Love Everlasting (20 page)

“I trust few people,” Royce said softly. One
long-fingered hand reached out to stroke Julianna’s cheek. His hand
moved lower, settling at the base of her throat, where his thumb
pressed on the pulse throbbing there.

“Royce.” Despite her attempt to keep her
voice steady, it quavered and broke on his name. She swallowed
hard. Royce smiled, as if he’d received a signal from her.

“Was there something you wanted to say, but
you changed your mind?” he asked in a quiet tone that seemed to
Julianna to entice her into confessing something. She knew too many
secrets that she ought to confess to him. But she dared not speak
any of those secrets aloud, so she resorted to a gentle
accusation.

“It is difficult to be the object of
suspicion,” she said.

“It is even more difficult to be the one who
suspects.” He began to lower his mouth to hers.

“I don’t - I wouldn’t - not ever.” Her
whispered protest ended when Royce’s lips touched hers.

It was not a deep kiss, nor a very long one.
She stared at him when he drew away, and she wondered exactly what
his intentions toward her were. Since the night when he’d received
that mysterious letter, Royce had kept his distance from her. Even
when he bedded her with unleashed passion and apparent pleasure on
his part, he still wasn’t completely with her, not the way he’d
been with her on the wonderful second night of their marriage. He
provided further proof of how distant his heart was by leaving her,
departing from the queen’s apartment without a word of explanation
or farewell.

Julianna had watched two dozen of Royce’s
men-at-arms arrive at Norwich, brought there from Wortham by his
command, and she had noticed how those men were dispersed about the
castle to guard the entrances to certain rooms, including the
queen’s rooms. Lord Cortland hadn’t voiced any complaints about the
new guards that Julianna was aware of. Judging by the constable’s
original coolness toward Royce, his lack of loud irritation at the
presence of so many of Royce’s people struck Julianna as
remarkable.

“Do you know what’s afoot?” she asked Janet
when she visited her friend in her room.

“Not exactly,” Janet responded, adding, “Men
love to keep secrets from women. It makes them feel important.”

“You are almost as clever as Royce at evading
my questions,” Julianna said.

“The truth is, Cadwallon won’t tell me what’s
going on. What I do know, and you ought to know, too,” Janet said,
“is that Royce has been a loyal friend to King Henry since long
before Henry’s older brother, King William Rufus, was killed by an
arrow while he was hunting in the New Forest.”

Julianna froze. Terror raced through her. She
couldn’t move, she could barely breathe, and she couldn’t have
spoken if her life at that moment had depended on speech. Janet
didn’t seem to notice. She just continued with an explanation that
made dreadful sense to Julianna, yet made little sense at all in
that particular time and place.

“When Henry became king of England and duke
of Normandy on his brother’s death,” Janet said, “Royce was at his
side. That was more than twenty years ago. Royce has been a staunch
friend to Henry ever since. So I can only conclude that his recent
secretiveness, and Cadwallon’s, too, has something to do with the
king’s safety. Julianna, will you excuse me? I fear I am going to
be sick again.”

“What can I do to help you?” Julianna
asked.

“See to the children. Take them to the garden
or the great hall.”

“Gladly, my dear. Try to rest while we are
gone.”

Julianna had become deeply attached to both
of Janet’s children. From that day on, she made a habit of removing
them from their mother’s vicinity for an hour or two each morning,
until Janet’s stomach had time to settle and she felt well enough
to deal with two active youngsters.

Alexander liked to watch the men-at-arms
practicing in the yard that was set aside for that activity, and
where her brother went, Sybilla also wanted to go. As a result, for
the next two weeks Julianna spent almost every chilly morning
standing at one side of the yard, bundled in her warmest cloak.

She was surprised to see Michael there,
working with broadsword and shield. After a few days she decided he
couldn’t be watching her on Royce’s orders, for the secretary was
too occupied in defending himself against his opponents. He did
know she was there, for he always greeted her politely on his way
out of the yard.

“You limp,” Sybilla said to him one morning
as he left the field of combat.

“Aye, that I do.” Michael paused to smile
down at her before he handed his sword to his squire, Brian. He
slung his cloak around his shoulders and fastened the clasp before
he spoke again. “My leg was injured a few years ago, so I must try
very hard to make it well.”

