by Speer, Flora
“I do trust you. However, you may be putting my life at risk by taking me to see my mother at this late hour.”
“Better late at night than early in the morning,” Royce said. “Surely you haven’t forgotten that Lady Irmina seldom rises before midday?” He paused at a familiar door, waiting until the man-at-arms posted there opened it.
“Royce, isn’t this your office?”
“So it is.” Royce smiled at her. “Courage, my dear. All things pass away in time, even unpleasant interviews.”
He preceded her into the room. While her view was still blocked by his body, she heard her mother complaining. Elaine sighed; she had almost forgotten how high pitched and irritating Lady Irmina’s voice was.
“I have been held here for hours. If Royce, detestable man that he is, wants to speak with me, let him visit me in my own apartments, at a decent time of day.”
“Good evening, Lady Irmina,” Royce said from the doorway.
“It is not evening, it’s the middle of the night, and I want my bed. Sir Lamont is waiting in it for me.” A swishing of skirts indicated that Lady Irmina had whirled to face Royce.
“Sir Lamont will have to continue to wait,” Royce told her. “Elaine is here.”
“Elaine? Here? Why? Is she alone?”
Royce stepped aside so Elaine could enter the room, and mother and daughter came face to face after more than two years.
Lady Irmina was clad in glittering blue and silver court robes with a wide sash heavily trimmed in gold thread fastened snugly around her still trim waist. Her darkly outlined eyes widened and her painted mouth unattractively gaped open at the sight of the daughter she had thought was in Jersey. She was an older and, to Elaine’s eyes, a far less attractive version of Aglise, with the same flaxen hair and blue eyes. The perfect oval of her face was marred by deep lines left after years of a self-centered and rather dissipated life. A whiff of heavy perfume reached Elaine’s nose.
“Hello, Mother.” Elaine knew better than to expect an embrace, much less a kiss. A reasonably polite greeting was all she dared hope for. Judging by the annoyed surprise on Lady Irmina’s heavily powdered face, even that much wasn’t to be granted her.
Elaine glanced beyond her mother to Desmond, who stood by the north windows. His hair was neatly trimmed, his face was clean shaven, and he wore a light brown tunic and matching hose, with his sword and eating knife securely in place at his belt. He looked ready to take on any challenge. He also looked angry, for which she couldn’t blame him. She wondered what he’d had to tell her mother to convince her to accompany him to Royce’s chambers. Lady Irmina did not like Royce of Wortham and probably was not happy at having to meet him. Not to mention, having to meet her elder daughter.
“Why in the name of heaven are you wearing that dreadful gown?” Lady Irmina cried. “Have you no maidservant to comb your hair? I hope and pray you haven’t been seen by anyone important.”
“This is the only dress I brought with me. I have no servant.” Urged to sly humor by the spirit of mischief that always beset her when in her mother’s presence, Elaine added, “The only important people I’ve seen so far are Royce and the king.”
“You saw the king? Wearing that horrible dress, with no face paint and no jewelry at all? Elaine, this is a royal court, not some distant and unimportant little manor house. Oh, I shall die of embarrassment!”
“I don’t think the king noticed my gown. He didn’t seem to, anyway, and Royce thought I was dressed appropriately.”
“You are the most impossible girl. Where is Aglise?” Lady Irmina demanded. “Did she come with you?”
“No, Mother.” Elaine paused to take a steadying breath. Her moment of mischief was over. It was time for hard truths. “Aglise is the reason I am here.”
“Oh?” Lady Irmina’s thinly plucked eyebrows rose. “I trust that she, at least, has done nothing to disgrace herself. Or me. Sir Lamont will not like it if she has.”
“Mother, Aglise is dead. I am sorry to tell you so bluntly, but there’s no gentle way to speak such news.”
“No, you are lying.” Lady Irmina’s grating voice began to rise in tone and volume. “It cannot be true. I am arranging a marriage for her, to a French nobleman who is a close friend of my dear Sir Lamont. I will not allow Aglise to die; the marriage is far too important to me.”
“I am afraid, Mother,” Elaine said, speaking each word slowly and clearly, “that Aglise is unable to agree with your arrangements for her. She is dead.”
