Wicked (25 page)

“I’ll walk with you,” he told her.

Together they followed Merrick and the twins down the candlelit hallway to the room where the Queen of England was waiting.

Chapter 20

Sofia did not know what to expect when she entered the solar after Merrick and Clio took the twins away. She knew Tobin had sent men ahead with news that she was found safe, and with some of the news of what had happened on the road. However, she did not know exactly how much anyone knew.

The Queen stood near a mullioned window, her back to the door and her pale hand resting on the back of a deep scarlet tufted chair with a tapestry covered footstool sitting in front of it. The Poleaxes were sitting on her left, at a nearby tapestry frame, stitching and speaking quietly with their heads pressed together; they looked like a two-headed monster from the Greek myths.

Eleanor turned, then, and looked at Sofia.

There was nothing but a long, drawn out silence. She then shifted her gaze over Sofie’s shoulder. “Sir Tobin,” she said quietly.

The Poleaxes whipped their heads around and stared at Sofia, the expressions on their faces telling exactly what they thought; they looked at her as if she was a martyr involved in a lost cause.

“You have brought Sofia back safely, Tobin,” Eleanor continued. “I thank you.”

He gave her a slight bow. “My pleasure.”

Sofia knew she was not his pleasure, but his problem.

“I would like to speak to Sofia alone.”

Tobin placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze, then bowed and left.

The Queen turned to her ladies and said, “Leave us.”

The Poleaxes stood, gathered their skirts and marched toward the door, where Sofia stood.

They were whispering as they came toward her.

“We should have bled her,” Jehane was saying in a harsh whisper. “Then she would not have had the strength to run off like she did.”

“Aye, ’tis true, Jehane.” Mavis walked past Sofia, muttering, “We have learnt a great lesson. We shall not give in to her whims again.”

An instant later the door to the solar closed with a sharp click.

Eleanor just stood there, her eyes on Sofia.

There was a long pause of silence.

The Queen shook her head. “You foolish, foolish girl.” Her voice was raspy and emotional, then she opened her arms.

Sofia ran into them and buried her head in Eleanor’s soft neck, where there was that old familiar scent of cinnamon and anise, of safety and of home. “I am sorry,” she whispered. “I am so very sorry.”

Eleanor patted her back. “I would say that you are sorry, child. If what I have been told happened to your companions is true.”

“It was horrible, so horrible,” Sofia admitted for the Queen’s ears alone.

Eleanor waited for a moment, then took a deep breath. Sofia could feel the small shudder of emotion. After a moment, she gripped Sofia’s shoulders and took a step away from her. “There. Let me look at you.” She stared at Sofia’s head for the longest time, then frowned. “Good God . . . That hair is horrid!”

Sofia did not know if she wanted to laugh or cry. All she knew was that she was so very glad to see her Eleanor.

“Turn around, child.”

Sofia chewed her lower lip and turned slowly.

The Queen stood there not saying anything, just studying her for what seemed like forever. “I shall pray that your hair will grow quickly.”

“Aye,” she said quietly.

“Wherever did you get those clothes?”

“From the rag picker’s cart.”

“It looks like it,” the Queen said. “I have some garments you can change into before you see Edward.”

Sofia groaned and sagged so that it felt as if she almost folded in half.

“You have gone and truly done it this time, Sofia. Edward is furious. I do not believe I can plead for you. He will listen to me any longer. If I were him that I would not listen to me.”

Sofia stared at the toes of her leather boots, feeling sorry and guilty. She had not wanted to let Eleanor down, but the Queen could not understand what it was truly like for her. Eleanor was the Queen of England, and as such men would always defer to her, if for no other reason than Edward demanded it. Sofia was not a queen. Sofia was a pawn.

“Truthfully,” Eleanor continued. “This latest deed was such folly that I do not know if you deserve my support. You have damaged my faith and my trust in you. I will not even start on how Edward feels and believe me I know, for he has ranted into my ear every single night since you disappeared.”

Sofia winced at that comment.

