Infamous

by Virginia Henley

  Warwick plucked the boot from her hand and, without a word, turned on his heel and quit the chamber.

  Jory sank into a chair with relief and stayed there until her breathing calmed. Now that the confrontation was over, she was amazed that she had summoned the courage to fling defiant, insulting words at the powerful earl whose temper was infamous. She arose and on shaky legs walked over to the damaged door. With difficulty she managed to get it almost closed, but saw that it could not be locked to make it secure until it had been repaired.

  She poured herself a goblet of wine and as she sipped it, her indignation increased. “I’ll not speak to the arrogant swine until he comes and begs my forgiveness!”

  As the afternoon shadows lengthened into evening she began to feel as if the room trapped her. The ridiculous part was that it was a trap of Jory’s own making. She knew she was perfectly free to leave, but perversely, she vowed that she would remain aloof in her own chamber even if she starved to death.

  Eventually, she decided she might as well go to bed. She undressed and hung her riding clothes in the wardrobe. Then she put on a night rail, covered it with a bed robe, and sat down to brush her hair. Her mouth curved with satisfaction as she heard a low knock on the unlocked door. She tossed her hair over her shoulders and shouted insolently, “Go to hellfire!”

  “It’s Meg, my lady.”

  Disappointment wiped the smile from Jory’s face. She went to the door, opened it wide enough for Meg to enter, then closed it again. She was about to take the servant to task for being Warwick’s willing spy, but thought better of it when she saw that Meg had brought her supper. Jory had more good sense than to bite the hand that fed her. “Thank you, Meg. Did he send you?”

  “No, my lady. He left the tower hours ago.”

  “I’ve never seen anyone in such a mad rage.”

  “I warned you that he could be a devil, my lady.”

  “Yes, you did. And this morning I told you I didn’t want to hear veiled hints and dire warnings…I’m sorry, Meg. I should have let you speak. I’m ready to listen now.”

  Meg set the tray down and took the chair that Jory indicated. “Lord Warwick’s second wife died in Arden Forest.”

  Jory’s hand flew to her throat. “I had no idea.”

  “They were riding in the forest and somehow she was trampled to death by a horse…his horse.”

  “God in heaven!”

  “The de Toeni family accused him of murder. They contended that it was impossible for a superb horseman like Warwick to lose total control of an animal he was riding.”

  He’s such a physically powerful man, no wonder they had doubts. “Was there trouble in the marriage?”

  Meg pressed her lips together. “I warrant there’s trouble in every marriage, my lady.”

  “I shouldn’t have asked you that.”

  “His wife’s death was ruled accidental. Lord Warwick was exonerated by the King’s Court.”

  “Thank you for telling me, Meg. It helps me to better understand what happened today.”

  After the serving woman departed, Jory sat quietly as vivid memories filled her thoughts. She recalled Warwick’s words when he had informed her that he’d had two wives and that both had died under suspicious circumstances: Dark whispers of murder have swirled about me for years. She had asked him if he denied the rumors and he had replied: No, I do not deny them. Both deaths were rightly laid at my door and I accept full blame.

  Jory shivered. “Even though he was exonerated, Guy still thinks himself guilty. He carries the burden every day.” Her heart went out to him. She could only imagine the horror he must have suffered, having his horse trample his wife to death.

  She felt cold all over and drank the soup that Meg had brought in hope that it would warm her. She had little appetite for the other food, however, and set it aside. She went to the door and listened carefully for any movement in the chamber below. When silence told her Guy had not yet returned to the master tower, she climbed into bed and wrapped her arms about a pillow, hoping it would dispel the loneliness of the night.

  Jory tossed restlessly for an hour, but eventually sleep overcame her and she drifted into a dream. It was tranquil at first as she wandered through a meadow filled with wildflowers. Then it changed and she realized someone was stalking her. She sought refuge in some nearby trees and suddenly her troubled dream turned into a full-fledged nightmare. A dark rider on a black horse was hunting her like prey. The trees became a thick forest and she knew there would be no escape. She cried out as her abductor swooped down and captured her, then carried her off.

