The Countess Bride

by TERRI BRISBIN

  When he would have argued, Christian halted him. “And I told you that she had been held by the prince. You have traveled the realm, seen and heard enough to know of his sordid reputation when it comes to women and his desires. You may argue this, but somewhere inside you knew, or at least suspected, that she came to you without her virtue.”

  Geoffrey could not refute that. Sometime between the night she had stopped him and last night, when she’d tried to tell him, he had come to that conclusion.

  “Do you still want her? Do you still think to take her as wife?”

  “How can you ask that?” He glared at his brother.

  “It is necessary for you to think on it before anything happens. For if you wish to honor this betrothal, when the prince makes his move to distract and disarm you, you must be ready to face him. Or face complete destruction.”

  The words chilled his soul in their stark explanation of the threat that faced him. That his brother spoke from experience was even more unnerving.

  “I want her.” Geoffrey stated it plainly.

  “And Catherine? Will she stand by her pledge?”

  “Yes,” he said without hesitation.

  Chris looked out at the river running its course, and cursed under his breath. “You will not like this, but I think the most strategic thing we can do is leave. Get Catherine as far away from the Plantagenets and make her your wife. Then I will escort you to Château d’Azure and see you settled before returning home to Greystone.”

  “Leave? Now?”

  It made sense. John would not make trouble in Aquitaine or Poitou, where his brother ruled and where his mother’s base of power was at its strongest. And with the constant threat of Arthur of Brittany’s better claim, John did not want to take any chance of angering or alienating his royal friend Phillip. Taking Catherine to their home, to his home now, was the best plan. “Can you make the arrangements? I suppose we will seek Richard’s permission to leave.”

  “I doubt that will be a problem, since you came at your king’s summons and fought well for his interests. Many are leaving each day now to get back to their lands for the harvest season,” Christian said. “We will seek out an audience after we speak with Catherine, and leave in the morn.”

  “Let us go gently with her,” he cautioned. “She has told me that she remembers nothing of the time before the convent, and I would not humiliate her with what you have told me. Allow her some semblance of honor.”

  “She has nothing to fear from me, Geoff. Her enemy will not quibble over honor or respect. He will get what he seeks or wants by any means necessary, and destroy any who stand in his way.”

  “Just so, step carefully when we question her. And, although I value Luc’s assistance, I prefer that he not be present.”

  “As you wish,” his brother answered, nodding to him. “Come, let us make our arrangements. We will speak to Richard’s man to ask if the king will see us later today.”

  “Then I must find Catherine. She needs to know that the prince is here.”

  She knew the prince was here.

  After resting in her chamber this morn, fearing that one and all would see the night of pleasure somehow in her eyes or in the smile she could not keep from her face, she had decided that a walk would do her much good. ’Twas as she left the queen’s apartments that word came, by way of the servants, of course, that Eleanor’s youngest son had arrived in Caen.

  Afraid of what he might do, Catherine had sought out Geoffrey. And she had found him, with his brother, walking the ramparts on the south wall. They were deep in conversation and did not hear her calls or see her waving from below. So she walked to the tower nearest them and climbed it, intent on informing them of the news. Instead, their words shocked her into silence, and from her hiding place on the tower stairs she listened to the sordid tale of her brother’s infamy and the scandal that had nearly destroyed the Dumonts.

  Worse yet was that their words forced her to remember all that had been done to her during her year in John’s custody. They mentioned only the barest details of the story, but once she was confronted with those, the wall she had carefully constructed fell, and she was faced with the full extent of her dishonor. The requests that had turned into threats that gave way to tortures were all there in her mind. And she was filled once more with the terrible anger that had given her the strength to fight once before.

  But the last time she’d had only herself to protect. She had given up on being saved by her brother; his evil had brought her into this. Nay, she thought, shaking her head. He was not evil. He had loved her, and Catherine believed with everything in her soul that William could not know, had not known, the deprivations and abuses being heaped on her by his master. Only when she was weak had she begun to believe the lies she knew John told about William.

  Now there were others involved. And she could no more let John take action against them for their part in saving her than she could deny her love for Geoffrey. But how? How would she meet this challenge and explain away any questions raised? She smiled grimly as she pulled out the linen cloth tucked in her sleeve and wiped the perspiration from her brow and face.

  Catherine decided that she would simply not remember any of it. Her answer to all questions would be the same— I have no memory of that time. With the head injury that the earl had disclosed, it would be easy and believable enough to blame it on that. The reverend mother had told her of many people who suffered blows to the head and whose memory was foggy and incomplete after that.

  And to keep his love, Catherine knew that Geoffrey must never learn of the depths of depravity to which she’d been exposed. He was uncommonly kind in accepting her lack of virtue, but if he were faced with the real knowledge of her sins, his love for her would die a quick death.

