The Countess Bride

by TERRI BRISBIN

  “Nay, Aymer. See to this lady’s safety and I will see to Catherine’s.”

  Even if Aymer wanted to follow him, he could not, for Lady Constance threw herself into the knight’s arms and would not be moved. ’Twas better, for Geoff did not want another witness to the exchange between Catherine and John. The fewer witnesses the better…. He left them and went the quickest way to the chapel. Entering a side door, he waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness inside the stone church. He saw no one.

  Then he heard the voices behind him and looked up to find Catherine confronting the prince in the loft at the back of the church. With as much stealth as possible, Geoffrey moved slowly so as to not alert them to his presence. He climbed the stairs at one side, but stayed in the stairwell, ready to intervene if Catherine was threatened. The words he heard chilled his soul.

  “No one has won in this,” she said.

  “I have, for the Dumonts are humiliated and Langier has given you up for the whore you are,” John taunted. “I hope he enjoyed your beauty while he had you and I hope he chokes on his loss.”

  “I know the truth. I do not fear your lies because I remember that year. I remember every day of fear and loathing and pain.”

  “You remember now, do you? Fear? Oh, yes. Loathing? I hope so, since I strived mightily for it. Pain? Was it worth it, Catherine, when it could have been so different for you? Was it worth the lives of the others who paid for your willfulness?”

  She gasped and Geoffrey could hear her struggling to get out the words. He nearly left his place in the shadows to go to her.

  “I will pay for their suffering and their lives and their souls with my own, but no one else will suffer because of me. I swear this.”

  “So, you think that if you come to me and confess, I will let you go? I think that you must pay for the trouble you have caused me these last three years. Just think of the hours and days I spent worrying that you had revealed my secret to someone after you disappeared. I waited to discover if you were telling me the truth or if you indeed had the papers.” Geoffrey heard the scraping of soft boots on the stone floor. John was moving closer to her.

  “I did not come here to confess, Your Grace. I came to warn you.” Her voice trembled, but she did not falter. “Leave them be.”

  John clapped his hands, the sound jarring in the silence of the chapel. “A wonderful show of bravado, my dear. But why should I fear you? A woman alone? A woman scorned by the man who claimed to love her? A whore who I marked as my own?”

  “That is not true,” she replied. Geoff knew from the shakiness of her voice that she was crying. “I am no whore.”

  “Catherine, you are still so naive. I thought that our experiences together would have shown you how untrustworthy men can be. Your brother betrayed you. That knight who promised you aid deserted your cause for my gold. Your Dumont believed my words, and it took so little to make him doubt you. Did you tell him how it was that I took your virginity? No? You see, you trust him as little as he trusts you.”

  “You poisoned him with your lies,” she cried.

  “But will he believe your denials now? How will he separate my words from yours? Ah, but if he loved you, what little faith he showed, eh?” John laughed and the evil within it made Geoffrey’s skin crawl. “’Twas his so-called love of you that led me to you. I would never have known you lived if his attentions your way had not pointed the finger in your direction.”

  He had caused this. If he had listened to Christian and not pursued Catherine she would still be safe. Geoff’s heart pounded as the gravity of his mistake struck him.

  “I have tired of this game and end it now. I want the papers.”

  “You will not hurt them.”

  “If you give me what I seek, I will consider your plea.”

  “It is not a plea. You will not hurt them.”

  “You have changed, my dear. I do not remember this temper in you. Does the blush of anger on your face cover those lovely breasts, too? Do you remember how you would scream for me?”

  John’s tactic of distracting her with taunts infuriated Geoffrey. He was already up two more of the steps when his brother’s grip stopped him. Christian touched his finger to his mouth to keep him silent.

  “Do not interfere in this, Geoff,” he whispered quietly. “The least we can do is stand quiet and let her regain her dignity, even if ours suffers for it.”

  Then her voice, her very resolved voice, reached him and stopped his progress. “You will not hurt them or me again.” Geoff heard something thrown on the ground and waited as it was picked up.

  “You did have my letter, you bitch. All that worrying and you had it all this time?”

  “There were three copies of it and, lest you forget, your ring. The ring given you by your father. The one he gave to each of his sons, the Plantagenet eaglets, as they were called,” she said defiantly. “You may have that to remind you of your treacherous plot to assassinate your nephew Arthur. The names of the other conspirators who signed along with you are known throughout the kingdom. They will suffer your fate as well if you do not leave the Dumonts in peace.”

  An assassination plot to kill Arthur of Brittany? Many here on the Continent believed Arthur’s claim to the Angevin empire was stronger than the prince’s. If John was actively trying to kill the boy, most of the provinces would outright oppose the prince as heir to Richard. The empire would be divided and Richard would have to fight his own vassals if he supported John. God in heaven!

  “I want the rest of them. I want them now.”

  “I have learned from our time together, Your Grace. I will not be threatened by you again. My copy of the letter will protect me if you seek me out or send your minions to harm me. I have given the last copy and your ring to someone who will not hesitate to make them known to your brother and to the nobles here.”

  “I want that ring!” John screamed into the empty church, his words echoing through the alcoves and recesses of the stone building.

