Rebellious Love (22 page)

"
N
o sense seeing how tired you can get," Hilda said gruffly. Taking Verony's arm, she headed back toward her room. "You're a bad enough patient without letting you get cranky."

"I'm not any sort of patient. I'm a perfectly healthy woman who's sick and tired of staying in bed." Digging in her heels, Verony tried to hang back. Being allowed out of bed less than two hours a day was hardly enough to ease her restlessness.

Ignoring her young mistress's futile efforts, Hilda continued on determinedly. "If you'd seen how you looked three weeks ago ..." She broke off abruptly. The memory of Verony's brush with death was still too acute to speak of it. Not even for the excellent purpose of getting her to rest more would Hilda dwell on those terrifying hours.

Resorting finally to the only method that seemed to have any effect, she warned: "If you don't get back into bed right now, I won't bring the twins in."

Verony relented. Muttering to herself about the penalties of letting longtime servants get the upper hand, she removed her yellow-and-green robes, pleased to see that the tunic and surcoat once again fit perfectly. Her figure was almost completely restored, the only change being her larger breasts swollen with milk.

A smile curved her generous mouth as she looked forward to nursing her children. When Arianna opened the door, Verony was sitting up in bed, her arms held out eagerly.

"Here they are," her sister-in-law teased, "the world's most beautiful babies. Fresh from a nice bath and ready for their mother."

It was Catherine's turn to go first. Cradling her daughter to her, Verony gazed down adoringly at feather-soft hair dark as Curran's own. She laughed softly as the babe stared back at her solemnly. Her eyes were the same light blue as all infants', but already they showed signs of darkening to her mother's indigo.

She nursed avidly, despite Verony's joking reminder to leave something for her brother. It never ceased to amaze her that both twins had equally eager appetites. Ruefully, she admitted that Gawain's willingness to wait patiently for his sister to finish must be a virtue inherited from his father.

"Curran sent yet another messenger this morning," Arianna said as the babies were exchanged.

Hilda took Catherine into her lap to burp her, but not before chiding: "That man has to be reassured practically every hour that you and the babies are fine. Otherwise he's liable to come storming back here to see for himself." She chuckled softly, making it clear she approved totally of such husbandly devotion.

Verony sighed regretfully. She wished with all her heart that Curran would come back, but never would she voice that yearning. He had important duties to perform that were vital to her own and her children's future, as well as everyone else's. Not for the world would she want to try to hang on him at such a critical moment.

Has anything new been heard from the king?" she asked.

Arianna shook her head. "The earl, Mark and Stephen Langton are still at Windsor, trying to persuade him that he must meet with all the barons. With Curran holding the tower, it's hoped that John will be more reasonable."

Verony touched a gentle hand to her son's red-gold hair. She and Curran had shared such a short time together after the children's birth. Exhausted by all that had happened, she had slept through most of the following days, waking only occasionally to find her husband sitting beside her. If he ever left her, even briefly, she did not know. Each time her eyes opened he was there to touch her soothingly, murmuring gentle words of comfort and reassurance that penetrated even her weariness and pain.

There was no opportunity to speak of the extraordinary experience they had shared. Try though she did, Verony could not form the words to tell him how she felt or to discover his own thoughts. She had yet to learn how the full flowering of her love, freed at last from all doubt and mistrust, would be received.

Curran had delayed leaving her as long as possible. But in the end, the-decision to take the tower could not be put off. Seizing the most important symbol of royal power was dangerous in the extreme. Yet no alternative remained. The riots that burned the Jewish Quarter and other parts of the city showed clearly that public authority was breaking down. Unless someone intervened quickly, the civil war the d'Arcy's so wanted to prevent would be inevitable.

In a desperate gamble, they sent their forces against the huge stone keep. Only the good sense of the men inside, who saw little reason to remain loyal to a deceitful, cowardly king, made possible an almost bloodless victory.

With the tower secure, the Earl Garrett lost no time heading for Windsor, in company with his eldest son and the archbishop. He left Curran to hold the most important stronghold in England, secure in the knowledge that his confidence was not misplaced.

Though only a mile now separated them, Verony and her husband had not seen each other since shortly after the children's birth. The political situation was far too uncertain for him to risk leaving the tower even briefly, nor would he permit her to enter its dank and potentially treacherous walls.

The messages they exchanged at least once a day were of necessity brief. Curran spoke of his concern for her and the twins. Verony assured him that all was well. She longed to say more, but could not. Part of her even welcomed the delay in confronting Curran, when she would learn if her love was still welcome. If it was not, if her final release from doubt and mistrust was not in time to preserve his own feelings for her, she had no idea how she would endure.

Still not as strong as she wanted to believe, Verony fell asleep again after nursing the twins. Arianna and Hilda tiptoed out, carrying the children. A soft breeze blew in through the shuttered windows. Verony's body, after being so long swollen, looked unusually slender and delicate beneath the thin covers. Her hair, unbraided and brushed to a silken sheen, drifted over the pillows. The dark shadows were fading from beneath her eyes, and her features no longer looked strained.

Although she viewed her appearance as no more than restored to what it had been before the twin's birth, in fact she was far lovelier. There was a new gentleness to het curved mouth and a radiant inner light to her translucent skin. Her body, once more slim and supple, was also riper and more rounded. Her breasts, engorged with milk and set off by dark, velvety nipples, fairly ached for Curran's touch.

Murmuring uneasily, she turned in the bed. Sounds from the bailey drew her slowly from her dreams. Someone had just arrived. There was eager talk, exclamations of surprise and pleasure, much hurrying to and fro.

Out of bed and across the room in a single, swift movement, Verony thrust the shutters opened. She leaned out eagerly, only to be disappointed. There was no sign of Curran, as she had hoped. Instead she saw only another messenger.

