by Speer, Flora
“Aye,” agreed the man-at-arms. “I’ve heard stories about Count Clodion. Mistress, you should never be alone with him.”
“He pursued me,” Danise said, “though I swear to you, I don’t know why he persists. He must know I dislike him. In the future, I will stay as far away from him as I can,” she vowed.
Oddly, after that incident Clodion kept his own distance from her, and she soon pushed his outrageous suggestions to the back of her mind in order to concentrate on her duties to the queen. Hildegarde’s current pregnancy was a difficult one and was not made any easier by a series of overly warm, humid days when there was no breeze at all. The sun beamed down as if it were already midsummer, and inside the royal tents the air was stifling. Only within the shade of the forest was there any relief to be found from the oppressive heat. Danise and the other ladies piled up mattresses beneath the trees so Hildegarde and her children could rest there.
On an unbearably hot afternoon, with the queen and her children napping in the shade and Sister Gertrude and several other women sitting near her, Danise was given some free time. Feeling restless she made her way to the riverbank not far from her father’s tents. There she stood beneath an ancient oak, staring at the water without seeing it. Half formed images floated through her mind. Recollections of Hugo, grown dim and soft with the passage of time, were quickly replaced by more recent memories of Michel sorely injured as she had first seen him, and then of Michel returned to health, clad in chain mail and sitting upon his gray horse. She recalled his kisses and the way he had embraced her with a firm yet gentle strength. She remembered his hands upon her body. And she wondered again why he was now treating her so coolly.
“It is too hot to think on such serious subjects,” she muttered, pushing back a loose piece of hair and tucking it behind her ear. “The river will cool me.”
She looked around to be sure there was no one to see her. Apparently anyone who did not have a pressing duty had gone off to seek the green shade of the forest. Convinced that she was completely alone, Danise pulled off her dress, shoes and stockings. After a moment’s hesitation, she removed her shift, too. Then she stepped away from the oak tree and into the water.
It was as cool as she had imagined it would be, a lovely refreshment from the heat of the day. Danise waded out from the riverbank until she was waist deep before she began to splash water onto her breasts and shoulders and arms. Because of the heat she was wearing her hair pinned up in a topknot to keep it off her neck, so she did not need to worry about it getting wet. After rinsing her face she sank into the water until it reached her chin. There she floated, drifting a bit with the current, but never moving far from the place where her clothes were folded at the base of the oak tree. Knowing it would only lead to useless confusion, she tried not to think about her personal dilemma over the choices she would soon have to make. This was an hour in which to relax and think about nothing at all.
When she was sufficiently cooled, she lazily worked her way back to shore. She stood on the riverbank for a moment, rubbing the excess moisture off her body with her hands, before she picked up her shift and put it on. She was still damp, so the garment clung to her, revealing the high, pointed tips of her breasts and the curving lines of hip and thigh. She did not care if her undergarment was wet. Perhaps the dampness would help to keep her cool. Her dress was blue silk, light in weight and loose in style. She was just reaching for it when she heard a sound. She looked up to see a man coming down the sloping ground toward her.
“Michel, I did not know you had returned. Where is my father?” Then, blushing, she added, “Have you been watching me?”
“I didn’t know you were here,” he said. “I was planning to bathe, myself. We’ve had a long, hot ride.” His chest was bare. The tunic he had just pulled off was slung over one shoulder.
“You are staring at me,” she accused.
“Who wouldn’t?” He did stare then, letting his glance roam slowly from her flushed cheeks to her parted lips, to her slender shoulders and throat and then on to the figure so clearly revealed by the inadequate linen shift, and finally to her legs and bare feet below the hem of the shift. For a moment or two longing was written clearly upon his face, before he pulled cool distain across his features like a veil hiding his true emotions. “If you don’t want people to look at you, then wear more clothing.”
“I was here first,” she declared, her nervous embarrassment giving way to irritation. “When you saw me, you should have gone away at once, instead of remaining to spy on me.”
