Rose (34 page)

Eleanor leaned in for a hug, kissing each of Constance's cheeks. “Thank you for your concern. I was tired from the long journey. I slept and slept, though now I feel much better. I am so hungry I could eat a lion.”

Bo giggled from his place on the couch, and all the ladies laughed. Mamie noticed how quickly Eleanor could charm.
Poisoned? By whom?

Mamie watched Constance put the gossip of an affair to rest by making room for her on the couch, then reaching for a plate
of melon. “Eat this, and if you're still hungry, we shall go hunting
for that lion.”

“What have you all done during this rain?” Eleanor accepted
the plate, using a dainty silver fork to spear the fruit.

“We have played games, napped.” Constance laughed. “I think we all needed the rest. I see blue skies trying to come out behind those gray clouds.”

“I would like to ride, if the path dries enough to take the horses down,” Eleanor said.

“We will have the servants put straw on the road. I think an outing is a wonderful idea. Are you certain?”

“
Oui
.” Eleanor took a cube of cheese. “I am ready to leave the palace.”

In all the years Mamie had known Eleanor, she'd never seen the queen so quiet. Taking the time for introspection? She, too, was ready to leave. Missing Dominus, she'd tried to sneak past the guard outside, but despite the rain, there were always two on patrol. She hated that they'd argued, though the facts had not changed.

She'd watched Jocelyn go into the Templar House as if he were a welcome member, only to come out again with Bartholomew.

Remembering Dominus's distrust of the commander, she'd followed Jocelyn and Bartholomew to a muddy field, where men, Templars and secular knights, fought in hand-to-hand combat. She'd glimpsed Everard's dirty face, but Dominus was nowhere to be found.

She hoped he hadn't been found out, that he wasn't paying for their secret rendezvous with disgrace. Surely Everard would have sent word.

“Do you not agree, Mamie?” Eleanor asked, her lips twitching as if she knew she pulled her from private thoughts.

“Hm,” she answered with a nod.

“You just agreed that women should be allowed to fight in battle.” Lady Hortencia laughed.

“Oh, well, yes, I do.” Mamie looked at Eleanor. “We have our own swords, specially made for us. We trained, before things turned so bad in Laodicea. Then we, like everyone, conserved our energy. There was not much food to go around.”

“Before we bring back the dark clouds,” Fay said, getting to her feet, “we were quite skilled at protecting our queen. And entertaining too.”

“King Louis allowed you to do this?” Lady Hortencia asked, leaning forward.

Eleanor's cheeks flushed with angry color. “I am Duchess of Aquitaine, and I have my own vassals. My own castles and warriors.”

Lady Hortencia bit a thumbnail. “It seems dangerous.”

“The pilgrimage was dangerous. We risked much to get here. And we will risk more to finish the quest.” Eleanor calmed. “Constance, a princess in her own right, probably understands best what it is like to
rule
as a woman.”

Mamie realized that Eleanor had just sided herself with Constance, rather than separating them as she'd done before.

Constance sat straighter. “Raymond and I listen to one another.
I respect his battle experience, and he acknowledges that
without me, he would not be prince of anything.” She put a hand on her son's back. “And when we are gone, it will go to Bo.”

“As it should be,” Lady Hortencia said quickly, eager to regain
her popularity with the princess. “A son is best.”

Constance winced, and Eleanor inhaled sharply. “Mamie, would you come back to the room with me for a moment? Fay, we will return shortly.”

The two women waked quickly from the room and down the palace hall to their private chamber.

As soon as the chamber door was closed, Eleanor exploded. “That stupid woman. A son is best? Where would our men be without women?”

Larissa peeked in through the open doorway between the chambers. “
Oui
?”

“Never mind. Bring me the letter—the one with the red seal.”

Mamie waited while Larissa got it and brought it back. “Here.”

Eleanor accepted it, then gave it to Mamie. “This is for Patriarch Aimery. I want to meet with him, specifically regarding the laws of consanguinity.”

