Stuart, Elizabeth (19 page)

She
drew in a deep breath. Was there no end to the misery Robert de Langley had
faced? To have lost his wife, and unborn child, then to have heard the vicious
gossip that he had murdered them. To be hearing it still!

Stephen
turned and put a hand on de Langley's shoulder. Everywhere men were whispering.
Some looked angry, others thoughtful. All were staring curiously at Robert de Langley.

Richard
de Lucy glanced about the hall. "Get this marriage done and done quickly,
Your Grace. Another few days and it might not come off at all."

Stephen
nodded wearily. "Tomorrow. Find Montagne and tell him. We'll have this all
over tomorrow."

***

The
remainder of the afternoon passed in a blur of confusion and work. To Jocelyn
it was a blessing; there was no time to think. When she broke the news to
Adelise, her sister took to her bed with a bout of weeping so violent it
brought on one of her headaches.

Jocelyn
saw to the frantic preparations in the kitchens, returning to her chamber to
dress for the supper meal. Her father had commanded that both she and Adelise
be present. How she was ever going to get Adelise up and ready, she had no
idea.

She
dressed quickly in her best gold tunic, then laid out an exquisite one of soft
rose wool for Adelise.

"Adelise,
my darling, you are making yourself ill to no cause," she murmured,
sitting down on the bed and bathing her sister's forehead. "Despite what
you fear, all will go well for you. Lord de Langley is a good man and does mean
to make a good husband. He swore it to me himself. In those very words."

Adelise
opened her eyes. Jocelyn ached for the pain she saw there, wondered if it was
reflected in her own.

"But,
Jocelyn, you don't understand," Adelise whispered. "You can't
possibly understand how I feel, how it hurts knowing that tomorrow I'm to wed
Robert de Langley... that—" She swallowed, then choked, "—that
horrible
man instead of Edward!"

Jocelyn
continued her soothing ministrations with the cloth. "Perhaps I don't
understand exactly," she murmured. "But I do know how it is to have
all your dreams destroyed. To have your life changed in an instant. To be
uprooted and sent where you don't want to be to live with people you fear and
distrust."

Adelise
shook her head impatiently. "But it's not the same, Jocelyn! Don't you
see? You were coming to live with family, but I'm going to... to
belong
to
that man! And he's already killed
one
wife!"

Jocelyn
stiffened. "That's only the vilest gossip, Adelise. Robert de Langley's
wife died of a fever."

"That's
not what Edward thinks."

Jocelyn's
eyes narrowed. "And how did you hear this? Have you spoken with
Pelham?"

"No,"
Adelise said wistfully. "I only wish there was some way I could. But
Hawise told me. She said he stormed into the hall and challenged Robert de
Langley. That he even defied the king for my sake." She gave a dreamy sigh
and closed her eyes. "She said everyone's talking of it."

Jocelyn
threw down the cloth in exasperation. "Oh, for the love of God, Adelise!
Pelham only repeated some ugly gossip. He blackened a man's character with no
proof at all. Frankly, I wouldn't have thought him the man to do such a
thing."

Adelise's
eyes snapped open. She stared at Jocelyn in hurt surprise.

"Adelise..."
Jocelyn tried to soften her voice, to stem the angry flow of words.
"Adelise, I know you're terribly disappointed. Life has a way of doing
that sometimes. But if you'd just give the man half a chance, I swear you'd soon
find yourself the happiest woman in all of England!"

Adelise
shook her head. Tears flooded her beautiful eyes once again. "You don't
understand, Jocelyn, but then how could you? You're always so brave, but I'm
not like that. I've tried to be, but I'm
not!

"I'm
afraid, Jocelyn," she added, softly. "I'm afraid I'll not be able to
get through this tomorrow, that there'll be so much worse after that.
Sometimes... sometimes I really do wish I were dead!"

"Oh,
for pity's sake, don't talk such nonsense, Adelise!"