“I wasn’t spying,” he said wearily. He tossed his tunic onto the ground and tugged off his shoes, unfastening the leather strips that bound shoes and hose to his lower legs. “Is this the way you treat all your suitors, by snarling like an angry tigress when they speak to you?”
“Since you make a habit of avoiding me,” she snapped, “I did not know you still meant to be a suitor.”
“Danise, I am hot and tired,” he began, but she cut him short.
“I remind you that you intruded on me,” she said, bending to gather up her clothing. “I leave the river to you. Perhaps it will wash away your ill humor.”
“Aren’t you going to dress? You can’t go back to the camp wearing only that – that invisible thing!” When she would have brushed by him, he caught her upper arms, keeping her where she was. “Are you insane, to walk around like that?” he demanded.
“Not at all,” she replied with admirable coolness considering how upset she was by his sudden unexpected appearance and by his manner. “I will dress there, in that clump of bushes where no one, including you, will be able to see me. I assure you, I will not look toward the river to see yon unclothed, so you need have no concern about revealing too much to me. I have recently learned how little you like to reveal of yourself, or of your intentions.”
“You already know what my intentions are. Damn it, Danise, why are you doing this to me?” Jerking her roughly forward, he held her tightly against him while he planted a hard, angry kiss on her half opened mouth. Danise’s damp shift was scant protection against the prickly sensation caused on her breasts by the dark hair of his chest, or against the warmth of his body pressed close to hers from waist to shoulder.
After a moment the kiss changed. His lips on hers ceased to demand and instead began to coax and tease until Danise granted him free access to the inner moistness of her mouth. Michel’s arms went around her, and her hands worked their way about his waist. Her silk dress slid unnoticed from her fingers to the ground. Slowly Danise became aware of a hardness against her thigh. She knew what it was. She reveled in this evidence of his desire for her and sensed a fluid heat beginning in her own body in response to his masculine assertiveness.
“We can’t. We can’t do this.” Too soon he was pushing her away. She raised heavy lids to meet his gaze. For all the delicious surge of desire between them, it seemed he was still annoyed with her. Or perhaps he was hurt by the sharp words she had spoken. “I thought you would understand that I have been trying to prove my worth to Savarec before I approach him about you. And that you would realize we cannot be alone like this until Savarec gives his approval.”
“Then you do want me?” she whispered. “I feared you might have changed your mind since that day in the forest.”
“Oh, yes, I want you. So much that if I don’t take my hands off you right now, I won’t be responsible for my actions.” He released her and stepped away. Casting a rueful look toward the river, he said, “I ought to throw myself in there and swim to the other side. I’m not sure even that would cool me off, not with you standing there as good as naked at the edge of the water like some alluring river sprite.”
“You are quite right, Michel. I ought to dress at once.” But she made no move to pick up the dress she had dropped. “You do intend to speak to my father then, about becoming one of my suitors? Or have you already done so? Perhaps I ought not to be so insistent on knowing, but it is my future we are considering as
well as yours.”
“I have made a good start with Savarec,” Michel said. “I think I have made a favorable impression on him during the last few days. But I need more time. I need a chance to win wealth and perhaps even a title by my sword. I hoped to have a chance to begin earning those prizes by fighting against Autichar, but that was not to be.”
Danise bit her lip, trying to repress a cry of fear. This was the way Hugo had once talked, so sure of gaining all he wanted by proving his valor. Hugo was dead, and she had just besmirched his tender memory by embracing a half unclothed man while she herself was barely covered. Worse, she had let Michel believe she would seriously consider marrying him. How could she think of marrying anyone but Hugo, to whom she had promised her heart for all time? How could she feel such a flood of desire for another man? Why was she so unable to control her feelings for Michel? To hide her shame at her own wanton behavior, Danise spoke coldly.
“I assume you did not find Autichar?”