  Jory opened her eyes and recognized her captor. “Guy…no!”

  “Hush, my honey love…Don’t be alarmed. I’m carrying you down to our bed, where you belong. I refuse to sleep without you.”

  The candles were lit in his chamber, and she saw his eyes were filled with tenderness. He slipped her into the wide bed and propped the pillows behind her. Then Guy sat down on the edge of the bed and took her hand.

  “My behavior was inexcusable today, but I do have an explanation.”

  “Meg told me what happened in Arden Forest. I’m so sorry.”

  His dark eyes searched her face. “Fear is a stranger to me, Jory. I’ve experienced it only once before. But today when I asked where you were and was told you had gone riding in Arden Forest, fear sank its fangs into my belly and threatened to tear out my heart. Raw fear turned me into a madman and I ask you to forgive me.”

  “I understand your anxiety. I won’t go there again.”

  “When you married me, sweetheart, I endowed you with all my worldly goods. You are the Countess of Warwick and Arden Forest is as much yours as it is mine. You may ride there anytime, so long as I am with you to protect you from the dangers. My men and I hunt there often, and you are welcome to join the hunt, so long as I am at your side.”

  “Guy, I give you my word that I won’t go there without you.”

  “This has nothing to do with your ability. You are an accomplished horsewoman and likely no harm would befall you in Arden Forest, but if it ever did, it would destroy me, Jory.”

  Guy snuffed the candles and joined her in the bed. He curved his powerful body around hers and tucked her head beneath his chin. He knew that he was overly possessive of her. She had eluded him once and it had taken almost five years to get her back. He silently vowed that he would never let it happen again.

  A month later Jory sat on the dais beside her husband in the Great Hall. She had conspired with Mr. Burke to arrange music for the evening meal. To her delight she had discovered that two of Warwick’s men-at-arms were accomplished minstrels. Just as they were taking their bows to great applause and whistles, Rickard de Beauchamp walked into the hall. The clapping was drowned out by shouts of welcome, and Warwick’s son raised his arm in acknowledgment. Rickard bounded up onto the dais and father and son wrapped their muscular arms about each other.

  Jory was amazed at the likeness between the two males. She had caught a glimpse of Guy’s son at Windsor when he was about fourteen years old and had known who he was because of his resemblance to his father, but now that he was a man, he was a young replica of Warwick.

  When Guy, with great pride, introduced his wife to his son, Rickard de Beauchamp brought Jory’s fingers to his lips, displaying the same innate French charm and gallantry as his father. “It is a delight and an honor to meet you, Lady Marjory. When I received Father’s letter telling me he had wed you, I wasn’t sure he was telling me the truth.”

  Jory’s smile was radiant. “And why is that, Sir Rickard?”

  “He told me years ago that he was about to wed Marjory de Warenne, the most exquisite lady at Windsor, but alas, it never came to pass. Now I see with my own eyes that you are not a figment of his imagination, and I applaud his good fortune.”

  The steward set a chair and a place for him next to his father. “Congratulations on your knighthood, Sir Rickard.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Bu
rke. It’s good to see you again.”

  “How long can you stay?” Guy asked.

  “Not long. I have much news. His Majesty’s health is not robust at the moment, so he gave nominal command of the army to Prince Edward and we are moving north with all speed. We arrived with the cavalry at Kenilworth today; the men-at-arms should arrive tomorrow. I rode over to bring you the news.”

  “He gave his son nominal command of the army?” Warwick said with disbelief. “What prompted such a serious lapse of judgment?”

  “It’s a long story, Father. It all began when Prince Edward suggested that the Province of Ponthieu be given to his favorite, Piers de Gaveston. It finally dawned on King Edward that his son’s relationship with Gaveston was immoral. His Majesty fell into a black rage and dragged Edward about the room by his hair. The king immediately banished Gaveston and told his son that he was negotiating to secure Isabella of France to be his bride. It is my conviction that Edward Plantagenet gave the prince nominal command of the army to make a man of him.”

