Shadow of the Swan

by Judith Sterling

  “You knew? Or you hoped?”

  Her violet eyes twinkled. “I knew.”

  He regarded her through narrowed eyes. “How?”

  She held his gaze for a long moment, then waved him away. “Not your concern, Robert. But your wife is, and I can tell you’re eager to see her.”

  “And you’re eager to get rid of me.”

  Her lips twisted. “Off with you now.”

  With a parting smile, he continued to the gatehouse. Not ten steps inside the bailey, he spotted Guy, chatting with one of the pages. The little boy glanced in Robert’s direction, grabbed the squire’s arm, and pointed.

  Guy turned and met Robert’s gaze. He strode toward him with purpose. “Sir Robert, Alice asked me to relay a message from Lady Constance. Father Leof summoned her ladyship to the church. ’Tis Nelda’s time, and as you know, her ladyship promised to stay by her side.”

  Robert nodded. “A promise is a promise. I myself pledged to stay with my brother when Lady Ravenwood’s time comes. So Nelda went into labor at the church?”

  “Apparently so.” Guy examined the flowers in Robert’s hand. “Bluebells, sir?”

  “For her ladyship.”

  A smile spread across the squire’s face.

  “That’s enough, Guy.”

  “Of course, sir.” But his grin remained.

  Robert averted his gaze, then frowned. “Isn’t that Father Leof, coming out of Widow Daryl’s?”

  Guy followed his stare. “You’re right. Shouldn’t he be in Preostbi?”

  “One would think so. Wait here.” He turned and tramped across the humming bailey.

  The priest smiled as he approached. “Ah, what a pleasure to see you again. And so soon!” He motioned to the hut behind him. “As you may know, the widow has been ill, so I stopped in to see her.”

  A growing sense of unease gnawed at Robert’s stomach. “How long have you been here?”

  “A while, and I expect to stay at least until dinner. I’m just fetching some—”

  “How fares Nelda?”

  Leof blinked, then found his smile again. “Quite well. I haven’t seen her for a couple of days, but if anything were wrong, her brother Osmund would—”

  “A couple of days? She’s not in labor?”

  Leof’s grin disappeared. “Not as far as I know.”

  “Didn’t you send word to Lady Constance this morning?”

  “Lady Constance? No. Why would I?”

  Robert huffed. “To bid her come to the church and help Nelda!”

  Leof’s brow creased. “I don’t understand. I sent no word, and Nelda isn’t at the church. The only one there is the archdeacon.”

  Alarm clutched Robert’s chest. “Which archdeacon?”

  “Why, Archdeacon Dominy. He arrived early this morning, though I wasn’t expecting him. He reminded me of Widow Daryl’s plight and offered to take over while I ministered to her.”

  The flowers dropped from Robert’s hand and fell to the dust. He spun around and marched toward his squire. “Guy, my horse!”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Constance went numb as she stared at the archdeacon. With slow, predatory steps, he advanced toward her. She glanced at the east door, and the urge to flee seized her.

  No! I shall not run again. I shall face him, once and for all.

  Two yards away, Dominy halted. “I’m gratified you answered my summons.”

  Steady now. Give him no sign of panic! “I thought Father Leof sent for me. But then you know that. Your messenger lied.”

  “I paid him well to do so.”

  “Trust you to do something so vile.” The words spilled out before she could temper them.

  He glared at her and took a step closer. She itched to step backward but held her ground.

  In what seemed an unconscious act, he fingered his pectoral cross and regained his composure. “I must tell you something, and you need to hear it.”

  Dear God, what could he possibly have to say? “I need nothing from you.”

  “Not even the truth?”

  “What truth?”

  “The facts about what happened that day in York.”

  The need to know what occurred and the impulse to push back fought within her. “To which day of several hundred do you refer?”

  He gave her a lewd, sidewise glance. “You know which day.”

  Argh! Her flesh and every hair atop it bristled. “Perhaps I do. But why should I trust anything you say? You even lied to bring me hither.”

  “That was necessary. You would never have come otherwise.”

