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Authors: Roberta Gellis

ASilverMirror (47 page)

Barbara patted her hand. “I am delighted to learn that poor
Alphonse may be allowed to visit me. We both feared he would be held on as
short a leash as the prince, but Hugh may watch us all he likes. Neither
Alphonse nor I will do anything he might disapprove while in Northampton.”

When she spoke of Despenser’s disapproval, Barbara was
thinking only of communication with Edward’s friends or Gloucester’s allies.
She had for the moment forgotten that they might do other things that would
displease Despenser, because she had forgotten all about Guy. He remained
totally absent from her mind over the next few busy days as she prepared to
leave for Northampton and during the journey, too.

Spring was finally in the air. Although showers were
frequent, their damp was compensated by the beauty of the rainbows sparkling on
every new blade of grass and newly unfolded leaf. And the sun that lit the
rainbows was growing warm enough to drive off the damp swiftly. Barbara was
absorbed by the miracle of rebirth, amused by the presence of her friend,
charmed by an accidental meeting now and then with her husband as the cortege
moved and halted, now this portion now that coming forward or falling back. She
had not a single thought for the unpleasant ugliness that was Guy de Montfort.

Because Barbara had forgotten him so completely, she agreed
eagerly to accompany Despenser’s party to the great hall of the castle after
dinner the day they arrived in Northampton. She had news for Alphonse, if she
could find a private moment for a whisper. She had heard Despenser say that
orders had already been written to the sheriffs of Worcestershire,
Gloucestershire, and Herefordshire—before the date when Gloucester was due to
answer the challenge of the tourney—to summon the
posse comitatus
, the
whole armed forces they commanded. Did this mean that Leicester was sure
Gloucester would not arrive and was simply saving time? Or was that army to be
a trap laid to capture Gloucester on his way home—if he was not mortally
injured “by accident” at the tourney?

Barbara was sick with fury over the implications of the
information Hugh had dropped. So swiftly did she set out to greet Alphonse,
when she caught sight of the tall prince whose head topped the many people in
the hall that she left Aliva behind. That was not intentional. She knew Aliva
would deliberately immerse herself so completely in conversation with the
prince himself or with his other attendants that she would not hear anything
Barbara said or notice what she did. Her sudden movement and Aliva’s soft gasp
of dismay—she had just caught sight of young Simon de Montfort—drew Despenser’s
attention. He saw Alphonse wave at his wife and start toward her, noticed Aliva
following Barbara, and after a moment’s hesitation, he also moved toward the
prince’s party, not on Barbara’s heels but at an oblique angle.

He was, thus, just behind and a yard to the right of Guy de
Montfort when Guy pushed aside John FitzJohn, who was also moving toward Edward
and his attendants, and stepped right into Barbara’s path. William Muntchenesy
caught Lord John’s elbow to steady him and both began to protest Guy’s rude
behavior, but Guy only reached toward Barbara and said, “I have been waiting
for you. Come.”

The shock and disgust Barbara felt on finding herself almost
breast to breast with Guy was all the greater because he had been expunged from
her mind until that moment. She was already angry about what seemed like
treachery on Leicester’s part, and when Guy touched her, her temper shattered,
destroying any idea of caution. She swung her arm in an arc and smashed her
clenched fist into the side of Guy’s nose.

“Lecher!” she shrieked at the top of her voice. “Take your
hand from me, you filth!”

Half stunned, with blood streaming from his nose, Guy
bellowed with rage and reached out to grab her shoulder, but she had already
jumped back. Unfortunately Aliva was so close behind that Barbara bumped into
her and could not altogether avoid Guy’s touch. Instead of falling on her
shoulder, his hand landed on her breast and tightened. Barbara cried out and
twisted away, but his fingers caught on the fabric of her gown. Barbara thrust
at his hand, and Guy instinctively gripped harder. Simultaneously, John
FitzJohn seized him by the left arm and Despenser by the shoulder, and both men
tried to pull him away. Barbara’s tunic and surcoat seams tore under the
strain, leaving her thin shift the only covering over her left breast. With
loud exclamations of shock, FitzJohn and Despenser released their hold on Guy.