  “Fat chance of that,” Warwick said bluntly. “But why is the army moving north? Has rebellion broken out again in Scotland?”

  “Didn’t you hear the news, Father? The king received word that Robert Bruce was crowned King of Scotland at Scone!”

  Jory’s pulse raced as she listened intently. Robert is King of Scotland, as he vowed! But for how long? The English will not rest until they hunt him down and pluck the crown from his head. There will be another war! Dear God, why do men lust for power?

  “The Bruce’s timing is most expedient,” Warwick declared. “The wily young devil knows Edward Plantagenet’s strength is at its lowest ebb and his days as England’s great warrior are numbered.”

  “Though His Majesty’s health prevents him from traveling with all speed, King Edward fully intends to join us at Carlisle.”

  “Who did he name head general of the army now that the Earl of Surrey has stepped down?” Warwick asked.

  “The Earl of Pembroke,” Rickard replied. “The king has issued him orders that all who have taken up arms with the Bruce must be killed and all prisoners are to be executed.”

  Jory gasped with alarm. “Why is the king so vengeful?”

  “It is open rebellion. It must be put down, my lady.”

  Guy glanced ruefully at his wife. “My son is eager to prove his skill as a warrior. He has not yet become jaded by war, as your brother, Lynx, and I have.”

  “You won’t refuse the king’s call to arms, Father?” Rickard asked with disbelief.

  “As a leading baron of this realm, I’ve spent my life pledging my sword to Edward Plantagenet. If and when he issues me a call to arms, I’ll consult with my fellow barons before I respond. I am in no hurry. My men and I have been back at Warwick for only a few months. I much prefer spending time with my wife than battling the Scots.”

  Later, when Guy and Jory retired, she could not hide her apprehension. “You cannot be happy that Rickard is on his way to Scotland to fight this endless war?”

  “I have few worries about his fighting skills. I trained him myself and he was a most adept pupil. Young knights need to prove themselves in battle and earn their spurs, my love.”

  “You once said that heroic and honorable war is an illusion. You said that war is bloody and brutal, the enemy vicious!”

  Guy’s eyes widened. “Is that why you are terrified of having a son, Jory? Because you dread him becoming a warrior?”

  I am terrified that he will grow up like his father—obsessed with obtaining a crown! “Yes! I hate the very thought of war. War is the reason I never knew my father. Guy, for many reasons I would be much happier if I had a daughter.”

  Warwick held her close to banish her fears and she soon fell asleep cradled in the security of his arms. In the middle of the night, however, Jory had a nightmare. She was running, running, determined to take the child she carried in her arms to safety. She desperately sought a place to hide and conceal herself and the baby, but there was no safe haven. Finally, she saw a tower and began to climb the stone steps. When she reached the top she found herself in a chamber standing between two dark powerful men. One was Warwick, the other was Robert Bruce. The King of Scotland, wearing a golden crown and wielding a bloody sword, spoke. “I have come for my son.”

  “Robert! No!”

  Guy bent over his sleeping wife and shook her gently to awaken her. “Jory, sweetheart, you are having a nightmare.”

  Her eyes flew open. She clung to her husband, buried her face against his chest, and began to weep softly with relief.

  “Hush, honey love, it was just a bad dream.” Warwick’s brows drew together. Who the devil is Robert?

  Chapter 22

  Early the next morning, when Jory looked from the tower window, she saw Rickard de Beauchamp strolling down to the River Avon. She realized this would likely be her only chance to speak to her husband’s son privately and decided to join him on his walk.

  She descended the tower steps as quickly as she could and took the path from the courtyard that led out to the riverbank. By the time Jory located him, he was on his way back. “Rickard,” she said breathlessly, “this is obviously one of your favorite haunts and I am sorry to intrude upon your solitude, but—”

  “Please don’t apologize, my lady. I am delighted that you sought me out.” Rickard took possession of Jory’s hand and lifted her fingers to his lips. “I am so happy that you finally gave in and consented to become the Countess of Warwick. It must have taken a deal of courage to ignore the vile, baseless rumors.”