  With a promise to herself that she would never bring dishonor to his name or to his family, she also promised that she would be a good wife to him. She would be the reserved and respectful and cooperative woman he had come to know, and he would never see the darkness within her. He would never know.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  How she had managed to get through the discussion with Geoffrey and the earl, she would never know. Geoffrey looked on her with such love and offered her such support as they explained to her about the prince’s appearance here and the link it might have to her. And to each question, she answered with the same words: I have no memory of that time.

  She swore to the Almighty that she would spend the rest of her life praying and doing penance for the lies she told directly, and for those of omission, as well. And Geoffrey believed her. He promised his love and he believed that she did not remember.

  She was shaking uncontrollably by the time they’d asked all the questions they must, and Geoffrey praised her for holding herself together so well in this difficult situation. The shame tore through her at each word or sign of his love, but she was doing this to protect him as much as to protect herself. If she had survived those horrors, it must be because there was a plan for her. If she could offer him her love and give him even a small measure of the joy he had given her, then any guilt she must suffer was worth the pain it would cost her to keep this from him.

  Geoffrey told her that the king would see them prior to the evening meal, and they would ask leave to go to their castle in Poitou. Now that the major battles were done and Richard firmly in control of the area, the king planned to return to Gaillard for the next several months with his commanders. Eleanor had already spoken of traveling to her favorite retreat at Fontrevault, so Caen would go back to being the administrative capital of the Norman holdings.

  This was, as Geoffrey explained, the perfect time to leave.

  And so the Count of Langier, the Earl of Harbridge and their companies of knights stood before the king and queen awaiting his permission to be on their way.

  “This has been quite the adventure for you, has it not, Langier? You and the knights under your banner acquitted yourselves with honor and bravery in
the service of your king.”

  “My thanks for your kind words, sire.” Geoffrey bowed to Richard. “I stand ready, as is my duty to my liege.”

  He said the correct words with the correct tone, and Catherine could tell Richard was pleased. He listened to something Eleanor whispered to him and nodded at her words.

  “Harbridge? If you have no objection, I would approve the betrothal before me. As her guardian, you are being most generous in dowering her with the only Dumont lands still in your possession.”

  “They were my mother’s holdings, sire, and adjoin my brother’s southern borders. They will complement what he holds and protects.”

  After the weeks and weeks of hostility and protests against Geoffrey’s decision, this surprised Catherine as well. The earl had promised her a small amount of gold, but never had he included anything else. Now, even being one of the few who knew of her dishonor, he gifted her before the king.

  Richard looked to his clerk to record the approval, but a voice broke into the silence.

  “Brother,” the prince called out. “Be not hasty in this approval.” She felt Geoffrey tense beside her and saw the earl’s stance grow rigid.

  “John, what place have you in this? Neither the count nor the earl are your vassals.”

  The prince ignored the king’s question and as Catherine held her breath, he walked directly to where she stood. Staring at her face, he spoke to her with words so false she nearly cried out.

  “Catherine? God in Heaven be praised! It is you, Catherine.” He took her hand and, despite her efforts to pull free, held it to his mouth and kissed it. “I have prayed daily for your safe return, and now, it seems, the Almighty has answered my prayers.”

  “John? Explain yourself,” his mother called out.

  “Mother, this is Catherine de Severin, the sister of William, who was killed—pardon, who died in a matter of honor—nearly three years ago.” His eyes were cold as he looked from her to the earl and then to Geoffrey. Still he held her hand in his.

  “She disappeared on the same day that William fought the earl, and I have been trying to find her since that time. To ascertain what had happened to her and who was responsible for taking her from my care and custody.”

  The earl was correct. The prince mixed lies, innuendos and half truths, all in a tone of voice that sounded sincere. If she were not the one being discussed and if she had no knowledge of the events that day, he would have convinced her of his concern.

  “Harbridge, is this so?” the king asked. Although his expression suggested he did not believe his brother, Richard must give him the benefit of seeming to accept his words in public. Catherine knew that it was up to the earl now.

  “Sire, she is indeed Catherine de Severin, sister of the late William. When she was discovered by the sisters at the convent near Lincoln, they summoned me, as one of their sponsors, to determine what should become of her. As is my duty as lord of those lands, I accepted responsibility for her and, when no one came forward, I took her as my ward, with the reverend mother standing as her guardian.”

  “And now she is betrothed and about to marry the Count of Langier. Your charity has no bounds, Harbridge.”

  “I do not hold de Severin’s sister responsible for his crimes against me any more than you hold me responsible for the crimes of my father, sire. I have tried to learn by your good example.”

  His words swayed the king, for she saw his wide smile as he savored the words that praised him for setting the example. Eleanor also nodded in approval. Catherine let some hope trickle that this would work into her soul.

  “But, brother, I hold her guardianship, and no betrothal can be approved except by me. It matters not where she was found, for her brother begged me to see to her if anything happened to him. I even had his last testament and his will.” John paused and pointed to one of his servants. “Etienne will bring the documents to the hall so that this may be resolved.”

