‘No, it was in Ashfirth’s mind that by leaving the Guard in place, there would some semblance of normality. He hopes to keep suspicions at bay for as long as possible.’
‘It’s a good thought. My dear, I do believe the Princess is about to come down with a sickness. It is possible she has eaten something that does not agree with her.’
A slow smile spread across Katerina’s face. ‘Perhaps she picked up a fever on the voyage from Dyrrachion.’
‘It may be that—yes, it may be that. Poor thing. At any rate, Princess Theodora will not be receiving visitors until she is quite recovered. I take it that the Commander will not object if I enlist his men to back me up in this?’
‘He will be pleased to help. Oh, thank you, my lady, I have been worrying and worrying!’
‘You may stop worrying, Katerina, you have done your part.’
* * *
Soon afterwards, Anna and Kari returned to the apartment in the Boukoleon, whereupon Anna briefed the young man that should anyone come to enquire after the Princess, they were to be told that she was ailing. The Varangians could take messages for her, but the Princess was simply not well enough to leave the apartment or to receive visitors.
Then, William’s document firmly in hand, Anna went to a table in the reception chamber that overlooked the sea. She stared at the signature on the document, already she had signed it. William was now officially, legally free.
For some reason, she was reluctant to send it to him. She was half-afraid that even though he had promised to stay for a while, if he had his manumission, he might change his mind and leave. No, no, William would not do that, he is an honourable man. But the fear remained.
It might be best to avoid his company for a time, even though it would feel as though she had cut off her arm. It was hard to believe she had known him for so brief a time. Of course, they had been flung together much in these last few days. In truth, because of the way unmarried men and women were segregated in the Palace, she and William had spent more time together than many who had known each other for years.
Time apart might bring William to recognise a truth Anna had known when she had first set eyes on him. We are made for each other. If he were not angered by her attempt to force him into marriage, if he were not reeling from the message his father had sent him, he would surely realise this, too. He loves me. William is an honourable man, a truthful man. He would not have made me his so beautifully unless he loved me. He needs time to realise this. If he does not see me, perhaps he might miss me. Perhaps he will come to realise that I was telling him the truth, and that I really do love him. Perhaps…
* * *
Over a week of seclusion in Princess Theodora’s apartment went by, it had been put about that she was nursing the Princess. Only she was allowed in the Princess’s bedchamber. Time dragged. Day after day, Anna returned to the table and gazed at the sea and the flocks of gulls. A green scarf she was embroidering rested idle in her lap.
Anna’s thoughts started veering down darker paths, they twisted and turned…
Of course, it was possible that she was mistaken, she must not be arrogant—not everyone who fell in love had their love requited. He loves me, I know he does.
She had put aside all thought of making William marry her purely to thwart her father. From the beginning it had been the most foolish of impulses. I loved him from that first moment, that is why that impulse was born in me. Sadly, Anna was coming to see that whilst she might have fallen in love with William at first sight, her feelings might not be reciprocated.
Yet.
I cannot force him. I shall give him time and then…if I make it clear I will not force him…
William had offered her friendship. He liked her. He had been the most breathtaking of lovers, not once but twice. It was not as much as she had hoped for—Anna wanted a lifetime of such loving. William was the only man she could imagine giving herself to in such a way, but she wanted him to marry her with a light heart, freely, of his own volition.
What is he doing? What if he has already returned to Apulia?
* * *
Despite William’s promise to remain in the City until they knew whether she had quickened with his child, the morning came when Anna was gripped by the fear that she might never see him again.
In a rush of panic, she called for her maidservant. ‘Juliana!’
‘Yes, my lady?’
‘I should like you to enquire what is happening at the Hall of the Nineteen Couches. Try to discover whether Sir William Bradfer is still there. Be discreet. I do not want him to know I am asking about him.’
‘The Hall of the Nineteen Couches? I thought it was disused.’
‘Not any longer…a party of Franks are using it to lodge in. Find out what is happening there.’