  “That much is true. Yet I cannot help but wonder…why discuss this now?”

  “Because of your husband.” His nose wrinkled as though he smelled a pile of rotting meat. “He pulled you away from me at the help-ale, and then his eyes were upon me the rest of the day. What did you tell him?”

  “Everything.”

  Dominy’s face turned red. “What?”

  She took a step backward. “Everything I know, that is.”

  His beady eyes shifted to and fro. “Just as I suspected. I’ll not have him besmirch my good name. You must hear the truth, and then make him hear it.”

  “Very well. Tell me what you will, and then leave me be. Forever.”

  He stroked his cross again, then his hand dropped to his side. “Nothing happened between us.”

  She stared at him for a long moment. “Nothing?”

  “I did not…force myself on you.”

  What? Impossible!

  He watched her intently. “I see that you doubt me, but I speak true.”

  She looked toward the vaulted ceiling. I don’t believe it. ’Tis a miracle. Thanks be to God! Realization dawned, and anger eclipsed her joy. She met his expectant gaze and clapped her hands. “Hear, hear! All Heaven rejoice and laud your restraint!” Her eyes narrowed. “But you threatened to do it. You grabbed me with intent. You befouled my view of—” Stop! Don’t say it! He could use such words against you.

  “Of what?”

  The priesthood. The Church. Relationships. My own body! “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “You fled York faster than a sinner sinks to Hell!”

  She turned her palms skyward. “What about later? You could’ve written to me. And then at Ravenwood, you had every opportunity to—”

  “To make you squirm, my dear.” He smirked and rubbed his hands together.

  “I told you not to call me that—”

  “And I enjoyed every moment of it.”

  Heat flooded her body. “I’ll bet you did, you loathesome—”

  “Do you know what I loathe? Your entire sex! You flaunt your feminine wiles to waken the basest instincts in men. You tantalize and tease, leading us to sin just like Eve in the garden. But I know your true face. You are Evil itself.”

  “Do not think to lecture me on evil when you yourself wear its cloak. You used your position in the Church to get close to me…close enough to make your move. And whether you attacked me or no, you let me believe you had. You fostered my fear with gleeful malice.”

  “You deserved it, my dear.”

  She clenched her teeth. “For the last time, do not call me that!”

  “What should I call you?” he simpered. “The whore of Babylon?”

  “Only if I may call you the Devil’s spawn.”

  He pointed an imperious finger at her. “Blasphemer! I am an archdeacon of the Church, the Lord’s vessel. You tempted me to sin.”

  She stamped her foot. “I did no such thing! And I am no whore. I’m a wife.”

  “Barely. Cedric told me you chose a spiritual marriage.” He snickered. “Do your prayers warm your bed at night?”

  “No. My husband does.”

  Dominy made a choking sound. Then his eyes narrowed. “Does he now? I knew ’twas only a matter of time before you spread your legs for him.”

  “And how right you were! But I’ll not let you soil the bond he and I share. There is grace
to be found in marriage, and I am all the stronger for it.”

  He sneered. “Your only strength is in your wickedness.”

  “You’re wrong. You’ve lost your power over me.” Her eyes widened. ’Tis true. I’m free! The surrounding air felt cooler, lighter. A sense of calm descended. ’Twas as if she’d stepped outside of herself, beyond the situation, and observed it with detachment.

  Dominy was a villain, but he couldn’t harm her. Not her true self, her soul. He’d lost his way, but he couldn’t drag her alongside of him unless she allowed it. Unless she clung to the hate that no longer served her.

  Bemused, she smiled. “I can hardly believe I’m saying this, but I forgive you.”

  “You forgive me?”

  “I do.”

  His eyes flared. “’Tis not your place to absolve me. I am God’s voice on earth, and you are nothing. You should drop to your knees and beg my forgiveness!”

  She shook her head. “’Tis no use. Your words are empty. So is your office.”

  “But your womb isn’t empty, is it? Your wretched knight has despoiled it! You were mine, Constance. Mine! And if he can sample your pleasures, so can I.” The straw crunched and swished beneath him as he slithered toward her.

