The Black Lyon (29 page)

. nay, I will spread no court gossip. I will think on this novel idea. Now I grow hungry. Can we not find that ugly animal you ride and return home?"

"Loriage is beautiful! You are but jealous that he is docile for me and no other."

"Your words ring true. I hate all men near you, be they horse or even bird. Why could you not be as other females and ride a dappled mare?"

"If I were as other women you would not have me. I am the only woman who neither fears you nor dotes on you. You have been overly spoiled in your life. I wonder what your mother could have been like to rear such as you."

"M y mother was a lady, quiet and gentle, not unlike your own mother. I saw Lady M elite shudder more than once at your wayward behavior."

"I was never wayward!" she declared as he helped her into Loriage's saddle. "It was your fawning over me. I could not help teasing a man who looked at me with such great, liquid eyes."

" 'Twere I not exceedingly hungry, I would make you regret those words." His arm flashed out and encircled her, pulling her onto Tighe's back in front of him. "I think I may yet. Now try to play the lady for a few moments."

"Being a lady does not get me such rewards as being mauled by a handsome knight." She wiggled her behind against him.

"You are the mauler, I am .. ."

"Spare me. You are ever kind and sweet-tempered, I have heard before. Tell me how you came by the name of the Spawn of the Devil, then?"

He ran his teeth along her neck and the beginning of her shoulder, causing chills along her spine. "It was not from being led about by an insolent bit of a girl." His arms tightened about her. "I have always been content wherever I was, but now I find I cannot bear to be far away from you. You are like food or drink to me, a thing I must have to live. You do not know how your anger made me feel. You will send no more ugly messages through my boy?"

"Aye, I think I will, for it has brought you to me as no sweetly written words could have."

"You have no respect for the duties of your husband."

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She lifted his hand from her waist and kissed it. "A husband has other duties besides war."

They rode together to the towering, gray walls of M alvoisin, content and happy at being together again. As hot water was brought to their chamber, the sky outside darkened and it began to rain. A small fire was lit against the chill.

Lyonene bathed Ranulf, with both of them laughing and enjoying their loveplay. Only one moment marred Lyonene's happiness.

"What has become of our Prankish guest? Do not tell me you gave rein to your anger and slipped a dagger into her? Although I vow there were times when I wished someone had."

"And what times do you speak of? You know her but a few days. She could not have made her character so well known to you in so short a time."

Ranulf looked away from his wife's intense stare. "I have come to know of the woman, but let us not waste our few hours with talk of her. For whatever reason, I am glad she is not here."

Lyonene did not wish to pursue the subject further either, for Ranulf's manner showed he concealed something, and in this pleasant moment she did not wish to break the spell with talk of what had destroyed her peace for the month past.

"When must you return to your men and your siege?"

Ranulf stepped from the tub, nude, wet, his skin glowing in the golden firelight. He pulled her to him, the water from him wetting her clothes to the skin. He kissed her and she moved closer to him. "You are a grand substitute for a towel," he murmured.

"I leave on the morrow. Ssh," he said, putting a finger to her lips. "Do not protest and make the leaving more difficult for me. I am not a man to leave my men to fight my causes alone. We have this night together and it is a long while till morn. Let us make the best use of our time. And do remove those wet clothes! You drip on my floor."

She grinned at him and began to peel the wet clothes from her body. They made love slowly, lingeringly, not hurrying as before, but exploring and searching one another's body.

Lyonene was exhausted from the tension of the past month, and the release from worry, from her concern for Ranulf s wandering affections, gave her a blissful, peaceful sleep. When Ranulf began to move from her, she clutched at him in her sleep. He sighed with pleasure and held her to him.

"Can you know how much I love you, little Lioness?" he whispered to her sleeping form. "Can you know the longing I feel when I am away from you?" He kissed her forehead and slept, his arms tightly holding his wife to him.

