by Robyn Carr
Faon straightened as if slapped, her lips pursed in a tight line. “What about Derek?”
Hyatt shrugged. “I made my oath to Derek, though he was not old enough to understand. I make my oath here and now to this child, since there is no question it is mine. If you wish to raise any questions, Mistress Faon, raise the question of your own future. You are the one to worry.”
Her voice was strained and hurt. “Hyatt, do you warn me before your wife, your men?”
“You are the one person foolish enough to question my intentions before this woman and these men. Shall I answer you before them?” He shook his head and frowned at the panicked look on her face. “I have said that you would be cared for as long as you mother my son to my liking and you heed your place in my household. Yet you strain my generosity. If you do not like your circumstances, you are free to go. If you wish to stay, mind your behavior carefully. I am very weary of the trouble you create.”
“Do you warn her?” Faon asked in a trembling voice. “Or is it so different because you have made her your wife?”
“Everyone who lives on my mercy knows it, except you.” He turned his head to look at Aurélie, but her eyes were downcast as she quietly listened to what he had to say. She was amazed that there was little anger in his voice. “You, who have the most cause to be careful, practice the least caution. You assume some rights that have never been granted to you, publicly or even privately. Yea, the lady was warned, and further, she heeds the warning. She has quickly learned the one thing that you fail to grasp. I value her while she serves me faithfully. If the loyal service fails, the value drops. Likewise, the greater energy put to honoring my lordship, to lending dignity to my name, the higher esteem she gains in my house.
“Now I see that my generosity with you bites me, for you are ungrateful and unwise. I regret that I let you think I could be used so easily.”
He turned to mount the stairs, holding Aurélie’s elbow.
“Hyatt … please …”
He turned back to her. “My last warning to you is this—if you destroy what you have by your own lips, your own foolishness, I will not attempt to rescue you. I have not betrayed you yet. Will you betray yourself?”
Aurélie’s eyes narrowed in confusion, for what Hyatt said caused the woman to clamp her mouth shut and turn away from him. She followed him up the stairs, letting out her breath in a sigh when the door was closed behind them. She stood, feeling oddly out of place, as Hyatt moved away from her to light candles and open shutters to let the cooling summer breezes cleanse the stale air in their chamber. There was a heavy silence that she did not break for many minutes.
“She hates me so, Hyatt. I cannot blame her; she thinks I have taken you away from her.”
“If she does, she lies to herself.”
“But she does … and I alone know that you dislike all women and only value their work and the children they might give you.”
He smiled slightly. “I have never cared much for women; they are treacherous and use their feigned devotion as brutally as a soldier uses his sword. They pledge it, remove it, cripple men with it, and then hold it as a chain around their lives. I do not wish to allow any woman that kind of dominion over me. Yea, I see that Faon wishes to do this to me, and I refuse to be drawn into her plan. Yet I know the worth of loyalty. Do not betray me, Aurélie, and perhaps you will be content.”
“You could do the same to me,” she said softly. “Mayhap you will be pleased with me for a few years and then cast me aside for another.”
“My lady, Mistress Faon has not been deposed from her position by my marriage to you.”
“Of course she has. She was your woman before you …”
Hyatt shook his head. “Faon has assumed some sense of privilege because she is the mother of my son. She has taken liberties with servants and even guards, all on behalf of Derek. But she was never at my right side, never granted privy authority on my behalf, and was never seated above the salt. Faon is a servant in my household. She holds a high position of servitude since Derek is her son, but nothing about her life has changed at all since I wed you. If she held onto some hope that I would marry her one day, she did so despite my many assurances to the contrary.”
“Do you mean to say that you got her with child and kept her as a servant? A slave?”
“Would I have been a better man to abandon them both? To fail to follow my own act with responsibility? Or to deny her the right of motherhood by taking away her child? Perhaps I should have chosen not to be a father, though in truth the boy is mine. Or would you say me righteous to marry her despite the fact that she would be a poor wife?”
