She would learn how to milk cows, go and find work on a farm if she had to and he might never find her. He felt that involuntary smile again as he visualised her seated on one of those tiny stools, her skirts hitched up while she pulled at the teats of a huge, noisy cow. But she would do it and he knew she would do it. The smile died when he remembered he might never see her again, and all because of a spoilt brat who could not have her own way.
He clenched his fists in sudden anger. His beloved wife thought he wanted to kill her, but if there was one person he would gleefully have strangled many times this year it was Lady Camilla Austin. She was the one who had started Antonia on her road to possible destruction and now she was living in luxury in the north, looking forward to the day she would be addressed as 'Your Grace', and safe among the nobility and peasants who had never turned to the Protestant church.
He had been showing the small portrait to a footman at the end of the gallery, thinking servants noticed more than their employers, when he turned and saw a girl he could have sworn was Antonia. But she was a long way off and he knew he was wrong when she opened a nearby door and disappeared inside. He shook his head to clear it; he was imagining things now, but he continued along the gallery, trying to keep his eyes fixed on the door he thought she had gone through.
He put an ear to the door, but heard nothing. These doors were so thick someone would have to be screaming to be heard, especially above the noise going on elsewhere in the palace.
"Can I help you, My Lord?" A servant wearing royal livery had stopped beside him, was looking at him suspiciously.
"Whose suite is this?" He asked.
"Lord and Lady Summerville," he replied. "Does Your Lordship want me to announce you?"
"No," Robert replied quickly. "I have the wrong suite."
He hurried away, feeling the eyes of the curious servant following him. It could not have been Antonia, not disappearing into that man's apartment; at least he hoped not. As well as his famous loyalty to the Queen and the Church of Rome, the man had something of a reputation with women. But the servant had said he had his wife with him, which was a relief.
He returned to his own suite to find a servant unpacking his meagre belongings. He had brought just enough for the procession, the ceremony and the banquets the following day. Then he would be gone, showing the portrait to others, praying someone would have seen her.
He placed it on his dresser and sat on the bed while the man continued to hang his clothes; he noticed his glance moving to the portrait.
"Have you seen her?" He asked.
"I think I might have, My Lord," the servant replied.
Robert stared at him angrily, certain he knew where Antonia was but would not say without some financial lubrication.
"How much?" He demanded.
"Really, My Lord, I would not dream..."
"How much?" He took out his purse and pushed some coins into the man's hand. "Well?"
"She is staying in the suite of Lord and Lady Durston, My Lord. I was told she is Her Ladyship's companion but..."
"But?"
"You will not tell them it was me who gave you the word, will you?"
Robert turned away in disgust after finding out which apartment Lord Durston occupied. He would wait until tonight, until there was less activity. If Antonia was here as a paid companion she would not be joining her employers at the banquet tonight and she would not eat with the servants either. That could well be a good time for him to find her alone.
"If she is warned, I will know by whom," Robert told the servant.
"Yes, My Lord. I will not say a word, I swear."
He dismissed the servant and lie down on his bed, his hands behind his head as he thought about the best way to approach her and how he was ever going to convince her he had not tried to poison her. Would she ever believe that? Camilla was married now, but Antonia would never lower herself to return to a man who had once tried to kill her. And she had to return; he wanted her back so badly he felt that he would die from it. He had thought of nothing else since she went away. He had left the estate in the charge of one of the bailiffs, could not give his mind to anything but finding Antonia.
He remembered their wedding night, how much love she had given him, what a delightful surprise her passionate nature had been. Once awakened, that passion matched his own and he had known then that they were made for each other, that he adored her. But he had never told her that and if he had, she might not have suspected him so easily.
He could almost feel her in his arms, could almost feel her flesh against his during those nights they had been one with each other. He knew again the anguish when she was so ill and he thought he might lose her, that the angels might not want to wait for one of their own.
He had to make her see the truth. Even if Camilla or her maid told her she would not believe it, would she? She had no reason to believe them. Once more he felt his jaw clench in anger; if Camilla were here right now his father's violent temper would surface for sure.
He had slept little since she went away. Every time he dozed he could hear her teasing laughter, remembered how amusing she had found him. He had been so self important, so sure of his own position. He waited for some flirtation from her, but he soon realised it would never happen. He was so convinced that every woman he met was waiting to throw herself at his feet, and she had laughed at him! He had been furious the first time she did it, but he gradually came to realise that here was the first honest woman he had ever met.
Antonia decided the safest place for her was in the Durstons' apartments. Robert was here, in the palace; she had had a narrow escape in avoiding him and she would not risk it again.
There were many people here who would be glad to return her to her husband once they knew he was not the violent man they thought he was and she wondered how long it would be before it was revealed. Despite Lady Summerville's assurances, she could not believe a man like His Lordship would not be the first to want her returned to her husband. She wanted this coronation over so she could leave this place, leave before Robert discovered her. If what His Lordship said was true, he would be showing her portrait to everyone in the palace; it could not be long before someone revealed her presence here. The servants missed nothing and were easily bought.
