BindingPassion (14 page)

Finally her legs began to cramp and she was forced to roll
off him. He held her tight against him and they fell asleep that way, wrapped
in each other’s arms.

A second snowfall, a couple of days later, served as a
reminder that the Christmas holiday approached. Philip found preparations for
it underway everywhere he turned. Small groups practiced mimes or plays or
singing carols in odd and deserted corners of the manor. In the kitchens, the
ovens ran constantly, spreading the savory aromas of spices and baking breads
and pastries. Boys hauled in a never-ending stream of wood to keep the fires
running. Servants paraded in and out, bearing long strings of ivy and sprigs of
holly, while others wove them into garlands, and yet another set hung them in
swags on the walls of the great hall.

Philip had his own preparations to make, and those helped
draw his mind away from the awful memories of the worst night of his life. His
recall of the events following the dinner was vague, but the pain remained
vivid in his mind even yet. Agonizing cramps, spasms of vomiting until his throat
was grated raw, aching muscles, and a headache that threatened to split his
skull wide open—all those he remembered quite clearly.

Although his return to the world of the living was greeted
with relief, welcome, and congratulations by the people of the manor, he
nonetheless moved through the place more warily than before. The falling stone
he’d believed to be an accident, but he could no longer deny that someone
appeared to be trying to kill him.

He couldn’t imagine who would want to do so. His own men were
convinced Lady Mary was behind it, had given the orders, even if she didn’t
carry out the attempts herself. Sir Thomas reminded him that she’d removed some
bit of evidence from the tower the stone had been dislodged from, and she’d
also poured the wine out for him. Who would have had a better opportunity to
add something to it?

Philip refused to believe it. How could it be possible that
Mary would be so delightfully responsive to him, act as though he’d given her
the world, tell him she loved him in words whose sincerity he couldn’t doubt,
when at the same time she plotted to kill him? He promised to be wary, even
around her, but he would not give credence to their doubts. After an extended
argument with Thomas about it, Philip assigned the knight the duty of finding
out who was behind the attempts, or bringing him proof of Mary’s guilt.

Shortly after Sir Thomas departed, Mary came in to discuss
with him the question of Christmas-time gifts to the serfs and villeins. Aside
from the customary feasts they would spread and offerings of sweetmeats and
other foodstuffs, she suggested that they’d had to slaughter more animals than
usual to feed the influx of men, and therefore they had an abundance of
leather. Sufficient, she thought, to provide each person enough for a new pair
of shoes.

Philip agreed to the suggestion and asked when she would
announce it to the people.

“Nay,” she answered. “I’ll not announce it. That is the duty
of the lord of the manor. If you’ll take my advice, my lord, you should present
the gift at the final feast on Twelfth Night.”

“Aye, that seems good,” he agreed.

The sparkle glowing in her green eyes as she anticipated the
holidays delighted him. The kiss she gave him before she left the room set his
body afire and his cock rising to beg for attention. How could he believe this
woman would try to murder him? It wasn’t possible.

The hustle and bustle of preparation continued over the next
few days. Sir Thomas returned to talk to him about what he’d learned two days
later. He started by admitting that he’d achieved neither of the goals Philip
had set him.

“I believed I’ve talked to near everyone who resides on the
manor grounds,” he said, sounding discouraged. “And yet I’m no closer than I
was when I set out. I talked to the servants who served the wine, including the
little girl who brought it to the table that night. I’m afraid the poor child
was scared near to death of me.”

He looked at Philip. “Am I so frightening that a child would
swoon with fear when I approached her?”

Philip studied Sir Thomas. The man would generally be
considered well-favored, save for his expression. “I believe it’s that grim
look you wear always,” Philip answered. “It would put many people off
approaching you. And your size alone might frighten a child.”

The man looked startled. “Am I so grim, then? I realized it
not.”