“But do you not see how she hurts for want of you?”
He sighed. “Does it appear, because of the woman’s suffering, that I am not steadfast? That I am without honor? Need I plead my case to you? To my men? To a priest?”
“Your men seem not to judge you, Hyatt. I do not wish to judge you, but …”
He approached her and grasped her gently by her upper arms. He looked deeply into her eyes and then slowly covered her mouth with his. She was amazed at the way his kiss caused her to tremble, weaken, and give herself to his embrace. She did not lie to herself that she obliged in the obedience he demanded. She relished the taste and touch of him. It was not for her rightful place in her home or for the people who depended on her that her pulse quickened and she returned his caress. He had only just come to her, by route of the most skilled sword, and it was already becoming impossible to think of living without him.
He released her mouth and looked into her eyes. “Judge me, Aurélie. I welcome it; I encourage it. But do not ask me to defend myself against the slurs of others, or explain myself in the face of another’s unhappiness. Ask no other how I should be judged. Look at my acts and decide for yourself. I will not argue that I am honorable and loyal. I will not beg to be believed or understood. I will never win my good reputation by laying down in speeches the low virtues of another. I did all that once and learned that there is only one way to the truth—through what a man does, and not through rumors and accusations.”
“It may prove the harder way, Hyatt.”
“It is always the harder way. But the surest.”
* * *
There burned a single candle on a small stool near the open window. The hour was past midnight and the summer sky was filled with luminous stars. The air was cool and a half-moon sat high against the black velvet of the sky.
Faon knelt on the floor beside the candle. Nima sat on a bench before the open window. Derek and the servants slept soundly, but still Faon’s voice was hushed.
“You must kill her.”
Nima’s old hands trembled. “I cannot. I will not.”
“If you refuse me, I will tell Hyatt all. All!”
“Even though you are foolish enough to jeopardize your only shelter, you are not foolish enough to end your own life.”
“She must not have this child. Nima, she must not.”
“Do not ask me again, Faon. I have obliged you in too many evil things. I will not do this for you.”
“We will perish if he does not become my lover soon. Derek will perish.”
“Nay, to Derek he is committed. You must accept the truth soon. If you do not, he will cast you out with nothing.”
Faon fell into soft tears. “I was good enough once. He denies himself, but he wants me. I know it. I know it. I have always known it. Why does he do this to me?”
Nima’s shaking hand reached forward and gently brushed the hair away from her granddaughter’s face. “You tricked him into siring the child, as was your plan. It served, Faon, for he took you from your father’s house as you wished. You have not worn a bruise since we escaped Montrose. But Hyatt is clever and has avoided the bindings you would tie about him. Nothing has worked to change him. Nothing will. Accept his charity and abide here in peace, or give him his son and let us go.”
“I could have gone with Verel,” she wept. “He
said that he would take her away. He lied to me so that I would secure the horse and weapons for him. He used me. All I asked of him was that he take her away and leave Hyatt for me again, but I should have bidden him to take me.”
“Faon … did you dally with the man? Did you—”
“He is young and handsome … and one of her own men. As a captain of a troop, he had any woman of his desire, but longed for the woman, Aurélie. He wished to take her away. I would have done anything to get her out of here.”
“Faon,” Nima issued in a breath, “did you tamper with one of Hyatt’s enemies?”
Faon looked away from her grandmother as if in shame, but her mouth was set in a petulant line. “What do you expect? That I will go to my grave as a spoiled virgin who has known the touch of a man but once? Even in your old age you must understand the loneliness of such an existence.”
“Oh Faon … did you not learn with Thormond? The only men who will ever touch you are those who hate Hyatt. That is not love, but revenge. You have but to seek freedom from Hyatt and you will be allowed to wed a man who will be faithful to you. But to dally with those men who would kill Hyatt …”
“I thought he would take her away … but he failed,” Faon went on, as if she did not hear a word of Nima’s advice. “If he returns, I will go with him. I will have to.”
