“You did, my lord?” She truly needed to leave. She could not bear to have him explain that she was not worth his honor to save. Leaving without any word would have been better than this, she decided.
“Only a man who loves his wife above all, all titles, all land, all riches, even honor, would do what is necessary to keep her safe and with him.”
Her eyes burned with the tears she fought. She held the sobs within her. It was time to leave. She did not want to hear him deny her in this way. She pushed out of the chair and stumbled toward the door. He reached her just before she could pull it open.
“Emalie, please. You misunderstand my words,” he said as he pulled her into his embrace. “I am a man who loves his wife above all. I will do whatever I can to keep you with me.”
She stared at him, for she could not believe she had heard his words correctly. He had never spoken of love to her. She knew he did not have those tender feelings for her. But, now, in this holy convent, he declared it to be so.
Emalie began to argue, but he lifted her chin and took her mouth then. Kissing her over and over, he claimed her and pledged his love to her. Still shocked by his declaration, she stumbled and they landed against the door, their mouths still joined.
“My lord?” Luc’s voice came through the closed door. “I do not think that what you are attempting is appropriate in the house of God.”
“Shut up, Luc,” Christian growled back. He did stop kissing her and placed her back firmly on her feet. Then he led her to the chair and made her sit in it. He brought a small stool over and placed it next to her so they could talk. Once seated, he clasped his hands around hers and rested them on her lap. She did not want him to ever let go. Blinking through the tears, she tried to focus on his words.
“Although my intention is to fight this, I confess that I have not much to fight with, Emalie. Assumptions, guesses, some bits of information and much uncertainty. At first, I thought to fight his claim that he fathered the babe. Alyce and Walter have sworn you came to me a virgin, but I fear endangering their souls if they swear this under the oath in the bishop’s court.”
“They would truly do that for me?” She had never wanted to test their loyalty at the cost of their souls and had prayed that it would never come to a public vow.
“They would. They have already privately. But Father Ignatius said that if we disprove the betrothal document, it matters not who fathered the babe.”
“How can that be?” If they all knew she was pregnant at the time of her marriage, it could not be Christian’s child.
“He said that the only issue is the invalidity of our marriage due to that agreement. That any child born within a valid marriage is considered to be of the husband. The ecclesiastical and secular courts have upheld this time and time again.”
Puzzled, she considered his words.
Then the truth hit her. “’Twould not do to look too closely at the chicks in the nest?” she asked. Many children and heirs from noble marriages probably had little to do with the men whose names they bore or whose titles and lands they inherited. ’Twas a sad state of affairs in the land.
“Just so.”
Their gazes met and then his moved over her. “You look tired, my lady. I will not trouble you more over this, Emalie. ’Tis clear to me that you need to rest now.” He stood and tugged her to her feet. “If you think of any way to attack the document itself, send Alyce with word and I will act on it.”
Christian wrapped his arms around her again. This time, they just stayed in that embrace for several moments as the magic of being surrounded by his love pulsed through her. Grasping his cloak, she felt the mail he wore below his tunic. Danger was all around them in this endeavor. She did not want to let him go now that he had come to her and professed his love.
But the sounds outside in the hall meant their time together was over. After the obvious warning sound of scuffling feet, the door opened and the reverend mother entered with Alyce, Luc and Sister Marguerite. Emalie noticed that Luc’s expression was one of smug, manly pride, as though he had been proved right. She could only imagine what battles raged between Christian and his friend.
“Come, my lady. The night is already chill and you must reserve your strength for the days ahead. Marguerite, assist the lady back to her chambers.”
Before Christian released her, he leaned down close to her ear and whispered words of encouragement.
“I will not surrender you to the darkness, Emalie. Fear not.”
She stepped away from him, her heart filled with hope for the first time in a long while. Turning, she smiled at the nun. “My thanks, Reverend Mother, for allowing this visit.”
“Your spirit is raised now, your heart is lighter?” the short woman asked in hushed tones.
“Aye,” she answered, glancing at her husband.
“Then God’s work has been done this night.” The nun nodded at both of them.
Christian kissed Emalie’s forehead as she passed him and then she allowed Alyce and the sister to guide her back to her room.
“You, too, must do God’s work, my lord.”
The earl turned to face her after watching the countess leave. “I, Reverend Mother? How can I do that?” She caught a glance of his companion’s irreverent expression but knew he asked in earnest.
“Oppose evil in any of its forms. Use all of your gifts, all of your strengths, to fight its control.”
He nodded to her, but she knew he was not thinking of her words. He was thinking of the woman he loved and the dangers she faced.
“There is a warrior’s prayer that you should remember, my lord. ‘O God, you favor the righteous’ it begins.”
He nodded, acknowledging the prayer that she quoted.
“Pray and remember it during the battle that faces you.”
“I will, Reverend Mother.”
“Now I must go to pray and you must leave.”
The two men bowed to her and left with the gatekeeper as their guide. She made her way to the chapel and walked to the altar, where she knelt on the cold stone steps. Making the sign of the cross, she began to pray.