Michel gave her a puzzled look before answering. “We located a deserted camp where he and his men may have stopped for a night, but we never saw a soul from his troop. It’s too bad we didn’t catch him in some mischief. From what your father says about him, I wouldn’t be surprised if Autichar were up to something devious.”
“Is there anything else you want to tell me, Michel?” She hoped he would reveal that his memory had returned. She was sadly disappointed by his casual answer to her question.
“Only that Savarec ought to be in his tent by now, if you would like to welcome him back in private,” he said.
“Is that all you will say to me?”
“I’ve said all that I decently can,” he replied, “and done more than I should have done by kissing you. I understand that there are certain customs I will have to follow. I need your father’s approval to officially become your suitor. Trust me, Danise. It’ll work out, I promise.”
How could she trust him when he kept something so important from her? Not telling her that his memory had returned was like lying to her, for the omission was meant to lead her to believe an untruth. But she knew about his memory, and his refusal to tell her made his promises worthless.
And how could she trust herself and her own emotions when she gladly returned the embraces of such a man? Sighing, Danise retrieved her garments and began to trudge up the slope toward the bushes she had earlier pointed out to Michel.
“Danise?”
“Yes?” She waited, praying he would say what she wanted to hear, hoping he would trust her enough to tell her everything.
“I do promise,” he said again. “You’ll see, it will be all right.”
“You ought not to make promises you cannot keep,” she replied, and turned her back on him.
Chapter 7
The river was cool, but not cold enough to ease the throbbing at Michel’s groin or calm the disorder of his thoughts. It had taken all of his willpower to keep from pushing Danise down onto the soft grass to make passionate love to her. There had been a moment when he sensed that she would allow it, that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. But he owed a great debt to Savarec and he was determined not to do anything to harm either his benefactor or that benefactor’s daughter. If Danise was to be his, he would win her openly and fairly. As for Danise herself, he could not understand the way she could change in an instant from warm and willing to cool and distant. She should have understood without being told that a man in his position would have to be careful when dealing with his commander’s daughter.
As Michel waded out of the river he noticed Count CIodion waiting for him. Clodion sauntered forward, looking with open interest at Michel’s naked form.
“You are remarkably well-endowed, aren’t you?” Clodion drawled, letting his eyes rest boldly on Michel’s private parts. “Now I begin to understand.”
“Why are you here, Clodion?” With sudden chilling comprehension of how a woman must feel when ogled by a man with sex on his mind, Michel grabbed his tunic and pulled it over his head, tugging it downward to his thighs as quickly as he could.
“Why cover it when it’s so large and handsome?” Clodion leered at him.
“How long have you been here?” Michel demanded.
“Long enough to watch Danise trying to cool her own lust in the river,” Clodion answered. “I was about to reveal myself to her when you appeared. Why, after kissing her so passionately, did you also resort to the water? Why didn’t you sate yourself on her? I would willingly have joined you, you know. Three is always such an interesting grouping.”
“You were hiding so you could watch Danise? Why, you filthy-minded -!” Michel doubled his fist and drew back his arm. Clodion’s self protective reflexes were remarkable. He sprang lightly up the slope, putting himself out of reach before Michel could hit him.
“I must confess, I judged her wrongly,” Clodion said. “I believed for a time that Danise’s favorite was that young fool, Redmond. That I could have borne; Redmond would be easy for me to best in this contest Savarec has set up for us. I have more land than Redmond, a better title, and years more practice in the art of seducing innocent young creatures both male and female. But that Danise’s fancy should light on you, a man with no lands, no title, and as everyone here at Duren knows, no past, is insulting to me. Of course, if you have shown her the marvelous equipment I have just seen, it’s no wonder she has lost her wits over you.”
