by The Leopard
“One can hardly pretend to dance,” Will noted wryly as they joined the other couples on the hall’s dark red tiled floor. “What would you speak to me of?” he asked as he took her hands to begin the carol.
“Marguerite.”
Will sighed, the jovial look disappearing from his face. “I tried, Astra, truly I did. I told her exactly what sort of man she is contracted to wed. I don’t think she will heed my warning.”
Astra and Will backed away from each other and bowed, then met again in the center. “She dreads telling her father the predicament she is in,” Will said. “Without his help she feels she chooses between Faucomberg and disgrace.”
Astra nodded and moved on to her next partner. It took some time before she again found herself facing Will. “There is another way, Will,” Astra whispered. “If you would marry her, no one would be the wiser.”
Will looked distraught. “Surely you understand why that is not possible.” He backed away.
Astra gave him a stubborn look and bowed. “Nay, I do not understand. Why could you not wed her for the sake of the child, then both continue living as you have been?”
Will gave her a startled look and moved on to his next partner.
Astra nearly held her breath as she progressed down the line, bowing and turning gracefully. The dance would soon be over. Then what excuse would she have to speak to Will?
Her body tensed as she neared him. “What think you?” she whispered.
“You would advise us to make this mockery of a marriage—knowing that we would both seek other lovers?”
Astra nodded as they drew apart. “Most marriages are contracted for other reasons than love,” she pointed out as she neared him. “If you both agreed to the arrangement, I do not see that it would be more difficult than the life you already lead. Indeed, it might be easier. You would legitimize Marguerite’s child, even as she quelled the rumors about your peculiarity.”
The carol ended. Will and Astra bowed to each other a final time. Then he took her arm to escort her from the dance floor. “Can you really mean this, Astra? Does it not shock you that we would be breaking our sacred marital vows?”
“Oh, surely God would understand. Will, I think of the child. He or she needs a father, a family name. As for you and Marguerite, I cannot believe you were not meant to have any happiness at all.”
“I can scarce imagine you would countenance this, Astra.”
“Everyone deserves to know love, Will. Without love we are no better than the beasts.”
* * *
Will nodded, a strange lightness floating in his chest. There was something about Lady Astra. Her warmth and goodness seemed to lift the pall of loneliness and despair that always hung over him. In matters of the heart, she was very wise. Perhaps her plan, outrageous as it was, had merit.
Abruptly, he released Astra’s hand. She gave him a warm encouraging look and then nodded. He nodded back and hurried toward Lord Fitz Hugh.
Will bowed to the Queen, then to Fitz Hugh.
“My Lord, if I might have a word with you?”
Fitz Hugh joined him quickly. His broad face was flushed with wine, a ready smile on his lips. “De Lacy.”
“I have decided on what I wish for a reward, sir.”
“A reward? Oh, aye, the reward I had promised you. What is it, Will?”
“I wish to wed your daughter.”
Fitz Hugh’s dark eyes bulged in amazement. “Marguerite? You wish to wed Marguerite? Even knowing what a defiant, troublesome little vixen she is?”
Will nodded.
“Well. This is a surprise. As I told you before, I have already arranged marriage plans for my daughter. Indeed, many of the negotiations have already been completed. I was on the verge of telling His Majesty this evening.”
“But you have not made the announcement yet,” Will said anxiously. “The betrothal is not public knowledge, is it?”
Fitz Hugh shook his head, frowning. “Tell me, de Lacy, have you spoken to Marguerite? Does she know of your suit?”
“No, my lord, she does not.”
The older man frowned. “I’ll have you know I won’t wed Marguerite where she does not wish it. If she does not agree to take you, I won’t force her.”
“I will speak to her,” Will answered, wondering when he would get a chance and worrying even more what the unpredictable Marguerite would say.
