Oda knelt behind her lady on the bed and kneaded her back. “But a pawn can be a powerful piece, milady, if well played.”
Sybilla groaned as Oda’s fingers worked their magic on her aching muscles. She opened her knees and let her head fall forward as far as she could. “I begged my father not to sell me to Denis de Sancerre, but he insisted no one else would take me as a bride with my mismatched eyes.”
Oda made a disparaging noise. “Your father is a greedy fool. I think Antoine de Montbryce is taken with your eyes.”
Sybilla’s heart raced. Every time she looked at Antoine she experienced strange feelings. Something about him drew her. He was a Norman who had killed her husband. She should hate him, but discovered she could not. In the Norman tradition, he had shaved his head for war. What would his hair be like once it grew back? He had the most unusual green eyes, and his broad shoulders—
She shook herself out of her reverie. “Montbryce is our enemy.” She let out a long sigh. “Do my feet now.”
The maid hesitated. “Sometimes, we have to make new alliances, if we want to survive. Your father and your husband didn’t have your best interests at heart. They thought only of themselves. The Norman is thinking of your welfare.”
With a sigh of exasperation, Sybilla removed her wimple and collapsed back onto the bolster, running her hands through her loosened hair. It was true Sancerre had not loved her. She had been his chattel, a means to an end. He had not allowed her to call him by his given name.
As a girl, she had dreamed of the handsome knight she would one day fall in love with and marry. The reality of her loveless marriage had been a bitter gall to swallow. Her husband’s clumsy invasions of her body had left her feeling defiled.
But Antoine was a noble knight. Sending her to his castle would indeed improve her chances of staying alive. But why would he care? She was his enemy, pregnant with another man’s child.
Pawns were not allowed to move backwards. Dwelling on the past was futile. She hoped the right moves would bring a brighter future for her child. She would play Antoine’s game, whatever it was.
Family Above All
The Montbryce and Domfort knights distinguished themselves under Hugh’s command, though he did his best to stay out of William’s way during the taking of Le Mans. He prayed that when the Conqueror left to return to Normandie with the main force, he wouldn’t be among the barons ordered to remain behind to secure the city.
It was a forlorn hope. He was commanded to garrison his troops there for a month. He dared not anger the king by protesting too loudly that Domfort had been left poorly protected. He sent a message to Devona, explaining his delay in returning.
He worried about her constantly and was preoccupied with devising ways to solve their dilemma. He seemed to be in a state of persistent arousal, but now he knew the reason. He burned for Devona because he had discovered with her a world he had thought denied to him, a world of sensual pleasure and fulfillment in a woman’s arms. With her he felt whole.
Word had come from Antoine that he was mired in securing the ruined fortification at Grandeguay, leaving Belisle vulnerable as well. Part of the message detailed curious news concerning Renouf de Maubadon.
After trying to gain access to Alensonne, Renouf had disappeared. Jubert was certain the brute was heading in the direction of Grandeguay when he lost track of him. A fire set by the enemy had dislodged many rats and Antoine was relieved Jubert had arrived at the fortress. He jested about seemingly always being in need of a rat catcher.
Jubert’s presence, however, had turned out to be fortuitous. Able to mingle and fraternize with serfs and servants, he had learned that Renouf was known at Grandeguay, where he had apparently been a frequent visitor.
Antoine added a brief note about a pregnant woman who had been sent to Belisle Castle, for safety’s sake. He mentioned he would be riding home for a quick visit, ostensibly to check on the defenses there, but in fact to ask Lady Sybilla Sancerre what she knew of Renouf de Maubadon.
What was Renouf doing in enemy territory? The man was not a warrior, so it was doubtful he was planning to fight for the duke’s cause. Why had Antoine sent the Angevin woman to Belisle? By rights she should be surrendered to the duke, tried and executed.
Riding for Belisle, Antoine pondered his perplexing predicament until he was dizzy. He had told Hugh the reason for his journey was to question Sybilla de Sancerre about Renouf. Though this mission was important to him, it was his heart pushing him to see her again—to be near her.
