Despite Gallien’s obvious irritation, everyone quickly fell into the habit of calling her Peri.
“I fear we will see little of our husbands while we are at Court. King Henry wants to talk strategy for his campaign against the French king.”
Peri frowned. “Henry will attack France?”
Carys sighed. “Louis the Fat of France has set Clito as Comte in Flandres, and supports Clito’s claim to the Duchy of Normandie. Henry has to act. It is not likely he will attack Louis directly, but he’s already financing the armed opposition of the nobles and towns in Flandres. This is why he has allied England with Anjou—to strengthen his hand against Louis.”
Peri hesitated. “This means Geoffrey of Anjou will be at Westminster for the discussions?”
“And his father too, I shouldn’t wonder. You may meet friends from Anjou in his entourage.”
Peri put a hand on her arm. “Forgive me, maman, but how do you know these things?”
Carys chuckled. “My husband confides in me. He values my opinions.”
Peri averted her gaze, studying the gates of the Palace as sentries waved them on. “Gallien said nothing to me. He does not seek my opinion.”
Carys reached out to touch her shoulder. “He will. Someday he will.”
A tear rolled down Peri’s cheek. “He cares nothing for me. He is still in love with his first wife.”
Taken aback, Carys glanced over to where her menfolk were dismounting. What had Gallien said to make his wife believe this nonsense? But she held her tongue. It was not for her to interfere in her son’s marriage. She prayed he would one day come to value the precious jewel he had in Peri.
~~~
Peri was pleased to discover Francine Beaujoie had advanced from the lowly position of official stain remover. The two women exchanged hugs. Francine told her of her new duties as Custodian of The Royal Jewellery. They tittered as her friend described Maud trying to ram dainty rings on her pudgy fingers. “Of course, I am not allowed to handle the most precious jewels, only the everyday ones.”
“I suppose you can no longer get your hands on royal potpourri?”
Francine winked. “Never fear. I still have my sources.”
Peri’s heart lifted. The potpourri seemed to be the one thing that enchanted Gallien. “My husband loves it,” she whispered, feeling her face redden.
Francine dug her elbow into Peri’s ribs. “What man can resist? Mayhap Maud will snare Geoffrey with it.”
She guffawed with laughter.
Wishing to change the subject, Peri asked, “And how fare Tandine and the hateful Philippa?”
Francine shrugged, wiping away a tear. She placed her thumb and forefinger on the end of her nose, her little finger thrust into the air. “Lady Philippa de Grosmont is now too important a personage for me to even speak to. She is Milady Ermintrude’s personal secretary—which means spy.”
Peri turned down the corners of her mouth, pretending to be suitably impressed by Francine’s nasally pronouncement.
The smile left Francine’s face. “Tandine is to be wed, though she is not happy with her bridegroom. He is a widower, with six children.”
Peri gasped. “Six?”
“Oui, and only one hand. Imagine.”
Both women stared at each other, then collapsed onto the bed, laughing hysterically.
~~~
As the Countess had predicted, once Twelfth Night festivities were over, the Montbryce men spent most of their time closeted with King Henry and the other barons and earls, planning strategy for continuing the campaign in Flandres.
Peri sought out Tandine, recently returned from spending her last Yuletide with her parents. It was evident from the red rims around her eyes she was not happy.
They embraced. Peri cupped her friend’s face in her hands. “You look bereft. Does your betrothal not bring you joy?”
Tandine closed her eyes. Tears followed. “Devlin de Villiers terrifies me.”
Peri hugged her again. “Why? Because he has only one hand?”
Tandine pulled away, searching in her pocket for a kerchief. She blew her nose. “Non. I could accept that, but he is a man full of anger.”
Peri’s heart lurched. “I was afraid of Gallien when I first met him. He too seemed angry, but he is a good man.”
Tandine eyed her curiously. “You are not convincing.”
Peri shrugged, wishing she had not embarked on this conversation. “Gallien lost his wife, whom he loved dearly. I understand your betrothed is also a widower?”
