Virginia Henley (39 page)

The next morning, two half-drowned men-at-arms emerged from The Fens; one dragged the other, who suffered two broken legs. They insisted on speaking with Lady Roseanna before their injuries were tended. Her heart in her throat, she whispered, “You have news?”

“My lady, our news is terrible! The army took the Fen Road that leads along the shores of The Wash to the Port of Lynn. The wind was strong enough to blow the clothes off your back and cold enough to freeze the bones of the dead in their graves. The worst of the storm came up as we crossed the River Nene. It was a nightmare, flipping small boats over and drowning men and horses. The King and young Tristan were away safe on the first ship and the King’s brother Richard and Henry Percy on the second; but the hardest task was getting the horses aboard. Lord Ravenspur stayed to the last, doing the impossible as usual. But my lady, he went down ’neath that great white stallion. He didn’t stand a chance. Both of ’em are drowned, my lady. Saw it with our own eyes, we
“No!” Her wail was heard in the farthest corners of Ravenspur; the servants came running in time to see her crumple to the floor. Kate Kendall immediately took charge and put her to bed. As she came up out of the blackness, she fought it to return to oblivion, for she knew full consciousness held something she could not face. She cried nonstop for three days, until her milk upset her baby son. Then she got a tight grip on herself for his sake.

Rebecca came to stay with her and found their roles were now reversed. Roseanna walked around like someone in a trance. Quietly she sought out Mr. Burke. “There’s no one else I can ask, Mr. Burke. Would you go into The Fens and try to find him?”

James Burke picked two stout stablehands and set out immediately. It took them two days to locate the scene of the disaster. In the end, it was the stench and the cry of the scavenging sea birds that led them to the bodies. It was easy to identify the body of the white Arabian stallion, but the bloated bodies of the drowned men were so decomposed that one could hardly be told from another. With superhuman effort, they half lifted the body of the horse. There, crushed beneath it, was what was left of the dark head of Ravenspur.

James Burke took the decision upon himself. They would take back no remains. He would not let her see or smell what had once been her well-beloved husband. When he returned, he took her into Roger’s library, where they could be private. His grave demeanor confirmed her worst fears.

“I found him,” he said quietly. “We buried him where he lay. It was impossible to bring him back through the waterlogged sedge and endless salt lands.”

A solitary tear rolled down Roseanna’s pale cheek. “How did you find him?” she choked.

“He lay beneath Mecca.”

Her eyes glazed over, and he could tell she had drifted into the past, where she spent most of her waking hours these days. He quietly left her to her ghosts.

Finally, Kate Kendall had had enough. She put pen to paper and wrote out a message to Joanna, Lady Castlemaine:

In her chamber Roseanna stood listlessly as Kate helped her don a black silk mourning gown. Alice took up the brush to tend her mistress’s hair. Roseanna spoke plaintively as her son lay crying in his cradle: “Why does the baby cry so much lately?”

Kate compressed her lips in annoyance, then spoke up in her most caustic tone. “He cries because you neglect him! You’re not the first woman to lose her man, nor will you be the last. All this belongs to that child now, and he needs someone strong to administer it for him, not some pathetic shadow that feels sorry for itself!”

The words stabbed into her heart like the talons of a bird of prey. “Kate, how could you?” she whispered.

Kate sniffed and gave Alice a sign to follow her from the room. She would leave her alone to think about the accusations she had just hurled at her.

Roseanna went to the cradle, picked up the baby, and, holding him against her heart, crooned a soothing lullaby. She had fed him earlier, but she had not picked him up to cuddle him the last few days. She smiled down at him through her tears, seeing a small replica of Roger, and she whispered to him what was in her heart. “I’m sorry, my darling. I love you more than life itself. I promise I will be the best mother the world has ever known.”

She talked to him and hummed and became so absorbed in what she was doing that the world receded. The baby slept contentedly. As she put him into the cradle, she gradually became aware of someone screaming and crying far below. The commotion was muted, yet Roseanna was vaguely annoyed at the racket. How dared they disturb her? Didn’t they know this household was in mourning? She hurried down two flights to the main reception hall, and her heart sank as she recognized George, Duke of Clarence. He was having a furious altercation with Mr. Burke, whose cheek, Roseanna was horrified to see, had been slashed by the riding crop that the King’s brother carried. She could hear Alice’s voice begging, and Kate Kendall was shouting profanities in an adjoining room.

