The King's Mistress (16 page)

“My lady, if you tell me which you would like to examine, I will take it down for you,” Brother David said.

“Truly? I may read one?” Her hand did move on its own then to touch the first book she'd seen. Homer's
Iliad.

“Abbot Godfrey said you may read any that you wish.”

She gasped as the monk stepped past her and lifted the large book from its place. She moved out of his way and followed him as he placed it on a table. He motioned for her to sit and she did so quickly, not wanting to miss this opportunity. During her education, she had read tracts from manuscripts and selections from the great philosophers and writers, but she had never seen a complete collection like this one. 'Twas far too costly even for her wealthy father's coffers.

The pages were covered with beautifully-formed words and colorful illustrations ringed the edges, telling in pictures what the words said. Achilles' last stand against the warriors of Troy. The Trojan war that decimated Troy and cost so many Greek and
Trojan lives. Helen, the most beautiful woman of all time.

She looked around the room once more, not daring to believe that she was in the center of so many exquisite pieces of literature. Brother David stood next to her and then she realized that Edmee still stood at the door.

“Come, Edmee,” she said, waving her maid to her side. “Let me read some of this to you.”

“You read Greek, my lady?” the monk asked.

“Aye, Brother, I do. Can you?”

“Nay. I have a fair talent in Latin, but not Greek,” he said with a shameful tone. “Although the abbot hopes I will learn, I do not think there is enough time in the rest of my life to gain the skills needed.”

“Do you read French or Norman or only English?”

“Language has always been my downfall, lady. Now, I can do wonders with columns of numbers, but letters all jumble together for me.”

She laughed. She knew her skills were unusual and even more unusual for a woman, but 'twas the best part of all she endured in training to be the consort of a king. Her father had once quipped that her education rivaled even that of the queen and she took pride now in what she had mastered, for whatever the reason.

“Would it bother you if I read some of this out loud? I have not practiced my Greek in years and now I have two opportunities in one hour.”

“No, my lady. My task was to be at your service today so it will be as you wish.”

Tears filled her eyes for she knew that Orrick had arranged this for her. How did he pick out the most important things among so many little details? He never revealed this to her when convincing her to accompany him here for his business—he simply touted the chance to explore the lands away from Silloth and to see what she had missed on the journey north. After months in only keep and yard, she felt ready to look over the lands that he owned or managed with the abbey.

Edmee sat at her side and the monk took a seat in a high-backed chair next to the table and Marguerite opened to the first page and began reading the tale in English, both to practice her skills and so that the brother would understand.

Two hours later, when Orrick came seeking her, her companions were asleep but she read on.

“H
ow did you know?”

“Know what, lady?”

“My weakness.”

He took a step closer and leaned down to her. “'Tis always a sound strategy to know your opponent's strengths and weaknesses.”

“And am I your opponent?” she asked, not turning her head or meeting his gaze. The room suddenly felt much smaller as though the shelves had moved in toward them and the ceiling had shrunk from its original height.

“I thought so when first we met,” he said, his deep voice sending chills down her neck where his breath tickled the skin. “But I learned quickly that you presented yourself with your own worst challenges.”

Now she did turn to him, sliding on the bench to put some room between them. How did he have such a canny sense about people? “What do you mean?”

“Your first days here you were in the defensive
position, among strangers without knowledge of what forces were against you, no idea of your allies or enemies. Pretending not to know our language was an intelligent move on your part.”

It was odd to hear her behavior explained in such terms, but she conceded that he did describe her first days clearly.

“But then you made a critical error and went on the offensive. Do you comprehend what I mean?”

The night she seduced him. Her first downfall with him. She nodded and waited for his words, feeling the heat of a blush enter her cheeks. Memories of him and his touch still haunted her from that night.

“'Twas on my journey back from here that I realized that you were your own worst enemy.”

“I do not think I like that description.”

“I would think not, but is it accurate?”

Marguerite fell silent thinking on his words. Damn him, he was right! Forced to admit it, she met his eyes and found that glint of humor in their green depths.

“Mayhap…” That was all she was willing to offer in the way of an admission.

“You were familiar with court intrigues and not prepared for those who would be direct and not stab you in the back. My people know only their existence here and have never been exposed to the kind of life you have lived. Even when they insulted you, they did it within your hearing.”

His men. She swallowed as she thought on his punishment of them for their insults. He reached out and lifted a stray curl from her face.

“I do not think your actions are so straightforward now, my lord,” she accused. “I think you have alternate intentions than simply coming here to complete your business with the abbot. Intentions that concern me.”

He stood and pulled her up to stand. Although she feared looking up into his face, he guided her chin with his hand. She found herself clutching his tunic to steady herself.