“You cannot marry anyone within the fourth degree.” Remembering Louis and Eleanor's match, Mamie added, “Without special dispensation from the pope.”

“Which I have, I know. I want to meet with him immediately. Bring him back with you, if possible.” Eleanor's face turned white. “This could be the single most important assignment I have ever given you.”

Mamie's breath caught, but she asked in clear tones, “Is it to be a secret meeting?”

“No. By the time all is said and done, it will not matter.”

She willed herself to feel nothing as she brought about the end of an ideal.

Dominus cursed the three days of dripping skies, which kept him from finding Mamie. At first he wanted to make her see his side, but then he realized that she was better off without him and his personal hell. The commander did not even pretend to have a good reason for keeping him in his room, other than he thought the time alone would be beneficial to his soul.

As if the man had the right to cast blame! Everard had told him that he'd found out Commander Bartholomew was born a peasant but raised high in a noble's home. Passed over for the
position of Master Templar in Jerusalem because of his birth. Dominus understood the man's anger, but not the vindictive behavior.

With no physical outlet, he had resorted to running in place and doing exercises in his room. He prayed, all right, for sunshine, for an answer, for escape.

“Dominus! Tell me what is troubling you,” Everard asked. “I will not share your woes with anyone, God's oath.” He held
up a hand. “You have not slept, which means I have not slept. I know you love Lady Mamille. I had thought you would be married by now.”

Dominus stopped running in place and stared at the younger
knight. “Married? She does not want to be married. She dreams of flying, and that would surely clip her wings.”

Everard huffed. “She loves you. Even I can see that. And you love her.”

“True.” He started running again, the sound of his shoes clopping like a team of horses in their chamber. He had never been in such torment.

“So what is the matter?”

Dominus ran faster, until he couldn't breathe. Then he leaned over, his hands on his knees. “She is loyal to the queen,” he gasped.

“
Oui
?” Everard sat on the edge of his bed, fanning his face. “You are making it hot in here. And smelly.”

Dominus blew out a deep breath. “She does not understand that I feel things for my family that are not just duty-bound. I do it because I must, but a part of that is love.”

“Did you tell her?”

“It will not stop raining long enough for me to find her!” With that, Dominus began his brutal pace once more. “But then I remember that I should let her go.”

“If this is about your pride—”

“I don't understand why that keeps entering the conversation.
I do not boast of my skill as a knight or my prowess with the ladies. I'm quiet. Trustworthy. Honorable.”

“So what's the problem, exactly?” Everard crossed his ankles and leaned back against the wall.

“You have to understand that I despised my father.”

“Ah,” Everard said, as if getting to the bottom of the well at last.

“He cared only about his . . . his home. Not about the people
in it. So I left. I became a skilled knight. I had manors, men who answered to me, and money.”

“Were you happy?”

“I was too busy to be unhappy,” Dominus said. “But when my brothers sent word that our father had died? I did not go home.”

Everard said nothing.

“I felt righteous, you understand?” Dominus held a hand over his eyes. “How could you? You were mentored by the Archangel Gabriel.”

Everard snorted. “So you did not go home . . . when your family needed you?”

“They had my older brother, but then he died too.”

“They really did need you,” Everard surmised. “You are drowning with guilt.”

“I did not go home, not until it was far too late. My younger brother's wife, Meggie, sent a letter, begging me to return. Everyone
I'd hated was dead. But I did not hate them. She did not understand at all. She asked me to carry on, as was my duty. To shoulder the keep and the village on the brink of total ruin.” Dominus choked on his anger. “She dared to ask me who would take care of all the children.” Dominus realized he'd somehow fallen to his knees.

Everard rose from his bed and placed a hand on Dominus's shoulder. “You, who saw what your father had done, who never wanted children, came home to a pile of stones overrun with the beasts—is that right?”

Dominus nodded. “Meggie and a few younger ladies from the village had their hands full. I stayed for three months before—”
He stopped before offering a full confession to the younger man.