“Oh.” With all the bold innocence of
childhood, Sybilla regarded Michael’s left leg. Suddenly, she
reached out her little hand and touched Michael’s knee. “Does it
hurt?”

“Sybilla!” Alexander cried. “Stop that. You
are being rude.”

“No, Alexander, don’t stop her from asking,”
Michael said. “It’s natural for her to be curious. My lady Sybilla,
I’m sure you know that men are sometimes injured or wounded. When
they are, they must learn to work through the pain and the limp, or
try to strengthen the weak arm, until they are whole again.”

“He’s a hero, you know,” Alexander whispered
to Julianna as soon as Michael and Brian had bowed and taken their
leave. “My father says so.”

It was on Julianna’s lips to tell the boy
that Royce was a hero, too, for having gone into France in secret
to rescue Michael. But she thought better of it and did not speak.
Instead, she hustled the children into the kitchen for warm milk
and fresh bread and butter before taking them back to their
mother.

The thought of Royce as a hero who’d risk his
own life to save a friend lingered in Julianna’s mind for the rest
of the day. When he joined her in bed that night she accepted his
embrace with such warmth that he paused to draw back and gaze down
at her in the flickering candlelight.

“What’s this?” he asked, watching her with
shadowed eyes. “You are remarkably eager tonight.”

“Is it so difficult to believe that I find
pleasure when we come together? I do, you know.” She skimmed one
hand along his shoulder and up into his hair. “Your manly passion
has been a revelation to me.”

“So you have told me, several times.” He
began to push himself into her in the slow, deliberate way that
surely he knew by now would soon have her pleading for more of him.
“You have been a delightful surprise to me, too.”

His suspicions apparently vanquished, at
least for the moment, he regarded her with an honest tenderness
that quickly flared into hot desire. Then, for a brief time,
Julianna felt as if they really were of one heart, as well as one
flesh.

King Henry, Queen Adelicia, and their large
party of nobles, ladies, squires, pages, men-at-arms, and servants
arrived at Norwich late on the twentieth day of December. With them
came a long train of carts loaded with baggage and furniture. They
also brought enough horses to overtax the facilities of the Norwich
stables rather severely.

Kenric was, of course, among the crowd of
courtiers. Though Royce knew he could not delay the meeting for
long, he took care that Kenric should not immediately approach
Julianna. His protective attitude wasn’t solely for Julianna’s
sake. Royce wanted Kenric fairly slavering for information before
he spoke to Julianna. He didn’t consider Kenric especially
intelligent, so if the younger man was eager enough it was possible
that he’d make a mistake and betray himself.

There was also the matter of the test that
Royce had devised for Julianna. He wanted time in which to set it
into motion.

Once the lengthy official greetings were
concluded, Royce hailed a short, heavy-set nobleman and brought him
to Julianna. She stood a little apart from the crowd, near one of
the columns that supported the lowest tier of the galleries that
surrounded the great hall on all sides.

“My lady,” Royce said, watching closely for
her reaction, “allow me to present Lord Dunstan de Granville, whose
lands lie on the border between Upper Normandy and France. But
perhaps you know each other already. My lord, I believe you and
Julianna’s late husband, Deane of Craydon, were acquainted.”

“Not well acquainted,” Dunstan de Granville
said, with a sidelong glance at Royce that indicated his puzzlement
as to what the spymaster’s intentions were. “We did meet on several
occasions, but I did not see him during the last few years of his
life, when Deane was in ill health. I never had the pleasure of
meeting his wife, though, of course, I heard that King Henry had
chosen a new husband for her. My felicitations, Lady Julianna.” He
bowed over her hand.

“Thank you, my lord,” Julianna responded
demurely.

Royce observed no sign of embarrassment in
her manner, though she had told him back in Caen about Kenric’s
demand that she learn what she could about Lord Dunstan.

“Dunstan de Granville,” she repeated,
frowning a little. “I have heard your name mentioned. I’m sorry to
say I cannot recall where or in what connection.”

“Perhaps your late husband spoke of me,” Lord
Dunstan said.

“It’s possible.”