* * *

Lyonene awoke first and opened her eyes to gaze on Ranulf's sleeping face. The sooty lashes were almost like a girl's, his lips soft and sweet. She moved a bit and kissed the thin scar along his cheek and he woke. He smiled into her eyes, one hand tenderly brushing a fat strand of hair from her face.

"I am happy to see you again," she said quietly. "I began to doubt you remembered me."

"I did forget at times, but a few things were there to remind me of you."

"And what were they, my lord?"

"The sun, the moon, wind, grass, small things only."

She laughed and moved nearer to him. "I would that you did not return to your battle. I am afraid somehow."

"There is no danger, but fear of a drunk hurling a wooden cask at my head."

"Nay. I do not jest, and it is not the battle I fear, but else."

"You should fear the wrath of the Black Lion do you but talk his time away. Can you find no better way to send your knight into battle?"

She turned in his arms and for a while her fears were forgotten, but later they haunted her again as she watched Hodder help his master dress in his heavy chain mail.

"Do not look at me as if 'twere the last time. Go and tell Dawkin to prepare some food to carry back with me."

While she was gone, Ranulf s eye caught a faint glow of something in a dark comer. He bent to retrieve it and saw it was the ribbon Lyonene had sewn to resemble her beloved belt. He frowned at it, not understanding how it could have gotten there, for he had last seen it in his own tent, far away at Gethen Castle. There was something 199

that worried her and she refused to tell him its nature, but he knew the ribbon was connected with her troubles. He sighed and slipped the ribbon into the pouch at his waist. When she trusted him, she would confide her fears to him. Until then he must wait, for he guessed that anything less than torture would not force her to answer his questions.

Lyonene did not cry when he rode away, his guard following, but stood silently in the courtyard. She had a heavy feeling in her breast, as if a weight pressed upon it. She sat alone in the garden for a time, trying to rid herself of the ugly feeling but could not.

A week passed quietly and Lyonene almost forgot her fears. But noise below stairs one day set her heart racing. The solar door burst open and Kate pushed through.

"M y Lady Lyonene, forgive me, but she has caused a great ruckus. She says she must see you at once."

"Send her in." Neither Lyonene nor her maid felt they needed to explain exactly who "she" was.

Amicia came into the room slowly, looking about regally, as if appraising the beautiful proportions, the tapestries, the ornaments. She was, if possible, even thinner than before.

"It is as I remembered."

"No greeting, Amicia?"

Amicia smiled. "It is Lady Amicia, I think you recall. Nay, no greeting. The Countess of M alvoisin need give no greeting to barons' daughters."

"You have me guessing at your riddle, for I am both countess and the daughter of a baron."

"Such daughter you will always be, but I am not sure you hold your title as well."

Lyonene felt her anger rising. "Do not hide your meaning, but speak your words clearly. You have something to say to me, so get it done and be gone."

"Lady Lyonene, you betray your fear of me. I have news to give to you and would that we could have a peace between us."

"There can be no peace between us. What news do you bring?" Lyonene's face lost color. "Ranulf! Has aught happened to my husband?" ,

"Nay." Amicia ran her hand across the mantel. "He is well, most well and vigorous when I saw him last. Your concern shows on your face. Do you love him well then?"

"What I feel for my husband is my own concern. If you have naught else to say, then leave me."

"Nay, my lady, I have much to say. The love you bear your husband concerns me greatly, for it is a love we share."

"I will not begin this afresh. I believed your lies once, but now I do not. Go from my sight." Lyonene rose in anger.

"You will hear me, for your life may depend upon it." Amicia's voice was deadly. "Aye. Your very life may center upon my words."

Lyonene sat down again, unconvinced, but feeling the woman capable of anything. "Have your say quickly and be gone."

"Lord Ranulf has shown himself to be a fickle man, I believe, when it comes to women. Look at how he betrothed himself to you after but one day's meeting with you. I have given you warnings which you heeded not and now you must pay for your disbelief, and most of all for your treatment of me." Her pale eyes glinted like a snake's. "As Ranulf de Warbrooke chose you in haste, so he will discard you in like haste."

