By Arrangement

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By Arrangement Page 30

by Madeline Hunter


  “Did you go inside?”

  “Aye. The Comte was not there, and I entered as a traveling merchant with luxuries to sell. No one will remember. The vanities absorbed the women, not me.”

  “Do you want it? Senlis?”

  “Who would not?”

  She rose up and looked in his eyes. “Yo u might not.”

  All the same, a choice awaited. “It is your fate that I decide as well as my own. I would know your will in this.”

  “I would have you with me forever, alive and whole. That is all that really matters to me, but I know that you will not make your choice for your own safety, and I will not ask it of you. As to the rest, there is no clear right and wrong here, is there? Both hold some pain and betrayal. England and France both have a claim on you. Both men, Edward and Theobald, deserve your loyalty.” She paused, considering the dilemma. “I think that you should choose the life that you were born to live, whichever you think it was.”

  To the heart of things. Life with her would be fascinating.

  “And what about you, Christiana? What about the life that you were born to live?”

  She smiled and rested her face against his chest. “I was born to marry a nobleman, David. And you have always been one of the noblest men I have ever known.”

  CHAPTER 21

  CHRISTIANA AWOKE TO an empty bed and the early morning light streaming in the chamber's window. The mellow memories of the night vanished at once. She rose and quickly dressed.

  He was meeting with them now. It was being done. She could not pray for one outcome or another, even though she knew which she would prefer. He could give them the port, become the heir to Senlis, and live the life that few men had. Or he could refuse, be deprived of his old life but not given a new one, and maybe be killed. Not much of a choice to her mind, nor, she hoped, to his either. All the same, despite the status of Senlis and all that it entailed, she did not look forward with any enthusiasm to living in that strange place so far from home.

  She paced the room but the confined space only increased her worry. She left the chamber and sought the stairs that led to the flat roof of this tall building with its many chambers for sleeping and storage.

  Tubs of summer flowers and vines dotted the roof. As she stepped out onto it she heard the sounds of activity floating up from the city below. The usual drone of commerce and movement had been replaced by a din of wagons and horses and men shouting orders.

  David stood by the low wall surrounding the roof, looking down into the city streets to the west. Another man of middle years with a thick build and long brown hair watched beside him.

  David turned and noticed her. He held out his hand.

  “My lord, this is my wife, Christiana Fitzwaryn. This is the Constable d'Eu, darling.”

  Christiana met the inspecting gaze of the chief military leader of France.

  “I am Theobald's cousin, my lady, and so a kin of your husband's.” He glanced at David. “The daughter of Hugh Fitzwaryn, no less. You did well for Senlis. Theobald is pleased that your wife brings such blood to the family.”

  Christiana stepped to the wall beside David. In the streets beyond, she could see the feverish activities of an army preparing to move.

  It was done, then. She glanced at David's impassive face.

  “My lady, your husband will be staying here in Caen,” the constable said.

  She looked from one man to the other. Something was wrong. She could feel it.

  “Are you saying that I am still a prisoner?” she asked.

  “You are free to go. I will arrange an escort to take you to Senlis.”

  “Then my husband is now a prisoner?”

  “A guest. Until the English land. He can join you then. He is not trained in warfare, and this battle is not his.”

  “I would prefer to stay with my husband.”

  The constable looked at David. David didn't react at all. The older man smiled. “As you wish,” he said, and he turned away and walked across the roof to the stairs.

  She waited until he had gone.

  “Why must you stay here, David?”

  “He does not trust me. He fears that I have lied to them. But your choice to stay with me has reassured him a little.”

  “But why keep you here if the army moves?”

  “Theobald will take the army. He has already left the house. But the constable has decided to remain in Caen with a small force, to be available in case Edward comes a different way. The King's chamberlain is here, too. He agreed that this would be wise.”

  “And your uncle agreed to this?”

  “Even the Comte de Senlis does not stand against the constable and chamberlain of France. Theobald wanted me with him, so that I could see the glorious French victory that I have helped bring about. The constable insisted that I stay with him here, however, so that he would have me at his disposal if I betrayed them in some way. He thinks that I might steal away from the army during its march, or that, if it came to it, Theobald would not take vengeance on his heir.” He smiled. “The constable does not know his cousin very well.”

  He embraced her and placed his cheek against her hair. He still looked down into the city. She felt conflicting emotions in him and wished that she could say something to comfort him. This decision had not been an easy one, no matter what prize it brought.

  “Why doesn't the constable trust you? Surely the logic of your choice should be clear to him. It is the decision any man would have made, and there will even be English knights and lords who recognize the fairness of it.”

  “He explained it to me just now. Almost apologized. It seems that if I were a knight, he would have no doubts about me. It is the fact that I am a merchant, and a London merchant at that, which gives him pause.”

  “That is outrageous. Does he think merchants less honorable?”