Because he had been resisting them, Guy staggered forward,
completely off balance, crashing into Barbara, who stumbled back. Feeling
himself falling, Guy let go of Barbara’s gown to take hold of some more stable
support. The check to his forward movement came from another source, however. A
large hand seized his hair and pulled him away from Barbara. Soon as he was
upright, his hair was released, he was spun around, and a fist as hard as steel
crashed into his chin. Guy went down like a stunned ox.

Alphonse bent to pick him up and hit him again, but Prince
Edward had grabbed him by one arm and Thomas de Clare by the other. They pulled
Alphonse away from Guy, both shouting to let be. Aliva had caught and steadied
Barbara, who had pulled up her tunic and was holding it in place, though her
surcoat still hung loosely over her waist.

The noise and violence suddenly became a breath-held silence
broken only by Guy’s groan. Alphonse said, “Let me go to my wife,” and the
prince and Thomas released him. He stepped over Guy’s prone body and pulled
Barbara into his arms. Despenser bent over Guy, who was beginning to stir, and
the tight crowd that had formed opened to admit Leicester and young Simon, who
helped his brother to his feet.

“Who committed this outrage?” Leicester asked.

“Guy,” Alphonse answered before anyone else could speak. “I
merely stopped him from assaulting my wife.”

“In public?” young Simon sneered. “Nonsense.”

A low but very ugly sound, a growling snarl, came from the
crowd. Leicester looked at the angry, unfriendly faces—even his strongest
allies, Despenser and Muntchenesy were clearly angry and disgusted, and
FitzJohn made a gesture of contempt.

“Guy—” Leicester began, but Barbara pulled free of her
husband before he could finish.

“Do you think I ordinarily come to court with my breasts
bare?” she asked furiously, showing her torn dress to the crowd, which was
growing larger by the moment. “Guy said he had been waiting for me, ordered me
to come with him, and when I shook my head he grabbed my breast. Ask Lord Hugh
and Lord John, who tried to pull him off me. Do I lie, my lords?”

“You hot slut—” Guy began.

Whereupon Leicester turned on his son and slapped his face.
“Out,” he said gesturing to the door, and then to Simon, “See that he stays in
his quarters today. I will talk to him in the morning.”

“I hope your talk will induce him to keep his hands from my
wife,” Alphonse said.

Edward had stepped forward and put a comforting hand on
Barbara’s shoulder. “When my father ruled, even princes did not meddle with
decent wives in this country, my lord earl,” he said to Leicester.

“Your father still rules,” Leicester snapped.

Edward laughed. “Perhaps, but his son no longer has the
power to protect his subjects.”

“There is no need for personal protection,” Leicester said.
“There is the law—”

“I should have let him rape me and then sued him?” Barbara
shrieked.

Leicester’s face twisted with mingled anger and distress.
“The fault is mine,” he said. “Guy wished to marry this lady, and I forbade
it.”

“No, my lord,” Barbara spat. “Guy never offered me marriage.
I only told my father that tale because I was afraid he would kill Guy and
break the peace.”

“I think you misunderstood,” Leicester said coldly. “Guy is
young and impulsive. You hurt him. Now I think it would be best if you were not
constantly in his sight.”

“You would separate me from my husband and remove me from
public sight?” Barbara cried. “Why? So that I can be taken and abused at your
son’s will and no man the wiser?”

“Good God, no!” Leicester exclaimed. “I am sure it will be
the prince’s pleasure to release your husband from his household. He may then
carry you home to France where you will be safe.”

“If we are not taken on the road, so I can be murdered and
my wife enslaved,” Alphonse said. “And do not make light of the threat. Guy
tried it once already not far north of Gloucester—”

“That is how we came to be taken prisoner by Hamo le
Strange,” Barbara put in. “We would have been safe in the town had not Alphonse
had to fight Guy and I to flee north for safety.”

“You will have no more trouble from Guy in public, in
private, on the road, or anywhere else,” Leicester said, his mouth grim.
“Again, the fault is mine. I did not realize the boy was obsessed. The problem
will be corrected. To be certain you are safe—”

“You will send an escort?” Alphonse looked around at the
watchers. “Where will we arrive, I wonder, my wife and I? And who will ever
know what has become of us?”