“In the spirit of this holy establishment, I will freely confess my intentions toward you. I want you as my wife and I will do whatever is necessary to make you stay. By fair means or foul….”

Part of her thrilled to his nearness, to the unspoken promise within his words. In spite of everything he knew about her, in spite of everything that had happened between them, he still pursued her as though she had personal worth. As though she mattered. That thought gave her pause. She had always mattered to some man for the wealth or power she brought. 'Twas never really her.

Had she yet learned not to trust the promises of men in search of all she brought with her? Orrick had been clear about his desire to bed her. He gained new titles and land with their marriage. Were these attempts to lure her into a true marriage simply his efforts to keep all that he now possessed? Did it demonstrate his unwillingness to part with the wealth rather than with her?

“Why do you want me? For the land? For the wealth promised by Henry if you took me as wife? So, you are like the ones who came before?”

Hurt filled his eyes, but he did not relinquish his hold on her or her gaze. “'Twould be the easiest explanation of my actions, would it not? Is that what you believe?”

“I cannot, I do not, trust my instincts any longer, my lord. They have failed me so consistently that I no longer consider them reliable.”

“What would you trust, then? Would the words of a holy brother be enough to convince you? Mayhap you will read the wording of the marriage contracts and see the truth?” He clenched his jaws.

He began to pull away from her, but something inside made her stop him. Grasping at him, she held him close. “Tell me your truth, Orrick. Tell me your intentions and reasons. Make me believe.” 'Twas a desperate plea from a woman needing a reason to believe that she mattered. She could hear it in her own voice.

“Upon our marriage, I took control of several profitable estates that bordered my lands. Although I have power over those lands, the profits go to you to be used as you see fit. You can keep the gold or donate it, as you wish. Abbot Godfrey is the administrator of your wealth. So you see, part of the reason behind this journey is so that you might consult with him on the disposition of your wealth.”

She gasped. This was unheard of. A woman with her own fortune? Gold to spend as she wished?

“If an annulment ends this marriage, I keep control of the lands and the income is split evenly between us.”

“I do not understand,” she said. “To what pur
pose is the contract worded so? How did you agree to something like that?” Her voice grew louder and Brother David let out a snore and shifted in his chair, before settling back to sleep. “Did the abbot not counsel you against signing such a document?” she whispered. When he smiled, she realized she was aggrieved on his behalf for her gains.

“When the king orders you to something, 'tis wiser not to refuse him. I believe he was more interested in protecting you than 'twould appear at first by his actions.”

It felt as though her legs were gone and it was only his embrace that kept her standing. This news was shocking, both in its details and in its plan. An annulment would give him gold yet he did not want it? And staying married benefited her, not only in the life he offered, but also directly by putting gold into her hands. Yet he encouraged that. Why?

She decided that it was time to press for the rest of it—he had never answered her original question. The facts he presented had only raised more questions.

“Why, Orrick? Why do you want me?”

He took a breath in and let it out. “Do you remember when you accused me of teasing you over the importance of first love? You thought I made light of those special feelings you bear for Henry.”

She shook her head. Thoughts of love for Henry seemed so very far away at this moment, but she remembered Orrick's words spoken to her on the roof of the Silloth Keep.

“I know the pain of an unrequited first love, Marguerite.”

“Some woman has turned away from your soft feelings toward her? Surely not Ardys?”

He touched his hand to her cheek and then brought his lips down on hers. After a single kiss, he drew back and smiled sadly at her.

“In spite of knowing your heart and your body have been given to someone else, I have fallen in love with you, Marguerite. You are the first woman I have loved and I know the pain you feel over your loss of Henry, for I live every day with the disappointment of not having your love.”

Her throat tightened and she could not say a word. Tears filled her eyes and threatened to spill over.

“Here now, I did not mean to ruin this occasion for you. I hope you liked the surprise I arranged?” He released her and took a few steps from her side. “There is still at least another hour of daylight. Why do you not take advantage of it while I finish more work with Godfrey? Then we will make our way to the house for an evening meal.”

She sensed he was running from her and from his admission to her, but she was so overwhelmed, she could do nothing to stop him. Marguerite nodded and Orrick walked quickly from the room.

The more she learned about him, the more of an enigma he became. Every time she thought to be gaining some understanding about him—even about herself—he turned it inside out. The man to whom she gave her all tossed her aside and the man who
she continued to vex and who stood to gain more from her leaving wanted her to stay.

It made no sense. None at all.

Brother David roused just then from his nap and he stretched and stood. “Your pardon, my lady. Your voice was so soothing that I confess to being lulled to sleep. Would you like to continue?”

