Roger nodded again and tried not to smile.
It took Elizabeth some time to get control of herself. She alternated between grabbing the squirming little boy and holding him against her to trying to explain to him why she was in such a state.
Little Thomas remembered nothing. Not even how to play checkers, a game the two of them had played countless times in the past. It was just as well, Elizabeth decided, for her mind was too preoccupied for games.
When Geoffrey opened the door to their room, he found Elizabeth standing by the window, clutching her brother’s hand. The little boy looked bewildered.
“Go to Roger, lad. He waits for you at the foot of the steps.” Geoffrey’s order lightened the expression on Thomas’s face. He pulled free of Elizabeth’s hold and ran for the door. It was Geoffrey’s hand that stayed him. “Listen to me, Thomas. You do not leave Roger’s side. Do you understand me?” His voice was firm.
The boy felt the seriousness of the order. “I will not leave his side,” he said, frowning.
Geoffrey nodded and the boy hurried out the door. Slowly, while he gathered his thoughts and considered how much to tell his wife, Geoffrey shut the door. He turned to deal with Elizabeth and was surprised to find her bare inches from him. Her face and posture appeared relaxed, but her eyes told the truth. There was torment etched there, torment and pain.
Unused to comforting, Geoffrey awkwardly placed his hands on her shoulders. In a soft voice, he said, “I will have your word, Elizabeth, that you will hear what I am going to say. Hear and abide by my decision.”
Elizabeth frowned. He was asking the impossible. “I cannot give you my word, my lord. I cannot! Do not ask this of me.” She tried to control the anguish in her voice but found it impossible.
“Will you listen to me, then?” Geoffrey asked.
“You have found Belwain innocent.” Geoffrey could feel Elizabeth’s shoulders sag beneath his hands.
“I have not said that,” Geoffrey answered.
“Then he is guilty in your eyes?”
“I have not said that either,” Geoffrey snapped, growing irritated.
“But—”
“Stop this! I have asked you to listen to me,” Geoffrey stated again. “And I do not want your interruptions until I am done. Will you give me that much, wife?”
Elizabeth could tell her husband was irritated with her and knew that he was finding it difficult to keep his patience. She was puzzled also by his manner. “I will not interrupt.” The promise was made, and she would keep it.
“To begin,” Geoffrey said, lightening his tone, “I do not have to tell you anything. You understand this?”
Elizabeth nodded, wishing him to go on. “You are my wife. I need tell you nothing. In future I most likely will not. It is not your place to know what I am thinking, what I am doing. Do you also understand this?”
In truth, Elizabeth did not. Her father had shared all his joys and worries with her mother. And that was as it should be. Why didn’t her husband understand this? Were his parents so very different from her own? she wondered. She made a mental note to question him on this later. For now, she would agree. She nodded again and folded her hands.
Geoffrey let go of her shoulders and turned from her. He walked over to the two chairs, adjusted his sword, and sat. Propping his feet up on the edge of the bed, he looked over at his wife.
“Your uncle is nothing like your father,” he began. “I find it hard to believe that they are indeed brothers.” He stopped then, looking past Elizabeth.
“It is too simple, this solution,” he said, more to himself than his puzzled wife. Elizabeth longed to interrupt, to ask him what he meant, but she kept her silence.
“I do not think Belwain is the one behind the massacre.” There it was said. Geoffrey watched his wife react.
Elizabeth met his stare and waited. She sensed he was testing her somehow, but didn’t understand his reasons. Didn’t he know the agony she was going through?
Her composure pleased the warrior. “Answer me this, Elizabeth. Do you consider your uncle to be intelligent? Tell me what you know of his character.”
Elizabeth sensed her answer would be important to her husband, though she did not know why. “I believe him to be self-centered and interested only in his pleasures.”
“Your reasons?” Geoffrey asked.
