The Everlasting Covenant

by Robyn Carr

  “I highly doubt that, Anne. Not while you are busy bringing your son into manhood.”

  Anne backed away from the writing table. Why did Marcella never say it? She meant to hold Sloan’s birthright over her head like an ax. Sudden fury engulfed her. “It was a child you first threatened, madam, but I am a child no more. And you are correct, I will do anything I have to do to protect those I love. You had better hear this truth, though: your secret is valuable only as long as I keep it as well.”

  “As if you would tell the truth now,” Marcella said, dropping the letter onto her stack.

  “You may be assured that Lord Forbes would take my word over yours, madam. I warn you, do not test the matter. You might find yourself without resources.”

  “When you think this over, my dear, you will realize how foolish your suggestion is.”

  Anger shook Anne so severely that she could not keep her hands still. Her face was red with fury. She struggled to keep her composure when she felt compelled to strike that indifference, that dispassionate countenance from Marcella’s face. “You could have had so much more had you been gentle and kind, had you done things differently. All I ever wanted was your love. All Divina ever wanted ...” Anne’s voice cracked and she stopped.

  “Had I done things differently, I would have a daughter wed to an exile, an enemy! It is easy for you to criticize, to begrudge me what little I request, while you live in such luxury. You should thank me.”

  Anne looked at her mother with fury. “I will never thank you,” she said quietly. “I blame you!”

  The hardest truth Anne had borne in her life came to her in certainty that day. She had tried to control her mother with a mien of cooperation. She realized her mistake too late. She should have robbed Marcella of the chance to pursue this conspiracy long ago. They would all be better off had she told Brennan the truth and refused to marry him. She would have been punished, exiled, perhaps sent to a convent to bear her child in shame ... but she would not have found herself in these straits, with so many more people who could be hurt.

  She would have to prove herself more clever than Marcella, or watch as her family, the Forbes family, suffered the consequences.

  “I am going to have Divina’s body brought here for burial. Her presence will serve to remind us both of the cost of this secret. And then I will join my husband in London. I desire that you stay here and even if you do not mourn Divina in your heart, you may act the part. And I warn you, madam, do not make the admission of my painful sin preferable to your devious manipulations.”

  “You will change your mind, Anne.”

  “You had better hope so, madam.”

  ***

  “I’m afraid it cannot be helped, my love,” Brennan said patiently. “If I do not travel to Ramsford soon, I will be prevented from going at all. The winter winds will close the keep to visitors in another month.” Anne sighed wearily in response. They had been together for only a month. “Perhaps I will find a new man in my son,” Brennan went on. “Perhaps he has learned a valuable lesson and is ready to behave responsibly.” He sighed and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He decided he was not an unhandsome man for his age. And his wife did not wish to be separated from him. Few men had as much. “More likely I will find the same surly colt I left, I cannot say where I failed with Brainard. I thought I did all a father could do.”

  “Brennan, I ...” She paused and chewed her lip. At some point she had to confront him. She could not think of a more difficult issue. “Brennan, I am afraid of Brainard. I am afraid for Sloan.”

  “Sloan will have his due, I promise you that.”

  She patted her stomach, her pregnancy not yet obvious, but she was aware of the new babe. Conceived in June, the baby would come in the winter, in the city. She longed to give birth at Ayliffe, but unless she went now, before the heavy snows of winter, it would be impossible. “And if this is another son? How will you see to them all? I doubt Brainard will be docile while his estate is divided.”

  Brennan looked directly into her eyes. “I am a rich man. There is plenty.”

  She met his stare. Of course there was plenty, provided Brainard was generous, an unlikely possibility. It was unnecessary to explain this to Brennan, however. His eyes showed that he understood the unspoken worry.

  “I will be gone only a month, my love. And if I do not find better behavior in my son, I will take steps to protect my other children. I will warn Brainard only once.”

  She walked across the bedchamber and stood before him.

  She placed her hand against his chest and looked into his eyes. “Take very special care, Brennan. Brainard is a selfish, angry young man.” Anne was more than a little concerned that Brainard might harm his own father.