He was a lover of women. They liked him and he liked them, but he had never been as obsessed with a woman as he was with Sybilla. It worried him.
He sensed tension in the air when he strode into the hall at Belisle. As he was removing his gauntlets, his steward arrived.
“Bretel, what’s happening?”
The steward hesitated a moment. “It’s the Angevin woman.”
A knot tightened in Antoine’s gut. “What about her?”
Again the steward seemed uncomfortable. “She’s laboring to bring forth the child. There are—difficulties.”
Antoine slapped his gloves against his thigh. Bretel was a forthright, trustworthy man and he wondered about his reticence. “What kind of difficulties?”
Bretel cleared his throat, his face reddening. “This is women’s business, and I only report what I’m told. The two midwives from the village are attending her, as well as her maid, but—”
“But what?”
“The women are not happy about the fact she’s an Angevin. And she’s having trouble birthing the babe.”
A snake uncoiled in his belly. “Surely, they are women who will strive to do their best to help her, notwithstanding her allegiance?”
Bretel shifted his feet uneasily. “Again, I report only what I’m told, milord. She has labored for many hours.”
“Where is—”
There was a sudden commotion as two frantic women burst into the hall, one of them clutching a bundle.
“Murderers, Norman murderers! You cannot kill the child,” Oda screeched as she too rushed into the hall.
One of the women shoved her. “He’s a monster.”
Antoine held up his hand. “What is going on here?”
The woman clutched the bundle more tightly as she bowed. “The Angevin has birthed a monster, milord, an abomination. It’s an omen.”
Oda fell to her knees at Antoine’s feet. “No, milord, I beg of you. Spare the child. I will tend him. My mistress and I will take care of him. You cannot allow the murder of an innocent child.”
A piercing wail emanated from the bundle.
“You have the child there? I would see him.”
The midwife turned her face away. “It’s bad luck to look upon one such as he.”
Antoine noticed Bretel’s nervousness. His own heart thudded in his ears, but he insisted. “Nevertheless, I will see him.”
Oda struggled to her feet and snatched the baby away from the agitated midwife. She cuddled the child, walked over to Antoine and opened the blanket.
His heart broke for Sybilla. The babe’s head was too big for his body, the legs stunted and bowed. His maleness seemed to be the only properly formed part of his body. Still smeared with the blood of his birth, he looked like a macabre goblin.
Antoine inhaled a deep breath and turned to his steward. “Bretel, please see that these women are paid well for their services and escorted home.”
Both midwives protested at once, but Bretel took them in hand.
Antoine waited until he heard the door close behind them, leaving him alone with the wild-eyed maidservant.
“Oda.”
The maid shook her head and clutched the bundle more tightly.
Antoine held out his arms. “Give him to me. I’ll not hurt him.”
Oda hesitated, then slowly released her grip and handed over the child. He pushed the blanket away from the baby’s face. A fierce desire to protect this deformed infant swept ov
er him. He curled the babe’s fingers around his forefinger. He would have to choose his words carefully. “Lady Sybilla has survived?”
“Oui, milord.”
“Has she seen her son?”
“Oui, milord.”
The babe gripped his finger. “She knows he lives, that he is—?”
A sob shuddered through her. “She knows. When the women seized him, she struggled to stop them, but was so weak she swooned. I had to leave her.”
Relief flowed through his veins, followed by alarm. “She’s alone still?”
Oda’s hands flew to her mouth. “My lady,” she cried, turning to hurry out of the hall.
Antoine followed close behind, clutching the infant to his chest. Life was suddenly even more complicated.
When they arrived at the chamber, Sybilla was lying in a dead faint close to the birthing stool. She was clad only in a bloodstained chemise. With a strangled cry, Oda fell to her knees beside her mistress.
Antoine felt an urge to lash out at something, anything. As if sensing his agitation, the baby squirmed, screaming loudly.
“Get up, Oda. Take the child.”