  Abruptly, he stopped. His face contorted into a mask of horror as he stared toward the altar behind her.

  Her hair stood on end, but she was strangely unafraid. Her body and its reaction served only as a gauge, an indicator of the extraordinary. For they were not alone.

  ****

  Robert raced to the church door, intent on bursting in. At the last second, he hesitated. Who knew what waited within? Archdeacon Dominy had proven himself capable of almost anything. Perhaps ’twas best to sneak inside.

  He eased open the door, just wide enough to slip in sideways. But once inside, he froze. What?

  Archdeacon Dominy. Constance. Both faced the altar and the one who stood before it.

  A second Constance!

  Impossible! He squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, the same scene met his gaze. There were two Constances, identical in every way but dress. The one closest to the archdeacon wore a headdress and green gown; the other, no headdress and a flowing, gray tunic.

  The former spoke. “Are you the ghost that’s been haunting Druid’s Head?”

  The latter answered with a single nod of her head.

  Crossing himself, Dominy backed away from them both. “No. Not again.”

  Robert found his feet and hid behind the nearest pillar. No one had noticed his entrance, and for the time being, he’d keep it that way.

  The Constance in green turned to the archdeacon. “Again? What do you mean?”

  Dominy halted. “That day in York…just as you fainted…” He pointed to the figure in gray. “She appeared. A very demon sent from Hell to confuse me! What could I do? I fled the sacristy forthwith.”

  “And left me there, unconscious and unharmed on the floor.”

  Robert’s heart beat faster. Unharmed? The assault was cut short. He didn’t follow through with it! A rush of gratitude and relief streamed through him.

  Constance regarded her other self. “You saved me.” She gasped. “And you were the shadow of movement Lord Nihtscua saw!”

  “Lord Nihtscua?” Aversion drenched Dominy’s tone. “What has he to do with this?”

  She spun back around. “He had a vision of the moment you attacked me.”

  Wulfstan’s post-wedding advice echoed in Robert’s mind. The lady will tell you when she’s ready. But you can help her along with patience and gentleness, both of which I know you possess. He’d seen the attack from her point of view and therefore knew what she needed. No doubt, he felt honor-bound to keep her secret, and he was right to do so.

  The archdeacon took another step back. “A vision! What manner of witchery—”

  “None at all. ’Tis a gift from God.”

  “You spout forth His name as though you can divine His will.”

  Her hands flew to her hips. “The only thing spouting forth is your arrogance. You might want to stem its flow, especially in light of your own sin.”

  “Oh. We’re comparing sins, are we?” Dominy clenched his fists. “My only offense is allowing myself to be smitten by your charms. But you! You seduced a man of God. You tricked me into believing you wanted me too.”

  “I did not! You warped my regard for your office. That is all.”

  “You have no regard for anyone but yourself. You should show me—” He pointed heavenward. “Show Him more respect. We are in a church!”

  “That makes no difference.”

  The archdeacon gasped.

  She practically glowed with fervor. “God is everywhere! And I promise you, He was in that sacristy.”

  The figure in gray approached Constance from behind and laid a hand on her shoulder.

  Constance’s brow smoothed, and her hands dropped to her sides. She turned to face her reflection. “And somehow, so were you.”

  Simultaneously, each extended a hand to the other. As their palms connected, the silent Constance became transparent. She glided forward, disappearing as the two merged into one.

  The sight touched a chord deep within Robert. It set things right, restored him in a way he hadn’t known he needed. Until now.

  Wait! My dream in the Holy Land. The woman wore gray, just like…

  “You cannot hurt me.” Constance sounded confident and calm as she addressed the archdeacon. “Not anymore.”

  For one charged, pregnant second, Dominy remained statue-still. “Watch me!” He lunged toward her.

  Robert bounded into the open. “Unhand her this instant!”

  The archdeacon’s head whipped around, even as he grabbed Constance’s shoulders. “You!”

  Constance wriggled free of his grasp and dashed to Robert’s side.