  Brennan gave her a light kiss on the lips. “I will hurry back to you.”

  “May I have your leave to go to our London house if the queen does not require me?”

  “If that is your wish, but I cannot imagine you having time. Is it not your mission to find a lot of wives for your brothers from the queen’s own stock?”

  She smiled at him. He was so patient with the demands of her family. “I am more comfortable in our home. I would, of course, prefer Ayliffe.”

  Brennan’s eyes became wistful and soft, as if in memory. He looked away from her face. “I wish my son cared as much for Ayliffe as you. I would rest easier, even with respect to Sloan, if I thought Brainard treasured the place. But he has no idea what he has in that beautiful gem.”

  “Brennan, it is a very rare man who does not become spoiled by such luxury. Just be very careful, my lord. Do not anger him any further.”

  ***

  In a month, Anne had not had a private audience with the queen, though she was often in her company with the other women. When Brennan had taken a small troop toward Ramsford and Edward had ridden out for one last good hunt before winter fell hard on them, Anne took a rare liberty. She ventured to the queen’s chamber in the evening. She asked the guard to tell the queen she requested a moment and was informed that Elizabeth was with her brother, Anthony Woodville. “I will wait until she is finished with Lord Scales, if you will ask her to see me,” Anne quietly requested.

  Anne was not surprised that Elizabeth invited her in. She found the queen seated within a round of large pillows and Anthony nearby. It appeared to be little more than a social visit between brother and sister.

  Anne bowed low, and Elizabeth put her instantly at ease. “Be comfortable, Anne. We will have music in a few moments. Did I hear the earl had some business abroad?”

  “Aye, my liege, he is bound for his keep of Ramsford near Ludlow. His son resides there.”

  “Ah ... that was it. I don’t think I remember his son. What brings you to me at such a late hour, Anne?”

  She glanced uncertainly at Anthony. He was a handsome, powerful man, gaining a strong reputation as the best knight in all Edward’s domain. “It was ... that is ... I had asked Your Majesty ...”

  “You needn’t be shy with Lord Scales, pet. He will keep our secrets,” she said with a teasing smile.

  “ ‘Tis not a secret, my liege, yet my kinsmen would wonder greatly at my part in this. It is for Madam deFrayne, late of Heathwick, that I make this request. Her husband and eldest son were killed at Saint Albans and her younger two sons fled the country in exile. Her homelands were taken and she has nothing, save her sons. They would swear fealty to Edward, if a compromise could be met.”

  “DeFrayne? My liege, I know the deFrayne knights,” Anthony said. “I knew them well in Calais ... and other places. They are good fighters, good men.”

  “I remember your request, dear Anne, but I did not find the time right to ask His Majesty to pardon more criminals.” Elizabeth smiled then. “Yet, when he has been away a-hunting he hears many requests with patience. If Anthony will vouch for the men, I will speak to the king.”

  “I would speak on their behalf myself,” Anthony said. “Twas I who set Dylan deFrayne on th
e path of our cousin, Raynia Blakely, Lord Blakely’s only daughter. The little dark one. Do you remember her?”

  The queen made a face, but did not explain her expression. “He has married quite close. That should help.”

  “In like, Cameron deFrayne wed a Neville cousin. Both weddings, I perceive, were managed for the sole purpose of returning the men to England.”

  “I will see to it, Anne. Anthony will help.”

  “I thank you, my liege. It is not for myself, but their family suffered grave losses, and they were once very strong. And if I may beg a courtesy--my kinsmen, most especially my mother, have little pity for them. They would mislike my aid to deFraynes.”

  “Nothing will be said, sweeting. Many survived Saint Albans to come begging this sovereign for help.” Her blue eyes sparkled as she looked at Anne. Of course John Grey was killed in that battle as he fought for King Henry. And so had Anthony Woodville fled England on account of his allegiance having been on the wrong side.