He bundled the baby into Oda’s arms then scooped Sybilla from the floor. She felt light in his arms. Her disheveled red hair hung like a thick curtain. Her body was warm, but she was as pale as death. He laid her on the bed, putting his ear to her mouth. “She breathes still.”
Oda tried unsuccessfully to calm the infant.
“Give the child to me,” Antoine growled. “See to your lady’s needs. You must save her.”
Oda nodded, handing over the wailing bundle.
He strode to the door and shouted for Bretel, who was hurrying down the corridor.
The steward came, panting breathlessly. “Milord?”
Antoine stuck the end of his finger in the boy’s mouth, relieved when he tried to suck. “Find a wet nurse.”
Bretel’s mouth fell open. “It won’t be easy, milord. He has two marks against him. He’s an Angevin nabot.”
Antoine’s first instinct was to strike his servant, something he never did, but Bretel spoke only the truth. “Do what you can. If Oda can save her lady, we’ll hope she can suckle the babe. Ask your wife to come and assist.”
Bretel nodded and left.
Antoine looked over to where Oda was frantically trying to revive her mistress. Helplessness wasn’t a feeling he was accustomed to.
Alise Bretel hurried into the chamber, accompanied by a servant carrying a bowl of water, linens and clean garments. Antoine turned away, sickened by the sight of Sybilla’s blood. He was a warrior, used to seeing blood, but this—
He chivvied the child, but nothing would soothe him. In frustration he handed him back to the maidservant. Time dragged by. Antoine went out into the hallway to pace. Agitated by the screams of hunger, he strode back into the chamber and took the child again.
“Milord.” Alise’s voice penetrated his confusion. “Bring the babe. He may suckle. We must try.”
Antoine’s spirits lifted when he saw that the women had managed to cleanse Sybilla, but she was still in a stupor. Oda had bared her mistress’s breast, but was shielding her from Antoine’s view. He passed the child to Alise who placed him at Sybilla’s breast.
Though his view was blocked, his erection soared.
Alise tried to get the infant to suckle. She glanced up and noticed Antoine’s stricken expression. “Don’t worry, milord, I’ve yet to meet the babe I couldn’t coax to the teat. If we can get him to suck, it might revive her.”
Overheated and feeling ashamed of himself, Antoine swallowed hard, resolved to take his leave from the chamber before he volunteered to show the babe how to suckle.
Sybilla stirred and gave a low moan. Her arms folded around her child. She opened her eyes and her confused gaze fell to the babe at her breast. Then she looked up at Oda and smiled. Alise seemed to suddenly become aware that Antoine’s eyes were fixed on the scene before him. She draped a linen over the child, hiding Sybilla’s breast from his view.
Sybilla noticed Antoine then and blushed. He cleared his throat. “I’m glad to see you are recovering from your ordeal, Lady Sybilla. I’ll leave you and your babe in the capable hands of these ladies.”
He turned to Alise, hoping coherent words would emerge from his mouth. “Make sure food is brought for our guests.”
Alise nodded. “Milord.”
His legs trembled as he left the chamber. He closed the door behind him and leaned back against it, willing his heart to stop racing and his arousal to subside.
A day later, Antoine was pacing the hallway outside Sybilla’s chamber, his emotions in knots. He wanted to see her, yet didn’t. What could he say to her about her child? How was she coping with the reality of birthing a boy who would be an outcast all his life? But he had to find out about Renouf. Did she know him? Why had he been a frequent visitor to Grandeguay? Taking a deep breath, he tapped on the door.
Oda appeared, bowed and ushered him in.
Antoine noted her new deference. “How is your lady?”
“I am feeling stronger,” Sybilla said.
She did indeed look a great deal better. She wore a clean veil over her hair, but he could see the fiery redness of it through the gauzy material. He swallowed hard. “The babe?”
She smiled. “Denis is asleep—at last.”
He marveled that she’d undergone an ordeal that would have broken most women, yet she looked radiant.
Oda sat beside the cradle.
Antoine opened his mouth, but no sound emerged from his dry throat.
“I wish to thank you from the bottom of my heart. Oda told me what happened. You saved my child’s life.”
