All that remained was to discuss the defense of the castle, and it became plain as Brodeur explained his plans that he had already put his men and machines on a war footing. The armory had been replenished, and weapons sharpened. Preparations were underway to provide accommodation within the safety of the walls for peasants dislodged from the cottages around the castle, along with their livestock.
Bonhomme explained in detail the extra food, wood and water he’d gathered in anticipation of a siege. “Montbryce has never fallen into enemy hands,” he declared, “and it’s not going to happen on my watch.”
Alex didn’t like to mention the castle had never come under attack, thanks in large measure to the uncanny ability of his ancestors to remain in the good graces of those in power—no easy feat in the quicksands of Norman politics. But his heart swelled with pride. “I thank you all for your loyalty,” he told them, acknowledging they’d accomplished all they had without his leadership.
“It’s the right decision,” Romain said. “Every man here knows it. We’re fortunate that Maud and Geoffrey didn’t visit us as we feared they would, or they might have caught wind of our preparations.”
Bradick Ronan stroked his beard. “Word from Alensonne is they took the road in the opposite direction when they left our castle.”
Alex shook his head. “I suspect the Plantagenets stayed away precisely because they anticipated our defection. I’ve sent riders to officially inform Maud of my decision, wherever she may have gone, but they have spies everywhere and were probably already plotting an attack.
“We will discuss the kind of action we expect. Laurent, you’ll send a bird to Gallien in England. Hopefully, it won’t get to a point where we need his help, but he has Stephen’s ear.”
He put a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder. “I want you to take a contingent of men and travel to King Stephen at Westminster as my emissary. He knows you and will have confidence in our change of allegiance.”
Laurent frowned. “I will not.”
Alex was taken aback. “But—”
“Non, you misunderstand. I will gladly go as the emissary, but with only two men to accompany me.”
“Out of the question. That leaves you vulnerable.”
Bradick Ronan laughed. “Me and my son are Laurent’s chosen companions. Three men can travel fast. Otherwise—”
Alex recognized the stubborn jut of his cousin’s chin. “Very well.”
He turned to address the group. “Vigilance is the key, and we must know our strategy and that of our enemy,” he declared, feeling much more confident than when he’d first walked into the Chart Room after the hurried journey from his sister’s home. “But I would hear you swear now, for King Stephen and Montbryce.”
“For King Stephen and Montbryce,” they shouted in unison, fists thrust into the air.
ELAYNE BECKONED HER CHILDREN to sit either side of her on the bed, even at this last moment unsure how to explain the new realities to them. She spread her arms around their shoulders, wishing forlornly that was all that would be necessary to protect them. How could infants be expected to understand the sometimes deadly games adults played?
To this point she’d managed to allay their fears by treating their situation as a game, a charade. Playing the role of grandchildren to King Dabíd wasn’t hard—that’s what they were. Illegitimacy and its implications meant nothing to them.
She glanced over at Faol, lying across the threshold of the door, snoring contentedly. The dog had finagled his way into the chamber, but accepted he was expected to remain at the doorway. She wondered absently how long it would be before the animal was sleeping on the children’s bed.
Yawning, Claricia leaned into her. “Ye’re sad, maman.”
She kissed the top of her daughter’s head. “Part of me is sad, but part of me is happy too.”
The child looked up at her. “I understand. Part of me is sad that I canna be with Rosetta any more, but part of me is happy that she’s my friend.”
Elayne swallowed the lump in her throat. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so hard after all. “I want ye both to listen very carefully.”
She got up, scooted them closer together, then knelt before them, holding their hands. “The comte has decided to change his allegiance.”
Henry and Claricia’s confusion was plain to see. Why couldn’t she get her scattered thoughts together? “Alexandre has broken his oath to Maud.”
Henry frowned. “Why?”
Claricia extracted her hand from her mother’s and put both hands on her hips as she turned to look at her brother. “Because he’s angry that Maud chained us,” she declared, as if speaking to a nincompoop.
Henry clenched his jaw. “But that’s nay reason to—”
As the squabble continued, Elayne fought for calm. “Listen. Alexandre believes Stephen is a better person to be King of the English.”
Henry nodded. “I never met Maud, but I didna like being chained, and she demanded hostages. That made grandpapa angry.”
The edges of Claricia’s mouth edged down. “What will grandpapa do now?”
Elayne inhaled deeply. “I dinna ken, but we canna worry about that. What we do know is that Maud and Geoffrey may attack Montbryce Castle.”
“Because we’re here?” Henry asked, his eyes wide.
Claricia’s lip trembled. “I’m frightened, maman. Will Maud kill us if she captures us?”
Elayne couldn’t lie, but she could make them more hopeful. She climbed back onto the bed, gathering her children to her. “Maud and Geoffrey will want this castle in revenge. Alexandre will protect his lands at all costs. Maud will never take it. We’re safe here.”
As her frightened children clung to her, she only hoped she was right.
Henry looked at his sister. “Dinna worry, Claricia, we have Faol. He will protect us.”
ALEX DELAYED HIS VISIT TO THE CRYPT beneath Montbryce’s chapel as long as possible, but his feet eventually led him there.