“Whenever he came to visit, he never took time with my sisters or my brother, or me for that matter. The family didn’t interest him. And as soon as my father came home, Belwain would begin with his wants, his needs. He was always asking for more, but never giving.” Elizabeth walked over to the bed and sat down before she continued. “There was no love inside of Belwain, that is why I think him more than capable of doing the killings. He was totally lacking in loyalty too. I cannot give you an example of this but I know it in my heart. And to me, there is nothing more unholy than lack of loyalty. As to intelligence, no, I do not think Belwain uses his mind overly. Otherwise he would have learned long ago how to deal with my father. He would have used a different approach to get what he wanted.”
“He is weak. Don’t you agree?” Geoffrey asked.
“Yes, he is weak,” Elizabeth agreed. “But full of evil too.”
“I do not disagree or agree with you,” Geoffrey said. “His manners do not please me,” he admitted.
“My mother told my father that Belwain suffers from the king’s complaint,” she whispered. “I heard her.”
“The king’s complaint?” Geoffrey had never heard the expression.
Elizabeth’s cheeks colored but she answered her husband’s question. “To prefer men to women . . .”
Geoffrey acted like a bolt of lightning had been shot through his body. He came out of the chair in one giant bound. “William would cut out your tongue if he heard your blasphemy,” he bellowed.
“Then it is not true?” Elizabeth asked, outwardly oblivious to her husband’s anger.
“No, it is not true,” Geoffrey barked. “Never utter those words again, wife. It is paramount to treason.”
“Yes, husband,” Elizabeth agreed. “I am glad it is not true.”
“William is married,” Geoffrey snapped. “And it is not proper to discuss—”
“But you can be married, can you not, and still prefer the company of other men?”
“Stop this, I say!” God, but she was exasperating! To speak of such a subject as though she was discussing family trivia both infuriated and amused him. She had much to learn.
“Yes, my lord.” Elizabeth’s voice sounded repentant, but Geoffrey wondered how sincere she really was. “I am sorry, husband. I have led you away from our topic.”
“Uhmmm,” Geoffrey grumbled deep in his throat. He sat back down and shook his head, in an action meant to clear his thoughts.
“I will tell you what I have thus far concluded, wife. Your uncle is a weak man. Weak and stupid.”
“May I question you, husband?” Elizabeth asked, her tone mild.
“You may,” Geoffrey stated.
“Will you kill him or must I?” Her softly spoken question jarred Geoffrey.
“For now, neither will. We have need for Belwain, Elizabeth. Now you will ask no more questions until I am done,” he hurried to add.
Elizabeth nodded, frowning.
“I do not think he is the one behind the plan, though I feel he somehow participated. He is a follower, and too stupid to plan such a feat.”
Elizabeth knew her husband spoke the truth. It was a difficult admission for her to make. Yet even from the beginning, while she concentrated all her hate on Belwain, there was a nagging uncertainty that he was not alone in the deed. Guilty, yes! But others involved? It was a possibility she had refused to consider until now.
“Belwain will be the bait, wife. I believe he will lead us to the one in hiding. I have a plan,” he added, “and you will give me your word that you will cooperate.”
“But who else stands to gain, husband?” Elizabeth ask
ed, unable to keep her silence a moment longer.
“There is another,” Geoffrey said. “Though I will not speak his name to you yet. I could be wrong. You will have to trust me in this, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth didn’t respond but continued to look at her husband and wait.
“I now ask a most difficult thing from you,” he said. “It will require courage.”
“And what is that?” Elizabeth asked.
“You saw what happened, and you remember what those who didn’t wear masks looked like,” Geoffrey said. “Tonight the troops of Belwain will be allowed inside.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened but Geoffrey continued on. “Do not worry, we far outnumber his soldiers. There will be no danger. I will have you beside me at dinner, and you will have a chance to see if any of his men were part of the attack.”
“Belwain will sit with us?” Elizabeth asked.
“He will sit with us,” Geoffrey acknowledged. “I want him to think he is innocent in my eyes, Elizabeth. If he feels secure, he will slip.”
“You ask a great deal,” Elizabeth whispered. “I do not know if—”
“Can you be content with Belwain’s death and live with the thought that there is another just as guilty?” Geoffrey argued.