Pushing away the confusion in her heart and in her thoughts, she decided not to waste the time that Orrick had given her. “Mayhap I could see that collection of remedies from the physician Dioscorides?
De Matera Medica.
There on the third shelf.”

She pointed to the large red leather-bound book she'd seen earlier. She thought there might be something of interest to Brother Wilfrid in it so she spent the rest of the time in the chamber leafing through the many herbal concoctions and medical facts reportedly spoken and written by the esteemed healer from ancient times.

Unfortunately, her thoughts continued to return over and over to the words wrung from Orrick—
In spite of knowing your heart and your body have been given to someone else, I have fallen in love with you….

 

“I was despairing of you finding an appropriate match, my lord.”

Orrick did not turn from staring out the window. He'd begun to think that telling Marguerite of the true feelings he held for her wasn't the good idea it had seemed to be. Gavin had urged him to disclose his love and he'd followed his friend's advice.

When Marguerite had pressed him for the reason behind his actions, actions that presented a loss to him in the things that mattered most to noblemen, he'd told her the truth. Even though she had made it clear that she was deeply unhappy here, he'd revealed his love and told her he would press his case to keep her. Now that pledge seemed foolhardy at best as his confidence that he could convince her to stay waned.

“Your lady mother, as well,” Godfrey continued.

That caught his attention. “You've spoken to my mother about my marriage?”

“Written to, not spoken to.” The monk nodded and smiled.

“Then you know of her opposition to Marguerite,” Orrick said, now turning to face the abbot.

“I did not sense opposition, Orrick. I sensed concern over the king's choice at first, but I do not believe she disapproves of your wife.”

Startled by the revelation that Godfrey communicated with his mother, and seemingly on some regular schedule, Orrick crossed the room to stand before Godfrey. “Of course she does!”

“Lady Constance agrees with me that Marguerite is a good match for you. You two share many traits in common and that can be the basis of a sound marriage.”

“I do not know how you can say that, Godfrey. Marguerite refuses to take her place as my wife and my mother has…”

He stopped and thought on his mother's opposition. She had only openly complained about Mar
guerite during that time when Marguerite's behavior was driving everyone mad. Lady Constance had requested that Marguerite take her rightful place as lady of Silloth and had tried to make her welcome. Mayhap she did not oppose this marriage?

“You are both intelligent, well-read, good spirited people. She has a wonderful mind for a woman, Orrick, and would be of great help to you in all aspects of running your estates.”

“If she wanted to stay.”

“What do you mean? 'Tis obvious to anyone watching you that you love each other. What reason could there be for her to leave?”

It hurt to admit failure, but if not to your confessor, then to whom could you? “She has a child by the king.”

Godfrey looked startled as he should at news of this seriousness. “I do not understand. A child?”

“'Tis a natural consequence of physical relations between a man and a woman,” he said dryly. He could hear the bitterness in his voice. “Now she will always be bound to him. As a result, she does not wish to continue in this marriage.”

“Orrick, marriage is a serious institution and obligation. She cannot simply decide not to be married.”

“As you said, Godfrey, she is intelligent. She knows that an annulment is the only way, and I have promised to gain your support for it.”

The abbot leaned his head into his hands and Orrick thought he could hear him swearing under his
breath. “You would risk your immortal soul by lying?”

“I promised her I would ask for your backing in this, Godfrey. She does not want to remain here as my wife.”

The monk slammed his hands down on the table and looked at him, glaring at him in a most unreligious manner. “In order to gain my support for this, you must be able to answer my questions truthfully and on pain of eternal damnation if you lie.”

“And your questions?” If it would bring her happiness, he would consider it.

“Do you wish to end this marriage?”

Orrick winced. No.

“Is there some link of affinity or consanguinity that is prohibited by God's laws?”

Orrick clenched his jaws. No.

“Did you agree to this marriage under false pretenses or at a time when you could not legally give your consent?”

Orrick turned away at that one since he and Godfrey had discussed the “pretenses” of the marriage in advance. In depth.

“One last question.”

Orrick tensed, knowing what was coming.

“Have you consummated this marriage?”

“Damn it, Godfrey! I do not want an annulment. I admit it to you.” Orrick paced the length of the chamber. “I have offered her all that I have and it is not enough.” Orrick sat on a stool and held his head in his hands. He felt the monk's hand on his shoulder and he looked up.

“I tell you that the woman who sat here a few hours ago loves you, Orrick. She is most likely battling with her feelings even as you are. I would counsel you to give this more time,” Godfrey urged. “Tell her I will take the matter under consideration. That should delay her enough to give her the time she needs to realize what is in her heart.”