  “Undoubtedly, as all do. Still, in a way, he credits me with more rather than less honor. He told me that he knows burghers, and has met many from London. He knows that we owe our first loyalty to the city itself. He does not claim to understand men who give their fealty to a place rather than a man, but he knows it is so with us and he has seen its power. He could accept that I would betray Edward, or even the realm, but not London. And so, while he and the chamberlain agreed with Theobald that the army should move with speed, the constable will stay here to organize a defense if I lied to them.”

  A steady stream of knights and mounted soldiers streamed across the gate bridge from the other side of the river. They moved through the city toward its southern edges. Foot soldiers, carts, and workers plodded with them. The streets looked like colorful, moving rivers.

  David's gaze followed the lines. “I should have insisted that you go to Senlis, but I feared never getting you out later. Theobald can be ruthless when angered, I suspect. Still, it would have been safer for you. The constable assured your safety, but there are limits to his protection.”

  “What are you saying, David? Do you think that Edward has indeed changed his plans and that the constable will blame you in some way?”

  He pushed away from the wall and walked across to the southern view with his arm around her shoulders. In the distance, past the lower rooftops, they could see the field on which the army gathered. At the front, with gold and blue banners, no more than dots to their eyes, sat three men on horseback.

  “Theobald?” she asked.

  He nodded. “There are five thousand here with him. Others will join the army as they pass south.”

  “They go to Bordeaux, then?” she asked, even though the answer was obvious. She needed to hear it said, however, so that she could begin reconciling herself to the future he had chosen for them.

  She wished that she felt some joy, but her stomach churned in an odd way. She thought about his question last night before they slept, and of her response.

  He had misunderstood. She had sought to assure him that she loved him no matter what his degree, and had found him noble even before she
learned about his father.

  He has done this in large part for me, she realized. To give me back the life which this marriage took from me.

  The Comte and Duke began to ride. The thick, undisciplined mass of the army oozed after them.

  “Aye, they go to Bordeaux,” he confirmed.

  He wore a peculiar expression on his face. His eyes narrowed on the disappearing blue banners. “Edward, however, does not.”

  She gaped at him. His gaze never left the southern field.

  “I went to Edward before Catherine did. I told him everything, and offered to finish the game as I had started it. I would give them one port, and our army would arrive at another one. I pressed for him to consider Normandy, since half the French army was already in the south and if I failed he would still only face an inferior host. His experience trying to sail to Bordeaux had already inclined him to change plans, and a Norman knight has been at court these last months, also telling him about Normandy's unwalled towns and clear roads.”

  She glanced in the direction of his gaze. She could still see reflections off the Comte's armor.

  “Edward will debark in Normandy? Here on the northern coast?” Tremendous relief swept her, but with it came a sickening fear for David and what he now faced.

  “Assuming that he doesn't get clever at the last moment, which is entirely possible. Or that he doesn't grow to doubt me. Catherine probably told lurid tales of my duplicity, but I am counting on Edward knowing what he has in her. Godefrey, the Norman knight, and I were able to give him three possible ports, small and out of the way. He will use the one which the winds favor.”

  “Does the King know about Senlis and what you were offered? If he does, he may well doubt you. He will not understand your choice.”

  “I told him everything. I could not be sure that Lady Catherine was involved in your disappearance, or that she planned to betray me, but I suspected it. I could not be sure that she remained ignorant of my relationship with the Comte. It was well that I spoke frankly with Edward. When I finally got a hold of Frans, I had my suspicions confirmed.”

  “So you were never in danger in England? And you can return?” Assuming that he could get out of Caen alive.

  “Aye.”

  “Still, having convinced Edward on Normandy, you might have betrayed him. When did you decide what to do?”

  He still looked to the flow of the army. “Early this morning. Knight or merchant, you said. I took you at your word.”

  “And if I had spoken differently? If I had said that I wanted to be the wife of a comte?”

  “I would have given it to you, and learned to live with my conscience.” He looked down and smiled. “I suspect that I could have rationalized it. The power and luxury of Senlis can probably obscure any guilt. Such a life has its appeal. I will not pretend that I was not tempted.”

  She embraced him tightly. “You have sacrificed much for your city and your King, David. Edward owes you much.”

  “He owes me nothing, Christiana. He gave you to me. The debt is all mine.”

  His gaze had returned to the distant field. The Comte was barely visible now. She saw that peculiar expression on his face again, and a flicker of yearning pass through those eyes.

  He had executed a brilliant victory, a daring strategy, a magnificent game, but no triumph showed in him. She doubted his subdued reaction had anything to do with the danger he now faced. She snuggled closer under his arm and tried to comfort him.

  “In time he will understand, David. He knows about honor and the hard choices it gives a man. He may not forgive you, but he will understand.”

  He tensed at this mention of the Comte and the blood ties which he had betrayed.

  She tried again. “David, I know there is pain here. He is your uncle …”

  His fingers came to rest on her lips, silencing her. “I should have told you last night,” he said. “I feared your reaction to the truth, and also did not know if he would try to learn what you knew. I have spent the last hour wondering if I would ever tell you.”

  She frowned in confusion. She searched his face for some explanation.

