Of a sudden Johanna was certain she didn't want to hear what Master Colin was going to say to Katel. She looked at Rob in a plea to leave. Rob only shrugged in helplessness. There was no escape for them without revealing their presence.
"You'll let me go," Katel said with icy calm.
Master Colin gave the younger and more slender man a sharp shake. "You arranged to have Arthur and Rob beaten!"
His words not only thundered against the warehouse walls, they echoed into Johanna's heart. Edwin had not lied; even Master Colin knew Katel meant Rob harm.
"If Arthur says I set out to hurt them, he lies," Katel said, an undercurrent of scorn in his voice.
"I do not need a child to tell me what I can see for myself," Master Colin retorted, a new note of sadness in his voice. "Jesu, Katel! What has become of you? Your soul blackens before my eyes! Did you not come to Walter heartsore, much as Rob did? Yet, instead of reflecting the compassion your master has shown you, you set yourself to hating and hurting."
"You'll not chide me for what you believe lies in mine own heart," Katel snarled, a frantic edge to his voice. He shoved at the apothecary. "What do you know of how it feels to see your father give his affection to another, leaving you no crumb after? Because I was not adept enough at his trade, my sire threw me away, condemning me without a second thought to a life far less than what even his apprentices will own. Now you would ask compassion of me as I daily see that bastard steal from me what little I have left?"
"Ah, so you did plan Rob's beating," Master Colin said in bitter triumph.
Johanna watched as her betrothed went utterly still in the older man's grasp. In the next moment, Katel raised a cool brow. "You have incontrovertible proof of this?" Scorn lay heavy in his voice. "Without it, all you do is speculate." This time, when he thrust away from the apothecary, Master Colin released him. Silence lay as heavy and soft along the riverbank as the clouds in the sky. As Katel yanked his tunic back in place and straightened his hair, Master Colin stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Mayhap I cannot prove it outright," the apothecary said, "but, trust me, boy, I'll make certain Walter knows of this."
"Say what you like. You cannot hurt me," Katel replied, his voice now as smooth as silk. "For months I have praised the lad to my master, congratulating him for finding a lad so gifted." Katel paused to smile at Master Colin. "Who do you think Master Walter will believe the one who is his heir and sings the lad's praises or the man who is jealous of me, because he remains too poor to buy himself his own trade?"
"You dance a clever dance, lad," Master Colin snapped, looking not the least bit frightened by the threat. "Best you beware. One day you will tangle yourself in the webs you spin, bringing your own downfall upon you. I only pray I am there to witness it when you do." The apothecary whirled on his heel and stalked from the bank.
Katel waited until he was sure Master Colin was out of earshot. "Think so, old man?" he said to the empty space before him. "I think me you're wrong, and it won't be long before I prove it to you. Once I have the spice merchant's wealth behind me, you'll swiftly find yourself without trade or home." With that, he stormed from the riverbank and around the warehouse.
Johanna watched him go. Rob was right. Katel meant not only to hurt him, but Master Colin as well. When Papa returned from the fairs she'd tell him she wanted to wed Katel no longer.
Above them, the sky released a fine veil of mist. She looked at Rob. Tears touched his eyes, shed for Master Colin's sake. This time he didn't turn away from her. Instead, as if he both begged her aid and sought to share his pain with her, he laid his arm around her shoulders. Once again, her need to protect him rose. But what could she do if even Master Colin could not control Katel?
Trapped in mutual worry and depression, they clutched together in the hidey-hole. Only when the pasties were gone and the mist had turned to rain did they emerge from the bank and return in silence to her father's home.
Johanna woke with a start, yet breathing in panic against her dream. Although she knew it was only her fancy it had seemed oh-so-real. Lying still upon her cot, she let the images coalesce until she found the tale in it. Katel had attacked her, not the kind and caring man he'd been, but the new man she'd seen on the riverbank.
She breathed out the remains of what had frightened her. There was no need to fear Katel, at least not just now. Most likely, he wasn't even in the house. When he hadn't appeared for their evening meal, Johanna asked after him to Helewise. The housekeeper told her Katel had gone to soak his pride, whatever that meant. At any rate, Helewise thought Katel would be at it all night.