She knew more about his case before the bishop than she had let him know. She was well aware of the corruption that controlled the man who should be shepherd to his flock. And she knew the identity of the one who corrupted.
Praying to the only one who could save this young couple, she used the prayer she seemed to favor the most lately.
“O God, you favor the righteous man with your grace…”
The reverend mother remained on her knees for several more hours of prayer, for when the devil walked the earth, it was all that God-fearing people could do.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The first day did not go well.
Christian gazed around the large room that was being used for the proceedings. A large number of clergymen observed the hearings, as well as commonfolk who were entertained by the goings-on of the nobility. The only one who should have been there and was not was the lady in question. Her request to be present was refused.
After witnessing a long and private discussion between Prince John and the Bishop of Lincoln, Christian knew that the outcome was already determined. John’s departure confirmed it, for if the prince did not feel the need to stay and watch the case, then he knew the result was in hand.
He sat with Father Ignatius and listened as witness after witness proclaimed knowledge of the plan to betroth Emalie to DeSeverin. They spoke of the high regard the late earl had for DeSeverin. Although none of those called were of Greystone, they played their parts good and well and, if he had not known the truth, they would have convinced him.
The bishop and his two highest-ranking clerics heard the case and nodded as DeSeverin’s representative presented their evidence. Examining samples of Gaspar’s handwriting, they exclaimed over the exactness of the one on the betrothal agreement and looked upon him with disdain. DeSeverin’s copy of the will was greeted with the same acceptance.
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Christian’s head pounded in helplessness. He had witnesses and documents to testify that no one within the Montgomerie circle of family or friends knew of Gaspar’s intention to betroth his daughter to DeSeverin and that no one knew of changes to Gaspar’s will. That did not disprove the documents, it simply showed that before they were signed, Gaspar had had no intention to designate DeSeverin as Emalie’s guardian and betrothed husband.
Finally the disastrous day was done and he made arrangements to meet with Father Ignatius for further discussions of the plans for presenting their case on the morrow. Luc joined them and they argued for many hours before the parcel arrived.
A package of letters, ones from Gaspar to Longchamp, the Bishop of Ely, concerning a new betrothal arrangement for his daughter. One letter, dated months prior to Gaspar’s death, requested such a betrothal. Another letter, signed and dated but a few weeks later, granted permission for a betrothal between the Countess of Harbridge and one Comte de Langier. Another sheet outlined the agreement between Gaspar and his own father, Guillaume Dumont, and was sealed with the king’s emblem and signature of his chancellor.
Christian smiled grimly as he beheld the documents. Dead men were now signing as freely as the living. Obviously, Richard, or Longchamp, believed that Greystone should not go to John and his cronies and had produced these proofs to combat his claim. Could he use them knowing they were false? Did it matter that they were as false as the others being used to wrongly claim Emalie?
He turned to the priest with his moral dilemma and asked him, without showing him the content of the papers.
“Father, if something is evil or false, can it be used to accomplish good?”
The young priest considered his question before answering. He pulled out some scrolls and examined passages within them and frowned as he seemed to argue the question silently in his thoughts. Ignatius scratched his face and beard and then looked at him and Luc.
“Canon law is quite clear on this, my lord. Evil can not be used even to accomplish good, for its very nature will corrupt all endeavors and all results will be tainted by its connection.”
“The ends do not justify the means?” Luc offered.
“Correct, sir. In simpler terms, that is the meaning.”
“What is in there, Chris? What is this about?”
Christian handed the papers to the priest and his friend and waited for their reaction. Luc smiled broadly as he peered over Ignatius’s shoulder and read the pertinent phrases within the documents. Nodding his head, he cheered.
“Finally! This is exactly what we need. ’Twould have been better if Ely had sent these sooner, but they are welcome at any time, I swear.”
“I would like to examine these more closely, my lord, before we present them to the court tomorrow, if you would excuse me.”
At his nod, the priest gathered all the documents and took them into the next room with him. When Luc would have spoken, Christian waved him to silence. Once the door between the chambers had shut, he told Luc to keep his voice down.
“What is your problem, Christian? The king’s man has given you the proof you need to win this matter. Pray, tell me you do not hesitate to use it?”
“You heard my question of Ignatius. Does the end justify the means?”
“You are saying that those documents are forgeries?”
“As much as the one DeSeverin uses. My father knew nothing of the Montgomeries before his death. Ely never answered Emalie’s father in a timely manner with my name. They are all false,” he replied.
“Are you saying you will not use them on the morrow?” Luc laughed harshly. “With Emalie’s life in danger, you stop to think whether it is right or wrong to use all weapons within your grasp?” Luc glared at him. “Next you will tell me you believe in fighting fair during battle.”
He started to say something, but now Luc waved him off. “In a battle to the death, when infidels are crowding in for the kill, you use anything, anything, that you can to survive. You trip them, you throw sand in their eyes or the wine you carry with you, or you cut their hamstrings so they can not stand and fight. The only important thing is to live.”