“You do not smile often,” Philip answered. It hadn’t
occurred to him until then to wonder at that. He’d known Thomas only a few
years, had met him when the man had arrived to serve with Jeoffrey. At the time
Jeoff had been promoted to Earl of Highwaith, and he’d been made Baron
Alderwood, Thomas had elected to come with him rather than remain with
Jeoffrey. Philip hadn’t given it much thought, assuming the man saw more chance
for advancement in a smaller keep. Though they regarded each other with mutual
respect and liking, there had been no close friendship until their arrival here
and Philip found him to be the most intelligent and reliable of those who’d
accompanied him.

“I’ve found little reason to smile in this life,” Thomas
said. There was no plea for sympathy or understanding in it, but in that bald
statement of fact Philip heard echoes of an underlying sadness or
disappointment. Thomas had never confided much about his past, and Philip would
not force a confidence.

“I hope someday you’ll find more reason for joy,” Philip
told him.

Thomas shrugged. “In any case, it appears unlikely the wine
was tampered with before it was brought to the table. Many of us drank from
that pitcher with no ill effects, so the draught must have been put directly
into your cup. A few servants went by, delivering food, but I’ve found none who
seem less than honest and direct. All I spoke to praised you highly, appeared
to value you as their lord, and wished you good health.”

“In fact,” he continued, “I found no one at all who openly
wished you ill, nor did I detect in anyone even a hint of some other emotion
where you’re concerned. I talked to all the boys you’ve chastised. Warin and
John were not happy about being punished, but both are so excited about being
trained for arms, they hold no resentment about it, either. Young Ross appears
to idolize you, though I think he prefers to do so from afar.”

He lifted his shoulders yet again. “Nor did I have any
greater success in finding any proof regarding the lady Mary. None of the
servants close to her think it likely. Most believe she’s very happy with you
and loves you deeply. I was able to get into her solar and search it while she
was out. I believe I know what she picked up in the tower, but it tells me
naught that is helpful.”

“What was it?” Philip asked, his curiosity aroused.

“The tip of a knife, broken off from the whole. Most like it
was used to loosen the mortar around the stone pushed off the tower and broken
in the process. Do we find the owner of a broken knife, we likely find the one
who would harm you.”

“And did you find such a thing in her solar?”

“Nay, my lord. Only the broken piece alone. Nor did I find
anything else there to indicate guilt on her part.” The man’s normally stern
expression turned even grimmer. “I humbly ask your pardon for my failure in
this task. I’ll not halt my efforts, but I have no strong idea how to proceed
right now either.”

“You’ve naught to apologize for, Thomas,” Philip assured
him. “You’ve done all that could be expected.”

“I wish it had been more, but I’ll continue to keep at it,”
he said.

He departed then, leaving Philip to his preparations for the
holiday.

Mary glowed with joy as she directed the servants in the
hanging of decorations, consulted with the cook on menus for the feasts,
arranged for various gifts, and occasionally offered advice to various groups
of performers or helped them rehearse. He stole kisses whenever they found a
moment to be together in private. She came to his solar those evenings when she
wasn’t too exhausted from the work. He couldn’t get enough of her. Each time he
deposited his seed in her, it left him with a burning anticipation of the next
opportunity.

Two days before Christmas a hunting party led by Sir Peter
and Sir Thomas set out at dawn to bring in the traditional boar for the
Christmas dinner. Philip would have liked to go with them, but found other
duties in the manor kept him closer to home. His regret was tempered by the
satisfaction he never failed to feel each time someone consulted him, needing
the lord’s advice. At times he still found it difficult to believe this
long-held yet unlikely seeming dream had come true for him, and he wondered if
it could last. He thanked God on his knees often for all the blessings he’d
been granted. Yet neither could he entirely the forget the shadow on his joy
represented by the person who had twice tried to kill him.

The hunting party returned at sundown, amidst much fanfare,
flush with exertion and triumph. They dragged behind them a boar of truly
heroic proportions, and all agreed it was a favorable sign for a prosperous
year to come. The spit was prepared and the roasting begun before the night had
passed.