“But if she has no objections...” Fitz Hugh’s ruddy face brightened. “Your wish is granted, de Lacy. Now that I think on it, I am amazed I did not come upon the plan myself. What better husband could there be for my daughter than one who is both protective and indulgent? It will be a challenge, Will, but I can see you are man enough for the task. My Marguerite needs a bit of taming. Still, I imagine the pleasures will be great for the man who can bring her to heel.” Fitz Hugh gave his prospective son-in-law a suggestive wink.
Will could only smile numbly in response.
* * *
“You’ve asked my father for my hand?”
Marguerite looked so aghast, Will felt his confidence ebbing as rapidly as the tidewaters of the Thames.
“Astra suggested it. She convinced me it was worth doing anything to save you from Faucomberg.”
“I’m afraid you are mistaken, Will,” Marguerite responded with narrowed eyes. “I am content with the match, and I have every confidence I can manage my prospective husband.”
“You don’t know the man as I do. He is a beast, a craven, evil brute!”
Marguerite tossed her black curls with studied nonchalance. “I like a man with a little spirit, the lusty, restless sort. I am sure we will get along well.”
“Nay, you will not,” Will protested, feeling utterly frustrated. “He will beat and abuse you until he crushes you. You were blessed to have been raised in a warm and loving home, Marguerite, which is why you cannot imagine what such a man is capable of. He will have no concern for your wishes. He will go off hunting and whoring and living his life as he pleases, and if you dare protest, he will make you sorry.”
“Then he will go his way, and I will go mine. Such an arrangement suits me well.”
“You still do not understand. It will not be like that. Adultery is no crime for a man, but for a woman it is considered a grave sin. If Faucomberg discovers you have cuckolded him, you will be lucky if he does not kill you.”
“You forget, Will,” Marguerite responded, favoring him with a seductive smile. “I have not yet found a man I cannot bend to my will. Except you, of course, and that is because you are proof against all women’s charms,” she added archly.
“That is it, isn’t it?” Will muttered through clenched teeth. “You will not wed me because you cannot manipulate me. You do not accept your husband as your equal, you must have a man you have power over!”
“You have always been clever, Will. I am delighted you finally see the matter as I do.” Marguerite all but purred.
Will sighed. He had known Marguerite was stubborn, but he had not guessed what an obstinate wench she really was. She was as arrogant as a man. She insisted on controlling everything. What could he do, except tell Astra he had tried, and failed?
Thirty-seven
As soon as she woke, Astra knew she was alone. It was the first time she had slept later than Richard, but she had not thought he would leave her without wishing her good morning, not after the extraordinary intimacy they had shared the night before.
She sat up stiffly and felt the aching wonder of completion fill her limbs. Her skin still tingled from the rapture of Richard’s touch. Her womb still throbbed with the rhythms of their lovemaking. It had been a night of magic. Richard had loved her in every manner that a man could love a woman. Fast, slow, violent, tender—he had pleasured her a thousand ways, and left not an inch of her skin unexplored or unsatisfied. Astra could not imagine that any woman had ever been more thoroughly, exuberantly pleasured.
Still, she had not had her fill of him. For all his passion, his bur
ning energy, Richard had not allowed her to caress him, to explore his body. She longed for the chance to hold her husband in quiet tenderness, to stroke him with not lust, but maternal sweetness. To soothe the tension from his thick muscles and love away the turmoil in his haunted eyes. But each time she had sought to succor him, he had turned her affection to arousal. Each time she thought to lull him to sleep, his shaft had risen, thick and rigid, pulsing with sexual need. It was almost as if he feared her tenderness and thought to thrust it away with his insatiable lust.
A vague unease filled her. For all that Richard seemed to care for her, she wondered if he trusted her. Or if he ever would. She had broken through the barrier of his ironic, charming mask, but she could not penetrate the troubled tumult she found beneath. She was uncomfortably aware that Richard did not want her to understand him. He seemed to love her at last, but he had not accepted her love yet, not in the way she wished to give it.