  Jory’s eyes filled with compassion as she searched his face. “Your mother’s death must have been an horrific tragedy for you, but I believe with all my heart that it was an accident.”

  Rickard’s face became shadowed as if he were haunted by the memories. “It was an accident—but it was my accident, not my father’s. He swore me to secrecy, and I’ve kept the secret for seven long years, but I think you should know the truth about the man you married.” He took a deep breath and plunged in. “I was twelve when I heard rumors of my mother’s faithlessness. I followed her into Arden Forest, where she went to meet her lover. When they saw me, the man fled, and my mother rode toward me. That’s when all hell broke loose. A boar charged her horse and she fell from the saddle. My own horse reared up in fright and its hooves came down on her head. In a panic I tried to control my mount, but it continued to trample her. I feared she was dead and rode hell-for-leather to get my father. He ordered me to stay safe in the castle and went himself to aid my mother. He brought her body out and told everyone his horse had trampled her while they were hunting together. He swore me to silence, insisting I was too young to bear the stigma of killing my mother.”

  Tears flooded Jory’s eyes, and she swallowed the lump in her throat as she slipped her hand in Rickard’s. “Thank you for telling me the truth. I am infinitely sorry that such a nightmare had to happen.”

  “I beg that you never let my father know that I told you. What he did because of his deep love for me was noble and self-sacrificing, and we must never take that away from him.”

  “Rickard, you are truly your father’s son. It is no wonder that he is so proud of you.”

  After the midday meal, Rickard de Beauchamp took leave of his father to return to Kenilworth. “Congratulations on your marriage, Father. I wish you every happiness.”

  “Thank you, Rick. Take care of yourself. It is a damn good thing Gaveston’s hold on the prince has been severed. When Edward succeeds to the throne, you and the other young nobles who were in his service at King’s Langley will likely be chosen to fill the highest offices in the realm.” Guy heard his wife’s step behind them. “Here’s Jory. I’ll get your horse while you say good-bye.”

  Rickard took Jory’s hand and kissed her fingertips. “I cannot fully convey how happy I am that you consented to become the Countess of Warwick. My father deserves a chance at happiness.”

  “I am most grateful
that you do not resent me. Your father is extremely proud of you, and I am thankful that you feel so secure in your father’s love that a new wife is no threat to you.”

  “No threat whatsoever, Lady Marjory.” He gave her a conspiratorial smile. “I hope we can be firm allies and join our forces together to overrule the infamous earl if he proves unreasonable in the future on some point or other.”

  Jory laughed up at him. “As we are both certain he will.”

  As Guy led his son’s horse from the stables, he saw Rickard and Jory laughing together, holding hands. He paused at the picture they made. She looked even younger than Rickard and they made a most attractive couple. Seeing them together made him aware of his years. His son’s admiration for Jory was no threat to him. But other men were…men from her past…undoubtedly young, handsome men. One who had planted his seed in her, whose name she had called out in her sleep.

  Jory and Guy watched Rickard until he rode out of sight; then her husband slipped his arm about her to gather her close. “How would you like to visit our castle of Flamstead? Several mares should have dropped new colts by now, your white palfrey Zephyr among them.”

  “I would love it above all things.”

  “We can spend the first night at your Castle of Windrush.”

  “I can’t wait! How did you pick such a romantic name?”

  “If I confess that it’s named after the nearby River Windrush, will you promise to still think me romantic?”

  “Ask me again after we spend our first night there.” She stood on tiptoe and licked her lips in a tempting gesture that lured his hot, hungry mouth to ravish her with kisses.

  Jory’s head filled with plans. “When I visit Lynx and Jane, will you come with me?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Absolutely. I’m looking forward to seeing Hedingham Castle.” I intend to find out if Lynx de Warenne knew what the Bruce was planning. The two families have been close friends for years. Surrey turned his fighting men over to the Earl of Pembroke, but if Edward Plantagenet issues Lynx de Warenne a call to arms to fight the Bruce, it will be interesting to see if he answers it.