  Dominy glowered at the pair of them. “The fires of Hell reach out for you both.”

  Robert watched him through narrowed eyes. You craven coward! ’Tis your turn to squirm. “I’m not opposed to a good blaze. How about you? If hellfire does exist, it surely licks your heels.”

  “Oh, it exists!” He clutched his pectoral cross. “But not for a servant of God, like me. Just wait until I tell others what I’ve seen here today.”

  Robert fingered the dagger at his waist. “What have you seen, exactly?”

  “Devilry.”

  “Drivel.”

  The archdeacon’s eyes widened. “You dare to mock my judgment?”

  “I’d mock anything so misbegotten, and that includes you. You’re lucky I haven’t killed you on principle alone.” Again, his fingers grazed the hilt of his dagger.

  Dominy took notice. “Are you trying to threaten me, stroking your dagger thus? I am not scared.”

  How about now? Robert’s sword hissed as he freed it from its scabbard.

  Dominy flinched and backed toward the altar.

  Robert aimed the blade’s tip at the archdeacon’s chest. “Does this scare you? Because it should.” He inched forward, intent only on threatening him but poised to strike if necessary. “I made great use of it in the Holy Land. I’m quite certain ’twould relish the chance to gut a less-than-holy man.”

  “Robert, stop!” Constance gripped his forearm with considerable strength. “There are other ways of dealing with him.”

  He halted, then shoved his sword back in its sheath. “For instance?”

  She released his arm. “I could make known his treachery today.”

  A grating sound in Dominy’s throat spewed from his mouth as laughter. “Whom would the people believe?” The simpering serpent’s gaze raked over her body. “A twice-failed postulant or an archdeacon of York?”

  Robert stepped forward. “I’ll tell you whom. Lady Constance, a woman of goodness and grace. Sir Robert le Donjon, Master of Druid’s Head. And if warranted, Lord Nihtscua. He’s renowned in the North for his visions, and I assure you, he’d back our claims.”

&n
bsp; “A heathen such as he cannot touch a righteous man.” With arms outstretched, Dominy turned up his palms and lifted his gaze toward the rafters. “I have the ear of the Church.”

  “My brother has the ear of the king.”

  The archdeacon’s hands dropped as he regarded Robert. “Lord Ravenwood. Does he know—”

  “He shall, unless you quit this area and keep your mouth shut. From this day forward, you will forget my wife and leave us alone. You will also leave Ravenwood.”

  Dominy pouted. “But Cedric is—”

  “Father Cedric will thank every angel in Heaven for your departure. And you’ll be York’s problem, not ours.”

  “I cannot just—”

  “You can, and you shall! If you value your status as Archdeacon, you’ll do as I say. Otherwise, I’ll see you stripped of your title and position.” Robert closed his hand around the hilt of his sword and infused his voice with all the menace he could muster. “And if you ever bother us again, I shall personally deliver the death blow you so richly deserve.”

  Dominy’s gaze shifted to Constance, then back to Robert. With a grumble, he clomped to the east door and exited the church.

  The door closed behind him with a resounding bang. ’Twas the sound of triumph, and Robert sighed with satisfaction.

  He turned to Constance as she flung herself against him. He locked his arms around her and planted kisses on her forehead, her cheeks, and finally her mouth. Awash with emotion, he gave himself to the kiss.

  It all flowed through him. His fear for her safety. His present relief. Euphoria. Passion.

  After a timeless moment, she pulled back and gazed into his eyes. “Oh, Robert! You’re here. And he’s gone…for good!” Unshed tears gleamed in her eyes. She blinked, and they trickled down her cheeks.

  He wiped away her tears. “Don’t cry, Constance. All is well.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m crying.” She sniffed, smiled up at him, and sighed. “I feel like I can finally breathe!”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “Did Alice tell you I was here?”

  He shook his head. “Guy did. But then I saw Father Leof in the bailey and knew something was amiss.”

  “When did you arrive? That is, how much did you see and hear?”

  He caressed her cheek. “Enough to know ’twas I who took your maidenhead.”