  There were no sounds then and Geoffrey stared at Christian and waited. Catherine had managed to best the most deceitful of the royals. How would he take this defeat? For it was indeed one.

  “You have not won,” John whispered dangerously. “Do not think it.” Then Geoffrey heard the prince’s footsteps going down the other stairs.

  “You are correct, Your Grace,” she said in a soft, defeated voice, as though the prince was still there. “I have lost all.”

  When Geoffrey would have gone to her, Christian kept hold of him.

  “She has lost much on our behalf, brother. Let her be.”

  “I will not harm her,” he assured Chris. “I would—”

  “You cannot do anything but hurt her. She has paid much for our safety. Do not diminish her sacrifices or undo her work by going to her now.”

  Although he disagreed, Geoff knew that he should not ignore his brother’s advice. Too many times he was correct—too many times to ignore him now. Nodding, he followed his brother down the stairs and out of the church. He would send Lady Constance to her to assure her safe return to Eleanor’s apartments.

  When they reached their own chambers to finish the preparations for their journey south, Luc handed him a package and a sealed letter. Geoff recognized the neat handwriting immediately as Catherine’s and did not wait for privacy to open it.

  I cannot ask your forgiveness for my lies to you, but I do ask forgiveness for my lack of trust in you. I did not possess the courage to share my secrets with you, but I will share the prince’s secrets.

  Use these as you see fit to protect those you love.

  Catherine

  She did not have courage? If he had not witnessed the scene just now, he might have believed it. But one without courage did not face down a prince.

  Geoff tore open the package to discover an old prayer book inside, elaborately illustrated and engraved with her family name. He leafed through it for some sign of its importance. The false binding revealed a small sp
ace, and he reached into it and pulled out a folded parchment and a small ring.

  John’s ring, engraved with an eagle.

  He handed it to Christian and then examined the paper. As Catherine had said, the letter documented John’s plan to kill his nephew to prevent him from being considered as heir to Richard. Other names were scrawled at the bottom, attesting to their participation in the plot.

  Use these as you see fit to protect those you love.

  His eyes burned as he handed the paper and book to his brother. He would honor her actions as she requested. After doing so much damage himself, ’twas the least he could do for her.

  For two weeks, she tortured him in his sleep, in his waking hours—indeed every hour, for he could not get the visions of her out of his head. Contrary to what he thought would happen, the images that plagued him most were not lascivious ones or ones in which he imagined her with other men. Nay, the ones that troubled him the most were set in the church, where he could almost see her face as she challenged the prince.

  The most terrible ones were when he saw the look in her eyes as she lied to him about knowing her past, and as she realized he believed the worst about her. The best were ones of her laughing on the ship, with her hair loosened from its cap and flowing out behind her. Or of her in those moments just before she would wake in the morning in his arms and gift him with a smile.

  They’d arrived in Poitou and then at the château, and he knew his men and Christian’s were thanking the Almighty for finally finishing their journey. Sullen was too kind a word for Geoffrey’s mood. Albert’s questioning gaze when they entered through the gates simply added to his already foul temper.

  Although Christian seemed pleased to be there, Geoffrey knew he wanted to return to Emalie. Luc’s grumbling was not subtle at all, and everyone at the château knew he missed his wife. Geoff’s brother finally announced that he would take his leave in two days, and the earl and his knights from the Harbridge lands prepared to travel home. That last night, he walked the battlements of the castle with his brother.

  “Does Emalie know of your return?”

  “Aye, I sent her word as soon as we decided.”

  Geoffrey watched as his brother closed his eyes and turned his face into the warm winds that chased along the castle walls. The Loire River lay before them, its picturesque valley, rolling hills and lush farmlands all as inviting and enticing as ever. Harbridge lands were fruitful, just not as blessed by the warmer rays of the sun as here. And now it was all Geoff’s.

  “Will you two settle the discord between you?” he asked. He was the cause of most of the problems the Dumonts had faced in the last two months, and hoped that Christian’s marriage would not suffer because of his actions.

  “We will.” His brother sounded certain.

  “How can you be sure?”

  Chris turned and smiled at him. “Because beneath all of our disagreements and our conflicts, in spite of our fears and occasional mistrust, there lies love. I love her more than anyone else in this world and I know here—” he placed his fist on his chest “—that her love for me is the same. That love will heal the breach between us.”

  “But you are the pragmatic one. You were the one always urging me to think not with my heart, but with my head. How can you now admit the power of love in your life?”

  Christian laughed aloud at his indignant words and, reaching out, smacked him on the back.

  “At times I am the fool that Emalie accuses me of being. I try to see only the practical sides of everything. Our marriage was an arrangement, a joining of lands and titles and wealth. We did not have love before we married, but I thank the Almighty that we found it afterward. I do not claim to understand how it works between us, I only know that it does and it strengthens me and completes all that I am.”

  Geoff had no doubt that his brother loved Emalie. “Does she know that you feel this way?” he asked.

  “I believe so. It frustrates her when I forget what we’ve learned in our lives together, and it forces her to take actions that infuriate me into realizing the truth of it.”

  “And her past? Can you forget it?”

