Candace C. Bowen - A Knight Series 01 Page 15

  “There is no doubt that her ladyship’s ability will be an asset to the crown during these troubling times with France. Emissaries from Louis will be arriving in the spring. We shall have need of her,” he replied absently.

  Fulke’s heart plummeted. Henry intended for them to remain at court through the coming winter and beyond. He found only one small glimmer of hope. “I fear my lady does not understand French, Sire.”

  With Henry’s next words, the glimmer burned out.

  “I am the first English speaking king since before my father, am I not? I shall command that Louis’ emissaries speak English whilst visiting my court.” He sought to reassure him. “Be at ease, Fulke. I will have the lady moved to a larger chamber on the morrow. She will be granted access to all the court holds. What woman on our fair isle would not dream of such?”

  In such a position, Fulke knew Reina would be nothing more than an object of scorn.

  Shrewdly discerning his thoughts, Henry lifted a brow. “Since when have you cared what others think of you, Fulke?”

  “It is not for me that I am concerned. My lady’s upbringing was understandably sheltered. She is innocent of courtly ways.”

  “In that case, I grant you favor. My backing will assure her acceptance, despite her infirmity. As to her innocence, she is married to you, is she not? With your rumored exploits in the bedchamber, I vow her innocence to be a thing long past.”

  “Will you protect her from the slander that is sure to be spoken about her?” Fulke ventured softly.

  “Would you have me bother with court gossip?” Henry shot back. “I have the fate of the realm in my hands.”

  He remained silent, as Henry sighed. “It is not my wish to quarrel with you on this matter, Fulke. I have assured you that no harm shall come to her ladyship. I cannot see you having an aversion to sharing your woman, yet she naturally has strong feelings for you. I have given her my word that nothing is required of her outside the hall. This should be satisfactory to you.”

  “It shall be as you command, Sire,” he conceded.

  “I do not understand you,” Henry raged. “When last we met, I fancied you cross for denying your request to enter the Knights Templar. In so refusing your rash appeal, I have acted justly on your behalf. Now in lieu of homage, I am forced to endure your annoyance over a mere woman.”

  “It is not my intent to insult you, Sire.” Despising himself for it, he added, “I fear my lady’s diminished capacity compels me to be overprotective where she is concerned.”

  Pacified, Henry relaxed. “It is a fault you have had since first we met. You have always boasted a softness towards the weak. It would do you well to overcome this flaw.”

  “My knights have each proven themselves in battle,” he said defensively.

  “Perhaps that is the case where your men are concerned. Yet, I have stood witness to beautiful women of great wealth fawning over you.” He leaned forward in his seat. “Tell me, what could explain your reasoning behind taking a deaf woman to wife?”

  “Her father banished her to a convent,” Fulke replied reluctantly.

  “You are nothing if not predictable,” Henry chuckled.

  “I tend to believe it is my one admirable trait.”

  “I would venture to say it is your one failing,” he shot back.

  “In that, I must beg to differ with you, Sire.”

  Leaning back in his chair, Henry shrugged. “I would say your boldness in the face of your king is your one admirable trait.”

  “Thank you, Sire,” Fulke dipped his head.

  “Truth be told, you have been missed at court of late. Without your presence to rouse things, the ladies have had to remain in the beds of their husbands.”

  Ashamed Reina would discover his past transgressions, Fulke attempted to change the subject. “If I am to be away from Rochester for so long, completion of the tower could be delayed by months, Sire.”

  Henry looked surprised. “You will not be away from Rochester. In fact, you are to return at lauds. Archbishop Corbeil will be arriving soon to convene with the master builder. You are to attend him when he arrives.” He let out an exaggerated sigh. “You know how I am forced to appease the whims of the church. I fear my brother William’s delay in appointing an archbishop after Lanfranc's death, still costs me.”

  As Henry rambled on, Fulke sat in stunned disbelief. Imagining Reina at the mercy of the court, he managed, “How long do you wish for me to remain in Rochester?”