Tears welled again in Tandine’s eyes. “Six children,” she rasped. “How am I to cope with six children?”
Peri did not voice her suspicion that de Villiers sought a nursemaid, not a wife. “How did Lady De Villiers die?”
Tandine stared at the wall behind Peri’s head. “In childbirth.” She hesitated, then whispered, “They say he was cruel to her.”
Peri’s heart went out to her friend. She too had known the despair of being betrothed to a monster. Women had no control over their destinies. Men ruled the world.
However, she no longer thought her husband a fiend. He had made her a woman. She was intimate with every inch of his glorious body, where he liked to be touched, and how. If only their congress out of bed was the same.
She cast about for something to say. “What do your parents think of the match?”
Tandine perched on the edge of the tiny bed. “They are elderly and anxious to be rid of me. I am the youngest of ten children. They are worn out, and have precious little to offer in the way of a dowry. They jumped at Devlin’s offer.”
Peri sat beside her and took her friend’s hand. “All will be well, Tandine. His children will love you, and you will grow to love them.”
She did not envy her friend, but their conversation caused her thoughts to drift to her failure to get with child. Her husband had explained that children grew from a man’s seed. Perhaps if she and Gallien had a child it would bring them closer.
~~~
Gallien drummed his fingers on his thighs, ignoring his father’s irritated glare. Henry was working up to demanding that English noblemen with ties in Normandie assist with the struggle in Flandres. The king was incensed that Louis had granted Clito estates in the Vexin, from where he might more easily attack Normandie’s cathedral city of Rouen by sailing down the Seine.
Gallien was a warrior, proud of the long history of military prowess that the Montbryce family was well known for. He had no love for Louis the Fat, nor the French, though as Duke of Normandie, Henry was Louis’ vassal. Thus in turn was Robert, Comte de Montbryce, Gallien’s uncle and head of the clan, also a vassal of Louis.
Gallien hoped that when the day of his death came, it would be on a battlefield. But going to Flandres now would mean leaving Peri. She had shown no sign of being with child, but if she had conceived, he might be absent for his child’s birth. He would miss Peri. Her lithe body and generous lovemaking had him in her thrall. But still the belief that she loved Geoffrey of Anjou made him wary. Would she give her body to Geoffrey if the opportunity arose? Many women at court, most of them married, were proud to boast of a liaison with a king. Henry’s mistresses were proof enough of that. Their cuckolded husbands had to grin and bear it.
Geoffrey was not yet a king, and if Gallien had his way, never would be. But Plantagenet was here at Westminster, seated not ten feet away, looking exceedingly bored, as if he wished to be elsewhere. Had he and Peri arranged to meet? Gallien resolved to keep an eye on the Angevin.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Peri hastened along the hallway beneath the west gallery, her thoughts on Tandine. The corridor was deserted at this hour, most people making their way to the Great Hall for the evening meal. It grieved her that her friend was facing an unhappy marriage, while she—
It struck her like a lightning bolt that, despite the difficulties, she did not consider herself trapped in an unhappy marriage. Gallien must have some feeling for her. His rapture when they
made love was real. Her body heated thinking of the dark desire in his eyes whenever he looked at her breasts.
She did not see Geoffrey the Handsome leaning nonchalantly in the shadows until she was upon him. “Oh!” she exclaimed as he grasped her hand.
He whirled her body, pressing her against the wall. “You promised me a token, my little Angevin.”
It came to her in a wave of disgust that he had forgotten her name, if indeed he had ever known it. She struggled to free herself. “Milord Geoffrey, I promised nothing. I am a married woman.”
She had once thought his distinctive laugh charming, but now it grated on her nerves. This immature boy was a pale imitation of the man she had wed. He tried to kiss her, but she turned her head away with a grimace, panic rising in her throat. “My husband is a jealous man,” she warned.
This king-in-waiting had no honor if he planned to make her an adulteress.
