by Kris Tualla
“Do you mean more than one? Like whores?”
Avery shook her head. “No. Whores are meaningless.”
“They carry diseases.”
Avery scowled. “I am quite well aware of that, obviously. But I am talking about a woman who he sees often, and may even claim to love.”
Catherine’s expression hardened. “Like Jane Popincourt?”
“Oh, Cathy. I’m so sorry!” Avery gripped her friend’s hand, wishing she had considered this idea more thoroughly before jumping into it. “I didn’t mean to bring up such sad memories.”
Catherine’s expression did not change. “Why is this weighing on you now?”
“I—I had a dream last night,” Avery improvised. “Paolo was in bed with another woman and they were laughing at me.”
Catherine scoffed. “Did you laugh back?”
Avery let her shoulders slump. “I am being quite serious, Catherine.”
The queen appeared contrite at that. “I’m sorry, Avery. I do not mean to belittle your thoughts.”
Avery sighed. “It prompted me to think about whether or not I would want to know.”
Catherine frowned. “Whether or not you would want to know what?”
Avery squeezed her friend’s hand. “Other than the whores, would I want to know if my husband had a mistress whom he claimed to love, and if he and she were laughing at me behind my back.”
Catherine pulled her hand away and crossed her arms over her waist. “What was your answer?”
“My honest answer is that I cannot decide.”
Catherine turned her face aside and stared at the shoreline in silence for so long, Avery thought the queen was either furious with her for broaching the subject, or never going to express her opinion.
“Do not think about it anymore, Catherine,” Avery begged.
The queen cut her gaze to Avery.
“I should have thought about your situation before I said anything,” Avery continued. “And it is a thoroughly meaningless consideration, at this point.”
“How did you feel when that maid offered Jakob her favor and he accepted it?”
Avery sat back in her seat. The unexpected question felt like a punch in her gut. “We are not married.”
“This is not a question about marriage, it is a question about feelings.” Catherine leaned forward. “How did you feel?”
“I did not like it,” Avery admitted. “I was jealous. You were right.”
“Multiply that ten times, or a hundred. You know that your husband, who claims to love you above all others, has others.” Catherine’s eyes flashed. “Do you want to know this? Do you want to wonder every time he leaves your side, if he is going to hers?”
Avery was horrified by Catherine’s candor. “No. I would not.”
“You would prefer to live your life in ignorance, and believe that he loves only you?” she pressed.
The reality of Jakob’s assertion that he was protecting Catherine slapped Avery across the face.
The Nordic knight was being proved right.
“I have not found myself in that situation, and at this point in my life I never shall,” Avery said slowly. “But if I truly loved my husband, I believe that I would rather be ignorant.”
Catherine narrowed her eyes. “Are you certain?’
Avery regarded her friend with a tenderness that reached to the very bottom of her soul. “I am, Cathy. Because the heartbreak and humiliation would kill me.”
Catherine gave a heavy sigh. “No, Averia. You would live with the humiliation. The heartbreak, however, is another thing entirely.”
The barge slid through the arched opening and sidled up to the private dock at the Tower. Avery had one last thing to say before they disembarked.
“I love you, Cathy.”
The queen reached out and touched her cheek. “And I love you, my dearest friend.”
*****
Jakob saw Avery coming down the formal stairs. He grinned like an idiot when her eyes met his.
When she reached the floor, he moved to her side and leaned over to whisper in her ear. “I want to sweep you up in my arms and carry you away so we can be alone.”
Avery smacked his chest with her lace fan. “Sir Hansen, you are still incorrigible.”
“Og du liker meg for dette.” And you like me for this.
“Jeg liker deg for mange ting.” I like you for many things.
Jakob laughed. “I need to know about these many things.”
Avery turned her back on the tournament-expanded supper crowd. “If I could forgo supper this eventide, I would—but both of our absences would be noted. However, I do wish to discuss something with you later, if you would not mind.”
Jakob inhaled the clean scent that defined the Lady Avery Albergar. “I am your servant, my love.”
Avery stepped back and stared up into his eyes. “What did you say?”
Jakob tilted his head. “I said, I am your servant, my lady.”
“Oh.” She flipped her fan open and applied its cooling effect to her flushed face. “I thought you said something else.”
“What did you think I said?”
“It does not matter.” She nodded toward the opening doorway. “Will you escort me inside?”
Jakob offered her his elbow. “With great pleasure.”
He led her to their usual seats, only to find those seats had been claimed by a couple of the noble guests in attendance for the tournament. After several minutes spent searching for a place to sit, Jakob presented a plan.
“The hall is so crowded, neither Henry nor Catherine will mark our disappearance. I say we each go and speak to them, so we are noticed and remembered. Then we leave the Tower and find our supper alone at a tavern.”
Avery gave him a grateful smile. “I believe that is a wonderful idea.”
Jakob used his body as a sort of ice breaker, pushing through the crowd of residents and guests, and pulling Lady Avery along in his wake. When they reached the front of the massive room, and the head table where Henry and Catherine sat, he pushed Avery toward the queen while he addressed Henry.