Roseanna strode past the duke and flung open the door. Two of George’s gentlemen had stripped Alice naked, and a third was holding Kate Kendall immobile from behind.

Roseanna spun around furiously to face George. “Stop them instantly! That girl is a virgin!”

George drawled, “Where would be the sport if she were not virgin?” but he held up his hand for his men to leave off their game. Kate led a sobbing Alice from the room.

Furiously, Roseanna ordered, “You will leave my home at once! We are in mourning here.”

“And you have no man to protect you,” George finished smoothly. “Therefore I am taking you under my royal protection.”

“You are not King yet,” she pointed out bluntly.

“I am King in name; it lacks only the crowning. Therefore, little girl, it would be in your best interest to please me, for with a mere lift of my hand I can do anything I desire.”

“Piffle!” she disdained, her own royal blood boiling over.

His eyes narrowed. “All titles conferred by Edward are null and void. Therefore your little Viscount Gainsborough is viscount no more.”

She gasped. “You cannot do that!”

He smiled and said silkily, “It is done.” He knew by her reaction that he had chosen the perfect means to gain his desires, namely her son.

“What do you want here?” she cried.

He spread his hands. “We only ask a little hospitality— guest rooms for the night, a meal, a little wine, somewhere where you and I can converse in private.”

Quietly she gave orders to the servants to prepare the rooms and a special dinner. In the meantime they were to be given the best that Ravenspur’s wine cellars could provide.
“If you would follow me, Your Grace,” she said coolly, and led the way to Ravenspur’s library.

Slowly he took a turn around the room, picking up art objects and setting them down again. “I am beginning to realize the extent of Ravenspur’s wealth. I had to go into debt for my needs over the years.”

She made no comment. He was adorned in white satin and diamonds, and she knew in that instant that he would indulge himself no matter what the cost to others.

“Your son is the new Baron of Ravenspur. I am considering making him a ward of the crown so that I can administer his estates.”

“No!” she cried, her hand going to her throat.

“Everything rests in your hands, my sweet Roseanna. Please me, and I will increase your son’s lands and titles tenfold. Spurn me, and I will have him removed from this household!”

The blackmail threat enveloped her; no matter which way her mind turned to escape him, she was caught securely in his web. Suddenly she heard the voice of Rebecca cry out in anguish.

“Do not let them harm my sister-in-law,” she begged.

“She’s not a virgin, I believe?” he drawled.

“Stop them!” she implored him.

“I have already told you—it is in your hands, little girl. Only say that you will come to me tonight, and everyone in your household, including your son, will be safe from harm.”

“I will come to you,” she promised softly.

Roseanna bade Kate mix a sleeping draught for Rebecca and told her to put an abortifacient in it to be on the safe side; Rebecca was hysterical and refused to say what the men had done to her. Then Roseanna sought
out Mr. Burke and examined his facial laceration. “Do not provoke them, Mr. Burke. I will take care of the duke’s needs. Pray God they will be gone tomorrow.”

He looked at her with anguished eyes. “If only there were something I could do to aid you, my lady.”

“There is. I want you to bury the gold plate the Queen sent for my son’s christening. Then get Roger’s coffers to a safe place where they will not be found. I must hide my good jewels, for mark my words, Mr. Burke, he will have everything from me before he is satisfied.”

She did not dine with her guests but bathed in the privacy of her room. Then she put on a simple warm white velvet robe with wide sleeves, poured a goblet full of pale golden Chablis, and sipped it slowly to calm her nerves. She told herself bravely,
I am more of a woman than he is a man! I shall emerge victorious from this encounter!

When the dregs of the wine cup were drained, she took a deep breath and went to George’s bedchamber. He had been drinking most of the afternoon, and his face was flushed from the wine. It had loosened his tongue, and she noted with disgust that his conversation was coarse.