Tears rolled down her cheek as he grasped her chin, forcing her to face him. He clamped his mouth on hers, gathering up her skirts, forcing his knee between her thighs. Surely he did not intend to rape her in the corridors of Westminster Palace? Someone might be in the gallery above. Her knees threatened to buckle. She gagged.
“What’s going on here?”
Geoffrey swivelled his head. Peri gulped air, looking beyond her assailant to where a dark haired man stood, his hands braced on his hips. But there was something amiss with one hand. Tandine’s betrothed.
“Be gone, sir. This is none of your business,” Geoffrey said imperiously.
Peri pushed Geoffrey, but his grip held firm. “Please, let me go, milord.”
Geoffrey seemed to ponder the matter for a few moments, then released her. “Until the next time,” he threatened as he strolled away.
~~~
Devlin de Villiers blessed his luck. He was heartily glad he had followed Gallien de Montbryce’s wife when he had espied her leaving the chamber of his betrothed. He had not expected to stumble across her in a compromising situation with Geoffrey of Anjou.
She babbled her thanks at him, tears streaming down her face. He hooked his mutilated hand in his black cloak, gathering it to cover his arousal as he put his good arm around her shoulders. A great deal rode on his conviction that Montbryce’s pride had prevented him from revealing anything about his first marriage. “I am Devlin de Villiers.”
“Tandine’s betrothed,” she murmured.
“One and the same,” he replied, relieved his name obviously meant nothing to her.
She leaned into him, her voice raspy. “I am faint.”
Her perfume intrigued him, but he must not let his voice betray his desire. “You are safe now. I will escort you to your husband.”
She pulled away from him, her eyes wide with apprehension. “Non, he is busy with the king. I do not want to upset him with what has transpired. Please fetch Tandine, then you can both see me safely to our chambers.”
He executed the courtliest bow he could summon. “Gladly,” he declared, smug in the new knowledge he had gained about his quarry. Peridotte de Montbryce loved her husband, but feared his jealousy. She was now in Devlin’s debt. He had rescued her, and she did not want her husband to learn of the incident. Geoffrey of Anjou fancied the wench.
Devlin was well pleased with his afternoon.
~~~
After the long day of deliberations and Henry’s bullying, Gallien sought a few moments peace and quiet in the small chapel above the west gallery of the Palace. He was not an overly religious man, but his heart and mind were in turmoil. He sensed he was not alone in his irritation at Maud’s participation as the only woman. If she’d had something intelligent to offer to the discussions, his opinion might have been different.
He knelt, steepling his hands in prayer. He gazed at the candle flickering on the altar. His thoughts drifted to the goddess Arianrhod. It was a favourite family tale that, in a dream, she had revealed to his grandfather, Rhodri, that Rhonwen was his destiny.
He closed his eyes, a vision of Peri’s face appearing behind them. He shook his head. This was not the place to be meditating on Celtic deities.
He stared again at the votive. “I am not afraid of death, Lord, but grant I may return from Flandres. I want to see my beautiful wife heavy with my child. I want to grow old with her. I intend to tell her of my love before I leave. I should have done it months ago, but—”
“What’s going on here?”
Dieu! That voice. Somewhere in the corridors below the upper gallery lurked Devlin de Villiers. Gallien crossed his body with the sign of the crucifix, rising from his knees to hasten out into the gallery.
He walked stealthily towards the sound of the voice he detested more than any other. The torches had not yet been lit in the darkening corridor below. Trusting the heavy brocade curtain concealed him, he peered into the gathering shadows. Who was de Villiers speaking to?
Red hair. Fury gripped him when his wife leaned into de Villiers. He strained to hear their whispers.
“...your husband...upset him...to our chambers...gladly...”
