworth’s involvement?”
John shook his head. “Not immediately. First he wants to see what is contained in the missive in Edward’s possession.”
Roland tried to ignore the itch at the back of his neck, but it refused to go away even when he rubbed at it.
“What disturbs you, Roland?” Geoffrey asked.
Perceptive man, which likely made him a good lawyer.
“Edward told me of that missive, but not what it contained, only that on the strength of it he was sending Kenworth to capture John, and me to oversee your holdings. I fear that missive may be more damaging than those you have seen, Sir John.”
“That is what Lancaster wants to know before we take further steps.”
He should keep his mouth shut. He shouldn’t make any offer that might land him in more trouble than he might already be with King Edward over abandoning his duty at Lelleford to chase after Eloise. What he’d originally planned as no more than an overnight absence had stretched out for several days. That he left with good intentions, leaving the holding under Simon and Marcus’s capable supervision, or that he’d delayed returning to give his squire more time to heal from his beating, might not appease royal ire.
Except Eloise looked so forlorn he could barely stand to look at her without wanting to wrap her in his arms and soothe the worry away. If he didn’t help give her father back to her, he’d never be able to live with himself.
Perhaps, when she someday looked back at this horrible time in her life, she would remember him fondly for this one deed alone.
“King Edward will see me.”
Four pairs of eyes stared at him. Edgar excited, Geoffrey and John wary, Eloise … worshipful. As if he’d just handed her a dream come true. Roland hoped he could deliver what she hoped for—her father’s freedom. The best he could do was let John and Geoffrey know what they faced—if Edward allowed him to see the missive.
“I truly should have gone to see the king when I first arrived in London, let him know the circumstances under which I left Lelleford. Then we suffered the attack, and I could not leave Eloise alone, nor did I dare take her with me into the king’s presence.”
“Why ever not?” Eloise asked, all innocence.
“Because if you think an earl can be a danger, you do not wish to know what a king is capable of when crossed.”
“Oh.” She glanced down at her hands in her lap, then peered up at him through her long lashes. “You propose to place yourself in a precarious position. If Edward takes exception to your meddling, you jeopardize your future in royal service.”
“I did that several days ago when I left Lelleford. Whether or not Edward allows me to see the missive, I should still go and explain myself to him.”
John rose from his chair, stood before him. “My children are convinced I should trust you, and so I shall. If you truly mean to do this, be very careful, Roland. A king’s wrath can be heinous.”
“I am well aware of that, Sir John.”
“Then Godspeed, lad.”
Geoffrey rose. “Then there is no more we can do until after Roland talks to the king. I do not know about the rest of you, but I have missed several meals in the past few days and am starving. Eloise, Roland, might I treat you to a bite to eat?”
’Twas just enough to break the heavy tension in the room, and Roland silently thanked Geoffrey for getting them out of the Tower. His head spun with the ramifications of what he’d done, but how could he have done otherwise?
Once down at the barbican, Roland collected his weapons, then handed over his scabbard and sword to Geoffrey, who toted only a dagger.
Geoffrey stared at the scabbard now in his hand. “Why give me this?”
“You know how to use it, I assume.”
“Aye.”
“Take Eloise back to the room. She can show you from which vendor to purchase the tastiest meat pies in London.”
For the first time since their lovemaking, Eloise touched him, her fingers to his arm. “Where are you going?”
“Westminster Palace.”
“So soon?”
“May as well get it done.”
And then she was in his arms, holding tight, as if they had every right in the world to embrace on a public street. Roland buried his face in her hair, lost himself in the exotically sweet scent of her he’d never been able to identify.
She felt of heaven, smelled of forever, neither of which were his to grab hold of.
“You will be careful,” she whispered.
“On my honor.”
“I—” She swallowed. “We will buy you a pie for your supper. Hurry back.”
Chapter Sixteen
ELOISE TUCKED her hand into the crook of her brother’s arm, grateful for the support. She needed to feel close to someone right now and her brother was the perfect choice.
She could hardly believe Roland made the offer to speak with the king, then left to get it done so soon. He put himself in a precarious position, yet he seemed confide
nt … but then, didn’t he always? And so far wasn’t that confidence warranted?
Perhaps she worried overmuch.