For not the first time, she thought about Richard’s past, about what had made him the man he was. Since Will had told her about Richard’s mother, her love for him had grown even deeper and more poignant. Now that she could see the tormented, struggling boy he had been, her husband was much more comprehensible. She knew that despite his cocksure manner, his easy arrogance, Richard was afraid to love, afraid to trust. It might take her years to break through the wall of bitterness and mistrust he had built around his heart, but break through she would. She had only to love him enough, and someday those ancient wounds would heal.
She rose slowly. This morning the bawdy jokes of her wedding night had new meaning, for verily she was so sore from lovemaking she scarce could walk straight. She washed, dressed and arranged her hair, then left the bedchamber to hunt for Marguerite. Her friend’s dilemma was never far from her mind. She was determined to try one last time to convince Marguerite to refuse the marriage with Guy Faucomberg.
When she reached the corridor leading to the Queen’s chambers, Astra was surprised to find Will de Lacy waiting for her. His face was grim, his elegant mouth set in a stubborn line.
“Marguerite won’t listen to a thing I say, but I’ve come upon a plan to make her wed me anyway. What say you, Astra? Will you aid me?”
“She won’t listen to you?”
Will shook his head. “Marguerite is wretchedly stubborn. The woman is near as bad as Richard. She’s convinced she can handle any man, even a devil like Faucomberg.”
“What do you mean to do?”
Will smiled grimly. “I intend to go to Fitz Hugh and tell him Marguerite is carrying my child.”
“Your child? But why?”
“It’s the only remedy for the mess Marguerite is in. If Fitz Hugh thinks the child is mine, he’ll insist Marguerite wed me even if she doesn’t want to.”
Astra’s eyes widened. “What if she denies it? What if she tells her father that you... that you can’t father children because of your... your affliction?”
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Marguerite promised me she would keep my secret, and I believe she will, no matter how angry she is.”
“She will be hopping mad, you can be sure of that.” Astra chewed her lips nervously. “Marguerite hates to be forced into anything. If you coax or wheedle her to do something, she goes along good-naturedly, but if you try to force her...” Astra winced. “She can be nasty and vindictive when she’s crossed.”
“Aye, I know that. But that is part of the reason I must do this. Although I don’t approve of the way you tricked Richard into wedding you, Astra, I do not doubt now that things have turned out for the best. You belong with Richard.”
“As you belong with Marguerite?”
Will shrugged. “It’s not the same, although I do think we are well-matched as companions, if not lovers. I am prepared to indulge Marguerite’s whims as few men would. As long as she is discreet, I don’t care if she has a dozen lovers.”
“And you, Will, what will you gain from this marriage?”
“My family will be pleased, and it will help quiet the rumors about my unnatural inclinations.”
“It seems there are advantages for everyone. What do you wish me to do?”
“You must confirm my story with Lord Fitz Hugh. I have every reason to think Marguerite will deny I am the father of the child she carries. If she does, you are the only person who can convince Fitz Hugh that his daughter lies.”
A chill of foreboding chased down Astra’s spine. She was being drawn into a deception, perpetuating a blatant mistruth. She would be manipulating her closest friend, much as she had thought of manipulating Richard. Richard appeared to have at last forgiven her, but that did not mean Marguerite would.
“I’m not certain of this plan, Will. I have always believed lying inevitably leads to greater evil. Who are we to make these decisions for Marguerite, to trap her into marrying you?”
“It is for the best, Astra. It is!”
“Perhaps. Still, I cannot promise you I will baldly lie to Lord Fitz Hugh if he asks for the truth.”
Will’s jaw tightened in anger. “I will do it anyway. If Fitz Hugh refuses to take my word over Marguerite’s, I will think up some other ruse.”
“I wish you well.” Astra grasped his hands in hers. “I will pray that things turn out for the best.”
Will strode off purposefully to find Lord Fitz Hugh. Astra remained in the hallway, filled with lingering uneasiness. It wasn’t only Will’s plan that troubled her, but something else, some nameless anxiety that haunted her. She had an urge to see Richard, to reassure herself that things were well with him. She turned abruptly from the door to the Queen’s solar and hurried down the hallway.