But whatever news he brought sparked a far from usual response. Listening to him, Lady Emelie positively glowed. Always beautiful, she looked at that moment restored to the loveliness of a young girl. Hugging Arianna, who looked equally happy, she summoned servants and hurried off about some task.

Unwilling to wait until someone decided she should be told what was happening, Verony dressed rapidly and sped downstairs. Carts were already pulling up in the courtyard, being loaded with household goods, bedding, even the large tents the family used when it traveled in good weather.

Lady Emelie was in the kitchens, supervising servants hastily packing baskets of supplies. She greeted Verony eagerly. "Wonderful news! The king has agreed to a meeting with the barons. Garrett is on his way there now with Mark and Stephen. Curran has left Sir Lyle in charge at the tower and has gone to secure the meeting site. The rest of us are to join them there."

"I hope that includes, me," Verony said instantly.

The countess smiled drily. "Are you strong enough?"

"Yes!"

"And eager to see Curran?"

"O-of course ..." Her voice trailed off. Something of her pain and uncertainty must have shown in her eyes for Lady Emelie embraced her gently.

"Then you shall go, provided you agree to be sensible and ride in one of the wagons."

Verony hesitated. She was determined not to be left behind, but she hated the idea of being stuck in a lumbering cart instead of cantering along on her palfrey.

"You don't want to be all tired out when you get there, do you?" the countess demanded provocatively.

A faint blush suffused Verony's cheeks. If only she could look forward to a passionately loving reunion with her husband. Curran might indeed be glad to see her. Or he might take her sudden arrival as further proof of her headstrong insistence on independence.

For just a moment, Verony hesitated. Perhaps it would be wiser to remain in London and wait for him to come to her.

That thought faded almost the instant it arose. It was not in her nature to wait. If she had permanently damaged Curran's love for her, to the extent that he no longer wanted the close, trusting relationship she now craved, it would be better to find out at once.

To her surprise, riding in the cart turned out to be more comfortable than expected. Lined with straw-filled pallets covered by blankets, it proved a remarkably luxurious conveyance. Accompanying her, Hilda thoroughly enjoyed the indulgence.

"Mark my words, my lady," the nurse declared, "someday people will ride all over the place in wagons like this. Fitted out with every sort of comfort. . . seats . . . cushions . . . even roofs and walls to keep out the rain."

Verony laughed, peering into the padded basket where the twins slept peacefully. "How dull that would be. I like to see the world from horseback . . . feel the breeze on my face and the smooth rhythm of a well-trained steed carrying me along."

"Hmmph. All well and good at your age. But when you get older, when your joints get a bit stiff, you'll remember what I said. Then a bit of luxury like this will look very good indeed."

"I just hope Catherine and Gawain don't get the wrong idea. Heaven forbid they should always expect to travel in such comfort!"

Hilda snorted. "Don't talk to me about those two. They're already as stubborn as they come. And such energy! I expect to find them crawling any day now."

"Give them a few more months." Verony laughed. Modesty prevented her from mentioning that Catherine was already doing remarkably well at holding her head up and waving her chubby arms around. Gawain wasn't far behind, though he seemed willing to let his sister take the lead. After holding her back so long in the womb, it seemed a courtesy she deserved.

Both babies were fast asleep by the time the party reached the large meadow on the banks of the Thames near Windsor where the meeting between John and his barons would take place.

Verony's deep-blue eyes widened as she looked around. The meadow still called by its ancient name, Runnymede, was an unlikely scene of gaiety and boisterousness out of keeping with the somber tension of the moment.

Over ground vivid with ox-eye daisies and purple clover, some fifty tents were pitched. About two dozen of these housed England's greatest nobles,

including all her barons. Proud banners fluttered from spear points, shields hung before the entrance-ways shone with fearsome emblems, and servants dressed in the colors of each noble house darted back and forth about their many tasks.

It looked for all the world as though preparations were under way for a tournament. Verony said as much to Lady Emelie, who snorted disparagingly.

"How else do you think Garrett could get all these louts here and make them hold still for several days? He's promised a great meet once the agreement is signed. Let's just pray that isn't too far off."

A large section of the meadow was cordoned off for the d'Arcys. With speed born of long practice, large, comfortable tents were quickly erected, fold-~ ing tables and benches moved in along with bedding, and supplies set near the river where it was particularly cool.

The largest tent, intended for Earl Garrett and his lady, was also where the family would gather for meals. Around it smaller tents were put up for Verony and Curran, Arianna and Mark, and the younger boys.

When Hilda had at last convinced herself that the ground was not too damp, the breeze ruffling through the opened flap not too brisk and the interior as graciously appointed as was possible, she permitted Verony to enter.

"Now lie down and rest," she instructed. "The twins will sleep several hours yet, and you could do with a nap."

"I'm not tired. Do you think there's any chance of a bath?"

"A bath! Out here in the open with all manner of foul humors mucking up the air? Whatever are you thinking of?"

Verony grinned mischievously. "I'm not exactly planning to strip in the middle of the meadow, Hilda. I just want warm water and soap so that, in strict privacy of course, I can wash off some of this road dirt clinging to me."

"Hmmph! Well, perhaps . . ."

"Please," Verony cajoled. "I promise to rest as soon as I'm clean."

Won over, Hilda capitulated. She set a servant to heating water and took herself off to help unpack the foodstuffs and start supper.

Stripping off her dusty tunic and surcoat, Verony bathed leisurely. Drying herself on a soft towel, she rubbed scented oil into her skin before donning a fresh linen chemise. The day was growing wanner, so much so that she chose a thin tunic of lavender wool and left off the heavier surcoat that would usually have gone over it.