Certes, she shouldn’t have hugged him, but how else could she show her appreciation for involving himself in this most crucial plan to prove her father’s innocence? ’Struth, hadn’t she truly hugged him in a vain effort to hold him back, keep him from possible dangers?
Ye gods, if the king took exception to Roland’s meddling, he could end up in a chamber in the Tower of London, too. Then she’d have two men she loved locked away.
“He will be fine, Eloise.”
“Can you read minds now?”
“You think loudly, and your hold on my arm reveals your upset.”
And her unconventional hug for Roland gave Geoffrey a clear indication of who she presently worried over. Eloise loosened her grip enough to prevent nail marks in her brother’s arm.
Geoffrey patted her hand. “He surprised me with his offer.”
Roland stunned them all, Father the most.
“Surprised me, too. I knew he was upset by Timothy’s beating. He blames himself for not looking after the lad.”
Roland had been in bed with her, a place he shouldn’t have been, making love, which they shouldn’t have done. Now Roland suffered pangs of conscience for both.
Geoffrey stopped walking and looked down at her as if she were an exasperating child. “He involves himself because of you, Eloise, only in part for Timothy.”
“I believe you are mistaken.”
Geoffrey shook his head and began walking again. “The last time we spoke of Roland St. Marten, you described him as a disgusting toad. You have apparently changed your opinion.”
Eloise remembered that short conversation with Geoffrey in the hallway at Lelleford. “I was angry with Roland. He had told Hugh he thought me too brazen to make a suitable wife. All I could hear was his disapproval of me, and so …”
“He became a disgusting toad. I understand. What changed your mind?”
Eloise took a long breath. “Roland. He loved Hugh. Had I truly been listening I would have realized he was only concerned for his brother. I might have been too hasty to take offense.”
She shouldn’t have been listening at all, and had judged Roland too quickly on snippets of their conversation.
“So Roland has proved himself worthy of your regard.”
“Many times over. He can be gallant or firm, as the situation calls for it. He is honorable, loyal to the king. Did you know he was knighted for bravery on the battlefield?”
“Was he?”
“Guarded the king’s back, so I understand. And he has an easy way with children, and both Simon and Marcus trusted him right away. And—”
“I get your message. A true paragon of knighthood. Ah, I smell meat pies.”
She let go of Geoffrey’s arm so he could make the purchase. Four pies. Theirs, one for Roland, the last for Timothy.
Geoffrey wore a disturbed expression, and Eloise realized she rambled on more than she ought. Especially after Geoffrey had seen her embrace Roland. She offered to carry the pies as she did when Roland wore his sword. A man couldn’t properly draw one, if the need arose, with his hands full.
They walked on, the apothecary mere blocks away.
Geoffrey clasped his hands behind his back. “So, this paragon of yours—”
“Roland is not mine. I only enumerated his qualities to convince you our trust in him is not misplaced.”
“Truly?”
“Aye.”
“Then your admiration for him is due to his gallantry and honor.”
“In part. He has also been my protector and advisor. I left Lelleford with little more planned than getting to London and going to see Father. Roland knew where to stable the horses, let a room. He guided me to the Tower, showed me the way of keeping on the guards’ good side. Without him, I might not have gotten in. I owe him a debt. And given his actions this afternoon, the debt becomes larger.”
“You need not pay him with your heart, Eloise.”
“Gratitude has nothing to do with why I love —” Damn Geoffrey. He’d led her right into the admission and she hadn’t seen it coming. “Not fair, Geoffrey. You tricked me into that admission.”
“ ’Tis the only way to deal with you at times. So you love Roland St. Marten?”
“I would deny it if I thought you might believe me.”
“Too late.” He laughed lightly. “ ’Twas too late the moment I saw the way you looked at him. Your affection for him shines in your eyes. I imagine Father has noticed, too. Perhaps that is part of why he wants me to take you to Cornwall and send Roland back to Lelleford.”
“To part us.”
“I fear so. Does Roland know you love him?”
She shook her head, her heart hurting. “Nay, I have not told him, nor will I. There is no future for us, no matter the outcome of Father’s trial. Roland is as aware of his station and duty as I am of mine. ’Tis hopeless to wish otherwise.”
“Is it? I thought my situation with Leah hopeless, too, and look how that worked out. We are now married, have a child on the way—”
Eloise’s spirits soared. “You do! How wonderful! Did I not tell you Leah would make you happy? When is the babe due? I am to be godmother to your firstborn, remember? Oh, this is grand!”