She should have allowed them all to carry on believing the worst of him, but she just could not do it. She sat in the chair beside the window, watching people walking in the grounds below, and she remembered that day when he threatened her, how afraid she had been, how he had raised his hand to strike her then stopped, ashamed. He had been really hurt at the way the villagers and tenants had greeted him, how they feared him as they had feared the old Earl. It meant such a lot to him that he not be like his father; she could not let them all believe that is just what he was.
Her thoughts took her to an unknown future. She could no longer stay with the Durstons, not when she had to constantly avoid the Earl. Julia may well have kept him under control for now, but she doubted it would be permanent and she had no wish to learn first hand about his perversions. After this visit, Robert might easily learn her whereabouts. She began to plan, counting in her head the money she had not touched since Lady Julia had given her this position. She could get farther away from London, perhaps nearer the coast. She was not afraid of hard work; perhaps a farmer might want a serving girl or a nurse for his children. Farmers tended to have a lot of children and they and their wives were always too busy to care for them. All she would want in return would be her bed and board. She felt a little spark of anticipation at the idea, then a sudden thought deflated her again. Most farmers were tenants of their various Lords and they would need permission from him to employ someone like her. Then she would be faced with another lecherous proposition, or another threat to return her to her husband. It was all hopeless.
She did not realise she had been dozing until she awoke with a start, feeling the presence of someone leaning over her. It was Lord Durston.
&nb
sp; She sat up straight, looking rapidly about for Julia, but there was no sign of her. A glance through the window told her it was late and the quiet told her everyone was at supper, either in the servants' hall where she intended to be or in the banqueting rooms with all the nobility. She could have had her supper sent to her room, being neither nobility nor servant as far as anyone was concerned, but she did not want to be alone. Now she wished she had; she would have had something with which to defend herself.
"My Lord?" She muttered.
"I suppose you think running to my wife has put a stop to my admiration for you," he said.
His lecherous leer made her shiver and she pushed her hands onto the arms of the chair to get to her feet. He pushed her back down, and she kicked out with her foot. She had defended herself with her feet once before, and was thankful that this time she was still wearing her shoes. She managed to land a kick to his shin and he leapt back enough to allow her to jump to her feet and turn away from him, make a run for the door.
Then she felt his hand on her arm, stronger than she would have expected from such a frail looking man, and he pulled her back and flung her down, where her head banged on the wooden floor. He sat astride her, just as Robert had once done, and his hand went up to strike her, but he did not stop in shame. He slapped her face, hard, while she struggled and let out a scream.
He covered her mouth with his hand, which smelled of leather and strong wine, while she squirmed about, hoping that Julia might come looking for her husband.
She bit into his hand as hard as she could until he snatched it away, then she screamed, this time turning her head away to make it harder for him to silence her. The bite made him angrier and he struck her again, harder this time and with his fist, and she thought her jaw might be broken.
She saw the door opening, saw the man's boots which came through it, just as her attacker lifted his fist once more to strike her.
Robert waited until the palace had grown quieter. He heard people moving past his door on their way to the banqueting rooms and the servants' hall for their meals. Even the servants would be getting special meals tonight, with the coronation procession tomorrow. They would all be too busy to eat then. He was unsure where Antonia would be; if she were here as companion to Lady Durston she was unlikely to be in either place and hoped she had sent for her meal in her rooms, but knowing her as he did he thought she was just as likely to eat with the servants. She would feel no superiority which might stop another woman in her position.
He knew a moment of panic. Supposing he had missed her? He had been peering through a small gap in the doorway, hoping to see that she was not among the other guests and had indeed had her meal sent up. He had not seen her, so could only pray for fortune to smile on him.
He had still not decided the best way to approach her, the best way to try to make her understand the truth, that he loved her and would never have tried to hurt her.
Once the hallway was clear he opened his door and stepped outside, made his way along the gallery just in time to see Lord Durston entering his apartment at the other end of the wide corridor.
Damn! Now he would have to wait. Why was the man not at the banquet where he belonged? He walked swiftly along the gallery and stopped outside the door, putting his ear to solid oak for the second time that day. He would hear nothing more than he had then so he stepped away and looked about for a place to conceal himself until His Lordship came out.
That is when he heard the scream, just a very short scream, quickly muffled. Last time he had heard that scream it was his own hand that had muffled it. He strode back to the door in time to hear the second scream, much longer and louder than the first, and he opened the door to see the tiny figure of his beautiful wife being held beneath the body of a grotesque old man.