Now fully awake, Johanna let her gaze travel the room, finding comfort in its familiar nightly landscape. At the far wall, a thick night candle set on its tall iron stand flickered a friendly yellow greeting to her. Its meager light made Papa's nearby trunks, the ones containing his and her clothing, seem to shift into their corner like huge, shadowy cats, curled one into the other. This made Johanna reach down to touch Puss, who was curled between her legs. The cat offered her a brief purr then shifted to avoid her hand.
Johanna looked at the gaping emptiness where Papa's bed usually sat. Helewise always dismantled and stored the piece for safekeeping while he traveled. Of a sudden she longed for her father. Were he here, she could have told him all despite her vow to Rob. She could trust Papa to both keep her secret and advise her.
Her gaze moved to Helewise's cot near the door. The housekeeper was but a slight mound atop its surface. Johanna considered confiding in her, then rejected the idea. If Master Colin could do nothing to save Rob neither could Helewise, who was less powerful than he. Nay, only Papa could manage Katel.
From their pallets on the floor all around her the maids who served Papa’s house all murmured in their sleep. The lasses were distraught over Emmalina's abrupt departure from their midst, none of them certain of the reason for her dismissal. Johanna rolled onto her side to look over her cot's edge at them. Caught two to a pallet, they cuddled and snuggled as they slumbered.
It had been very hard not to tell them what she knew, thus making herself the center of their attention, but today had changed her. No longer was she a babe, blindly trusting all she saw. She was the mistress of this house, the one who sought to protect those in her charge. Besides, if she spilled what she knew, one of them would surely tell Helewise. Not only could this threaten both Rob and Master Colin, but Johanna might be punished for spying.
Only then did the answer to this puzzle come to her. There was one person to whom she could spill her troubles. Once she'd told Katel what she knew she could barter with him to secure the safety of those she loved.
Before she could reconsider her plan, Johanna slipped from her cot and dragged on her undergown. Tiptoeing carefully over the maids, she crept to the bedchamber door. Puss rose to follow her.
Helewise rolled onto her back. "Where are you going, little mistress?" Her voice was sleepy.
"To the privy," she lied.
"Use the chamber pot."
"Nay," Johanna moaned quietly. "I don't like it. It stinks."
Helewise gave a tired groan then pulled the blankets over her shoulders. "Do not wake the house by dropping the bar this time, and come immediately back, do you hear?" she murmured.
"Aye. My thanks, Helewise."
The housekeeper only sighed in reply.
Johanna stopped a step into the hall. Puss stood at her ankles, waiting to see where it was his mistress went at so late an hour. Appreciating his company upon this strange quest of hers, she glanced around the hall. As Papa took most of the male servants with him when he left, the big room seemed eerie in its emptiness, what with so few sleeping on its floor. She glanced to the side at where her dowry chests sat, seeking ease in their familiar presence. It was too dark in here to see them, there being not even enough light to make the brass gleam on the rusty-colored one. Still, she knew them as she knew herself, the brass-bound one sitting nearest to the bedcham
ber door with the green sitting between it and the brown-and-blue one.
Her courage fed, she turned toward the fireplace, the place given to Katel to sleep as befitted his rank. Since their hearth was hooded, the embers contained behind an edged stone, there was no need to cover it at night. Glowing coals, all that was left of the day's merry blaze, gilded Katel's blanketed outline. He was on his pallet.
She drew a breath in trepidation, but her need to protect Rob set her to sidling along the wall. When she reached her betrothed's pallet she knelt beside him and wrinkled her nose. He smelled as if he'd bathed in ale. Was this what Helewise meant by soaking his pride?
Puss, who had trailed along behind her, seated himself on the floor beside her. With his tail wrapped neatly around his forepaws, he waited to see what would happen next.
A thick shock of pale hair fell across Katel's face. Johanna gently brushed the strands back onto his forehead to look at him. Katel's nose twitched and he sighed, but did not awaken. He looked very different in sleep, all sweet-featured and as young as Rob. It was hard to be afraid of him.