Arrayed before him were the tombs of his grandparents. Ram and Mabelle de Montbryce had lived most of their lives in England, but Normandie was their rightful final resting place.
Beyond lay the tombs of his great-grandparents Bernard and Antoinette, and those of his oncle Baudoin and tante Carys.
He nodded reverently to all these ancestors as he placed his torch in the stanchion. But it was before the tombs of his parents that he knelt in supplication, his head bowed. “I am confident you approve of my decision, Papa, Maman.”
There was no outward sign, only silence in the flickering light, but the proof Robert de Montbryce was at peace with his son’s decision blossomed like a fragrant rose in Alex’s heart.
He’d always shared personal thoughts with his mother; she’d be content he’d met a woman who could heal his frozen heart. But now he felt at ease speaking openly to his father. “Elayne has helped me understand you better. Forgive me for the wasted years.”
He laid a hand on the sarcophagus as he rose from the stone floor, startled to feel warmth in the limestone.
Close to tears, he made the sign of the crucifix across his body. “I miss your good counsel,” he rasped. “But I know you are both watching over us.”
He retrieved the torch and slowly mounted the steps to the chapel.
Speech
A SENNIGHT LATER, serfs posted as lookouts in the outer reaches of the apple orchards raised the first alarm after espying a large force of mounted men and carts approaching in the distance. This early warning gave time for the villagers, who’d been prepared to move at a moment’s notice, to gather their belongings and herd their livestock within Montbryce’s sturdy walls.
“Everything has gone according to plan, Bonhomme,” Alex declared from atop the battlements as the first soldiers of the unwelcome army appeared on the fringes of the meadow. “Less than a half hour.”
Romain patted Bonhomme’s back. “Why are we not surprised, since it was your plan?”
The Montbryce men-at-ar
ms standing near enough to overhear voiced their heartfelt agreement. A ripple of approval ran through the ring of armed men assembled atop the walls as the word was passed.
The Steward’s face reddened slightly. “Took a lot of practice,” was all he said.
“That’s exactly why there was no panic,” Alex added, thankful once again for Bonhomme’s efficiency.
“How many?” Romain asked, looking out.
“At least two hundred,” Alex replied, “and more streaming through the orchards.”
“We can assume it’s Geoffrey, then?”
“Oui, though I don’t see him. I surmise they plan to set up an encampment on the outer edge of the apple orchards.”
Shouts and sounds of mallets pounding pegs into the ground echoed across the meadow as the enemy soldiers in the far off field labored to erect tents and pavilions. Alex and Romain watched for more than an hour until a thick bank of fog rolled in, obscuring their view.
“Merde,” Romain exclaimed. “It’s going to be impossible to tell how many they are.”
Alex shared his brother’s frustration. “Judging by the number of tents, he’s planning to stay a while. We could attack, but I can’t send the men into a trap. He might have hundreds more than we’ve seen so far. Some reports claim he and Maud have raised an army of thousands, others dispute that.”
Bonhomme cleared his throat. “Mes seigneurs, perhaps we should say some words of reassurance.”
Alex turned to look down into the bailey, where a crowd of serfs, peasants, servants, and soldiers had gathered, worry and uncertainty writ plain on every face.
“Indeed. Thank you, Bonhomme.”
It was important to allay the fears of his people, who might face months of being cooped up in the castle while Geoffrey and Maud laid siege. Though all knew the reason for the presence of Geoffrey’s army, some might not approve of his actions and dissension could eventually cause problems of discontent.
“Villagers of Montbryce, I applaud the brave manner in which you arrived here, with your livestock.”
A goat bleated. Snickers of amusement drifted up from the crowd.
“I laud the servants of this castle, men and women, who have made room here for those who’ve been displaced. Some of you may be living in close quarters, but you won’t be out in the cold.”
Murmurs of agreement.
“Your ever faithful steward has made sure we have plenty of food, wood and water and there will be enough to last a long time if everyone takes their fair share.”
Nods, grunts, a few smiles now.
“However, I do not anticipate that we will be cooped up like this long. You are well aware of the army we garrison here. Montbryce is protected by the best trained and bravest soldiers in all of Normandie.”
It had been so since the terrible time of his parents’ kidnapping.
“Capitaine Brodeur has equipped an armory fit for a king’s army. The day will come when Geoffrey of Anjou will sorely regret tangling with us.”
Loud cheers resulted.
“Nothing good ever came from Anjou,” someone shouted.
“What was King Henry thinking, marrying off his girl to an Angevin?” another yelled.
Alex was glad of the determination he now saw on their faces, but he held up his hand. The crowd quieted.
“It’s true Normans and Angevins have long been enemies, and Geoffrey is laying siege to this castle for one reason only. He wants to rule Normandie, just as he thirsts to rule England.
“But I believe Stephen of Blois, grandson of our great Conqueror, is a better man and a better king, and I will protect this castle and the people in it against those who would challenge his rule. Go now, and have confidence in these soldiers.”
“And in our comte,” a voice declared.
“Long live Comte Alexandre,” many shouted as they dispersed.
Romain slapped him on the back as he let out a long, slow breath. “Well done, mon frère, best speech you ever made.”