On Christmas Eve, most of the household processed into town
for Midnight Mass. Though he would have preferred to ride, Philip traveled in
the carriage with Lady Mary. The chance to watch her and talk with her
compensated for the discomfort. In addition to her finest gown, she wore her
mother’s tiara and necklace, and looked radiant. He thought of the gifts he’d
collected for her and could scarce wait to see her reaction as he presented
them.

His devotions were more than usually heartfelt, since he had
much to be grateful for, not least of all his recovery from the poison. He
prayed that they would learn who was behind the attacks and it could be
stopped. And that it wouldn’t prove to be Mary responsible, he added.

The Mass went on for more than two hours and it took another
two to return to the manor, so it was near morning by the time they returned.
Philip gave leave to sleep late to all those whose duties didn’t require them
to be up early. He doubted many would take advantage of the opportunity since a
high degree of excitement ran though all as they anticipated the celebrations
to come.

The feasting began at a couple of hours past noon. As all
assembled and took their places, servants brought in tureens of soups and
platters laden with fruits, vegetables, and breads. There was a pause as Philip
and Mary entered the hall and were welcomed with applause by the gathered
household. They stood at the head table.

Philip led the household in a prayer of thanks, then added,
“To all here present. I thank each and every one of you for the contributions
you’ve made to this celebration, to the preparations for it, and for the work
you’ve done over the past months to make it possible. When the king granted me
this manor in June of this year, I had no idea what I’d find when I arrived.
And I must tell you that I’ve had many surprises.” He gave Mary a meaningful
look. She laughed and the rest of the household followed suit. “But most of the
surprises have been pleasant, and I now consider myself one of the most
fortunate and blessed knights in this kingdom. This is a wondrous place, with
wondrous people, and I can only bless God for leading me here.” He raised his
cup to them. “And now that I’ve had my say, I’m sure you are all eager to get
to the more pleasant part of the day: the eating. A joyous Christmas to all.
And now let us dig in.”

Soup was ladled out, and bits of fruit distributed. Ale and
wine flowed freely, but all knew this was just the beginning and most ate
lightly.

As the assembled household spotted the group waiting at the
door from the kitchens, a reverent hush fell.

It took six strong men to carry in the board and set it on
the waiting trestle in front of the lord’s seat. Many gasps of amazement and
pleasure followed its progress, as well as a small army of men armed with
carving knives and youngsters bearing empty platters.

The boar was roasted to a perfect brown color and emitted a
swoon-inducing aroma. Artfully splayed on the platter, surrounded by fruits and
vegetables and small pies, it sat in majestic splendor with an apple in its
mouth and a paper crown on its head.

When Master Butler himself stepped forward to begin carving,
a round of applause greeted him. The first serving went to the head table.
Philip tasted it and approved. “Perfection!” he pronounced. “Convey to Cook
that it is fit for the king himself.”

Laughs and cheers followed. When portions of pork had been
distributed to all present and then consumed, there was a lull, until a group
of young people got up to present the first of many mummeries. Philip laughed
heartily, especially when he realized that all the “girls” in the playlet were
actually boys, and the “boys” were girls. Clearly all were delighted at the
opportunity to dress up as the other sex, and they acted out their parts with
great enthusiasm. He couldn’t quite follow the plot of the story, but didn’t
need to understand it to find it hugely entertaining.

The mummery concluded with a rousing round of pratfalls by
all concerned. The audience laughed, howled, clapped, cheered, and made ribald
comments when it was done.

Servants entered again to clear emptied bowls and platters,
then returned bearing trays with a small mince pie for each person. Mary had
made sure the three important spices, cloves, cinnamon, and nutmeg,
representing the three gifts of the Magi, had been baked into the pies, which
where shaped in the oblong of the manger that had held the infant Lord Jesus.

Mary leaned over to him. “You’re supposed to make a wish
before you take your first bite.”

“Am I supposed to tell everyone what it is?”

“Nay, that can be your secret.”

“Well, thank the heavens for that. We’d both be embarrassed
did I speak mine openly.”