“Shut up, Clodion!” Michel found himself at a serious disadvantage. He could not run up the slope to where Clodion now stood and throttle the man as he wanted to do, because Michel was still wearing only his short tunic. It took time to pull on breeches and shoes, and to fasten the leather strips around his calves. Meanwhile, Clodion was moving farther away, up the slope and toward the camp where, since the return of Savarec’s troop, there were plenty of men around. Michel knew he would look like an idiot if he went charging after Clodion while only half dressed. He did not want Savarec to think he had no brains, or that he could not control his anger. In this strange time and place, Michel knew his future depended on his ability to think before he acted.
“Do not imagine,” Clodion taunted from his higher vantage point, “that you can win Danise. You will not, I tell you. Not while I am alive.”
“Your death can be arranged if that’s what’s necessary to keep Danise safe from you,” Michel. growled, taking a purposeful step toward the man in spite of his inadequate clothing.
“You would not dare. You are trying too hard to make yourself acceptable to Charles and to Savarec.” Clodion’s perfect confidence and his shrewd assessment of Michel’s thoughts infuriated Michel.
“Why the hell does a decent man like Charles keep someone like you in his company?” Michel shouted.
“Out of gratitude.” Clodion’s mouth curved into a mirthless smile. “In my youth I fought bravely for his father. I have a large contingent of well-trained warriors whom I place at Charles’s disposal whenever he needs to put down another Saxon revolt. A fair number of my men died for him in Spain last year. I do assure you, Charles would not like to see me harmed.” With a jaunty wave of his hand, Clodion marched away.
Michel dressed as quickly as he could, then went in search of Danise.
“She is with the queen,” said the first lady he encountered. “They are there, beneath the trees at the edge of the forest.”
“You may not disturb Hildegarde,” Sister Gertrude warned when Michel approached the gathering of ladies. “She has finally fallen asleep. She needs to rest. This heat wearies her.”
“It was Danise I wanted to see, but you may be a better person to hear what I have to say.” Michel took the nun’s arm, drawing her aside.
“Please keep a close watch on Danise. I have just exchanged angry words with Clodion and I believe he means some harm to her. He is determined to make her his prize.”
“I told Savarec no good would come of allowing that man to ask for Danise’s hand, but he would not listen to me, and I
don’t think he will listen to you, either. In Savarec’s eyes, a fine title eclipses all personal faults.” Sister Gertrude looked even more stern than usual. “Were it not for Clodion’s military skills and his complete loyalty to Charles, I believe he would have been banished from court years ago. Not all of our Frankish nobles are good Christian men, Michel, least of all where women are concerned. In my opinion, Charles is much too tolerant of such disgraceful fellows. And about Clodion, Savarec is a blind fool. Thank you for the warning. I will speak to Danise. I cannot always keep her within eyesight, but I will do my best to protect her.”
But it seemed no warning was needed. Clodion did not appear for the evening meal, and the following morning his servant informed Charles that Clodion was ailing and would keep to his bed that day.
“I will gladly send one of my physicians to attend him,” offered Charles, always ready to assign his own doctors to someone else so they could not annoy him with their concerns for his health.
“Count Clodion bid me tell you he needs only to rest. He is not the youngest of men, you know.” The servant looked distinctly nervous over Charles’s proposal. “My master begs you to allow him to sleep uninterrupted by well-intentioned physicians who will only poke and prod him and make him more uncomfortable.”
“I can understand his feelings,” said Charles, eyeing his physicians with some humor. “Tell Clodion we will respect his wishes.”
“From the guilty look of his servant, I think Clodion may not be sick after all,” Redmond murmured to Michel. “He may have some camp follower in his tent and not want to leave.”
“Let’s hope he sticks to camp followers,” Michel responded.
When Clodion did not leave his tent for a second day, Michel began to relax his vigilance a bit. Mayfield would end in three more days and Danise would be safely removed from Clodion’s vicinity, returning with Savarec to his fortress at Deutz to stay there until summer’s end while she decided whether to marry or to return to Chelles with Sister Gertrude.