“I arrived at the keep like some conquering hero, only to find the emptiness in the walls without my brothers and father there. I'd been a damned fool. My brothers had tried to find help, borrowing money from the bishop.”

Everard lifted his hand with surprise.

“A family friend. I paid him what I had, but it was not enough.”

“How does that lead you to the Templars?” Everard asked softly.

Dominus bit his tongue, wishing he could take back his outburst. Dear God, and he thought Mamie was emotional? He had almost told an innocent knight the truth. That the
brother
he looked up to was not worth the effort.

He'd shown that to his half-brothers too.

“You ask too many questions. Leave me alone.”

“But—”

“Get out.”

Angry at everyone around him, but especially himself, Dominus slammed the door behind Everard. It bounced back, though Everard
stayed gone. He wanted out of this room.
Now
.

The church bell rang, signaling prayers before dinner. The midday meal consisted of fish and beans and a variety of vegetables. Good, plain food. A break in the monotony of his day.

He peered out his narrow window, seeing blue sky peeking around the gray. “I am out of here.”

He'd practiced and knew just what boards to avoid, enabling
him to slink soundlessly down the hall and out the side door through the kitchen. Brother Walker was in the church, Commander Bartholomew leading the men from his prayer book. He kept the thing with him at all times, in the event a man's soul required immediate sustenance.

Dominus did not mind the drizzle in the least, though he wore his thick cloak and hood to keep his identity secret. He'd borrowed a set of black clothing so he could walk about invisible as a servant.

He went up and over the wall, then ducked behind a bush to avoid the vigilant guard. He had to find the Patriarch. Do the bishop's bidding and get the caravan moving toward Jerusalem.

The last person he wanted to see was Mamie. He'd affirmed his decision to go back to Byronne and care for his family—which meant that dreams of Mamie needed to stay dreams.

He crept down the hill and was at the road when he heard the sound of a man and woman walking toward him. He jumped backward into the bushes, narrowly missing Mamie walking with Patriarch Aimery.

Rubbing his eyes, he wondered if his angst had somehow
conjured them together. But no. The highest priest in all of Antioch
did not look pleased to be outdoors in the mist. Mamie scanned the trail on either side, finding his hiding place behind a barrel of rose blossoms.

She kept going, but he knew she saw him. Suddenly, she stopped as if she'd tripped over something in the path. Instead, she met his gaze behind the hot pink blooms and pointed toward the bathhouse. Meet at their spot beneath the olive trees?

What was she up to? He went back over every last thing he had ever told her. Was there anything that could be used against the bishop? Or the king? He prayed he had not been a fool to trust her.

He made his way to the olive trees, careful to avoid anyone else seeing him.

She returned in less than an hour, going by the prayer bells. His stomach rumbled as he thought of the vegetable stew he missed.

When she pushed back the leaves, his heart plummeted, spiraling out of control. Was this the awful feeling people wrote sonnets about? Love?

It made him nauseated.

He reached her in two strides, pulling her into his embrace. No words necessary, he crushed her mouth to his.

“I have missed you,” she said against his lips.

“And I you.” He kissed her hard. “I thought you were angry at me.”

“I am.” Her eyes welled. “Nothing has changed.”

He kept hold of her hand. “Commander Bartholomew was passed over for Master Templar in Jerusalem. He thinks it was because he was born a peasant. It might explain his anger and why he has issues with humility.”

Mamie's eyes widened. She tried to release his hand. “That does not explain the army. I saw them practicing with Bartholomew
and Jocelyn.”

“The commander's anger allowed Raymond, who is cunning enough to go after what he wants, to sway him into training
soldiers on a death mission for God.” He pulled her forward, wanting her close.

She yanked back, obviously unaffected. “Raymond has Bartholomew, as well as Jocelyn, in his palm.” Mamie exhaled. “And Eleanor now too.” She bowed her head. “He is an awful man. Why, Dominus?”