“Faon,” Nima whispered urgently. “If you come with child …”
“You will give me the herbs. Do not worry.”
“ ’Tis dangerous, Faon. Women die …”
“I did not die the last time.”
“Hyatt does not care what you do, Faon. Find another man, one who will be smitten enough to take you to wife.”
“But Hyatt is rich and powerful. Who is more so? Not Verel. Not Thormond. And some of his men play with me, but none will leave Hyatt. Nay, Nima. I have followed him all this time, living in tents as some extra baggage. I deserve to be his lady. He will come to me again.”
The old woman straightened and looked out the window. “He has not lain with you since Derek. He promised you that he would do his duty to this child, but no more. You should have taken him at his word. You know he never loved you, but I think he hates you now. If you are wise …”
The old woman’s voice trailed off. She did not finish because it was hopeless. Since leaving Montrose’s house with Faon and Hyatt, she had begged her granddaughter to listen to reason. But Faon thought only in terms of plots and schemes to get the knight under her spell. Nima feared the girl would meet death before realizing her error.
Chapter Eleven
“Mistress Faon has released me from service since the woman Perrine mostly cares for young Derek,” Thea told Aurélie.
“How interesting, since your mistress was most demanding of additional servants.”
Thea shrugged. Her expression was insolent and unhappy. “She finds she does not need so many after all.”
“Then, does it not occur to her to return my servant to me?”
“You may ask her, if it pleases you, but I think Perrine’s service is more to her liking than mine. She has sent me to you to seek a position in your bedchamber.”
“My bedchamber?” Aurélie glanced over her shoulder into the room. The hour was so early that Hyatt was only just strapping on his spurs and Baptiste had not yet arrived to begin her own chores. Overhearing the conversation in the opened portal of his bedchamber, he peered at Aurélie with a raised brow and an odd smirk.
“My woman, Baptiste, is much younger than you, but she is my handmaiden and you would have to take instruction from her. And I will not allow laziness or insolence. Do you wish to labor under these conditions, or are you better placed at some other castle chore?”
Thea cocked her head slightly, her mouth turned in a grimace of distaste. The young woman’s thin, sharp features made her seem constantly perturbed. “Since I have done nothing other than aid Mistress Faon by attending her and caring for her child, there is nothing else I have learned to do.”
“Do not despair, Thea,” Aurélie said, her teeth showing in a cunning smile. “If you prove incompetent in my chamber, I know of several women who would willingly teach you cooking, cleaning meat, harvesting grain, emptying pots, or perhaps laundry.”
The maid actually winced slightly.
“I am certain that you will work hard to please me,” Aurélie continued. Baptiste, on her way to Aurélie’s bedchamber, came down the hall and stopped short behind Thea when she viewed the maid and her mistress in conversation. The small blond girl held her hands clasped before her and stood in nervous silence. “Baptiste,” Aurélie urged, holding the door open wider for her maid to come forward, “you will be most pleased to know that Mistress Faon, in a rare and generous mood, has sent one of her own maids to assist you in my bedchamber.” Baptiste’s eyes grew round and alarmed at the mere prospect. “It will be your responsibility to teach Thea, for I am certain my ways are not the same as Faon’s, and if she fails to meet your high standards, you must tell me at once so that I can find another chore for her somewhere in the castle. And do not delay, for poor Thea would only suffer ennui without work to occupy her.”
“Yea, my lady,” Baptiste said quietly, passing her mistress and going into the bedchamber. She kept her eyes downcast as she circled the room, keeping far from Hyatt’s brooding stare as she always did.
“Go ahead, Thea,” Aurélie urged. “Baptiste will show you how I like things done. And do remember, Thea, if you fail to please Baptiste, it will be impossible for you to please me.”