"Wake up, Katel," she whispered, gently prodding him. It wouldn't do for Philip or the other men in the room to waken. Betrothal or not, if Helewise learned she'd come here to speak with Katel, there'd be worse than chamber pots to do. Helewise said that a woman who comported with men at night, even if she did not lay with them, deserved the title whore.
Katel's eyes blinked open, but it was another moment before he actually saw it was she who'd awakened him. "Well now, if it isn't my little wife." His words were quiet and slurred, his tone harsh. "The same wife who travels unescorted about Stanrudde, keeping company with a bastard."
At this insult to Rob, Johanna's eyes narrowed. "Rob's no bastard."
Katel's brows jerked upward, his mouth twisting in anger. "It befouls you to form his name with such familiarity," he snarled, but his words tangled one into the other until she wasn't quite certain this was what he'd said. He stopped to clear his throat and gain control of his tongue. "Speak that name to me again, and I guarantee I'll see the brat beaten for trespassing with you."
Johanna huffed in outrage, but his threat worried her. She should never have come here. Bracing her knuckles on the floor, she started to rise.
As if her motion only now brought him to full awareness, Katel's gaze cleared. "Wait, Johanna." He reached out to catch her arm and hold her in place. "I beg pardon. I am not myself this night," he said, once more sounding like last year's gentle man.
His more familiar tones made Johanna relax back onto the floor. Doubt crept into her thoughts. Mayhap his behavior at the warehouse had been but a momentary aberration. She smiled at him in relief.
Katel returned her smile then patted her cheek. "First lesson in husbands, my little wife. Never speak another man's name in their presence. Now, what are you doing here in the depths of the night? Where is Helewise? Has she not warned you that it's improper for you to come unescorted into the places where men sleep? Doing so is almost more unseemly than speaking to me about the bastard. Well if she hasn't, I vow I'll demand your father send you to the nuns."
Anger woke in her as Katel set to yet another attempt at manipulating her life. It spurred her into following through with her plan. "I came to tell you that I know the truth. You told those lads to hurt Rob."
Katel sat up so swiftly Johanna pushed herself back from him in a start of fear. He swayed unsteadily for a moment then braced himself on his arms. "Best you keep your lies to yourself." It was a quiet but vicious warning, banishing his previous gentleness, leaving behind only the Katel of the riverbank.
"I do not lie, Katel. I heard the boys talking in the abbey's marketplace. They said you'd put them to hurting Rob." There was a moment's guilt as she realized she'd broken her oath to the lads. Then her jaw stiffened. It served them right for not believing she'd keep her word anyway.
Katel belched. His eyes gleamed in the dimness as he stared at her. The sight of an empty and warm lap was more than Puss could bear. He strode delicately across Katel's blanketed legs to curl himself atop the young man's legs. In absent reaction Katel lowered his hand to stroke the cat's head, rubbing gently at Puss's ears. His reward was a loud purr.
At last, Katel said, "If you're so sure of yourself, why haven't you spilled what you think you know to Helewise?"
Johanna almost smiled as she recognized the beginning of their bartering. "Because I wish to make you an offer. I will keep what I know to myself for a price." "What price?"
"You must vow to never again try to hurt Rob or Master Colin."
"Idiot babe," he retorted. "Spill what you think you know to whomever you please. There's none who'll believe you. Now, go back to your bed, but know I will complain to Helewise in the morn that you have come and disturbed me at my rest."
Even though he put a sharp edge to his voice, Johanna recognized the next step in their trade. This was just how Papa said it would be: you named your price knowing the buyer would refuse and disparage your wares, then you call him back to you with a better offer.
"If Helewise beats me, I'll have to tell her what I know," she said in quiet triumph, "and she'll have to tell Papa."
Yet stroking the cat Katel eyed her a moment as if trying to read her thoughts, then his brows lifted. "Mayhap we can come to some agreement. To set your heart at ease I’ll give you my vow never to hurt the bastard or Master Colin, but you must give me what I want in return."
"What?" she asked, now certain of triumph.
"You must enter the convent school by week's end."