Elizabeth took a long time to answer. “No, I could not be content. I would know all of the truth.”
“Can you do what I ask?”
“Aye,” Elizabeth answered, wondering inside if she really could or not. She honestly didn’t know. “But could we not ride to their camp outside the walls instead of allowing them entrance?”
“No,” Geoffrey announced. “It is safer for you here.”
Elizabeth squared her shoulders and stood. “There is much to be done before tonight. I will instruct the cook,” she said. Her hands were trembling. There was so much to think over. Elizabeth felt overwhelmed with contusion.
“Come here, Elizabeth,” Geoffrey ordered, his tone gentle.
Elizabeth nodded and slowly walked over to stand at her husband’s side. Before she could so much as blink, Geoffrey pulled her onto his lap and kissed her soundly on the lips. His breath was warm and mint-tasting. Elizabeth began to respond when Geoffrey ended the kiss. “I did not hurt you last night?” he asked in a quiet voice, smiling at the becoming blush his question spurred.
“Not overly much,” Elizabeth answered, turning her gaze to his chin. She felt him chuckle and glanced back up to look into his eyes. There was tenderness there now. “I did not hurt you, my lord?” she asked innocently.
“Not overly,” Geoffrey answered when the surprise of her question receded. He found he liked it when she teased him, liked to see the hint of a sparkle come into her eyes. God, but if he could end her torment over her family’s deaths as soon as possible, he would. He wished to see only joy in her expression, hear her laughter.
He lifted her off his lap and stood up. “This is not the time for loving, wife. It is daylight,” he explained.
“We may only show affection during the night?” Elizabeth asked. She had meant her question as another jest, but her husband was vigorously nodding his head in agreement. “You are serious?” she asked, all but laughing.
“Of course I am serious! Do not mock me, Elizabeth,” Geoffrey said in a firm voice. “It is unseemly to show affection in front of my men. You would do well to learn that,” he admonished. “Know your place, woman!” His tone did not sound angry to Elizabeth but reminded her of an elder instructing a younger one in the ways of the court. She found herself furious over his attitude.
“And where is my place, husband?” Elizabeth let her anger show. She placed her hands on her hips while she waited for an answer.
Geoffrey walked to the door and opened it before turning back to his wife.
“I asked you, where is my place, husband? Where do I stand?”
Geoffrey found himself confused by the obvious anger in his wife’s voice. She acted much like his stallion when a burr was caught under his saddle.
“Where do you stand?” he repeated, frowning. “What is your meaning?”
“Aye, where do I stand?” Elizabeth all but shouted. “Do I stand beside you or behind you, husband? Answer me that.”
“Why, behind me, of course. It is the way of things.” From his wife’s expression, Geoffrey gauged his answer had not pleased her. He slammed the door before she could reply, shaking his head. Aye, she had much to learn, this new wife of his. Much indeed!
You are wrong, husband mine, Elizabeth thought as soon as the door slammed. I’ll not be hovering behind you, she vowed. Like my mother, I will stand beside you in this marriage. Oh, he had much to learn, this new husband of hers. Much indeed!
Chapter Six
GUYTON, THE BAILIFF IN CHARGE OF THE ENTIRE MANOR, had been slain during the attack, as had Angus, the reeve, a first tenant in charge of cultivation of the lord’s land. And there were others missing, unaccounted for, Elizabeth knew. New appointments had to be made, and soon, for Elizabeth could all but feel the chaos and confusion in the atmosphere.
Although her husband was in charge of all that transpired, Elizabeth knew it was also her responsibility to help in any way she could. Her mother had ruled with her father, at his side, and often remarked that it was her lot in life to ease the burden of leadership. Elizabeth could do no less.
The first thing she would do was what she had promised her husband. She searched out and found Sara and placed her in charge of the arrangements for dinner. She felt confident that she could trust Sara to see that her orders were carried out, and when the servant had repeated each instruction back to her mistress, Elizabeth was content that all would go as planned.