  “Until I summon you, of course,” Henry replied impatiently. “I am only asking for a brief separation whilst her ladyship performs a valuable service for the realm. You do realize of course, if you oppose me in this matter, I could have your marriage annulled?”

  Fulke’s heart began to pound. “There are no grounds for an annulment, Sire. A priest performed the ceremony in front of several witnesses.”

  Henry moved forward in his seat. “Did any of these so called witnesses hear the lady speak her vows?” He scoffed, “Come now, Fulke. You cannot honestly believe I can allow you to remain after your behavior in the hall?” He relented a bit. “The younger knight is far too bold for my liking. Still, if it will ease your mind, he may remain with Albin.”

  Nodding weakly, Fulke played his last hand. “Sire has commanded that I beget heirs. May I ask how that will be possible if I am to be separated from my wife for so long a time?”

  Henry waved a hand in dismissal. “Your unexpected visit has proven to be a nuisance to me. Still, I am not one to deny a man his marital due. You may have what remains of this eve with her. Depart no later than lauds, I would not have the archbishop kept waiting.”

  “Thank you, Sire.” He stood, anxious to leave.

  Henry’s eyes narrowed. “Before you go, I find myself forced to clarify a point.”

  “Sire?”

  “Regardless of the past, if you defy me in this matter, I shall have your head on the charge of treason. I will not allow your failing to jeopardize the advantage afforded me over Louis.”

  “Have I ever given you grounds to doubt my loyalty?” Fulke asked in disbelief.

  “You have not. Yet, I have never before known you to show such weakness towards a woman. I find myself believing her shortcoming has brought it out in you.

  “I shall not fail you, Sire.”

  Stepping into the passage, he cornered the first footman he could find. “Direct me to Baroness Erlegh’s chamber.”

  * * * *

  Her arms wrapped around her drawn up knees, Reina sat on the cushioned bench in the window niche. Staring absently at the small flickering lights on the river below, she sighed. With torches held aloft, boats transporting the last of the season’s crops headed for the city markets. Even given the late hour, the city was bustling with activity.

  So attuned to him, Reina sensed Fulke’s presence as soon as he opened the door. She stood to face him as he turned to close it.

  Her breathing spiked as she drank in every visible detail of him as he fumbled with the latch. His hair had grown longer, curling slightly as it touched his shoulders. She swallowed against the desire to run her hands through the silken strands.

  Turning to face her, he paused, hesitant to approach, the flickering fire making his eyes shimmer in the chamber’s dim light. “Please tell me you forgive me, Reina.”

  In answer, she briefly bowed her head, tears of relief springing to her eyes. Returning her gaze to his beloved face, she untied the corded sash from around her waist. Parting the gown, she let it slip from her shoulders to pool around her bare feet. “I have missed you so very much, my lord.”

  Fulke crossed the chamber in two long strides. Sweeping her into his arms, he embraced her. For the length of a heartbeat, he held her against his chest before leaning back to capture her lips. Lifting her to the bed, he followed her down without breaking the kiss.

  They made love for what remained of the night. Gazing into each other’s eyes, no words were spoken between them, for fear it w
ould break the spell that bound them.

  As the sky began to lighten, Fulke glanced away from the window with a heavy heart. Staring down at her lying beside him, he caressed his fingertips over her kiss-swollen lips. “I do not know when the king will summon me again, Reina.”

  Tears leaked from her eyes as she gazed up at him. “I will hold you in my heart until we are together again, my lord.”

  Fulke searched her eyes. “Will you tell me something?”

  “I will tell you anything,” running her fingertips down the length of his jaw.

  “Why did you forgive me?”

  Sitting up, she frowned at the anguish clouding his eyes. “You are my life Fulke, I love you. Nothing will ever change that.”

  “I want you to promise me something.”

  She cupped his face. “Anything.”

  “If you see a courtier say something unpleasant, pledge to me that you will avert your eyes,” he replied hoarsely.