Alex laughed. “It’s the only speech I’ve ever made.”
ELAYNE, HENRY AND FAOL lingered in the shadows just inside the doors to the Keep, out of sight but not out of earshot of Alexandre’s voice.
Pride swelled in her heart. Henry turned around and beamed at her. “He’ll nay allow this castle to be taken,” her son declared.
Faol barked his agreement.
Elayne had to believe it was true. If they fell into Maud’s hands, they would be exposed as imposters. Alexandre’s castle was their sanctuary.
She took deep breaths, trying to calm her nervous heart. A troubling thought occurred. If Alexandre took her to wife, he would never be expected to give them up to Maud, and she would have to accept that. They would be safe—forever.
But did he want marriage? Or was he content to have her as his mistress, now he knew she was of noble birth? Was there a reason he’d never married? He desired her, of that she was certain, but a Norman nobleman wouldn’t want to be saddled with another man’s children, though it was evident he cared for Henry and Claricia.
If she broached the subject, he might think she was only concerned for her children’s future, which was true, but how to convince him she loved him?
ALEX HEARD FAOL’S BARK. The dog wasn’t far away, which meant Henry was close by, and probably his mother. His body warmed at the possibility she’d heard him address the crowd.
He had no doubt that if Elayne was already his Comtesse, she’d have been up there on the battlements with him, encouraging her people.
It was a lightning bolt. What was he waiting for? Why hadn’t he asked her to be his wife? It was the surest way to make sure she stayed out of Maud’s clutches. And she was a widow, the children fatherless.
He caught sight of Elayne and Henry entering the bailey. Henry waved.
He hesitated. She might think he was asking simply to save her and the children, or because she’d refused to become his mistress, when the truth was he craved her every minute of every day.
Did she feel the same?
His body was on fire for her, but he thirsted also for the peace she brought to his soul. He saw himself in a completely different light when he was with her. He was the Alexandre his parents believed him to be. Alexandre the Great.
Pledging
THE FOG CLUNG TO THE MEADOW for a sennight, muffling sounds and rendering it impossible to ascertain the numbers of enemy troops camped on Montbryce lands.
The future seemed shrouded in uncertainty, but Alex became more and more sure Elayne was his destiny.
He requested her presence in his solar one afternoon, determined to leave there as a betrothed man. While he waited, he cast his mind back to the day he’d planned to ask her to be his mistress. That had been nerve-wracking. This was torture. If she said no—
But why would she?
She tapped lightly on the open door and he bade her enter. Her smile warmed his heart and hardened his body. “You sent for me, my lord?”
He took her hand. “Please, call me Alex. I am not your lord—”
She cast him a brief glance that gave him hope.
“—though I would like to be.”
She studied the floor, scattering his fledgling hopes like sparrows startled out of their nest by the hawk.
Still holding her hand, he sat in his favorite chair and pulled her onto his lap, molding her to his chest. He kissed her neck. She was a widow, a woman who had lain with a man, borne his children. There was no point pretending she was a coy virgin and he an untried youth. He pushed his hips up gently so his arousal pressed into her derrière. “Don’t fight me, Elayne. You can feel what you do to me. I’m on fire for you.”
She relaxed a little. “Men are easily aroused by a woman’s body. I understand that. It’s different for us.”
It became clearer to him what kind of marriage she’d had, but the aroma of her arousal filled his nostrils. She wanted him. He traced a fingertip over the back of her hand. “Are you not attracted to me?
”
She tried to get off his lap, but he held firm. “I will not be like your first husband, Elayne. I will love and cherish you and do everything in my power to make you happy.”
She stared at him. “You’re asking me to marry you?”
He laughed at his own ineptness. “Oui, I got ahead of myself. I planned to give you a flowery speech, but I am so anxious to make you my wife, I blurted it out.” He nuzzled her warm neck. “Please say yes.”
“But what about Henry and Claricia?”
“I will love them as my own children. I already do, you know that.”
“But what will your people say—marrying a Scot?”
“Everyone at Montbryce thinks the world of you and your children. They recognise a good comtesse when they see one. They’ve witnessed your courage.”
He took her hand. “Why are you hesitating? You know I love you. Will you consent to be my wife, oui or non?”
ALEX’S UNMISTAKABLY HARD MALENESS beneath her bottom sent rivers of longing flowing through her. Marriage to a man she loved, a man she craved. It was too good to be true. She trailed her fingertips over the back of his hand—strong, male, so different from her own. How good it would feel to have those fingers touching intimate places that had never known the sweet caress of a lover.
But doubt insinuated itself into her thoughts. “You’re not asking me to marry you simply because you think it’s the only way to save us from Maud?”
“You know that’s not true. You’re the one who is going to save me—from myself. I need you.”
“But Claricia and Henry will never take their rightful place—”
Her own empty words echoed in her head. How foolish to think King Dabíd would ever bestow upon her children the recognition they merited. In the Scottish court they would always be bastards, objects of ridicule and gossip. Alexandre would give them love, a place of honor, though they’d never be his heirs. “I am a fool,” she murmured.
Jeopardy (The Montbryce Legacy Anniversary Edition Book 10) Page 10