‘Very good, my lady.’
With a curtsy, Juliana let herself out of the apartment.
Anna picked up the green scarf and scowled at her clumsy stitching. I can do better, that whole row will have to be reworked. Sighing, she reached for the scissors.
It was painful, not seeing William. She had lost her appetite. It was hard to sleep. It was impossible to think. Does he miss me, as I miss him?
* * *
‘My lady?’
Anna started. She had fallen into a daydream, her sewing sat untouched on the table. ‘Juliana! I didn’t hear you come back.’
‘Sir William is still at the hall, my lady. And as you said, several other foreigners appear to be lodged there.’
‘And did you…?’ Anna was about to ask Juliana if she had actually seen William herself, when she felt an all-too-familiar twinge in her belly and the quiet throbbing of backache. The time of her monthly courses was upon her. She bundled the green scarf into her sewing basket and put her hand on her stomach.
No baby, there will be no baby.
‘My lady? Is something wrong?’
Anna forced her lips to smile, inside, she was weeping. No baby. I must tell him at once.
The moment of truth was upon her. If William chose to leave, this was the moment when she must face the fact that she had lost him. ‘Nothing’s wrong, Juliana. It is my time again, I fear. Are the cloths in the bedchamber?’
‘Yes, my lady.’
‘Is it cold outside?’
‘The breeze is rather brisk.’
‘Please bring me my cloak, I shall be going out shortly.’
‘Yes, my lady.’
* * *
‘So, Sir William…’ Anna concluded brightly ‘…there is nothing to keep you here.’
They were walking past a fountain in the Palace gardens. Anna’s hand lay formally on William’s arm, his head was turned politely towards hers and the guard she had remembered to bring with her waited with great tact by a latticed gate a few yards away. She had given him his document of manumission, which he had tucked off-handedly into his belt. As confirmation that he had never accepted his enslavement, the off-handed gesture was telling.
Green eyes bored into her. ‘My lady, you are certain?’ He lowered his voice, Anna had to strain to hear him over the sound of water hissing into the pond from the mouth of a bronze fish. ‘You are certain there will be no child?’
‘Quite certain. There is no need for us to marry. As of this moment, there is nothing to keep you here.’
William rested a boot on the edge of the fountain. His expression was so wooden, it was unreadable. He is very distant. How is it that we have become strangers in only a few days? It is as though that flare of passion we shared in the Hall of the Nineteen Couches was but a dream.
I will not beg. I have told him that I love him and I will not beg. Why does he not believe me? Wildly, Anna wondered what the difference was between insisting you loved someone long enough to make them believe you, and begging.
Surely his expression was too carefully blank to be natural? Hope flared as she waited for his response. I know William loves me, there must be some way I can convince him that w
e belong together.
She swallowed. The pity was that she had tried to force him—that had been a grave error. It was not, she prayed, an irredeemable one. I made a mistake, but William has a generous heart. He must come to forgive me.
Not all of her felt so confident. William has had little experience of love in his life. He was hardened by his early years and then there was Lady Felisa. She is much to blame—she rejected him when he was a poor knight, now that she thinks him rich and powerful, she wants him. Lady Felisa’s change of heart has soured him. It will be hard, if not impossible, to win his trust. William is not capable of love.
No, he is capable of love! Look at the way he cared for Daphne and Paula, look at his reaction when he saw Sir Bruno. Sir Bruno knows his worth—Sir Bruno would never have come all this way for a knight who cared for no one.
‘My lady, are you content to marry one of your suitors?’
Bracing herself—she would not beg—Anna forced the lie past her teeth. ‘I am content.’
‘What of your revulsion for…your father’s choice—I forget the name, Lord…?’
‘Lord Basil.’
‘I received the impression you loathed the man.’
‘Your…’ cheeks on fire, Anna gave him what she hoped would pass for a coquettish smile ‘…tuition of me was most thorough, Sir William. You have made me realise that I have nothing to fear from marriage. I confess it was the…’ she leaned confidentially towards him ‘…physical side of marriage that concerned me, but you have allayed my fears.’