She approached the knights’ barracks gingerly. She had never gone looking for Richard there before, and she felt uncomfortable entering the male world in which he spent much of his time. She told herself she had a perfect right to look for her husband and walked determinedly into the low wooden building. Crude odors immediately assailed her nose—sweat, leather, horses. Their smell on one man was not displeasing, but multiplied by the several dozen soldiers who slept here, the reek was enough to make Astra’s nose wrinkle in disgust.
The place was dimly lit by smoky rushlights, the floor filthy. From the darkened corners she could hear the sound of snoring. Despite the fact that it was near midday, some men appeared to be sleeping off the ale and wine they had imbibed too freely the night before. She waited uncertainly, beginning to doubt Richard would be found here. Certainly if she were him, she would spend no more time in this rank place than absolutely necessary. She was about to turn away when a grubby soldier who had been polishing armor in the corner rose and approached her.
“Lady, what can I do for you?”
Astra’s heart sank as the man neared. She recognized him from the night Richard had surrounded her with crude soldiers and taunted her before them. She could only hope he did not remember her.
“Ah, Lady Astra.” Something glinted in the man’s bloodshot eyes. They moved over her body appraisingly. Astra flushed and looked away. He obviously recalled the incident. Even now he was probably wondering what she looked like beneath her gown.
Forcing herself to ignore the wave of humiliation that washed over her, she looked up and steeled her features into what she hoped was a mask of calm. “I’m looking for my husband. Do you know where he is?”
The glitter in the man’s eyes faded, and his response was soft, almost kindly given. “No, my lady. I saw him leave earlier this morn with his squire. He wore armor and carried his weapons, so I might surmise he went to the practice field.” He gestured. “The Leopard spends hours in practice. It’s how he keeps from growing soft between campaigns.”
Astra nodded, intrigued by this information about her husband. She had always wondered what he did during his days at court. It did not reassure her to think that he spent his time training for war.
Astra turned to go, but the man stopped her with a dirty hand on her arm. She froze, dreading what he
might say to her.
“My lady, if you’d permit me, I would escort you there. It rained last night, and there’s mud and muck everywhere. I can show you the way, so you won’t get your gown dirty.”
Astra examined the knight warily. She expected to find the crude glow of lust on his features, and she was surprised by his respectful, almost awed expression. She nodded. It would help to have some kind of escort. She allowed the man to lead her through the courtyard and past storerooms and other outbuildings of the palace complex.
“Is your business with Sir Richard urgent?” the man asked.
“Nay, it’s nothing really,” Astra admitted sheepishly. “Perhaps I should not disturb him.” She hesitated. The man took her arm again to urge her on.
“He’s been at it since early this morn, so he’ll likely welcome a break. Anyway, he’s a fool if he’s not glad to see you.” The man grinned. “It’s a wonder you still seek him out after that nasty business he put you through when you were first wed. It was not fitting for him to treat you so.”
Astra stiffened, but said nothing. She did not like to think of the things Richard had said in front of the other knights. It had been his terrible anger that had made him behave that way.
“If you were my lady, I’d keep you away from other men altogether,” the man continued. “Guess the Leopard is very sure of you. He must believe that if you put up with his meanness, you truly must love him.”
They were almost to the practice field. Astra could see the rows of quintains along one end, but there was no sign of Richard or his squire.
“Huh! They’re not here,” the soldier mused, coming to a halt. “I could have sworn they would be. Where else would they go carrying all of their gear?”
Astra shook her head. The vague uneasy feeling was worsening, but she refused to give in to it. “Mayhaps we missed them. They might have gone to the kitchen for some food or the armory for weapons or... something.”
The soldier shrugged and led her back down the dung-strewn pathway. “I hope you find him, lady. It seems a shame for you to ruin your slippers for nothing.”