“I have always believed that you are spirited. Spirit is a not a bad thing for a woman to have, Sofia. But until you did this, I never thought you were an idiot.”

It hurt Sofia to hear that. It hurt her badly. She did make a mistake. She looked at Eleanor, whom she respected. “I have made some wrong choices.”

“Perhaps you should ask yourself why.” Eleanor watched her closely.

Why? Perhaps she did not want to know why she did what she did. Silent tears flowed over the rims of her eyes and her vision was blurred. Eleanor’s face became nothing but a pale oval in a sea of tears, tears she did not want to shed but could not help it.

Eleanor closed the short distance between them, then cupped Sofia’s face on her hands and placed a soft and motherly kiss on Sofia’s brow. She swiped back the short fringes of hair and sighed. “I do love you, child.”

Then she moved to the door and opened it. “You may come inside, now,” she said.

Sofia turned around.

In marched the Poleaxes with a train of servants carrying food and water and a tub. She had the sudden and horrid sense that she was reliving another day all over again. She closed her burning eyes and groaned.

The Queen left and the Poleaxes took over. As her clothing was jerked off her, as she was twisted and turned, poked and prodded, and her skin almost scrubbed off, she knew that between the Queen’s women and her audience with the King, the very worst was yet to come.

 “Damn Edward!”
Merrick slammed closed the door to his bedchamber and stalked into the room.

Clio looked up from where she was combing her hair dry by the fire. Ah, she thought. Here he is . . . the Earl of Curses. She watched her husband walk across the room and stand near the window in the tower that faced east, opposite of where the sun was setting. Its glow came through another window, where it spilled through the opening and turned the walls and floor the color of wild heather.

She set down the comb and rose, then crossed to where he stood, tall and stiff and angrier than she had seen him in a long time. She slid her arms around his broad chest and rested her hands on his ribs, her cheek against his back. “What is it?”

He inhaled and then placed his big hands over hers. “The King has sent de Clare on another of his wild missions to the north. I swear I would think he does not want Sofia and Tobin settled.”

“Well, that cannot be. I would think the King would deliver Sofia into the hands of the first good man willing to take her, antics and all. And as for Tobin, even now he still clings to that pride of his. He is not an easy young man to twist to one’s way of thinking. Although I suppose after time, he did listen to you.”

“He was afraid of me.”

“Aye, he was. But for Sofia, the fact remains that he is one of the few young men who will not let her walk all over him. It seems to me that they are the perfect couple.” She smiled and added quietly, “They fight like you and I did.”

Merrick gave one sharp laugh. “As much as that?”

She pinched his skin.

“Ouch! Stop pinching me, woman. You and Sofia are not so much alike. Besides, Sofia is not cooking up ale that makes men lose their wits.”

“Nay. I believe Sofia cooks up other schemes. But still they will keep Tobin busy.”

“Not if Edward keeps sending him off to the wilds on some fool’s mission. Tobin was ready to wed her soon. She is certainly old enough. He was firmly ready to take his vows. We spoke of it just this morn. Then he goes to speak to Edward and the next thing you know he is riding off to the north borders again.”

“What is Edward going to do about Sofia?”

“He is speaking with her now. I do not know what he will do, but rest assured he has some plan in mind, otherwise de Clare would still be here.” Merrick frowned as he stared outside for a few more moments, then he turned around and linked his arms around Clio. “So tell me, woman, what you did the rest of this day. Lie around and munch on sweets?”

“Aye. I had nothing better to do,” she said lightly. “What with a new babe, another barely two and the eldest into every nook of this castle. Maude and Tildie were so amused by the children, Merrick. It was such a joy to watch.”

“What do think of those little girls?”

“They are delightful and very bright. They spent the afternoon teaching Edward how to turn a somersault. Even Roger was trying, but he could not seem to get his bottom over his head. You would never know what those sweet little girls have just been through to see them with our sons. ’Tis a terrible thing that happened.”

“Aye.”

“I am always amazed at the resiliency of children. Thud and Thwack were like that. They were wonderful from the first moment I took them in.”

“So you told me before,” Merrick’s voice trailed off as if he had more to say.