Jocelyn
swung around in surprise. Brian stood in the doorway. She wondered how long
he'd been listening. "Leave us," he said, meeting her eyes. "I
would speak to my sister alone."

Jocelyn
started to protest, but Brian and Adelise were close. Perhaps he might be of
more comfort.

She
slid from the bed. "There's wine there on the chest. Get her to drink
some, if you can. I've stirred in rosemary to ease her head." She
hesitated, frowned. "Father told me she must come down to supper. I think
it a mistake, but didn't dare argue. Perhaps you can—"

"Don't
bother yourself," he interrupted. "I'll bring her with me."

"Brian,
no! Don't make me go down. I can't face them. Not tonight."

Brian
filled a wine cup. "Of course you can, Adelise. Are you forgetting you're
a Montagne? No coward's blood in us."

He
sat down on the bed, holding out the brimming cup. "Here, drink this down.
You've nothing to be afraid of, you know. I'll not let that arrogant whoreson
de Langley harm a single hair of your head. Certainly you must know that."

Jocelyn
swung around in the doorway, staring at her brother in angry disbelief. "
Brian!"

But
Adelise was already sitting up. She took the cup he was holding, gazing up at
him as if he truly were her deliverer.

Brian
glanced back over his shoulder. "I believe I did say
alone,
Jocelyn."
When she still didn't move, he asked, "Well, and what are you waiting for?
I'd think you would want to see to the kitchens. It'll be your head if Father
finds anything amiss."

Jocelyn
stared at him a moment, fighting to hold her tongue. And then she closed the
door.

***

Somehow
they got through that interminable, uncomfortable meal. Adelise did manage to
compose herself and come downstairs, and though she ate little and spoke even
less, her hysteria was over. She seemed to have accepted her marriage as
inevitable.

Jocelyn
breathed a weary sigh of relief, but it was short lived. The king had barely
complimented the first course when a fight broke out between some de Langley
men and some from Montagne.

The
altercation was swiftly stopped, but men sat silent and uneasy in its
aftermath, and Stephen's determinedly cheerful banter struck a false note.
Things grew more difficult when the king proposed a toast to the betrothed
couple. Men lifted their cups and drank dutifully, but Adelise sat silent and
unmoving, refusing to lift her cup.

It
was a deliberate insult to Robert de Langley, to the king as well, though
Jocelyn doubted Adelise had thought that far. Lord Montagne had the grace to
look uncomfortable and lean over and speak to the king, but Brian only grinned
down the table. It was obvious he was enjoying his enemy's humiliation.

After
that, no more toasts were offered until the meal was ending. Then, to
everyone's surprise, Robert de Langley rose to his feet. His face was
impassive, his voice cool. "To you, my lady Adelise, may you soon find all
the happiness you desire," he said graciously.

Adelise
reached for her cup, lifting it toward her betrothed with hands that were
surprisingly steady. "And to you my lord de Langley. May you soon have
everything you deserve."

De
Langley sent her a thoughtful look. "Aye, madam, I suppose we can both
drink to that." He raised his cup. "To a better tomorrow, both for us
and for England."

This
time the shouts of agreement rang to the ceiling, and something inside Jocelyn
seemed to slip and give way. She hadn't realized how tense she had been all
night, how overwhelmingly weary she was, both in body and mind.

It
was going to be all right. Adelise would learn to stand up to him. Robert de
Langley would realize what a treasure he had. All would be well. They would
both be happy.

So
why did her throat ache and her eyes blur and burn? And why did she long for
nothing so much as to be alone where no one could find her?

The
two women took their leave of the king. Jocelyn followed her sister up the
stairs and into their chamber. The room was cold. Defiantly Jocelyn added an
extravagant amount of charcoal to the unevenly burning brazier. This was no
night for frugality. Besides, any extravagance would surely be laid on the
king.

She
dragged back the bedcovers, sliding between the cold sheets. After tonight she
would sleep here alone.

She
glanced toward Adelise. Hawise was brushing out her sister's exquisite hair.
Jocelyn closed her eyes, trying not to think of where her sister would be
sleeping, of what would most likely be happening by tomorrow at this time.