  Anthony laughed graciously. “We will mention Saint Albans as little as possible in this request, little one. Certes, if we mention any battle, it is only to praise His Majesty’s great skill in fighting.”

  “Among us, not even His Majesty enjoys remembrances of that black day,” Elizabeth said with a grimace.

  Anne felt tears fill her eyes suddenly, an affliction she had not foreseen. She had been a little frightened to remind Elizabeth of this favor, and now she was overwhelmed at the thought of Dylan’s return. She was assailed by joy, fear, and a multitude of conflicting emotions. She tried to cover her tears by kissing the queen’s hands, but it was a clumsy and futile attempt.

  “Here, sweeting, what is it? I bless you for your sympathy for Madam deFrayne, but my lady, why do you weep?”

  Anne sat back on her heels before the queen and wiped self-consciously at her tears. “I ... oh, Your Majesty, I find this happens to me often these days. I weep for no reason, or for some sentimental silliness. ... I am enceinte, and sometimes I wish I felt ill rather than suffer this affliction. It mortifies me so.”

  Elizabeth’s hand was gentle on her cheek. “Dear sweet, do not be embarrassed ... not with me.” With a finger under her chin, she forced Anne to meet her eyes. “Are you well?”

  “Oh yes, my liege.”

  “You are so pleased for Madam deFrayne? Do you know her sons?”

  “Nay, my liege ... that is, I am pleased for her and her sons, but I am not acquainted. My family ... their youngest, Sir Dylan, was a prisoner in our home once, but was released. His mother will be ...” Her voice trailed off, her excuses combined with her undignified blubbering confused her request and diminished her courtly appearance.

  Elizabeth sat back, studying Anne. “Perhaps you should not pursue the matter any further. Anthony will see it done.”

  “Aye, Your Majesty.”

  “You must be excused until you feel better. Leave the matter with us and go with a light heart. We love you so. You must stay well.”

  The suspicious look in the queen’s eyes did not comfort Anne. Anne gave the matter serious thought. If she was driven to such extremes by mere mention of Dylan, how would she react when she actually saw him? She would see him if Anthony brought him home. She remembered the chance meeting with Daphne, and it caused her to shudder.

  Once settled in the city, she embarked on her first errand with only her loyal Jane to accompany her. She knew that she must take a grave chance. She went to Daphne deFrayne, explaining first that Anthony Woodville and the queen had both promised to help.

  “Madam, I am very frightened,” she said, her voice trembling. “I must speak to you in confidence, and I beg you, keep my words in sacred trust. I suspect you will understand.”

  Daphne nodded, pulling Anne’s hands into her own. But Anne could not look Dylan’s mother in the eye.

  “I am honorably wed to a powerful and strong man. He is very kind to me; he pampers me overmuch. I have a son and I carry my second child now. Madam, you must not tell Dylan that I have played any part in his return.” She looked up. “Please, I must not see him. There was too much ...”

  Daphne hushed her and smiled. “Anne, my dear sweet, if my son is brought home through efforts of Lord Scales and the queen, you cannot avoid him for very long. As you wait upon the queen, and Dylan, by the grace of God and your generosity, works to prove his fealty to Edward through Anthony, there will be a time when you will find yourselves in the same room.” Anne shuddered involuntarily. “You must be prepared, Anne. You cannot let all your feelings show.”

  “The longer such a meeting is delayed, the better for me,” she said, praying Daphne would not probe too deeply. “My children, madam, need their mother’s protection.”

  Daphne patted Anne’s hand. “Come back to me in a fortnight, Anne. On this same day, at this same time. We will talk again. By the time you meet Dylan in a royal presence chamber, you will be controlled. I will help you all I can.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Jane was Anne’s closest friend. Though she had been brought Jane into the Ayliffe household by Brennan, the servant belonged to the countess, in body and soul. After nearly five years they had become dear to each other, very nearly confidential friends. And Anne trusted her implicitly.