  “There are no words anyone can say that will harm me, so long as you know the truth.”

  “I would have your pledge,” he whispered.

  “You have it, my love.” She hesitated.

  “What is it, Reina?”

  “Why did you take me to wife, Fulke?”

  Lowering his head, he glanced away.

  Capturing his jaw, she waited for him to look at her. “I know you were commanded to take a wife. What I would like to know is why you chose me.”

  “I have no regrets taking you to wife, Reina.”

  Seeing a look of anguish cross his face, she squeezed his hand. “Think no more of it, my love.”

  “I will find a way for us to return to Castell Maen, I vow it.”

  Smoothing the lines on his brow, she smiled. “I did not think otherwise.”

  Bending to capture her lips, he said, “I shall miss you.”

  As the Sun broke the horizon, Fulke could delay his departure no longer. Strapping on his sword, she presented him with a small leather pouch. “I have a gift for you, my lord.”

  “You are a gift to me, Reina.” Drawing her into his arms, he caressed her cheek.

  Taking the pouch, he untied the leather thong. Reaching in, he withdrew a ring. Staring at the gold hammered band, he asked, “When did you have this made Reina?”

  “The village forger fashioned it for me from a pair of my mother’s hairclips. Do not you like it, Fulke?”

  “When?” he pressed.

  “Shortly after you left for Rochester.” She searched his troubled gaze, wondering why the gift bothered him so much.

  Clenching his eyes shut, he lowered his head.

  Alarmed by his reaction, she cupped his chin, putting pressure on it, until he looked at her. “If you do not like it,” she began.

  “I do not deserve you Reina,” he cut in.

  Tears sparkled in her eyes as she gazed at the pain in his. “You are so very wrong, my lord.”

  Sliding the ring on his finger, he pulled her to him. “I shall never take it off.”

  Reluctantly pulling away, he held her against his heart for a moment, breathing into her hair. Stepping back he cupped her cheeks. “Talan and Albin shall remain close, should you have need of them.”

  She nodded, tears falling freely down her cheeks.

  “Remember your pledge,” he said brokenly. Kissing her one last time, he left.

  * * * *

  The remainder of the day started what would become a painful routine for Reina.

  Each morning, she sat by Henry’s side while he held court. Her eyes would scan the clustered groups of nobles, following their conversations. If they crudely made mention of her relationship with the king, she would avert her eyes.

  Each afternoon was set aside for recreation. On clear days, the king would host royal hunts or inside picnics for the nobles. Once the royal chambers were cleared, he would send for her.

  Sitting nervously before him, she would report through Talan anything of interest she had learned. Geoffrey of Anjou did indeed have higher aspirations, yet for the moment was content to marry Henry’s heir.

  Reina refrained from telling him the foul language Geoffrey used with his entourage. With the king imposing fines on those who swore, his coffers would overflow with Geoffrey’s silver alone. He would often besmirch Matilda, eleven years his senior as his entourage of sycophants expressed delight.

  The evenings were unbearable. Forced to observe the shallow existence the nobles enjoyed, made her yearn for Fulke.

  On occasion, she would inadvertently give herself away with a blush or intake of breath when something truly shocked or disturbed her. During these times, the king would settle a disapproving frown on her, causing her heart to race in fear.

  One evening Baron Reynold approached the dais. Instead of following her inclination to ignore the man responsible for antagonizing Fulke, curiosity had her watching him greet the king.

  Dressed in a red bliaut, white linen chainse, yellow striped hose and brown leather boots, he doffed his red cap. Raking his gaze down the length of Reina, he leered, “Sire, your current favorite is quite exquisite.”

  “Knowing who she is married to Reynold, I find it remarkable that you would say such a thing,” the king replied, already bored with the conversation.

  “Even so Sire, I find it my own misfortune that I did not marry a beautiful mute myself. I would not now be saddled with the shrieking harridan I am bound to.”

  “Perchance if you stayed out of the bedchambers of other women, your lady would have nothing to shriek about,” the king rudely replied.