  As onlookers commented on the proceedings and the issue became murkier, she saw Richard’s disdain for carrying this on before so many. Instead of a simple pro forma approval, there was now contention and disagreement. The king stopped everything with a wave of his hand.

  “John, present the documents to my clerk for their examination. Harbridge, you endow her because she is your ward. If she proves not to be?”

  The earl did not answer, but the result of such a decision was she would be the penniless sister of a dead man.

  “John, why do you put out so much effort to regain her wardship when she will be without wealth? I know how you like your gold….” the king said.

  Gazing back at her, he answered, “Some things, brother, are more important than coin. Catherine has…great value to me, for the honor debt I owe her brother.”

  Catherine has something I want.

  Had anyone else heard the words she knew he meant?

  “Just so,” Richard said. “We will deal with this on the morrow, after there has been an examination of the documents you say you have, John. Mother…” The king nodded at Eleanor and left the hall, followed by his entourage.

  Their chance for resolution and escape had been stolen from them. Catherine closed her eyes and shook her head. But Geoffrey clasped her hand and whispered words of encouragement. “Worry not, Cate. We will prevail in this.”

  She wanted to believe him, but if John proved his claim, she would belong to him, to be disposed of in any manner that pleased him. Catherine did not want to think on what that meant.

  “This is the distraction I warned of, Geoff,” the earl said. “Look for him to take the next step before the morrow.”

  He had already taken that step. The Dumonts simply did not recognize it. Catherine has…

  He still sought what she had managed to keep from him throughout her imprisonment. The thing that she had hidden from him at the behest of her brother, even through the worst John and his cronies could do to her. William had sent it to her, urging her to keep it safe at all costs until he could claim it from her. He never had.

  “Catherine.”

  She turned at the queen’s voice and went to the dais.

  “Attend me after the meal,” Eleanor ordered. “In my chambers.”

  She nodded and returned to Geoffrey’s side. He entwined his fingers with hers and pulled her close, even as he talked with his brother and the other men. Catherine decided to savor these moments, for she knew the end was coming.

  “Move the knights outside the castle, Aymer, and then report to me. We may need to act quickly, and I do not want you to be trapped within the walls.”

  “Aye, my lord,” Aymer said, and with a look and a nod, he ordered the Langier knights from the hall.

  “Luc.” It was all the earl had to say for his men to do the same.

  “Is that wise?” she asked. “Leaving will defy the king.”

  “Fear not, Cate. Our intention is not to disobey the king, but to be ready for whatever comes.”

  “A good plan.” Not that they would see the prince’s machinations coming at them in time to react, but they were trying.

  “Christian, if you would excuse us?” Geoffrey looked at her and then continued, “I think Catherine needs to walk a bit before she goes to the queen.”

  The earl nodded to them both and left them. Geoff held out his arm to her and then escorted her from the Exchequer’s Hall toward the church where they’d met earlier. Once inside, he guided her to one of the stone benches along the wall and sat with her.

  “You appeared to need some quiet, and this seemed to provide it.” He smiled at her. “Unless you wish to join in the meal?”

  Her stomach rebelled at the thought. “Nay, this is a good place to be. I am glad you thought to bring me here.”

  “I also brought you here so that I could hold you in my arms and tell you of my love for you.”

  He pulled her into his embrace and she leaned against him, accepting the comfort he offered. How would he react to what she was sure John w
ould say? Geoffrey did love her—she felt it in every part of her being—but what man could listen to what he would be told, and still love her afterward?

  She said nothing, but simply relished in his embrace. A few minutes passed and he spoke again.

  “Now that it is just the two of us, can you tell me anything you might remember that you did not wish to speak of before my brother? Is there something that could give us a hint of why John seeks you?”

  Had she shown the truth to him somehow? Had she, by a glance or word, betrayed herself? He must not suspect that she remembered it all. Not yet. Not ever.

  “I have tried, Geoffrey,” she said, laying her head on his chest. “I have no memory of those days.”

  “But you knew you were not a…” He did not finish.

  “I cannot explain that, either. ’Twas something I just knew. Mayhap I heard the nuns speak of it during my time of recovery?”

  “Mayhap,” he replied. “Cate, you do know that you can tell me anything, anything at all, and it will not affect my love for you or my desire to have you as my wife?”

  The tears so clogged her throat that she could not have responded even if she’d wanted to. She nodded against his chest. Catherine knew she must try to hold out, for there was nothing she wanted more than to be with Geoffrey.

  They sat without speaking for a long time, and when the noises outside told them that the meal was done, she knew she must go to the queen. He stood when she did, and kissed her softly.

  “Come to me with anything you remember, Cate.”

  They parted as they entered the donjon, Catherine going to Eleanor and he to find his brother and Aymer and Luc. She climbed the steps and had just entered the corridor when a rough grasp pulled her into a small storage chamber there. The voice that greeted her sent icy fingers of terror along her spine.

  “My dear Catherine, so good to see you again.”