“Welcome, little girl. You’ll not regret it, for I have the biggest cock in England.”

She lowered her lashes to her cheeks, lest he see the fear in her eyes. He reached out long fingers to toy with her nipples beneath the robe. “Your breasts are magnificent,” he said thickly. Where he rubbed her nipples, two tiny wet spots became visible on the bodice of the velvet robe. His eyes dilated and his organ swelled and hardened.

He took her hand and placed it on his groin to give her an idea of his unusual size. He whispered, “I won’t be
satisfied until I’ve put my yard up you more times than my brother.”

She knew he was obsessed with his brother the King. She wanted to cry out that Edward was her father, not her lover, but she dared not. If he knew her child was Edward’s grandson, he would take not only his lands but his life.

George pulled her to the bed. He quickly disrobed and lay back awaiting her. She had expected him to fall upon her and ravage her, so this behavior surprised and alarmed her. It would be worse than she had imagined if he expected her to service him. She stood quietly by the bed, gathering her courage for what had to be faced.

“I’m waiting, little girl,” he said in a menacing tone, narrowing his eyes.

Slowly she removed her robe and knelt upon the bed. She looked at his sex organ with alarm. It was enormous. Using the coarsest language, he told her in shocking detail what he wanted her to do to him.

As she knelt down to him, her silken hair swept forward like a curtain to cover her shame. Suddenly his hand shot out to grab her hair in a cruel grip. “You intended to bite me, didn’t you?”

She offered no denial but quickly veiled the triumph in her eyes lest it incense him further. He got off the bed and ordered her to kneel at its edge. He came up from behind her and tried to enter her. Roseanna had had no experience of what it was that he attempted.

“Christ Almighty, you’ve never been initiated—you’re too small!” he ground out. Frustrated in everything he desired, he flipped her flat onto her back and ordered thickly, “Spread yourself!” He thrust inside her cruelly until she thought she would burst. “Respond to me!” he
ordered. Then his avid mouth fastened onto her breast and he sucked her milk from her. Once he’d satisfied his cruel desires, he fell into a stupor.

Later that night, Roseanna sat in the window embrasure. She was too numb to feel or think. George roused in the great bed.

“What are you doing over there?” he demanded.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she murmured.

“If you cannot sleep, I haven’t used you enough. Come back to bed.”

In the morning she escorted the duke and his gentlemen to the stables. She wanted to see with her own eyes that he had quit the place. His greedy eyes fell upon the white mares. “Are these Arabians?” he asked.

“No, sire. They are bred by the Cistercian monks at the Abbey of Jervaulx.”

“I have a fancy for them,” he said smoothly.

“These are only mares. I’m sure if you visited the abbey, you would find the stallions more to your taste.”

“Perhaps,” he temporized. “Next time I visit you, little girl, perhaps you will be generous enough to gift me with the mares.”

The mares meant a great deal to her, especially since they had all been bred to Mecca, but she heard only the words
next time I visit you.

She reached her bedchamber on shaky legs. As Kate came toward her with the baby, she cried, “Don’t bring me the child while I’ve the stink of that pig on me. Get me a bath, Kate!” She scrubbed herself until her skin was raw, and she would not come out of the water until Kate said, “The shame is his, not yours, Roseanna.”

“You are right, of course, Kate. I have no time to waste in this fashion. I must be up and about, making
plans to protect my son. I’m going to have to wean him, Kate. I must place him where he will be safe, and that may not be at my side.” She donned a black mourning gown and went briskly around, giving her household orders. In the midst of all this, her mother arrived.

“Kate, what lies have you been telling me that Roseanna was half dead, walking around in a trance?” asked Joanna.

“I’ve had a rude awakening,” said Roseanna caustically. She took her mother up to a bedchamber close to her own and told her everything that had happened, leaving out no detail. “I want you to take my son to Castlemaine. That isn’t out of George’s reach, but Ned won’t be nearly as vulnerable. Take Alice back with you, and I would appreciate it if you also took Rebecca and her little girl. Tristan will never forgive me if I don’t keep them out of harm’s way.”