Suddenly Antoine knew what had to be said. He judged her strong enough. “I saved him for the moment, Lady Sybilla, but the worst is not over yet, as you know. Discontent is growing in the village about the boy. It doesn’t help that he’s the son of Angevins, as well as—”
“—a monster, a nabot? Is that the word you were seeking?”
Resentment rose in his throat. “I’m not the one whose opinion you need to fear. I’ve protected the boy, and will continue to do so. But I’m here only briefly. Soon I must return to Grandeguay.”
Sybilla looked away, a tear trickling down her cheek. “I’m sorry. I’m very grateful for your actions. I suppose I’m—”
Antoine smiled. “You have undergone many ordeals in the last while. You are permitted to be testy, only now and again though.”
She smiled in return, but then grew weepy again. “If my husband were still alive, he would have choked the life out of Denis as soon as he set eyes on him.”
Antoine nodded, knowing she spoke the truth. He wondered what he would have done if it was his babe. He decided to change the subject. “Lady Sybilla, forgive me, I know you are tired, and I have no wish to impose upon you too long, but I have some questions.”
She arched her brows. “Questions?”
Antoine noticed Oda had moved to sit on the edge of her chair. “What can you tell me about Renouf de Maubadon?”
Sybilla cast a nervous glance at her maidservant.
“You do know the man?”
“I—do,” Sybilla stammered.
Antoine’s heart skipped a beat. Perhaps there was hope yet for Hugh and Devona. Oda rose and came to stand at the edge of the bed. Antoine gave her a stern look, then turned back to Sybilla. “I don’t have time to play games. My brother’s life may depend on what I find out about this man, so tell me now what you know of him.”
Sybilla looked stricken. “To do so would betray my husband.”
He did not want to distress her further, but he had to know. “Tell me. I saved your child’s life, now you can repay me by saving my brother. Your husband didn’t care that he trapped you in a smoke-filled donjon. I brought you here when I could have sent you to my duke.”
A choked sob escaped Sybilla’s lips, and she shook her head. “I cannot.”
; “Tell him, milady.”
It shocked Antoine that Oda had spoken so forcefully to her mistress. The maid repeated her words. “Tell him.”
Sybilla sniffled and blew her nose. She averted her eyes. “He is—was—a friend of my husband’s.”
A chill crept up Antoine’s spine. “Friend? What kind of friend?”
“She doesn’t know, milord,” Oda said quietly. “But I do.”
Sybilla looked at her maid curiously. “What do you mean?”
Oda sighed. “Renouf de Maubadon was the kind of friend who brought money.”
Sybilla looked confused. “Money for what?”
Antoine was beginning to understand. He spoke before the maid could answer. “I suspect for armaments, horses, payment for mercenaries. Am I right?”
Oda nodded.
This was evidently where the money had gone from Melton Manor—to support the Angevins.
Sybilla suddenly looked afraid. “You know where the money came from, don’t you?”
“I have a suspicion. Thank you. I must leave for Grandeguay and thence to Le Mans to speak with my brother.”
The fear in her eyes intensified and he wanted it gone. “I’ll leave orders with Bretel that you and the babe are to be protected.”
He itched to wipe away her tears, to embrace her, give reassurance and solace, but was afraid she would recoil at his touch, the touch of her enemy. “I’ll return home as soon as I can, but it may be a fortnight or more.”
He bowed to Sybilla and then strode over to the cradle. “Oda, take good care of your mistress, and little Denis.”
Oda nodded.
“Safe journey, milord Antoine,” Sybilla rasped as he left.
“We had to tell him,” Oda exclaimed. “I never did trust that Renouf.”
Sybilla was tired and confused. “I know.”
Montbryce seemed an honorable, decent man. But her hatred of Normans was so ingrained she did not know if she could trust him. No doubt he had nothing but contempt for all Angevins. Yet, he had gone to great lengths to protect them. She had hoped he would take hold of her hand and brush his lips to it in parting. Her body warmed at the prospect.
Defiance (The Montbryce Legacy Anniversary Edition Book 2) Page 15