Sanctuary of Roses (24 page)

Startled, Madelyne glanced at Jube and saw
that he was sidling toward them. Looking back at Reginald, she saw
the earnestness on his face, but also determination in his eyes.
“Mm…Jube? Would you please step down the hall a trice? I should
appreciate a bit of privacy for a moment.”

He glowered in surprise, but complied,
stepping away just far enough that he was out of earshot—she
thought—but close enough that it could barely be considered
private.

“Yes, my lord? What is it you wished to say
to me?”

Reginald stepped closer to her, standing so
that his back blocked Jube’s view of Madelyne. She felt enclosed by
him, with the wall behind and Reginald between her and Gavin’s man.
“I have heard that the king wishes you to wed,” he told her. Taking
her hands, he raised them, looking down seriously at her. She felt
neither threatened nor apprehensive…just curious and more than a
bit shy as he continued, “I have decided that I will place my suit
for you to the king. If I am granted thus, we will wed.” He pressed
his lips, soft and gentle, onto the back of her hand.

Madelyne’s heart thumped harder. “I was to
be a nun,” she told him. “But I was brought here to the king for
another purpose.”

“You will make a fine wife,” he replied, in
an echo of the same words Gavin had used the night before. “I
wished only to tell you that I hope you will be mine.”

Frustration rose within her. Was this how it
was to be outside of the abbey? All of her life’s decisions made
without regard for her feelings and desires? Lord Reginald was a
comely, gentle, kind man…but he did not seem to hear what she
said.

Did any man ever hear what a woman said?

“It appears I have no choice in the matter,”
she told him, reminding herself of that as she spoke. “I can do
only what the king requires of me, and all I can wish for is a
husband who will have a care for me.”

Reginald stepped closer, brushing a hand
over her cheek. “I vow, if the king shall approve my suit, I will
have a care for you, Madelyne. And I will court you and woo you so
that you won’t regret that you didn’t take your vows.”

She nodded. “Aye, Lord Reginald. I thank you
for your kind words.” Pulling away, she turned to grasp the handle
of her door, noticing that Jube had somehow inched his way close
enough to hear their words. She wondered how much he’d heard, and
then realized it didn’t matter.

“Good night, my lady,” said Reginald as she
opened the door.

“Good evening, my lord. Good evening, Jube,”
she added.

Madelyne pushed into the chamber, closing
the door behind her, and turned to see Tricky pacing the floor,
muttering in agitation.

When her friend saw that Madelyne had
entered, she froze and crossed her arms emphatically over her
chest. “Good evening, my lady.”

“What is it that ails you, Tricky? Where is
Peg?”

“Peg is supping with Lady Judith’s maid
Onda. I returned to the chambers to await your return, and to have
a word with Clem—only to find that he has cried off and asked Lord
Mal Verne to relieve him of the duty of guarding you.” Her full
lips firmed into a tight line.

Madelyne looked at her in surprise. “But
’tis Jube for whom you have a care, and who has taken Clem’s
position. Does that not please you?”

Tricky snorted and moved to stoke the fire.
Even in the summer, the castle chambers were damp and cold at
night. “Of course. I do not miss the grumblings of that malcontent
Clem when I step out of the room. But I had aught I wished to speak
with him on, and now he is gone.”

“Certainly you can send for him if your need
is that great,” Madelyne replied, shaking her head. “Tricky, I do
not understand why you are so overset.”

The plump maid collapsed on a stool. “I
meant to talk with Clem upon my return, but he wasn’t here.” She
stood just as abruptly as she’d sat. “I’m sorry, my lady, for
burdening you with my silly complaints when you are waiting for my
assistance!”

She began to help Madelyne disrobe,
chattering all the while. “’Tis said that you are to be wed anon,”
she said. “All of the court speaks of the shy woman from the abbey
who will have a husband chosen for her.”

Madelyne felt the coldness settle over her
again, and sat slowly on the stool recently vacated by Tricky.
“Aye, my friend. It appears to be so. The king will not allow me to
return to the abbey, and he has decreed that I must wed. I have
prayed long and hard over it—you know that, Tricky. Yet, there
appears to be no way other than to abide by the king’s wishes.” She
felt the weight on her head lessen as her maid pulled the pins from
the coils of hair and they opened, falling straight.