Johanna gasped, shocked and ready to refuse his counteroffer. Then deep within her, a glow took life. That she should sacrifice herself to save Rob and Master Colin was right and just as it should be. Indeed, since she no longer wished to wed with Katel, it was the only answer.
In that moment Johanna recognized her destiny. She was fated to be a martyr, or mayhap even a saint. Saints and holy women almost always refused to give up their maidenheads, sometimes even to their husbands. Of course, this usually often cost them their lives, often in the most hideous of ways, but that was a worry for later. Just now, she could almost feel the glow of godliness ringing her head.
Best of all, if she was mistaken about this calling or found she truly hated the convent, she need only wait until Papa returned. When she complained he'd bring her home. Johanna nodded. "Aye, I'll do it, but only if you vow to me. Put your hand upon your heart as you do so to make it right."
Lifting his hand from Puss's head, Katel laid his palm against his chest. "Before God and all His saints I vow never to harm either the bastard—"
"Say Robert of Blacklea," she interrupted.
"Robert of Blacklea," Katel said in a choked voice, "or Master Colin on pain of my own death. How's that, little wife?" he asked, harsh amusement lingering at the edges of his words.
"I accept your oath," she replied solemnly.
He laughed at her. It was not a pleasant sound. "Good. Now, return to bed, remembering I will hold you to this agreement." He settled himself back down upon his pallet, careful not to dislodge the cat as he pulled the blankets over his head.
Johanna drifted back to the bedchamber, yet buoyed by impending sainthood. Rob would be safe. Master Colin would be safe. And she'd have no more mending to do.
Stanrudde
An hour past Terce
Saint Agnes's Day, 1197
The bedcurtain rings squealed against their wooden pole as the draperies were pushed aside, then footsteps retreated from the bedside toward the room's far edge. This startled Rob as he had no recall of returning to the hospitium or of going to bed. Opening his eyes, he squinted as the sun's cheerful brightness stabbed into his yet wine-sodden brain.
As he shifted on the soft mattress, seeking to escape the light, a wholly different sort of pain stabbed through him. "Jesu," he whispered as his head nigh on split in twain. This was the price he paid for attempting to wash Johanna from his system with wine.
/>
Colin's brew had done more than ease his aches; it had filled the emptiness made when he'd left Johanna's arms. By the time Hamalin announced that their party was prepared to leave, Rob was no longer sober enough to sit a horse. He remembered little after that save that with each cup there was less of Johanna left within him.
Rolling onto his back, he waited until the throbbing eased, then probed his heart to see just how successful he'd been. Bits and pieces of her remained, memories, warm and sweet, but the aching guilt he'd carried for so long was gone. His heart was at peace.
Despite his discomfort, Rob nearly smiled. Now could he ride for Lynn, and, when he was again within his own walls, let the world know he was ready to wed. Giving free rein to his imagination, he tried to concoct the image of his perfect mate. She formed slowly in his inner eye: time had darkened her hair to a color more red than gold, her eyes were as blue as a summer's sky, her lips, reddened from his kiss.
With a frustrated groan, he tried to yank the blankets over his head. They were too short. "You cannot be my wife when the world believes you married to another," he told his imaginary Johanna.
"What's that you say, my good master?" Hamalin's voice matched the sun for its cheeriness. "Speaking to your friend, the flask?"
Taking care as to how he moved his head, Rob eased to the side until he could see his agent. Fair hair and reddish beard gleaming in the light, Hamalin sat in the room's chair. He wore his taunting grin as easily as he did his traveling attire: knee-length brown tunic, warm boots cross-gartered over thick chausses, and heavy cloak atop it all.
"What? Are you not wanting to leap from your mattress and gallop home?" this cocky servant asked.
"Mercy, Hamalin," Rob begged softly. "My head is already telling me how great a fool I am. There's no need for redundancy."
"Mercy, is it?" Bracing one ankle atop the opposite knee, Hamalin leaned back into the chair. Every line of his comely face said he was enjoying the outcome of his master's previous evening. "I am the one who should be crying for mercy. I had to sit and listen to the two of you sing."
A Love For All Seasons Page 14