“But, I – I have such splendid plans to visit the French court and make an important place there.” Lady Irmina looked utterly bewildered, her painted face collapsing into the perennially irritated expression Elaine had seen all during her childhood. “How could Aglise do this to me?” Lady Irmina shrieked.
“I do believe my sister would have much preferred to live, if only it had been possible,” Elaine said coldly. “Instead, she was seduced and despoiled by Lord Bertrand, and then murdered by his wife – the same people to whom you sent her.”
“You cannot blame me for this,” Lady Irmina exclaimed, her face going red under the white powder. “Bertrand was your father’s friend, not mine.”
“I don’t care whose friend he was,” Elaine cried. “My sister – your daughter – is dead. Can’t you stop thinking about yourself and your ambitions long enough to grieve for her?”
“After she slept with Bertrand? Really, the girl had no sense at all. Didn’t I always teach you and your sister to save yourselves for marriage, and that I’d see to it you were wed to wealthy and powerful men? While you are grieving for that foolish girl, consider how the scandal of her death will destroy any opportunity I might have to marry you off to a man of good family. Finding a man willing to marry you was difficult enough before this news. Now, you may not have a chance.”
“At the moment,” Elaine declared with considerable force, “I have no interest in marrying. At the moment, what I want most is justice for Aglise, and to prevent -” She pressed her lips together before she let slip a word about the scheme to murder the king. Fortunately, her mother was too wrapped up in her own grievances to notice the uncompleted sentence.
“You will marry when and how I tell you,” Lady Irmina declared. “It won’t be easy to find someone for you, homely and stubborn as you are. I tell you again, Elaine, as I have told you so many times in the past, no man wants a wife who will not dress properly and who persists in reading and writing! You ought to be ashamed of yourself!”
“That’s enough,” Desmond said, stepping away from the windows. “Lady Irmina, you insult a lovely and intelligent young woman, who did everything possible to find her sister, and who even now mourns the loss of Aglise. If your heart is so cold that you cannot sympathize with Elaine, then at least have the decency to cease berating her.”
“Do not speak to me in that rude manner, you paltry knave. Elaine, you will come with me to my rooms. Perhaps Sir Lamont and I, together, can beat some sense into you.”
Lady Irmina turned her back on Desmond. Thus, she did not see his clenched fists or the look of appeal he sent to Royce.
“I refuse to go anywhere near your precious Sir Lamont,” Elaine stated very firmly. “I detest him.” The last time she’d seen Lamont, he’d had his hands on Aglise’s buttocks under the guise of bidding her a safe journey to Jersey.
“Lamont is your stepfather!” Lady Irmina exclaimed.
“Oh?” Elaine’s voice fairly dripped icy distain. “As Lord Bertrand is my foster father? As he was Aglise’s foster father?”
“I am certain Aglise lured Bertrand into her bed,” Lady Irmina snapped.
Elaine was too angry to speak. Tears of rage stood in her eyes and she knew if she tried to say a word she would either begin to cry, or else she’d strike her mother. She saw by Desmond’s white face and grimly set mouth that he was equally furious. She longed to go into his arms and be comforted, but if she did, she’d leave him open to her mother’s vicious tongu
e and rude insinuations. So she merely lifted her chin, planted both feet solidly on the floor, and waited. As an unwed girl she was completely under her mother’s – and her stepfather’s – rule, but she wasn’t going to submit quietly.
“Step aside, Royce,” Lady Irmina ordered. “I am going to my bedchamber, and to my dear husband. Come along, Elaine. You may sleep on a pallet in my anteroom.”
“I regret to inform you, my lady, that you may not leave,” Royce said, his quiet voice an odd counterpoint to Lady Irmina’s shrill tones. “Since you know Elaine is here, and since you cannot be trusted to keep her presence at Caen a secret, you will remain in these rooms for a time.”
“What do you mean?” Lady Irmina screeched. “By what right do you hold me?”
“By King Henry’s command,” Royce answered. “Elaine, I am deeply sorry to have to inflict her on you. I can only beg you to consider the next few hours as one more service offered to your king.”