“My lady…you have agonized long over what
you cannot control. You must embrace your new life with a bold face
and courage.”

“You have the right of it…and deep in my
heart I’ve come to believe that is what God expects of me.”

“Aye, the matter has been taken from your
hands by the king—the highest power on this earth other than the
pope. You are right to believe it is God himself who pushes you in
that direction. You are not meant to devote your life to Him. I
know now that I am not meant to either.” Her last words were
softer, but firm. “I will not return to the abbey, Madelyne.
Indeed, I should wish to remain with you for as long as you
desire—in whatever capacity you wish.”

Madelyne turned in her perch on the stool,
looking up at the befreckled face of her companion. “Tricky, of
course you may stay with me. Indeed, I am gratified that you should
wish to…and I will relish having a friend rather than a maid at my
side.” She reached for her hand and squeezed.

Patricka smiled, tears springing to her eyes
in big, large drops. “Thank you Madelyne. I am meant to be your
maid, though. I hold no title and have no other attribute to
commend me. I truly wish that, for you are a friend as well as a
mistress.”

“Indeed. As you wish—but you must call me
Madelyne when we are alone. I do not wish to have that distance
between us.”

Tricky hugged her from behind, then returned
to the task at hand. “Now, Madelyne, tell me what you feel for
handsome Lord Reginald. ’Tis said throughout the court that he woos
you and presses his suit to the king. There are others who would do
the same, you know, but he is the most vocal. ’Tis believed that he
would be a good match for you.”

Madelyne swallowed back the lurch of her
heart into her throat. “Lord Reginald has said the same. I do not
know what to think. He is kind and gentle. I don’t wish to wed, but
if I must—which I know that I must—it would not alarm me were he
chosen.”

“Has he kissed you yet, my lady?” asked
Tricky mischievously.

“Kissed me? Of course not.”

“Oh.” Tricky sounded disappointed. “I was
certain he had. Do you not wonder what it would be like to be
kissed by a man? I wondered for so long, and now it has been by two
men I have been kissed in this last fortnight.”

“I do not wonder what ’twould be like, as I
have
been kissed.” Madelyne stood to slip her sleeping gown
on. Then, realizing what Tricky had said, she added in surprise.
“
Two
men? Tricky, you have been kissed by two men?”

At the same moment, Tricky paused from tying
the back of Madelyne’s gown to peer around into her face. “If Lord
Reginald has not kissed you, then who has?”

Blood rushed to Madelyne’s face. “I should
have said nothing,” she stammered. “’Twas foolish to speak of—it
meant nothing. Who is it that you have kissed besides Jube?”

“That naysayer Clem,” Tricky said in
disgust. “But that was long since passed, and he has been naught
but rude and edgy since then.” She sighed, then giggled. “Poor
man…he does not know that he is meant to wed with me, so he fights
his desires. He believes ’tis Jube I love, and I have half a mind
to let him think so betimes—the man is so thick-headed!” Even as
she spoke, Madelyne saw her reach for the wormwood comb that Clem
had bought her.

“You are going to wed with Clem?” Madelyne
asked, glad to have deflected Tricky’s interest in her own kissing
experience—and bewildered by her friend’s sudden change of heart.
“Were you not complaining what a malcontent he is? Were you not
grousing that you do not wish even to speak with him?”

“Oh, aye, but ’twas only because I was angry
with him, you see…the man does not know yet that we will wed. He
believes only that he is annoyed by me…little does he know that
’tis love he feels and does not know how to scratch that itch!”

With a little frown on her apple-cheeked
face, Tricky resumed her duties and began to drag the comb through
Madelyne’s long tresses. “’Tis glad I am that Jube kissed me too,
else I would never have known that Clem—the oaf—is the man for
me.”

“What do you mean?”

“’Tis in the kiss, Maddie. Do you remember
what Peg said—’tis by the kiss that you will know. And he will know
too—the kiss that makes your head spin. Jube’s kiss was nice and
pleasant, but it stirred my insides little more than a wisp of a
breeze…but Clem…ohh, Maddie, ’twas like I was caught in a storm on
the ocean and could not find a secure holding for the life of
me…and I became hot and fluttery….” She yanked too hard with the
comb, pulling a short yelp from her mistress. “I am sorry, my
lady!” she apologized, and silence ensued as Tricky concentrated on
combing her hair without balding her mistress as Madelyne mulled
over her friend’s words.