‘I have?’
‘Yes.’ She glanced at him from under her lashes. The wooden expression had gone. If anything, he looked slightly stunned. He was also gazing at her mouth and his eyes were dark.
‘You are no longer repulsed by the thought of Lord Basil?’
‘Indeed, no.’
‘Have you met Lord Basil yet?’
‘I have not seen anyone this past week.’
‘Not even your father?’
‘No, much has been happening, as I am sure you are aware. The Emperor’s enthronement, the coronation. My father will have been busy.’
‘You did not attend the coronation yourself?’ William asked.
She shook her head.
‘When will you meet Lord Basil?’
‘When my father arranges it.’
‘Where will you meet him? Will he come to the apartment?’ His voice was casual, as though he were indifferent to her response.
‘Oh, no, Lord Basil will not meet me there, even though he is the Palace Chamberlain, it would be most unorthodox. The apartment is reserved for ladies of the Imperial household and their immediate family.’
He frowned. ‘What about the guards?’
‘Varangians are utterly trustworthy, they answer only to Commander Ashfirth and the Emperor. Those exceptions aside, only women are allowed in the apartment.’
‘What about Lord Constantine?’
Anna smiled. ‘If you recall, Constantine had my father’s permission.’
‘And what about me—why was I allowed in?’
‘You were a slave, William. Slaves don’t count.’
As soon as the words had left her lips, Anna wished them unsaid. You were a slave, William. Slaves don’t count. As he recoiled, a band tightened round her heart. She closed her eyes. If she had been trying to alienate him, she could hardly have said anything worse. She had reminded him that she had bought him.
She forced herself to look at him. He was staring fixedly at the water spout, his profile so hard and unyielding, it might have been carved in stone. All warmth has left him, it is as though my words have robbed him of his humanity.
‘William?’ Anna started to reach for his arm, but remembered the watching guard and thought better of it. Her nails dug into her palms.
‘My lady?’ His head turned, his eyes had that glassy gleam to them. It was as though he had already returned to Apulia and was looking at her from afar.
My words did that. I hurt him.
‘William, a thousand apologies, I spoke carelessly.’
He looked down at her for a long moment. ‘You spoke from your heart.’
‘No, no, my words were unguarded, you misunderstand…’
He folded his arms. ‘Sir Bruno maintains that the truth is often to be found in unguarded words. It is rather the same when someone has drunk too much wine. In vino veritas.’
‘That may be true, but in this case—’
He gave a swift headshake. ‘You meant it. I was your slave. Likely you will think of me as such until your dying day.’
This is dreadful! Shivering, the breeze coming over the sea wall was raising goosebumps on her arms. Anna hugged her cloak to her. ‘No. No. All my life I have seen slaves around me. But I do not think of you in those terms.’ I want you for my husband. I love you. But I will not beg.
William’s gaze returned to the water spraying into the pond. ‘So, in sum, there is not to be a child.’
‘No.’
He shoved his hand through his hair. ‘I thank you for telling me so promptly.’
‘I would hardly dissemble on so important a matter!’
William smiled. It might be wishful thinking on
Anna’s part, but the smile seemed full of regret. ‘No, you would not.’ Again, he raked through his hair. Rather than tidying it, he was disordering it, blond locks were lying every which way. ‘Anna, I find myself in an awkward position.’
‘The lady in Apulia,’ she murmured.
‘As you know, my father has given his blessing to my union with Lady Felisa Venafro.’
Anna’s eyes stung, she jerked her head away. The bronze fish was lost behind a glitter of tears. ‘I remember.’ William needs to be loved, he does not want marriage to a cold woman who has only accepted him because he has been named heir to a count… William loves me, I know it.
Why, oh, why did I try to constrain him? A Frankish knight cannot be constrained. I must not beg. I will not beg.