  She told Jane some parts of her secret conversation with Lady deFrayne, the significant truth being that her own family would be appalled to learn she would even consider trying to help that family. Of course, Jane was more than sympathetic, for Marcella was a difficult woman to abide. As Anne also explained, she did not want to involve her husband lest he, too, should oppose her interference. Jane seemed to accept all this.

  Jane was, therefore, Anne’s only escort and companion to the home of Daphne deFrayne. Two squires led their palfreys to Knightrider Street, where the women left them and walked on alone from there.

  Anne frowned in concern when a man answered her knock at the modest residence. He seemed to be expecting her and asked, “Lady Forbes?” The man was not dressed as a house servant – he was tall and strong, under thirty years, and wore a knight’s informal clothing of tunic and hose. She nodded in affirmation and stepped into the house warily, Jane following.

  All her questions were answered with a rush of emotion. She saw him standing across the room and did not know what to do, her surprise was so great. Her eyes grew large and round, her hands began to tremble, and she simply stared at him, words failing her. He wore a plain linen shirt that was open at the neck and belted at the waist. His hair was overlong, his face tanned, his eyes glittering like the turquoise gems in her dreams. He wore boots and chausses and a leather jerkin, all the look of a knight at leisure, not an exile in trouble. She was silent and stunned for so long that Dylan approached her, a faint and reassuring smile playing on his lips.

  “Is this your tiring woman, madam?” he asked.

  “Yes ... yes, this is Jane. She accompanies me everywhere.”

  Dylan gave Jane a brief, informal bow. “I am Dylan deFrayne, Madam deFrayne’s son. I am sorry to surprise you, Lady Forbes, but my lady mother asked me to greet you. This is Sir Markham. He is in service to me and would take your tiring woman to the cookery for a modest repast.” He chuckled as if embarrassed. “‘Tis modest, indeed, but will suffice to give your woman company and our meager hospitality while my mother and I confer with you.”

  Anne looked at Jane and nodded, indicating she should go with the man. She tried to smile, but kept her eyes blank so that Jane would not worry. In her breast a wild mixture of explosive feelings pounded and swirled as she fought for control. She had no idea which of her feelings showed in her eyes. He was married now, she reminded herself. They were both married to other people. Which marriage should worry her most? Perhaps he loved his wife deeply. Why was he here at all? Was this how Daphne proposed to help her? She had arranged something that could be either painful beyond words, or illicit beyond description.

  Dylan seemed to have complete control. He took Anne’s han
d in a very decent and courtly fashion, leading her to one of only a few comfortable chairs in the central room at the front of the small house. He was quiet until he heard Mark close the door far to the rear of the house.

  “You did not know I would be here.” It was not a question, but a statement. Anne shook her head. In this humble dwelling there was very little furniture, but it was clean, and a fire lay blazing in the hearth. Still, she shivered. She uncovered her head, but pulled her cloak more tightly about her. “My mother is not here,” he said. “She took the decision away from us, it appears. She planned this.”

  “Why?” she asked in a breath.

  Dylan shrugged his shoulders but held her eyes. “In Madam’s own words, ‘The young woman’s feelings shine in her eyes for all the world to see, as do your own, and if you do not have a moment alone to talk, to become reacquainted and lay your hurts and disappointments to rest, one of you will crumble into tears ... perhaps in the queen’s own presence chamber.’ Would you have come, had you known?” he asked.

  Again she shook her head, tearing her eyes away from his gaze. “How could I?” she replied.

  Dylan was left to stare at her forehead, her eyes lowered. He judged the richness of the cloak and the ring on her finger, and it brought him no pleasure at all. He found his unselfish love had limits. “What feelings did my mother speak of then?” he asked. “Was it shame my mother saw? Nay, it could not be that. How could the Countess of Ayliffe feel shame? Is the countess ashamed of the earl’s devotion?”

  Anne looked up in surprise and engaged those eyes again. Never tell him, Dylan had warned. He will care for you and keep you safe. “He is good to me, Dylan. He loves me much.”

  “He dresses you well. I would have expected that much.”

  “You know such things have never interested me ...”

  “I am told you have a son by the earl. That must endear you to him even more.”