  “Theobald is not my uncle, Christiana.”

  His words stunned her. It took a few moments for the full implication to penetrate her dazed mind.

  “Are you that clever, David?” That audacious? You found a man whom you resembled in some way and plotted this elaborate scheme? You fed me this story so that I could convincingly support you if I was questioned?”

  That peculiar, yearning expression passed over him again.

  He shook his head. “It is much worse than that, my girl.” He glanced to the speck of a man being swallowed by sunlight and haze. “Theobald is not my uncle. He is my father.”

  Christiana did not know how long they stood there with his words hanging in the air, but when he spoke again the straggling ends of the army were passing out of the city.

  “He did not even remember her name.”

  They still stood near the roof wall. He rested his arms against it and he looked south, but at nothing in particular now.

  “He seduced her, took her love, left her with child, and destroyed her life. I use her name, but it meant nothing to him. Both he and Honoré had been to London several times as young men, and he assumed that I was the product of one of his brother's sins. It was the final mockery of Joanna's timeless trust.”

  She spoke to comfort him more than defend Theobald. “It was thirty years ago. When you are fiftyfive, do you think that you will remember the name of every woman you bedded?”

  “Aye. Every one.”

  “Perhaps only because he did not.”

  He appeared not to hear. “There had been two rings, one gray and one pink. He assumed that I had Honoré's, the gray one, and never asked to see it. At Hampstead, he looked at me and saw only his brother.”

  “He knew his brother's face better than his own. How often do we see clear reflections of ourselves in glass and metal?”

  “She meant nothing to him. She was merely a beautiful girl with whom he amused himself for a short while. A merchant's daughter who counted for nothing in the life of a son of Senlis.”

  She didn't know what else to say. He had watched Joanna's misery and patience. He had lived in the shadow of her disillusionment. He had watched the master whom he admired love her in vain. She doubted that his anger at Theobald could be assuaged by words.

  “Why didn't you tell him the truth? Why let him think you are his nephew?”

  “At Hampstead, when I realized his mistake, it stunned me. Otherwise, my plan had unfolded perfectly. I told myself at the time that correcting him might complicate things. For all I knew, he might resent the sudden appearance of a bastard son, or even suspect that I sought revenge against him. But in truth, it was my own resolve that I questioned. Meeting him was much harder than I thought it would be. I had fully intended to despise him. And then, there he was, and suddenly a hundred unspoken questions that I had carried in my soul all of my life were answered. The answers were mainly unpleasant, but at least I had them.” He smiled ruefully. “The connection, the familiarity, was immediate. Unexpected and astounding. If he had known me for his own, and appealed to me father to son, I do not know what I would have done. So, I let him think otherwise.”

  He did not have to tell her this. She would have never known or suspected.

  “So, Christiana. You are married to a man who lured his own father into disrepute and betrayed him. It is a serious crime in any family, especially noble ones.”

  He searched her eyes for disapproval or disappointment. She knew that he found only understanding and love.

  She thought about the yearning she had seen in him, and her heart swelled with sympathy. “Do you regret it? As you watch him ride off, would you change things?”

  “Only for you would I have done it differently and changed course. Never for him. I wish that I could say that I regret having started this, but I do not. I am what I am, my girl
, and a part of me, the Senlis part, is glad that I have revenged Joanna a little.”

  “Do you hate your father, David?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “It would be like hating myself. But I hold no love for him either. Theobald may have given me life, but the only father I ever knew and loved was David Constantyn.”

  He took her hand and eased away from the wall.

  “What now, David?”

  He glanced around the roof, as if inspecting it. “Now I see to your safety.” He grinned down at her. “The danger that I face from the Comte de Senlis and the Constable d'Eu is nothing compared to what Morvan Fitzwaryn will do if I let anything happen to you. I think that you should ask the lovely Heloise to show me her house. All of it. Tell her that I am curious to see how Caen's wealthiest burghers live.”

  David and Christiana had their tour. David peered around without subtlety and effused compliments, and Heloise beamed with pride at the appreciation of this handsome London merchant. Christiana thought that he overdid it somewhat, but his praise dragged the afternoon out and gave him the opportunity to examine every chamber and storage room, every window and stable. He seemed especially fascinated with an attic at the top of the main building. Loaded with cloth and mercery, it could only be reached by a narrow flight of steps angling along the inner wall.

  They finally left Heloise at the hall and strolled into the garden.

  “There does not appear to be any way out except the front gate, short of getting a ladder to the wall,” David said.

  “Is that what you looked for? I could have told you that. There is one way, but you will need rope.” She began angling him in the direction of the tree. She smiled at this simple solution. David would escape, she would join him, and then … what? A run to safety, to Edward and his army. How long was the Comte's reach if he sought revenge? Perhaps they would leave both England and France behind and go to Genoa.

  As they neared the garden's corner, her heart fell. Where the tall strong oak had stood, they found only its stump.

  “I went out this way a week before you came,” she explained. “Theobald caught me. He must have ordered it cut after that.”

 

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