  “I am content that Arabella provided me with three sons before allowing her to join me. Were she to bear a babe now, I would denounce it for the bastard it most certainly would be.”

  At Reina’s soft intake of breath, Reynold shifted his gaze to her. Catching herself, she feigned a yawn behind her hand. After a moment, she glanced at him, her eyes narrowing at his words.

  “Perhaps when you become bored with her Sire, I might sample her charms?”

  “You go too far, Reynold,” the king replied harshly.

  Paling, he bowed. “Sire.” With a last leer at Reina, he returned to his seat.

  It took every ounce of control Reina had to keep from retching. Risking a glance at the king, he gave her a slight nod.

  TWELVE

  Once again, Reina found herself pampered. Unused to such indulgence, she soon came to despise it. Not permitted to garb herself in the same thing more than once, she now possessed enough costly raiment to clothe every woman in her village.

  Only Talan and Albin’s presence reminded her of another life beyond her empty existence.

  Most evenings, Henry would keep her by his side until the hour grew late. Only after Geoffrey retired would he release her with a slight nod.

  Regardless of the time, she would find Talan waiting for her.

  It did not escape her notice the attention he received from many of the eligible court ladies. Feeling guilty for monopolizing so much of his time, she decided to do something about it. It was past time for Talan to realize there was more to life than duty.

  Opening her door one morning, she stepped back. “Would you please come in a moment, Talan?”

  “Is there aught amiss, my lady?”

  “All is well, please take a seat.” Perching on the chair beside him, she said, “I am releasing you from your evening duties.”

  Jumping to his feet, he asked, “What is it you think I have done, my lady?”

  Alarmed he had come to such a conclusion, she hastened to reassure him. “You have done nothing wrong, Talan. I simply want you to have some semblance of a normal life whilst we are here.”

  “You will not go without escort,” he stubbornly refused.

  She sighed. “Talan, the entire court believes I am the king’s favorite. I assure you, I am able to return to my chamber without harm befalling me." Staring down at her, he remained steadfast. “It has not escaped my notice that several eligibl
e ladies have attempted to gain your attention.” He did not even twitch. “I will not be the cause of your unhappiness, Talan,” she finished anxiously.

  “I am not unhappy,” he replied softly. “There is no place I would rather be.”

  “Surely there must be one lady that has caught your interest,” she ventured.

  He thought for a moment. “I shall make a wager with you, my lady.”

  “Name it.” She smiled.

  “I shall acquaint myself with any lady you deem fitting.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “And if I cannot find one?”

  “Then you will allow my escort and refrain from any future matchmaking.”

  “Am I that obvious, Talan?” She deflated.

  Extending his arm, he smiled. “You are as transparent as water, my lady.”

  * * * *

  Reina finally had something to keep her thoughts from dwelling on Fulke. She had a mission. Without a tinge of guilt for shirking her duty, she sat beside the king focusing on the women she believed would be a suitable match for Talan.

  Hastily rejecting one after another, she caught sight of a young fair-haired woman standing demurely beside another with dark hair. A pair of elder courtiers conversed briefly with the pair before moving off. Picturing the demure woman beside Talan, nearly brought a forbidden smile to Reina’s face.

  She was so sure she had succeeded in her quest that her eyes flared when the woman confided, “he took me roughly from behind for what seemed like forever. I vow Baron Rey-“

  With a sharp intake of breath, Reina averted her eyes. Sneaking a peek to see if the king noticed her slip, she relaxed to find his attention directed elsewhere.

  Refusing to search further, she conceded defeat with a sad sigh. There was not one woman in all of King Henry’s court worthy of the noble Talan.

  He met a dejected Reina at the end of a long evening. Presenting his arm to her, he grinned. “I take it you are to be stuck with me, my lady?”

  “You knew what they were all like, did you not?”

  He nodded. “Aye, I did my lady. This is not my first time to court. Gervase and Guy relish their time here. I do not.”