His rage took over; he reached the man in one stride and pulled him off her, his fist driving squarely into his jaw, knocking him into the wall. Durston let out a cry, but that did not stop Robert from gripping his doublet and hitting him again, this time hearing the crack from his breaking nose.
Durston was trying hard to melt into the corner away from his attacker, both hands holding his wounded nose in a feeble attempt to stop the blood that poured from it and soaked his hands. Robert grabbed him once more.
"Robert, enough!" Antonia's voice came from behind him, then he felt her hands on his arm, pulling him away. "Please, you will kill him!"
He looked down at her, saw the red mark on her cheek, the bruise blooming on her jaw and his fury rose once more. He turned back to see Durston disappear into the gallery outside, then he gathered his wife against himself and held her close, drinking in the familiar smell of her hair, the half forgotten softness of her figure and how good it felt to have his arms around her once more.
CHAPTER NINE
Antonia recognised the boots as they came through the door and she knew she was about to be saved, but for what and for how long? She felt the weight leaving her body and she breathed a sigh of relief. Her face hurt and she closed her eyes while she tentatively moved her mouth up and down to be sure she could. She opened her eyes once more to see just the feet and legs of her rescuer, see her employer's husband thrown against the wall. She sat up, saw Robert's face, livid with rage and knew she had to stop him before he killed the man. Then where would they be?
She got shakily to her feet and went to pull on his arm.
"Robert, enough!" She cried. "Please. You will kill him!"
He turned toward her and gathered her into his arms, just as Lord Durston escaped through the door.
"He attacked my wife," Robert said. "He deserves to be killed."
He pulled her against him, held her head onto his chest and hugged her.
"Are you hurt?" He asked. "If he hurt you I will kill him."
"Only my pride," she replied.
He held her at arm’s length to better inspect her bruise, and his anger flared again, evident in his expression.
“I will survive, Robert,” she said in an effort to calm him.
She thought it would be wise to pull away from him, but it felt so safe and warm to be in his arms again, even knowing that it was all a sham.
"We had best get away from here," Robert said.
"I assume you came in response to a summons from the Queen," she answered. "You must attend the coronation, or she will be suspicious. You were close to her brother; you must show your support for her."
He took a deep breath, but made no move to release her.
"You are right, of course," he said.
He held her away from him again and looked down into her face, her beautiful face that he had feared he would never see again.
"You will come with me?" He asked.
She shook her head.
"Antonia, I have searched for months for you."
"So I heard. Did you hope to finish me off, or do I have a little time before you find someone to replace Camilla? I heard she is married, so there is no longer a hurry, unless you already have someone in mind."
A frown of anger crossed his face, just briefly before he took a deep breath to calm himself. He had no idea where to begin, or how to begin, but she was here in his arms and he was not about to let her go.
He pulled her against him once more, kissed her gently, then held her hand and took a seat on the settle beside the fire, pulling her down to sit beside him. His arm went around her and he pulled her close.
"I have no idea where to begin," he said. "I did not try to poison you, nor did I employ someone else to poison you."
"Of course not," she said cynically.
"I was wrong to tell you I loved Camilla. I realised that when I found out what love really is and I learned that from you."
"So my being ill was just a coincidence? The rat that died when it ate my broth was just a coincidence? My recovery once Maisie had gone, that was a coincidence too?"
She pushed herself away from him and stood up, holding fast to the tears that threatened.
"It was Camilla," he told her.
"Camilla?" She replied. "You imagine she was so besotted with you she would kill for you?" She stared down at him, felt her mouth form a line of bitterness. "I always knew you were conceited, but I had no idea you thought quite so highly of yourself."
He stood up and took her shoulders in his strong hands. He held her still to look at him.
"This is all so hard to explain," he said. "I went to see her, after you left. I thought she had wed and moved to the north; that is what she told us, unless I misunderstood." Antonia nodded her agreement. "But I went to try and find the servant. Camilla was there. She confessed to me that she had put her maid with us to spy on us. She was hoping to learn that we were on bad terms."
"I see," Antonia answered sourly. "And her maid took it upon herself to poison me."
"No." He paused and sighed. "Camilla told her to give you something to make you ill. It was not poison, so she assured me. I am not sure I believe that, but it is what she said."
"Why? Because she couldn't live without you? Because she discovered she loved you as well as your title and wealth? I doubt that."
"She said she wanted to separate us. She wanted to put a halt to our bedchamber activities, was how she put it, just until she married herself. She was jealous."
Antonia only stared at him. It was a very unlikely tale, but she wished more than anything that it was true. Looking at him now, she realised how much she had missed that love she thought they had.
"Thank you, Robert, for saving me from Lord Durston," she said. "Will you go now, please, so I can pack up my things and move on?"
"No!" He cried.
He pulled her into his arms again, bent his head and kissed her with passion, that kiss that made her feel as though she were falling from a great height, that kiss that made her breasts tingle and her body throb.
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