William’s sigh was loud enough to be heard over the hiss of the fountain. ‘It seems I must honour my commitments in Apulia.’ He gave her a bow that was heartbreaking in its formality. In its finality. ‘My lady, since you have made it clear there is nothing to bind us, I shall book my passage home.’
Chapter Fifteen
‘So,’ Sir Bruno said, in a stomach-twisting echo of Anna’s words, ‘there is nothing to keep you here?’
Apart from William and Sir Bruno, the Hall of the Nineteen Couches was deserted. Sir Louis was out riding with Constantine, who had offered to give William’s cousin and the squires a tour of the City.
‘No, sir,’ William said. The thought of separation from Anna, particularly permanent separation, made him ache in every fibre of his being. He loved her, but what future could he have with someone who would always think of him as the Frankish slave she had bought at the market? There was no sense in prolonging the agony, and leaving Anna in Constantinople when he left to meet his father was, William was rapidly learning, a particularly excruciating form of agony.
I love her. He was no longer in any doubt of that, but she had said, with devastating plainness, ‘there is nothing to keep you here’. She had reminded him he was once her slave. If there had been a child, he would have insisted on marriage, he would have refused an annulment. She thinks of me as a slave.
‘There is nothing to keep me here,’ he said.
Sir Bruno lifted a grizzled eyebrow. ‘You certain of that, boy?’
‘Quite certain.’
‘Very well. When Louis gets back, the pair of you can get down to the docks by the Gate of the
Drungarii, there should be time before dark. I am sure Lord Constantine will loan you a horse.’
‘Good idea, I shall do just that.’
‘A ride might clear away the cobwebs, boy.’
William grimaced. Sir Bruno was right on target, his head did need clearing. He couldn’t shake the memory of Anna telling him that she was
ready to accept her father’s choice. Furthermore she—he ground his teeth together—she had actually had the gall to offer him thanks for relieving her of her concerns about the physical aspects of marriage.
‘There are plenty of merchantmen in the docks along the Golden Horn,’ Sir Bruno added, watching him speculatively. ‘You should be able to find one willing to give us passage home.’
William grunted and turned away. He picked up the costly pattern-welded sword he had bought from an armourer in the City and was testing the edge of the blade when Sir Bruno spoke again.
‘Pretty girl, Lady Anna, it’s a wonder she’s not wed. Become a good friend, has she, boy?’
William lifted his gaze from the shining blade of his sword. ‘Sir?’
‘Couldn’t help but notice the way she watches you. Seemed very affected by the news that your father is to recognise you.’
‘Lady Anna is a good friend.’
‘It will be hard to bid her farewell, I expect.’
‘Drop it, Bruno.’ William spoke so curtly that his former mentor fell silent, leaving him to think in peace.
* * *
Lord Isaac fixed his daughter with a look. ‘Anna, you will be pleased to hear that I have arranged for formal introductions to take place here the day after tomorrow. It is a great honour that Lord Basil has arranged to meet you in this room.’
Anna’s father had brought her to one of the Emperor’s minor reception chambers on the ground floor of the Boukoleon. She had never been allowed in before. Although her father referred to it as a minor reception chamber, it was almost as large as the whole of the Princess’s apartment. The walls were encrusted with gold mosaic, the Imperial standard hung like a canopy behind a couch that was gilded and upholstered in purple velvet.
Anna scowled at the double-headed eagle on the Imperial standard. A great honour? There must be some way of getting out of this. I cannot do this! If I cannot marry William, I will not marry anyone.
‘The day after tomorrow? I am to meet Lord Basil so soon?’
‘Of course.’ Her father nodded. ‘There is no reason for further delay. With the enthronement and coronation behind us, and the Empire safely in the hands of the Komneni, Lord Basil has time to see you. He is eager to do so. Now, when you enter—do remember to wear your most formal gown and the most modest of veils—Lord Basil will be standing here, in front of the throne. Doubtless, he will have his attendants with him. Make sure you greet him with humility. Lord Basil expects—’
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