Aurélie stood in the opened door while Thea joined Baptiste on the far side of the room, where the latter passed her the basin of dirty wash water to be dumped. Aurélie watched Hyatt as he looked at them for a moment, then picking up his gauntlets, made to leave the room. He paused for just a moment in the door, a small smile curling his lip and a twinkle in his eye. “If you mean to be such a difficult taskmaster, my lady, why do you not save Faon all this trouble and simply send the girl back to her?”
“We make good use of our people, seigneur. No one has ever been idle in this castle or town … until very recently.”
“Do you not see that she wishes to have one of her own women in your rooms? Otherwise, she would release Perrine.”
“Of course, Hyatt.”
“Then why do you—?”
He stopped abruptly as he noted her clear-eyed acceptance of the fact. His hand deftly reached around to slap her posterior with a snap of his gauntlets. “Do not make trouble where there is none,” he quietly warned.
“Humph,” she grunted, rubbing the insult with both her hands. “I am ever getting warnings, and ever trying to set things aright. You are most unfair.”
He began to turn away, but stopped abruptly, studying her face again. “You have never bemoaned Faon’s treatment of you. Why do you go to such lengths to bite your tongue against criticizing her? I know you could sound many complaints; why do you voice none?”
“Hyatt, would it do any good?” she asked dismally. “Nay, do not answer me. I do not seek to win you from Mistress Faon; ’tis much the other way around. I pity her for that. I know she would be less cruel and easier to abide if only she felt that you desire her.”
He shook his head and a pained expression came into his eyes. “My lady, you do not know the woman at all. She—”
He was cut off by a shout from below. A runner had been sent from the outer wall to alert Hyatt and other knights of an approaching army carrying an English banner.
“Hyatt,” Aurélie gasped. “Is this a trick?”
“Trick?” he echoed, looking at her quizzically.
“Sir Hollis, of the Château Innesse?”
“Who told you about that?”
“I have heard your men talk, Hyatt. You never mentioned that you visited an old enemy who had roosted nearby.”
He sighed and took her elbow, leading her down the stairs with him. “My lady, if you are given to listening to gossip, you would be better plac
ed in coming to me for confirmation of the facts. Sir Hollis and I despise each other and have had repeated contests, but I doubt that he will ride up to my gate, his banner raised, and beg admittance. That is my way; his methods are much more treacherous.
“But, come along. We will not open the gate hastily. The countryside has quieted a great deal since the landed armies arrived, and whether we will it or not, we will be having visits from neighboring towns and keeps.”
She went willingly through the hall and into the courtyard. Hyatt’s efficient squire had speedily brought his destrier to the inner bailey that the lord might ride the distance to the gate. He released his wife’s arm and mounted. She looked up at him and nearly sighed in admiration. He cut an elegant figure when astride. “Do you go out without armor, mail, or a shield?”
He broke into a wide grin. “Do you worry for me, petite?”
She was instantly sorry she had asked. Whenever she inquired of him for the sake of safety, he failed to return the compliment by showing similar concern for her, but rather teased her as if she had finally weakened and had fallen in love with him. “You are a conceited lout,” she said. “I simply worry that we will be conquered again and again when new attackers slay the last warlord, and my misery will be repeated over and over.”
“You needn’t doubt my skills to that extent, my lady.”
“ ’Tis not your skills,” she said, whirling away from him and beginning the long trek to the outer wall afoot. “ ’Tis your good sense I doubt,” she flung over her shoulder at him.
She had taken perhaps a dozen steps at a quick, agitated pace when she heard the horse hooves come up alongside her. She did not turn in his direction, which proved her major mistake, for he leaned low on the side of his destrier and circled her waist with his competent arm and whisked her effortlessly off her feet, pulling her up onto his lap. She gasped in surprise as she found herself seated in front of him on the huge steed. “Sometimes, Aurélie, I think you are softening your opinion of me. I have heard apologies from your lips and betimes I swear I hear your fear for my safety in your voice. Come, madame, and we will greet whoever calls together, as lord and lady.”