I
will send an escort,” Despenser said, cutting off
an explosion of rage from Leicester. “From the time you leave my lodging, the
men will obey no orders except those you give, Sieur Alphonse. And we will say
nothing of your destination. You may order the captain to take you where you
will after you leave Northampton.”

“I thank you, my lord.” Barbara bent her knee in a curtsy.
She did not like Hugh le Despenser, but she knew his narrow sense of honor.
What he promised, he would perform honestly.

Her sense of satisfaction in getting back at Guy upheld
Barbara until Alphonse had escorted her into Aliva’s solar. They were alone.
Aliva had wanted to accompany her friend home, but Despenser forbade her,
saying it was her duty to stay behind and heal whatever damage the incident had
done. Barbara had smiled and kissed her, assuring her she needed no female
support. Now, however, the shock that rage and glee had kept at bay made her
knees tremble and presented a side to the incident she had not before
considered.

“I am so sorry, Alphonse,” she whispered, raising stricken
eyes to him.

“Sorry?” Alphonse repeated absently. He had stopped not far
from the door, his eyes fixed ahead unseeingly, his mind clearly busy. Then his
eyes focused and when he saw the expression on her face, he moved quickly to
take her into his arms. “Sorry for what, love?”

“You warned me about Guy, but I forgot all about him, and
now I have lost Prince Edward a friend—”

“No, dear heart,” he kissed her lightly, and when he lifted
his head he was wearing a broad smile, “I did that, and I did it apurpose. Had
I wished to avoid the confrontation, I needed only to cry out that you were
fainting and hysterical and have carried you away the moment I took you in my
arms. In fact, you miracle of a woman, it is I who should beg your pardon for
exposing you to more insult and anguish, but I knew you would do just the right
thing.”

Barbara was silent for a moment and then said in a lowered
voice, “You wanted an excuse to return to Gilbert in Wales?”

“My work here is done. I am as familiar as I need to be with
the way Edward is guarded and the workings of his household. What plans could
be made have been made. Thomas has a new way to get word out, and I would
prefer to explain the possibilities for escape to Gilbert and Mortimer myself.
Some matters must be left to chance, but one thing is essential. There must be
no war, no open break between Leicester and Gloucester, until the prince is
free.”

“Because without Edward’s influence, Gilbert will be
defeated.”

“We are sure of it. Gilbert is a fine soldier, but he can
raise troops only from his own lands. Few except the lords Marcher, who are
already declared enemies to Leicester, will join him. The case will be very
different if Edward raises his own banner. So the prince has ordered me to
persuade Gilbert to hesitate and negotiate while openly preparing for war. That
will fix Leicester’s attention on Gilbert, which Edward will encourage by
acting meek and docile.”

“Meek and docile? But what he said in the hall—”

“Gave the impression that he is trying to sow dissension
from within the court.”

“And therefore has given up the idea of escape.”

Knowing that Alphonse and the prince had been deliberately
baiting Leicester gave Barbara a brief flash of regret. For a moment she saw
the earl as a noble old stag beset by yapping, snapping hounds. The regret did
not last, however. Leicester might be noble, but he was also blind, still offering
excuses for the inexcusable Guy.

“I doubt we can befool Leicester that far.” Alphonse’s voice
broke into Barbara’s thought. “But we do hope to soften his suspicion, which is
why Edward does not wish to send me away himself. Unfortunately, Leicester has
been so careful not to seem to interfere with Edward that we were not certain
how to induce him to dismiss me.” He grinned and kissed her again. “And then
you arranged it all.”

Barbara could not help laughing. “You make it sound as if I
planned to have my dress torn off by that clod.”

“Did you not?” Alphonse asked lightly.

“I would not even have quarreled with him if I had not
already been angry about something else,” Barbara said, suddenly reminded of
why she had run into Guy without seeing him. She then hurriedly told Alphonse
about Leicester’s orders to the sheriffs for May 3. “Is it a trap? Would they
have taken Gilbert on his way home if he had come to the tourney?”

“I cannot swear, but I think part of the price Leicester
would ask for a reconciliation would be that Gilbert not go west again, leaving
the Marchers to Leicester’s mercy. Of course, if Gilbert made and kept such an
agreement and went, say, to Tonbridge, there would be no way to spring any
trap. So Leicester is not being dishonest.”

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