“Forgive me your Grace, but what event is in the morning?”
Henry looked up at Jakob. “Wrestling will be at ten o’clock. Casting the barre will take place after the midday meal is finished.”
Jakob saw that Avery was still conversing with Catherine, so he asked, “The meal will be served at the field?”
“That is the plan, yes.”
“Thank you, your Grace. I did not wish to be late.” Jakob bowed and backed away from the king before turning and stepping down from the raised platform.
He waited there for Avery to finish with Catherine. She kissed the queen on the cheek and slipped behind Henry’s chair, her eyes bright with the excitement of their clandestine escape.
She slipped her arm through his. “Lead on, Sir Knight. I place myself in your capable care.”
*****
William the Conqueror built the White Tower on the bank of the river Thames for obvious transportation and supply reasons. With the docks of London dispensing the needs of the enormous enclosure’s occupants, inns and taverns to serve the ships’ crews were in ample supply.
Jakob and Avery walked arm in arm past the guards’ tower. Higgins grinned at her and touched his forehead in respect. “Have a good evening, my lady. My lord.”
And then he winked. Avery blushed.
Through her nighttime wanderings, combined with the honest comments from Lizzy, Avery knew which establishments were to be preferred for cleanliness, clientele, and food.
“Follow me,” she said to Jakob. “I know the perfect place.”
The tavern of choice was on Tower Hill, somewhat removed from the rowdy docks. Avery led Jakob to a table in the corner, one conducive to conversation. He held her chair, and then took the one next to hers.
“What is best here?” he asked.
Avery smiled, happy to have him so close. “They make an eel stew
that is better than any I have had from the Tower kitchens.”
“Eel stew it shall be.” Jakob’s leg pressed against hers under the table. “Shall I order ale or wine?”
“Wine, please. Ask for the burgundy.”
Jakob stood and went to order their supper. Soon after he returned to the table, a serving girl brought a loaf of bread, the decanted burgundy, and two pewter goblets.
Jakob poured their wine. “What did you wish to speak to me about?”
Avery glanced around them, but no one was near enough to overhear their conversation. Even so, she chose her words carefully.
“Do you recall our discussion about protecting my friend?”
Jakob set the decanter down and nodded. “I do.”
“Well… I asked her for her opinion today.”
Jakob’s eyes widened in surprise. “Was that wise?”
Avery leaned closer and lowered her voice. “I told her that I had a dream about my husband. He was in bed with a woman and laughing at me.”
“And then?”
“And then I said I couldn’t decide if I wanted to know if he loved another woman, and what did she think?”
Jakob gave her an approving look. “Clever. What did she say?”
“She said if I truly loved my husband, I could live with the humiliation, but the heartache was unbearable.”
“So I am right? About protecting her?” Jakob did not look at all happy about his victory. Why would he? The situation held no redeeming aspect.
Avery gave him a resigned look. “You are, I am sorry to say.”
Jakob reached for her hand. “Now that is settled, and we do not need to speak of it again.”
“Yes.”
He lifted his wine goblet in salute. “We will now speak about us.”
Avery tapped her goblet against his and took a deep sip. The wine was delicious. Then she set the cup down and pinned him with narrowed eyes.
“We will speak about whose favor you shall wear on the morrow.”
Jakob groaned. “I have no choice.”
“That woman with the braided ribbon was Henry’s mistress, was it not?”
“It was.”
“Tell me why you have no choice.”
Jakob looked stricken. “When Henry first told me he would have her in the tent, I said it was a bad idea.”
“Of course it was a bad idea!” Avery gave her head a small shake. “She is a maid-of-honor in the court.”
Jakob’s jaw fell open. “Do you know her?”
“I only thought she looked familiar, and so I asked Catherine who she was.”
Jakob smacked a hand against his forehead. “Does she know her?”
“No. She has not yet been promoted to lady-in-waiting, so Catherine has had little to do with her.” Avery lifted her cup first this time. “Thank the Lord for tender mercies.”
Jakob tapped his goblet against hers in agreement. “She may be at court, but she has a house where Henry meets her.”
Avery’s shoulder slumped. This affaire was clearly more serious than his dalliance with the Popincourt woman. “I would imagine he procured it for her family for that purpose.”
“Yes. I think so.” Jakob drained his cup and refilled it.
“What is her name?” Avery realized of a sudden that she did not have confirmation of the woman’s identity.
“He calls her Bessie.” Jakob leaned back as a steaming bowl of eel stew was set in front of him. He inhaled the scent. “This smells very good.”
Avery waited until her stew was served and the girl was across the room before she spoke again. “Blount?”
Jakob paused in mid-bite. “Yes.”
“The family name I was given was Blount,” she said softly. “But Catherine was only told the girl’s Christian name, Elizabeth. Bessie is one of several nicknames for Elizabeth.”
Jakob’s brow wrinkled. “I do not understand nickname.”
“A nickname is an additional name, used to designate which Elizabeth is being referred to,” Avery explained slowly. “Because Elizabeth is such a common name, there are several common variations. And Bessie is a diminutive of Beth.”