“What is it?”

“I was thinking today.”

“There is more troubling you. What is it?”

“I thought perhaps we should keep Maude and Tildie here. They have no family left. No place to live. It looks as if Tobin and Sofia will not be together anytime soon. We would be the perfect choice to take care of them.”

Clio stepped back and gaped up at him. “Truly? You would like Maude and Tildie to live here? With us?”

“Aye. ’Twould keep you from nagging at me about being the lone woman in a castle of men. I told de Clare we would take them. If you gave your consent.”

“My consent! Oh, Merrick! You know how badly I have wanted a little girl. Now we shall have two!” She raised up and kissed him, but missed his mouth and hit his scratchy chin instead. “You need to shave, love.”

“Aye. But we could still have daughters, Clio. I do not believe Old Gladdys and her dire predictions. She is a crazed old bat.”

“I do not care if she was wrong when she told me I would never give birth to a daughter. I do not care if all our future children are girls. I would still want to make a home for Maude and Tildie here.”

He smiled. “I thought you might. We do have one problem.”

“What?”

“The bear. Satan. What in God’s name are we going to do with that bear?”

Clio stood there and thought about it for a moment, then she grinned. “I shall send a message to Teleri.”

Merrick winced, then he began to laugh. “I swear Roger will challenge me. That charming little wife of his will have him here in less than a week.” He was still laughing under his breath. “Poor Roger. A bear along with all those other animals she keeps.” He shook his head.

Clio shrugged. “It could be worse.”

“How?”

Clio grinned. “We could send the bear to Teleri with her grandmother, Old Gladdys, as an escort.”

Merrick laughed loud and hard. “I do believe that things have been too quiet for Roger of late. I told him at the christening that since he married he has become old and dull. I would love to see his face. A dancing bear and Old Gladdys. That old Druid woman made his life a living hell . . . until he wed her granddaughter.”

Clio exchanged a devious look with her husband. “You tell me, husband. Shall I send the message?”

Merrick was rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Then he looked at her, nodded and grinned. “Aye.”

Then Merrick was laughing along with Clio. A moment later he swung her up into his arms, lifted her to his mouth and kissed her the same way he had so long ago. He crossed the room with her, never breaking that kiss and fell back on their bed, pulling her on top of him and holding her head with his hand so her mouth was where he wanted it.

Kissing Merrick was still the most wonderful thing Clio could ever imagine, just as she had in that stable yard those years ago, even though they had now been wed for close to six years, even though he kissed her every single day. She still felt that thrill, that excitement, that sense of wonder whenever his mouth touched hers. He was still her Earl of Lips.

King Edward was sitting
in a huge, ornately carved chair near a trestle table where there were maps and parchments spread all over the table top. He looked up when Sofia entered the room. His face was unreadable, but his eyes pinned her. She moved forward with a defiant shake of her head. She would not cower before him.

“Sire,” she said as she curtsied. Then she straightened and met his hard gaze.

He was resting his chin in one hand, which was propped on the arm of his chair. His eyes narrowed dangerously and he did not look away. Without saying a word, he turned and rolled up one of the maps, then took his sweet time retying it. He set it aside and did the same to the next map. And the next. Never speaking. Never saying a word to her.

She knew he liked to make tense moments to watch her squirm. The trouble was, it was working. It seemed like a lifetime before he finally stood up, staring down at her from his lanky height.

He locked his hands behind his back and began to pace the room, his long strides eating up the short distance, his eyes staring at the floor.

He turned and looked up. “Sofia.” His voice was quiet and even, as if he were just barely acknowledging her. But to those who knew Edward, like Sofia did, he was his most lethal when his voice was calm.

’Twould have been better for her if he were shouting at her. He moved back to the table, stopped, and looked at her. His hard gaze fixed on her scalp and not her eyes.

She felt the abrupt urge to hide her head from him and she hated that abrupt weakness in her. Her fists tightened at her sides, but she took even, easy breaths.

He turned away and moved to the chair and table, then he sat down and leaned back, resting an elbow on the chair arm as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully and watched her.