“The fare will be meager by Belwain’s standards, Sara. There would be sufficient quantities of shoulder of wild boar with pheasant pasties and pigeon pie, but no delicacies such as roasted peacocks or swans, nor poultry either. “Make sure that there is more than enough sweetmeats for dessert, and have the servants include cloves and ginger after that.”
“We’ll need plenty of ale, my lady, for the sweet-meats and the spices will make the men ravenously thirsty.”
“That is the plan, Sara. Tell the servants that no cup is to be left unfilled. Enough ale will muddle their minds and loosen their tongues.”
Sara nodded vigorously. “I see your plan, mistress, and I tell you I am greatly relieved. At first I could not understand how that . . . man could be allowed to sit at your father’s table. Why, I thought it was sacrilege you encouraged,” she added in a whisper.
“There is reason.” Elizabeth found herself comforting the old woman. “You must continue to have faith in me, Sara. Do not doubt my motives. Trust me.” Familiar words, Elizabeth thought. Easily asked but quite difficult to give.
Elizabeth patted the woman on the arm and left the room. Her destination was the courtyard, where her husband was holding court. The villeins, those who worked for her father but had some rights of their own to the land, and the cotters, those who usually had no rights to any property but served the lord faithfully, had all been informed that Geoffrey would hear their disputes and offer decisions. Elizabeth was anxious to observe her husband, to see how he questioned, to have some insight on how he reached his decisions.
Geoffrey’s back was to Elizabeth when she started down the steps. A long wooden table had been placed a little distance in front of the steps, and her husband sat in the same high-back chair that her father had used. Roger stood behind Geoffrey, his hand resting almost absentmindedly on the hilt of his sword at his side. There was a crowd gathered, all men, split into two sides in front of the table, with a cleared space in the middle. A lone man, Elizabeth recognized him as one of the leatherworkers, stood in the center, his head bowed.
The squire gestured to Elizabeth and pointed to a stool next to him. Elizabeth walked over to where the lad stood. “You are to sit here,” the squire informed Elizabeth.
“My husband’s orders?” Elizabeth asked in a whisper so
as not to interrupt the proceedings.
The squire nodded, pleased that his mistress understood.
Elizabeth turned and stared at the back of her husband’s head, willing him to look over his shoulder at her. So I also sit behind you, husband? Stand behind you, sit behind you, is that your way of thinking? she asked herself. Well, I think not, Baron Geoffrey. You have much to learn, husband mine, and the lessons will begin now.
Elizabeth smiled, more to herself than the grinning squire, and then lifted the wooden stool. The squire could do no more than gape as his mistress carried the stool to the table. Roger was watching her, Elizabeth realized, and she glanced up to see his expression. He gave her a small shake of his head, hoping she would understand that what she was about was not acceptable, but Elizabeth only increased her smile, nodding that she understood well enough. Roger’s expression turned from a frown to a bland, almost bored expression it must have taken years to perfect, but his new mistress wasn’t the least bit fooled. She could see the laughter in his eyes.
Oh, but she hoped Geoffrey wouldn’t make a scene! Why, she didn’t even know if he was inclined to beat his wife. And though she had heard that he had a fierce temper, she had yet to see it.
Well, it was too late for second thoughts now. She took a calming breath and placed the stool next to her husband. Smoothing her gown, she sat down and folded her hands demurely in her lap. Though she wished more than anything to chance a glimpse at her husband’s expression, she did not. With total concentration she kept her gaze straight ahead and waited.
Geoffrey was in the middle of a sentence when his wife appeared at his side. He lost his train of thought as he watched her out of the corner of his eye take her place next to him. Her audacity stunned him into temporary speechlessness.
Elizabeth felt his anger blow over her like a hot wind and she braced herself for the explosion. Had she misjudged him so completely? she asked herself. She thought he would never make a scene in front of his men. Never mind, she told herself, what will be cannot be stopped. But if he does rant and rave, and if I am cast out and back inside, I will return to his side, again and again, until he must tie me in chains to keep me behind him.
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