Jakob watched her mouth carefully throughout her discourse. “Diminutive. That is the same as Norsk. Diminutiv.” He smiled. “Now you have learned another word.”
“Yes, now I have.” She gave him an overly sweet smile in return. “You have not yet told me why you cannot wear my favor.”
Jakob looked at her, his blue gaze piercing hers. “You know.”
“Do I?” She believed she did, but…
Jakob lifted one brow and waited.
Avery sighed her defeat. “Because when she cheers for you, Henry knows she is actually cheering for him.”
Jakob pointed his dripping spoon in her direction. “I knew you understood. I saw it this afternoon.”
“And Henry expects you to wear her favor every day.” It was not a question.
“He does.”
For some reason, which she did not wish to examine, this situation bothered her deeply. Jakob’s explanation of Henry’s logic made perfect sense. Added to the agreement that protecting Catherine was worth the deception, justified all of Henry’s plans.
But he’s mine. Not hers.
Jakob leaned over and spoke softly in her ear. “Do not be so sad Avery. You know where my heart rests.”
Those words surprised her. “Did I look sad?”
His expression shifted and warmed her to her core. “You did.”
When she did not reply, he asked, “What were your very sad thoughts?”
Avery spoke before she lost her courage. “I was thinking that you are not hers. You are mine.”
Jakob’s gaze washed over her face, as if to determine the veracity of her words. “I am yours,” he whispered. “I am wholly yours. No one else’s.”
His words brought her more pain than pleasure. “For a short time.”
Jakob leaned away from her. “For a short time.”
Avery’s throat thickened. “I wish I had met you years ago.”
He shook his head as he refilled her goblet. “Years ago I was not the same man. And I think you were not the same woman.”
Avery sipped her refreshed wine, hiding behind the cup while she considered his words. The Norseman was wise, she had to admit. What he said was very true.
“I suppose I should be happy that I know you now.”
Jakob smiled, his eyes pinching at the corners and deepening the lines of his maturity. “I am happy to know you, Avery. You have changed me.”
He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it, the lingering touch of his lips promising her so much more. Her heart stepped up its cadence, and felt as if it had impossibly grown to fill her chest.
He lowered her hand, but still held it. “You have changed me. For a long time.”
*****
Jakob slipped into his room as the eastern sky was beginning to lighten. Judging by the chimes of the castellated clock, he could go to his bed for four or five hours before he must prepare for the day’s challenges.
While the bed was easily attainable, he was afraid sleep would elude him. Too many thoughts filled his head, few of which were in any manner plausible, and the frustration they caused stabbed at him.
Winning Avery’s heart began as a sort of game. He never anticipated he would fall in love in the process. Now he was in so deeply, that he felt as if his head was beneath the surface of a deep glacial pool.
The most disturbing part of his situation was the startling realization that he had never really learned how to love. He could see now that his affections for young Uma were built upon the thrill of their secret and forbidden affaire.
Sneaking off to be married was foolish. When Uma’s parents turned their back on her for defying their dictum, she insisted that she did not care—that being his wife was enough to sustain her for the rest of her days.
Jakob knew now, that could never be the case.
As fo
r himself, marrying without the king’s permission meant that the marriage could be dissolved. In addition to that, he could lose his position in the king’s service, leaving him penniless to support his new family. But he never thought about any of that, so enamored was he with the beautiful Uma.
As much as the thought ripped at his gut, when Uma died in the fire, both of them were spared further consequences. And as Jakob’s penance for surviving her, the constant stiffness and pain in his thigh reminded him daily of his impetuous actions.
Jakob stretched out on his back, naked against the sheets, and closed his eyes. If he forced them to stay closed, his brain might be lulled to sleep.
He slipped tonight and called Avery my love. The moment those words passed his lips he longed to call them back. Not because they weren’t true, but because they were.
Jakob’s new understanding of what love was truly comprised of made him feel akin to an infant just starting to crawl. And the more strongly he felt about Avery, the more his pursuit of her grew tentative, awkward. Stumbling.
He smiled at the ceiling, his eyes still closed.
There remained one area of their burgeoning relationship, however, where he held no uncertainty.
After leaving the tavern at one hour past midnight, they walked the quiet London streets in a winding path back to the Tower. Higgins, bless the man, had remained at his post until they returned, and let them in through the locked gates. They moved quietly up to Avery’s chambers and spent the latter hours together.
When he held Avery in his arms, close to his chest, thigh pressed to thigh, he seemed to melt into her to become one being. Clothing was no barrier in his mind. The taste of her mouth and the touch of her hands made him feel as connected to her as he ever felt when making love to Uma.
To imagine what sort of pleasure might be attained by fully making love to the desirable Lady Avery sorely tested his resolve. To have nothing between them—no clothing, no dead spouses, no disappointments, no guilt or remorse of any kind—was a dizzying concept.
Jakob believed the experience might rival Heaven itself. Even so, he would hold true to his promise to remain chaste with her. His integrity as a knight and a man demanded that he do so.