“No,” Elaine whispered. “Royce, please.”
“Royce, you cannot do this to her,” Desmond exclaimed, speaking right over Elaine’s soft protest. “You’ve heard this harpy spewing her venom. How can you leave Elaine alone with her?”
“The decision is mine.” Royce regarded Desmond with eyebrows raised as if in surprise. “What difference can it possibly make to you?”
Elaine saw Desmond stare back at Royce, then shrug his shoulders, before he turned his attention to the glowering Lady Irmina.
“I understand your husband keeps pigeons,” Desmond said, his tone provocative.
“I know nothing about pigeons,” Lady Irmina said.
“No,” Desmond responded, “I don’t suppose you do.”
“If Lamont does keep pigeons, what of it?” Lady Irmina asked. “Is it a crime to breed peaceable birds?”
“Most men would choose to breed falcons for hunting,” Desmond said.
“Sir Lamont’s personal activities are no concern of yours,” Lady Irmina told him, her elegant nose in the air.
“I think they are,” Desmond said quietly.
“Desmond,” Elaine asked, “does this mean what I fear it does?”
“We cannot be absolutely certain yet, but now you will understand why Lady Irmina must remain here and why she can have no contact with Sir Lamont.”
“Yes,” Elaine agreed, bowing to the inevitable. “I do understand.”
It was the most miserable night of Elaine’s life. Not even the many nights of worrying and wondering where Aglise could be, nor the long night of vigil over her body could compare to her present wretchedness.
Sir Lamont de Bruay, the stepfather she despised, kept pigeons, and Elaine did not doubt that Desmond would soon learn whether the birds were the same ones used to send messages to Jersey. If so, Sir Lamont was probably the spy for whom Desmond and Royce were searching.
Was it possible that, as Lady Irmina’s own foolish words seemed to indicate, she was also involved in treason? Why else did she plan to marry Aglise to a French nobleman who was, by her own admission, a close friend of Sir Lamont? Why else did Irmina imagine she could make a grand place for herself at the court of King Louis VI?
The possibilities were too ghastly to contemplate. Not that Elaine was granted time for quiet contemplation. Her mother did not accept temporary restraint without noisy protest.
Lady Irmina paced back and forth across Royce’s bedchamber while in a loud voice she raged against her captor for his cruelty in keeping her from the husband who awaited her in their bed. Once, she tried to open the door and leave, only to be stopped by a guard in the corridor, who told her she must remain where she was until Royce’s order released her.
“Who does Royce imagine he is?” she screamed at Elaine. “How can you, my own child, be a party to this unjust imprisonment?”
Elaine refused to answer. But when Lady Irmina began to throw any object she could get her hands on, with the clear intention of destroying all of Royce’s movable belongings, Elaine snatched a delicate silver cup from her hands.
“If you continue in this way,” Elaine said, “I will call the guard to tie you up until Royce returns.”
“Royce!” Lady Irmina screeched. “That villain! Why is he keeping me here?”
“You know why. He told you why. It’s because you don’t have the good sense to keep quiet,” Elaine said. She experienced no shred of guilt for her lack of respect toward her parent. “Mother, you are behaving like a spoiled child. Your tantrums do not impress me and they will certainly have no effect on Royce.”
“You despicable girl!” Lady Irmina flounced away from Elaine, to fling herself down on Royce’s bed, where she pounded the pillow in frustration. After a few minutes of wild sobbing, she fell asleep, worn out by her rage.
“Just like a naughty little girl,” Elaine murmured, drawing the coverlet over her mother’s thin form. She could only hope Lady Irmina would sleep though the night. Elaine removed the wrinkled blue gown that had so distressed her mother, then slid beneath the sheet, taking care not to waken the older woman.
Daylight brought a servant with hot water, followed by Desmond bearing a tray of food and the welcome news that the Daisy had tied up at the docks below the castle shortly after dawn. He glanced at the still sleeping Lady Irmina and spoke more softly.
“I’m sorry about last night. Royce decided you would be the best person to keep watch over your mother, but it can’t have been pleasant for you. I heard some of her noise while we were working in Royce’s office.”