"I believe not a word of your sayings. M y husband has but left me not a week past. His behavior did not point to his tiring of me."

"You see, I know Ranulf as you do not. I know he needs women, many women, and I am willing to accept such behavior. Are you, Lady Lyonene?"

She could only stare at the woman, hating her, yet listening in spite of all reason, which told her that the words were false. "I accept my husband as he is, as I must."

"Well spoken by a loving wife. Will you feel the same when this husband sets another in this fine hall, puts another by his side at table? What say you when another child is favored over yours?" She near whispered this last sentence.

"What is your meaning of another child? Ranulf has no other children but the one I carry."

"He will soon, my innocent lady, for I carry one now that is as much his as the one you give shelter."

"Nayl I do not believe you! It is another man's bas-

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tard—if indeed you do hold a child in that fleshless belly —and you try to convince me it is my husband's."

"I have given you warning and I have shown you proof of your husband's love for me. Shall I show you the letters again, for I know you have seen them? Shall I describe the intimate moment of passion when he gave me the ribbon with the lions that you took from me? Nay, I see you know my words to be true."

Lyonene tried to still her racing heart, calm her emotions and think rationally. When she spoke, it was quietly and deliberately.

"M any women must look aside when their husband's bastards are born. I am no less strong than they."

"Ah, a most sensible way, but I think you forget King Edward."

"And what has the king to do with such an ugly matter as you have placed before me?"

"M uch, I fear." Amicia watched Lyonene, studying her reactions to the words. "As has been mentioned, you are but a baron's daughter, while I am heir to the Duke of Vemet's properties and fortune. King Edward would like much to have England associated with such lands. Has he not expressed his doubts as to his earl marrying so low-born a woman?"

Lyonene could not answer, but her mind filled with memories.

"Do you know the story of Gilbert de Clare, the Earl of Gloucester? He has obtained his divortium and will soon marry the Princess Joanna. What think you King Edward will say when he finds the Duke of Vemet's daughter carries the child of the Earl of M alvoisin? Think you he will laugh and pat Lord Ranulf's shoulder? Or will he think of the war such a great insult to France might bring?"

Lyonene could not reply.

"What will you do then?" the high voice continued. "Will you sit calmly by as the Pope dissolves your marriage? And what of your child? Your child whom you thought to inherit will be cast aside and mine will become the Earl of M alvoisin. Will you remain here and share Lord Ranulf's bed as his mistress? He seems to enjoy you well. I am sure he will continue to do so, even when you are not tied to one another with a marriage document. M ayhaps you will return to your parents. Will they not be proud of their daughter? M arried once to the renowned Black Lion, his son in tow. You will be a prize, and your father will have little difficulty in finding you another husband. What say you to sharing a bed with another man? M ayhaps he will not be so strong as Lord Ranulf or so handsome, but he will have the hammers and iron to forge new babes."

"Cease!" Lyonene put her hands over her ears. "Leave me! I can bear your presence no longer."

"It is not my presence that troubles you, but the truth you hear in my words. I will go, but you are far from rid of me."

Alone again, Lyonene sat, stunned, unable to make a coherent thought. Kate came and went, her questions unheard, unanswered.

The woman's words did indeed have the ring of truth. She seemed to remember every word spoken at court, every hint at her unsuitable marriage to an earl.

What of Ranulf? He seemed to sneer at convention, but he loved his king, and his honor was a matter of great importance to him.

What if he were pressured by his king? She knew the answer, knew Ranulf could not disobey his king. Had he not once mentioned Simon de M ontfort with hate, saying how the man had risen against his king, tried to overthrow King Edward's father? Nay, Ranulf was an honorable man and would do what his conscience dictated.

She tried to sew again, but could not. What of Amicia's crude statement? The idea of another man touching her brought a shudder of revulsion. Yet could she stay and become his mistress, see Amicia in his bed?

Nay! she thought, she could not.