  “I will never forget it, brother. But when I begin to have my doubts, I only have to look into her eyes to find the truth of her love there.” Chris spied Luc over on one of the adjacent towers and nodded. “Or Luc gives me a good swift kick in the arse to remind me not to be stupid.”

  They laughed together and it felt very right to Geoffrey. At least one thing was settled. Christian would return to his wife and they would mend their relationship because they had such a love.

  The sun was setting and its light cast shadows between the hills and past the castle. Autumn was here, the harvest was underway and preparations for the chill of winter were begun. Their winters were milder than the ones in England, but food must be preserved and stored and the castle and village made ready. With their conversation at an end, Geoff turned to go back down into the keep, but Christian’s hand stayed him.

  “I was furious when Emalie delayed telling me the news that you had gone to the convent and taken Catherine. Angry that she’d disobeyed my commands. Frustrated that she did not know her place. Hurt that both you and she did not trust me enough with the truth until it was too late.” Chris’s eyes revealed that not all of those feelings were resolved yet. “I would not have you experience the same thing, since I know the pain of it.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Catherine is not at Fontrevault.”

  “What? How do you know this? Where is she?” She was safe with Eleanor at Fontrevault. The queen’s favorite retreat, the abbey at Fontrevault housed many repudiated women who had no other place to live. Like Catherine.

  “The queen sent me word that Catherine chose to seek sanctuary at a place more distant from Château d’Azure.”

  “More distant? In Brittany? Normandy? Where?”

  “Lincoln. Catherine told Eleanor ’twas the only place where she could feel at peace.”

  “Lincoln?”

  “Just so,” Christian said, and, with a nod, he left Geoffrey alone on the battlements to consider all of his words.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  He’d forgotten what a grueling taskmaster his brother could be, but faced with it now, he would rather not remember. With each mile closer to Greystone Castle, Christian pushed his men relentlessly to travel faster, sleep little, dawdle less. Two days out from home, they had argued, and Geoffrey had told him to go on alone. They still traveled together, but Chris had not lessened in his intense desire to return home as quickly as possible.

  Finally, when Greystone lay just two miles from them, Christian galloped off toward the castle…and his wife. Luc did not wait, either, for no sooner had his lord made his intentions known then the knight mumbled something about protecting him and rode off in a mad dash. The other knights traveling with them cheered as they rode away, for they knew the true reasons behind it and they were finally free of the overanxious husbands. By the time Geoffrey arrived at the keep and was greeted by Walter and some others, Christian had already disappeared.

  Sir Walter reported that the last time Chris and Emalie had been separated for as long as this, they had not emerged from their chambers for nigh on three days. Knowing he had plenty of time and that he had his brother’s support in his plan this time, Geoffrey accepted a chamber and a hot bath to remove the smells and filth of the road from his body. He also allowed himself a night of sleep before leaving once more. Stepping into his brother’s role, he listened to the reports of the steward as well as Sir Walter and several others, issued orders in Christian’s name and then enjoyed a night of ease earned by so many on the road.

  He delayed his visit to Lincoln, trying to gather his courage, for before he could face Catherine, he must face the reverend mother. Geoff was certain he had broken every vow to the woman of God—he had not married Catherine, he had added to her hurt and pain and he had used her like so many before him.
He would fight a battle even to gain permission to speak to Catherine. And then what would he say?

  On the second day after his arrival, when Christian and Emalie still gave no sign of leaving their chambers, he decided ’twas time to go. With a small escort of knights assigned by Walter, he traveled to the convent on the outskirts of Lincoln and soon found himself in the private offices of the reverend mother.

  An hour later, he waited alone in that same room, still shocked over the words spoken by a woman who was pledged to the service of God. Most men would not have the courage to say the things to him that she had. But he only had to remember that she defended Catherine and he could hold no anger against her for her fierce determination to stop him and his plans. Now he faced the bigger challenge. The footsteps in the hall warned him of Catherine’s approach, and he could not find the words to say to her as the door opened and she entered the room.

  “Mother? Sister Marie said I should come to…” Her voice drifted off as she saw him instead of the nun she sought there.

  His heart pounded and his hands grew damp with sweat at the sight of her. Dressed as she usually did at Greystone, in a plain gown of a serviceable nature, with her head covered, she looked more like a servant than a noblewoman. He drank in her beauty and hesitated to ruin the sublime moment by speaking. Their gazes met and he could see the confusion there.

  “Forgive me, my lord,” she said as she dipped into a curtsy before him. “I pray you are well?”

  What should he say? What words could explain his mistakes? What promises did you make to someone when you had already broken all those given before? Where did he begin?

  “I am not well, Catherine.”

  She startled at his words. Rising, she clasped her hands at her waist and frowned. “You look well, my lord. What brings you here?”

  It must have taken an extraordinary will to live with the terrible reality of her past and not let it affect her true innocence. Another woman…another man would have been destroyed or tainted by the existence she’d been forced to live for more than a year. But not Catherine. Goodness still shone within her, even now, even after the sins the prince had committed against her. And the self-control that probably had kept her alive long enough to be rescued by Geoff’s brother was still there.