“I understood how important it was to keep her confined,” Elaine said, dismissing Lady Irmina’s tantrum. “What of Sir Lamont?”
“The two of you will see him later this morning, when you attend King Henry.” Desmond glanced toward the sleeping woman on the bed. “You may use the information to coax your mother into more polite behavior.”
After another quick look at Lady Irmina, Desmond seized Elaine’s hand and pressed a long kiss on her palm. He departed, leaving her certain that he would much prefer to kiss her mouth and then take her to bed.
Her heart warmed by his action, Elaine hastened to waken Lady Irmina. The news that they were to wait upon the king produced another bout of tears.
“How can I face King Henry in a wrinkled gown?” Lady Irmina wept.
“Wash your face and comb your hair and be done with this foolishness,” Elaine advised sternly. “The king won’t notice what you are wearing. He has more important matters on his mind.”
“That’s all very well for you,” Lady Irmina said, watching Elaine splash water on her face. “You never take care with your appearance. But I need my face paint and my hairdresser.”
“If you want, I will act as your hairdresser,” Elaine offered. “I do know how to make a neat braid.”
“I suppose I have no choice,” her mother said ungraciously.
By the time Lady Irmina had finished scrubbing the last traces of the previous day’s cosmetics from her face, Elaine was again dressed in her blue gown and her hair was in its usual thick, single braid. Knowing her mother would never be satisfied with such simplicity, Elaine gathered up the hairpins that had fallen onto the pillow. After arranging the older woman’s hair in twin braids, she pinned the braids high on her head in a neat coronet.
“The truth is, Mother, you look better without all that dreadful powder and paint on your face. You look softer and prettier, and much younger this way.”
“You are only trying to make me accept the sad fact that I will appear to be as unfashionable as you,” Lady Irmina replied with a sniff of distaste.
Fortunately for Elaine’s temper, Desmond appeared just then, to escort the ladies to the king’s apartments. They were admitted to the same room where Elaine had met the king, but on this occasion they were led to a larger audience chamber beyond the first. The chamber was empty.
“Thank heaven he’s not using the great hall, so I don’t have to appear before the entire court in this disheveled state,” Lady Ir
mina muttered, scowling at Desmond. “But what can King Henry possibly want with me so early in the day?”
Neither Elaine nor Desmond answered her. They waited for a minute or two, until the king came into the room, preceded by several of his household knights, all of them wearing swords, though weapons were usually removed before entering the king’s presence. Henry was followed by Royce, Cadwallon, Lord Bertrand, a few of the king’s closest advisors – and Sir Lamont, who was wearing the very latest fashion for noblemen, a short cloak wrapped across his shoulders with a loose end of fabric hanging down along his right arm to cover his hand.
“Oh,” Lady Irmina whispered to Desmond, “is my dear Lamont to receive some special award? He is so assiduous in his attendance on the king. But, why wasn’t I permitted to know about it, so I could array myself properly before coming here?”
“Hush, Mother,” Elaine warned. “Do be quiet.”
“Cadwallon, my friend,” King Henry said in a clear, carrying voice that made Elaine suspect his remarks were prearranged, “we are delighted to have you join us.”
“It’s always a pleasure to see you in good health, my lord,” Cadwallon answered in the same kind of voice, grinning at his liege.
The king stepped forward, walking freely amid the men he called his friends as he approached Desmond and the two ladies who stood near the door.
Elaine felt Desmond tense beside her. Remembering that this was the first day of May, the date set for the attempt on the king’s life, she looked from King Henry to Royce, and then on to Lord Bertrand, whom she half expected to make a move against his king.
What happened next occurred so quickly that she couldn’t follow the action. Sir Lamont moved forward, toward King Henry. Suddenly, he appeared to stumble and fall against the king, and Lord Bertrand seemed to fall against Sir Lamont, knocking him off balance. At Sir Lamont’s first step, Lady Irmina rushed to the men. Elaine thought she was running into her husband’s arms, until she heard her cry out.
“No!” Lady Irmina screamed. “You shall not!”