“I am not on Crusade, Luc.”
“You may think not, but the infidels here, your enemies, will not stop to measure their means against the Lord’s commandments. They will do what must be done to win.” Luc walked to the door and faced him before leaving. “I fear that you and your lady will not survive this unless you begin to fight as they do—with every weapon in your reach.”
“Luc,” he called out.
“Until the morning, my lord.” He heard the words just before the door slammed.
Finally she was given permission to observe the court proceedings. Even though her life hung in the balance, she was not deemed important enough to be present and it took many hours of begging and pleading to accomplish it. With no word from Christian since two nights ago, she had no idea what had occurred the day before or what was to come this day.
She was directed to sit on a chair near the front of the room, away from both of the men who argued over her but near enough to hear and see everything that transpired. Alyce was permitted to stay with her, for the priest who guided her there feared that she would swoon and interrupt the business before the bishop. As soon as she could, she sent Alyce for word about progress so far.
Christian entered with Luc and a priest and walked to the table assigned to him. As he looked around the room, she caught his gaze and smiled. The smile that he answered her with warmed her heart. He headed in her direction, but the stern voice of the bishop rang out.
“My lord, take your place and do not seek to delay these most serious proceedings.”
Christian appeared torn for a moment, but the priest’s hand on his arm gave him some message. He stopped and nodded to the bishop. “My apologies, my lord bishop. I meant no disrespect to you or the proceedings.”
The bishop called out to her. “Heed me well, my lady. Women have no place here. You are here only due to my mercy and kindness. If you choose to disrupt these hearings, I will have you removed.”
Emalie nodded in reply, afraid to say even a word.
“Brother Amadeus, please read the record of the proceedings so far.”
The cleric stood and unrolled a scroll and began reading the account as recorded by him of all of the witnesses and their testimony. The monotone Latin went on and on and, despite her best efforts, she could not follow it all. She did gain a sense of how badly the day had gone for their case yesterday. When he finished, the bishop whispered to the other two priests with him. At their nods, he spoke.
“That is a true and accurate record of the witnesses and their testimony so far. It shall be marked with my ring and sealed and kept for our deliberations.”
The brother did as directed. In a few minutes, he placed the scroll in a basket made for just this and gave it to the bishop. “Now, let us begin. Sir William, did you have anything further to add to your evidence?”
The priest at William’s side rose and addressed the bishop. William stared at her. Why had he tried to see her at the convent? What could he have wanted? Emalie broke from his gaze and listened to the priest. From the way he outlined their case so far, she doubted he would have anything else to say. Their evidence was clear and overwhelming with the documents they had presented.
No wonder Christian had not visited her the night before. He could probably not face her with everything going so badly. He was always trying to keep her from upset. From the grim look on his face now, he was deeply and truly worried.
Then, in a matter of moments, the room was in an uproar. Christian began to argue with William.
“You could not get Gaspar’s blessing, could you, DeSeverin? So you had him killed,” Christian yelled at him.
“You lie. He gave his permission. There is the paper to prove it.” William stood to answer Christian’s assertion.
“He knew you for the pawn you are and so he was killed a
nd this, this forgery, was produced to back your claim.”
“He signed this, my lords. Gaspar Montgomerie—”
“Never signed that while he lived and breathed,” Christian answered. “And unless you can explain how a dead man can sign contracts, this is not worth the vellum it is written on.”
She smiled even though it was completely inappropriate, for he used her very words to describe the same document. Christian’s allegation that William was involved in her father’s death shocked her. He might be weak enough to be John’s pawn, but she could not see him as a murderer. Her father’s death as premeditated did make sense. But it could not have been William.
Christian took some parchments and approached William. Thrusting them in front of him, Christian waited for some reaction. She watched as William’s face reddened and flushed. Finally he began accusing Christian of lying and slander and forgery, so many charges that she lost count of them. And with a certain coldly calculated expression, Christian stepped closer to the bishop and called out to him.
“My lord bishop? Although my honor has been insulted by simply conducting these proceedings, I find that I have no avenue of recourse, no method of proving my denial of Sir William’s claims, other than by my right to combat.”
She began to shake her head. No, he could not do this. He could not. But he did. She tried to stand and go to him, but Alyce grabbed her and held her in the seat.
“I place the decision in God’s hands for He favors the righteous with His Grace to defeat their enemies and smite the sinners.” Christian called out the opening line of a long-used prayer.
“Do you accept this challenge, Sir William?” the bishop asked solemnly. She prayed that he would refuse, but William nodded his acceptance.
The bishop conferred with the others and confirmed the challenge made. “We do hold as a tenet of our faith that, in a challenge made and accepted to answer a question of faith or honor, God will indeed favor the righteous man and reward him with victory over his enemies. This court declares that all claims made will be proved on the field of battle, at noon, two days hence, in a place to be designated.” He looked from one man to the other. “And may God have mercy on your souls.”
The Dumont Bride Page 22