The three of them remained where they were,
conversing with the amiable idleness that was typical of court
gatherings until Julianna paled and suddenly caught at Royce’s arm.
At once he knew the inevitable had occurred and he braced himself
for the confrontation he had hoped to delay.

“My lady.” Kenric bowed before her. “My
lords.” Kenric’s second bow was aimed in the general direction of
the two men who were with Julianna, but his cold and searching gaze
remained on her face.

“Good day to you, Kenric.” Royce spoke in his
most repressive tone. “I trust you enjoyed a pleasant journey to
Norwich.” Silently, he wished Kenric in the outermost reaches of
Hades. Julianna’s hand on his arm was shaking and Royce knew all
too well the look of terror he saw in her eyes. He was going to
have to do something about Kenric, and soon. But not before he had
proven to his own satisfaction just what Julianna’s real connection
to the man was. Unfortunately, at the moment he found that he had
another, very forceful female to contend with, and he knew better
than to object.

“Julianna, you must come at once,” Janet
ordered, bustling up to their little group and seizing Julianna’s
hand. “We are bidden to join the queen. She wants to see her rooms
before the evening meal and it’s up to us to escort her there and
make certain she is pleased with our arrangements for her. If she
is not, we will have to oversee some prompt changes. Good day to
you, my lord Dunstan. How nice to see you again. Do, please, excuse
us.”

With a murmured apology, Julianna allowed
herself to be led away toward the flock of ladies who surrounded
the queen. Kenric lingered for a few moments. Then, apparently
deciding that he’d learn nothing of importance from Royce, he
wandered off and disappeared into the crowd that filled the great
hall.

“What scheme are you hatching now?” asked
Dunstan de Granville when he and Royce were, relatively speaking,
alone.

“First, tell me what Kenric has been doing
since he left Caen,” Royce said.

“Ah, that one.” Lord Dunstan made a sound of
disgust. “Kenric’s opinion of himself is too grand and his temper
is too short for the work he imagines he is capable of doing. He
tries to gather information for King Louis, but he alienates almost
everyone with whom he converses. It’s a miracle he hasn’t lost his
head long ago. He’s a singularly inept spy, unless his very
ineptness is a disguise. I suppose that is always possible.”

Royce had noticed two men who stood close by,
seeming to talk to each other but actually trying to hear what he
and Lord Dunstan were saying. A quick movement of his eyes toward
the two and back again brought a slight nod from Dunstan to
indicate that he understood.

“I assume you received my message?” Dunstan
spoke just above a whisper and frowned at Royce as if disagreeing
with something he had said.

“Yes.” Speaking with equal softness, Royce
frowned back at his companion and let his hand begin to stray to
the vicinity of his sword hilt. “Thank you for the timely warning.
Cortland and I have taken suitable precautions. I am going to turn
my back on you now. Meet me on the northern battlements at
midnight. There you may make your full report in privacy.”

“You needn’t think to insult me!” Dunstan
exclaimed in a louder voice. With his hands on his hips and a scowl
on his blunt features he exuded a sinister air of danger that was
at odds with his light coloring and sturdy frame.

“My lord, I have no wish to insult you, or
any other man, in the presence of the king,” Royce said. Fully
aware of the many pairs of interested eyes that were by now
watching them, he stalked away from Dunstan de Granville, who was
one of his best and most dependable double agents. Out of the
corner of his eye he saw Kenric nod as if he had just confirmed
something in his own mind. When Kenric approached Dunstan, Royce
allowed himself a small, secret smile.

He was obliged to leave the great hall, and
Julianna, as soon as the evening meal was finished. King Henry
wasn’t a man to linger at table, nor did he care much for the
singers and jugglers who entertained his court.

“They will relax and enjoy themselves more
without my presence,” he said to Royce as they headed for the royal
apartments.

Royce cast a single glance backward. Seeing
that Michael was standing close to Julianna, as he had earlier
ordered his secretary to do, he left the great hall without much
concern over his wife. Cadwallon was also present to offer his
protection, if protection was needed, or to eavesdrop on any
private communications between Julianna and Kenric. Meanwhile, King
Henry, having been informed by Lord Dunstan of the plot against
Queen Adelicia, wanted to know what steps Royce and Lord Cortland
had taken to ensure her safety.