"Hawise,
you may go now," Adelise said. "Tonight you must find a place in the
hall as I told you. This is the last night Jocelyn and I will be together as
sisters. There are things we must speak of."

Jocelyn
met her sister's eyes. She was surprised Adelise was so calm. She had expected
another bout of weeping, had been steeling herself to try to comfort her
somehow.

Hawise
took up her blankets and left without protest. Adelise blew out the candles and
slid into bed alongside Jocelyn. The room was quiet save for the soft hiss and
sigh of the brazier, the occasional snap of aged, burning wood.

"I'll
miss you," Adelise said at last. "Things will never be the same, I'm
afraid."

"I'll
miss you as well," Jocelyn said. "More than you can imagine. But
things will be better for you, Adelise, and that makes me happy. I know you
don't think so, but all will turn out for you for the best, I believe."

There
was another long moment of silence. "I hope so. Dear God, I do hope so!
But I'm afraid. I'm so afraid things will never be the same after tomorrow, for
any of us."

Jocelyn
reached out in the darkness and hugged her sister tightly. "Things change,
Adelise, but that doesn't mean it has to be for the worse. Change is hard. I
know that. But life does go on and you must go on with it. You must work to
find the happiness for which you were born. You'll have a great house to
manage, you'll be your own mistress..."

She
hesitated, then forced herself to go on. "And despite what you think,
you'll soon have a wonderful husband who adores you. Besides, we'll always be
sisters. No one can ever change that."

She
forced a small laugh. "Believe me, I did wish to change it when we were
small, but now only see how foolish I was. How stupid I was not to have loved
you from the first, instead of splashing mud all over that beautiful red mantle
Nurse had you dressed in."

Adelise
gave a small, choked laugh at the memory, trying desperately to regain control.
It was comforting to speak of the past, the good parts.

For
a time the sisters reminisced in the darkness, retelling familiar stories,
sharing small triumphs, past laughter. Gradually, the talk quieted.

Jocelyn
closed her eyes against the terrible despair creeping through her. How would
she ever endure life here without Adelise?

"Jocelyn?"
The voice was small and forlorn.

"Yes."

"Jocelyn,
I'm afraid I'm rather stupid. I've never been clever or strong like you. I
always wished I was, you know."

"Adelise,
don't be—"

"No,
listen, Jocelyn, I know it's true. None of that matters now, though, I... I
just want you to know that I love you, Jocelyn. And I hope, I really hope
you'll come to see me after I'm gone. I'll so look forward to seeing you.
I..." Her voice broke. "Oh, Jocelyn, swear you'll come!"

Jocelyn
thought of Adelise and Robert de Langley, of how overwhelmingly difficult a
visit to Belavoir would be. "Of course I'll come," she said evenly.
"Don't be a goose, Adelise. You know I'll look forward to it."

"And
I want you to know, Jocelyn, that what I said before still holds true. You'll
always have a home wherever I am. I know you and Father don't always understand
each other. If you ever need someone to speak to him for you, you've but to
ask, you know. That is, if he's still speaking to
me."

Jocelyn
felt a nagging sense of shame. On the worst night of her life, Adelise was
thinking of her.

While
she had been thinking of Adelise's new husband.

"Don't
be silly, Adelise," she managed. "Father's dislike of Robert de
Langley won't change his feelings for you."

"There's
just one thing more," Adelise said after a moment. "I... I don't
quite know how to ask it. I suppose you'll know. You always seem to know
everything somehow." She cleared her throat awkwardly. "What is it
that happens... in the marriage bed? I've some idea, but I'm going to feel
foolish enough tomorrow night as it is. I'd at least like to know what to
expect about... about
that."

Jocelyn
almost laughed at the bitter irony. The priests were right. God
was
just,
and punishment for sin appropriate and sometimes swift. Then quietly, as gently
as possible, she told her sister how she imagined it would be to share a
marriage bed with Robert de Langley.