Then, as Tricky replaced the comb on its
table, she turned to look at Madelyne. “Who is it who has kissed
you if it was not Lord Reginald?”

Again, heat swarmed Madelyne’s face. “Nay,
Tricky, I do not wish to tell. It was nothing.”

“You must tell me Madelyne. I want to know!”
Tricky planted her hands on her hips and stood in front of her,
glowering. “If I am to be your maid, I must know all so that I can
advise you and look out for your best interests.”

Madelyne, though not convinced by her maid’s
argument, drew a deep breath. Part of her wished to tell…someone.
“Lord Gavin. ’Twas Lord Gavin.”

Tricky squeaked in shock. “Lord Mal Verne
kissed you?”

“Be still!” Madelyne snapped, looking toward
the heavy door. Could Jube—or Rohan—hear what was being said?

“Lord Gavin kissed you?” Tricky had lowered
her voice, but now stared at her assessingly. “I should never have
guessed that, my lady. That puts quite a different light on
things.”

“What?” Madelyne asked. “What do you
mean?”

But Tricky did not reply; just looked at her
shewdly, brows crinkling and lips settled firmly, nodding her head
as though some great mystery had been revealed.

Nineteen

“I’ve seen nor heard nothing of de
Belgrume,” Gavin told the king. It was evening, and he sat in a
large cushioned chair in the king’s private bedchamber.

Henry paced, as always, hands clasped behind
his back. “He has been too quiet and I fear that he plots
something. I much prefer to know where he is and what it is he
does.”

“I cannot disagree,” Gavin replied. “But he
seems to have disappeared and is nowhere to be found here at
Whitehall. Mayhap he has taken his twisted self back to Tricourten
for a time…but I do not believe that is likely.”

“How come you on your task of finding a
husband for that little nun?” Henry changed the subject.

Before Gavin could reply, a knock came at
the chamber door and a squire entered. “Her majesty has arrived and
awaits your pleasure,” said the young man with a short bow.

“Indeed, I have been awaiting her for the
last hour. Bid her enter.” Henry waved his hand impatiently. “How
can it take a woman so long to prepare for bed?” he grumbled.

“When one is preparing for bed with the king
of the realm,” a husky voice said from the doorway, “one must do
the preparations justice.”

Garbed in a fur-lined satin robe, Eleanor
crossed the room. Giving a brief curtsey to her husband, she then
raised a cheek to him. He kissed it and grasped her hand, bringing
it to his lips. “Madame, you are beautiful as always,” he told her.
When she glanced curiously at Gavin, the king explained, “I shall
be only another short while. Please, sit…and mayhap you will have
an opinion on the matter at hand.”

He gestured to Gavin, who had risen upon
Eleanor’s entrance. “Your majesty, may I pour you some wine?”

“Only if ’tis from Aquitaine,” she responded
with a coy smile.

“Of course. The king has only the best of
all vintages,” he said smoothly, nodding pointedly in her direction
to include her in the compliment.

She was delighted. “Gavin Mal Verne, I did
not expect such an agreeable response from you. The ladies speak of
you with such apprehension…half of them would swoon if you so much
as looked at them, they fear your black moods so much.” She laughed
and took the goblet that he offered to her. “Now I know better and
will not allow them to speak thus.”

Gavin wasn’t certain how to respond, so he
merely nodded again and, after she sat, he, too, sank into a chair.
Henry continued to pace, fussing with his tunic, a sheaf of
parchments, his goblet of wine…whatever it was that caught his eye
and allowed him to expend energy.

“Do you hunt with us on the morrow?” Eleanor
asked Gavin.

“Aye, your majesty. I didn’t know that you
planned to join us.”

She nodded regally, her blond hair gleaming
in the candlelight. “I and several of my ladies will join you. I
look forward to fresh venison or mayhap a wild pig if all goes
well.”

The king seemed to pull himself from the
frenetic activity of pacing the chamber back to his companions and
his own agenda. “So, Gavin, have you found a husband for Madelyne
de Belgrume? The sooner she is wed and bed, the easier I shall
feel—for de Belgrume will have no cause to disturb my court. And of
course I shall assess a significant brides-price for her hand,” he
added, tugging at his beard.