He remained for long minutes after they had gone, his back pressed against the balustrade of the gallery. If he moved he would retch. His knees trembled. His heart had shattered into a thousand pieces.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Peri was too upset to eat. She remained in the opulent chamber provided by Henry, sending a servant to the Great Hall with the excuse of a headache. She undressed and climbed into bed, anxious for her husband’s arrival. Should she tell him of Geoffrey’s behavior and her rescue by Tandine’s betrothed? She had not seen Gallien all day, and wondered if he would share with her details of the discussions with the King.
The fire burned down in the grate and still he had not appeared. She struggled to stay awake, but finally fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming of lying beneath him, writhing with pleasure.
When she awoke at dawn, the bed was cold. He had not come. It was the first night since their marriage they had not slept together. Even on the long journey from Ellesmere, he had cuddled into her in the elaborate pavilion the whole family shared when they camped for the night.
Foreboding gnawed at her. Something was amiss.
She peered out into the hallway, summoning from a sleeping alcove the maidservant assigned to her—a far cry from her days as lady-in-waiting—and was soon coiffed and dressed.
She made her way hastily to the Hall. Surely Gallien must be there. The Earl and Countess sat amid other barons and nobles, breaking their fast. Her father-by-marriage came to his feet and hurried to her side. He kissed her hand. “Good morning, Peri. How do you fare this day?”
Something in his tone set her on edge. It was as though he expected her to be upset. “I am well, milord Earl, and you? Have you seen Gallien?”
The Earl frowned. “You have not seen him?”
She did not want to reveal that her husband had not come to her bed. She shook her head. “Not today.”
The Earl looked over at his Countess, then took a deep breath, holding her hand tightly. “But, ma chère, he has already left. With Étienne. We deemed it strange you were not there to see them off.”
She wished heartily that the drum beating in her ears would cease. “Off?”
The Countess had reached them, her face strained. “Peri, my dear.”
The Earl put an arm around her shoulders. “They left at dawn. For Flandres.”
~~~
Peri blinked. She did not recall being carried to her chamber. For that matter she had no recollection of swooning, but supposed she must have. It was becoming an unwanted habit.
She felt something cool on her forehead. A familiar voice spoke her name. She closed her eyes again. Better to remain in a stupor than awaken to the reality that Gallien had left without a word of farewell.
“Peri.”
Tears trickled down her cheeks, but she did not open her eyes. She remained silent, not trusting herself to speak.
Her mother-by-marr
iage persisted, squeezing her hand. “Peri, wake up.”
A lead weight crushed her chest, making it hard to breathe. “Leave me, please,” she rasped.
“Gallien will return safely,” the Countess whispered, but Peri heard the fear in her voice.
“He did not say goodbye. I did not know he was leaving.”
“Perhaps he wanted to spare you the sadness. He asked us to remain silent. We thought he would break the news to you.”
“Non. He cares nothing for me. I am a burden he would rather do without.”
The Countess put an arm to her back. “Let me help you sit up, daughter.”
The chamber was still spinning. “I only want to lie here. Please leave me be.”
Her mother-by-marriage insisted. “I do not know why my son left without farewell. It is inexcusable, but he does care for you.”
Peri groaned, curling up on her side to relieve the bile rising in her throat. “I am going to be sick.”
She was grateful for the bowl thrust under her chin as she retched, unable to control the trembling shaking her from head to toe. She flopped back onto the bed, appreciative of another damp cloth that cooled her forehead and cleansed her mouth.
“Rest, child. We embark on the long journey back to Ellesmere on the morrow.”
~~~
Peri spent the day in bed. Her tears had long since dried up, but her nose was plugged, and her breath persisted in catching in her throat. Her head was stuffed with feathers. She had heard of people dying of grief. Perhaps death would end her agony.
The Countess cosseted her, feeding her broth, uttering soothing words.
Guilt crept into Peri’s heart. “You have sent your sons off to war, maman, and I have offered you no words of comfort.”
The Countess stroked her hair. “They will return safely. Henry wants a show of strength. It is unlikely Clito will join battle.”
A vision played behind Peri’s eyes—Gallien lying on some faraway battlefield, bleeding to death. She reached hastily for the bowl, retching again.
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