“The babe should be born late winter, and aye, you shall be godmother—no matter that you never gave me a choice.” Then he sighed. “I wish the same happiness for you, marriage to a man who loves you as I love Leah, who can give you a home and children and cherish his blessings.”
“Perhaps Roland could, but I am not sure he wants those things with me. Besides, could you see me trying to convince Father to allow me to marry a landless knight?”
“Hmmm. There is that.”
“There most certainly is.”
Geoffrey grabbed hold of the door latch and jerked, only to find the apothecary’s door locked.
At his puzzled look, Eloise explained. “Roland insists that when he is not about, Mistress Green is to close her shop and lock all the doors, including the one to the room where she stays with Timothy. When she hears the bell, she looks out the window to see who rings and only admits those people she knows and trusts. I am sure she will be down any moment now.”
“Roland fears another attack?”
Eloise shivered at the thought of the last one. “Perhaps, but more likely he simply strives to keep safe all of those he considers his charges.”
“An impossible thing to do.”
“Try telling that to Roland.”
Roland poured wine from a gold flagon and handed the goblet to Edward, then continued his explanation for requesting this audience.
“So I chased after the Lady Eloise. By the time I caught up to her I decided I might as well bring her into the city to see her father, otherwise I would have to worry about her taking it into her head to try for London on her own.”
“A headstrong woman, then. Like her father.”
The king didn’t have any notion of how strong-willed and persistent Eloise could be, and Roland wasn’t about to tell him, at least not yet.
“I am confident Lelleford is in good hands in my absence. Both Simon and Marcus are capable commanders. Their belief in Sir John’s innocence will ensure they do their utmost to hold the castle safe. I am convinced that if Sir John is guilty of the charges, neither of his most trusted knights knew of their lord’s activities.”
“And the Lady Eloise?”
“The same, my liege. All were genuinely shocked and dismayed to hear the charges, and will swear no Scot has ever passed through Lelleford’s gates.”
Edward walked toward the brocade chair in his sitting room, and Roland again marveled at the man. They were but a year apart in age, and yet Edward ruled a kingdom, had done so for several years now. Every day he dealt with heavy issues of state, endured a bevy of advisors who pulled him every which way. Earls, knights—his own wife.
&
nbsp; The queen, Philippa, could be headstrong, too, but in a gentler manner than Eloise. And Edward loved his young wife even though the marriage had been arranged.
Edward eased into his chair. “Has the lady visited the Tower as yet?”
“Several times, actually.”
Edward tilted his head. “You have been in the city long?”
“Unfortunately.” Roland swirled the wine in a jewel-encrusted gold goblet. “My original plan was to stay but one night, allow Lady Eloise to see her father, and then begin the journey back to Lelleford the next day. Events intervened. Do you remember Timothy, my squire?”
“A lad from the stables, as I recall. A problem there? Shall I find you another squire?”
“Nay, Timothy suits me fine. But there is a problem. He currently recovers from an unwarranted, loathsome beating he endured the other night at the hands of knaves. He will heal, but does so slowly. Thus my continued presence in London.”
Edward pinched the bridge of his hawklike nose between thumb and forefinger. “The streets of London overflow with vermin, particularly after nightfall. Seems no matter how many watchmen the city’s aldermen hire, the worse the problem.”
“Aye, well, these two vermin were after more than a bit of sport with Timothy. I will not bore you with all the details, but the villains had set out to kidnap Lady Eloise. I scuffled with both. One fell down a flight of stairs and died, the other managed to escape me — in a moment of my distraction I very much regret — but not before I learned they were hired to whisk Eloise off to Southwark.”
Edward’s eyes narrowed. “An unholy place. I assume you informed the watchmen?”
“Naturally. I did not get a good look at the man who escaped, but Timothy did. The watchmen hold little hope for catching the culprit, however.”
“Truly, I should have a word with the bishop of Winchester about the brothels in his domain. Innocent women should not be forced into such a life. ’Tis odd, and disturbing, the villains thought to sell a nobly born woman into prostitution. They usually choose peasant girls who no one will miss overmuch.”
Disturbing, indeed, how any woman of any station could come to such a pass. He didn’t want to think of what horrors Eloise might have faced.