by Jo Beverley
Organizing an escape would be very dangerous. Galeran had returned from the convent concerned and angry, but he still seemed to think the confinement there of little importance. He was confident that the king would approve his case and Jehanne would go free.
So why did Jehanne want to be rescued so she could intrude upon the king? Aline was right, Jehanne was no fool. Nor, despite her past mistakes, was she foolishly willful. Raoul very much feared she was intent upon offering herself up for punishment to prevent Galeran from having to face Lowick at sword's length.
If Raoul aided and abetted her in that, he'd probably end up facing his friend in combat himself!
When he arrived at the convent, he rang the bell hanging beside the portal. When the peep door opened, he asked, "I come seeking news of the Lady Aline. Has she been found?"
"No, sir."
"May I come in and speak to the mother superior on the matter?"
Somewhat reluctantly, the convent door was opened fully so he could step through. In moments he was in the mother superior's plain room.
"You have news of the silly child?" the mother superior asked, annoyance warring with concern.
"I came with the same question. She is not used to such a city. I fear for her."
"As do I," snapped the woman. "I have no idea what can have possessed her to do such a thing. And she almost a nun herself."
"Could I speak to the Lady Jehanne? I wonder if Aline has relatives or friends nearby with whom she might have taken refuge."
The mother superior frowned at him for a moment, but then nodded and led him out of her room, around the cloister, to another. Raoul took in as much of the place as he could.
She unlocked a door and led him in. Jehanne was kneeling in prayer, but when spoken to, she jerked around as if startled.
"Does she know?" Raoul asked. He tried to make it soft, but Jehanne heard anyway.
"Know what?" she asked, rising sharply and giving a gasp, almost of pain.
"That Aline has disappeared," Raoul said, watching her carefully.
She was steadying herself with a hand on the prie-dieu, and looked paler than usual. "Disappeared? How? What is going on?" Her very blankness told him she was hiding something. Then she added, "Donata?" But Raoul knew she had no real fear for her child.
"The child is safe with her nurse," said the mother superior. "For some reason, your cousin tricked her way out of St. Hilda's and has not been seen since. London is a city of many dangers."
Jehanne's eyes moved to Raoul, seeking truth. He deliberately didn't give it to her. "I wondered if she might have friends or family in the city."
"No. None that I know of." Her hand on the prie-dieu tightened so her knuckles shone white. "Oh, God help her...."
He couldn't torment her like this. He gave a tiny nod.
She almost gave them away then, but covered her sigh of relief by turning it into a sob, covering her face. "Oh, by the sweet Virgin, what other disaster can there be? And it is all my fault, all my fault!" She pulled down her hands and stared at him. "Find her, Raoul. Help us!"
That last plea, he knew, was not about Aline.
He was still troubled by the whole matter, especially about keeping secrets from Galeran, but he nodded. "I'll do my best. The king has men out searching for her too. Do you have any idea why she might have run away?"
She shook her head.
"You know that the king is to hear your case tomorrow?"
"Yes. I wish I could be there."
That was direct. "I doubt you will be called to attend. And I doubt Galeran would want it."
"Galeran seems to want to pretend I had no part in this."
"Even he cannot hide it. There is no reason for you to attend. You have nothing to offer or prove."
"Perhaps not." But her eyes sent a different message.
Raoul saw the mother superior growing impatient at their talk. "If you have a message for Galeran, I could take it to him."
"You can tell him I want to be at his side during the hearing, but I doubt it will sway him."
Raoul nodded. "And meanwhile you are all right? I feared some mistreatment had made Aline run from here."
"I am content."
With that, he had to leave. It was getting dark—the bells of compline sounded as he left—and he must return to Aline. He stopped at Corser Street to find Galeran pacing, haggard.
"Aline is safe," Raoul said.
"God be thanked!" Galeran grasped his arm. "Unharmed? Where is she?"
"In a safe place. I didn't feel able to bring her back here."
Galeran ran his hands through his hair. "No. I wouldn't be surprised to find the house is watched. I wish I understood what is behind all this."
"I think I should return to her. She is rather frightened."
"Then why flee the convent in the first place?" Galeran was relaxing enough to be irritated, but—thank heavens—too distracted to pursue his own question. Instead, he looked sharply at Raoul. "Are you intending to spend the night with her?"
"In a manner of speaking."
Galeran pulled out his silver cross containing water from the River Jordan. "Swear on this. Swear that you will not dishonor her."
"You might trust me, my friend."
"I do. I trust you not to break your sworn oath, no matter what the temptation."
Raoul placed his hand on the cross and made the oath, feeling a comfort from it, from the reinforcing of his good intentions. This made him wonder yet again about the wisdom of keeping secrets from Galeran.
Ah, well. He had a night to consider it, since he wouldn't be doing more interesting things.
"I also stopped by the convent," he said, "and spoke to Jehanne. She seems well, though rather strained by it all. That's hardly surprising. You look stretched tight as a bowstring yourself. Everyone is safe for now. Get some sleep."
Galeran laughed and rolled his shoulders. "Yes, nursemaid."
"You may have to fight tomorrow. You need your wits sharp and your body rested."
And, by God, thought Raoul, he could sympathize a little with Jehanne. Standing by to watch Galeran face death would be harder than facing the ordeal himself.
* * *
In the convent, the mother superior returned to the cell, armed with her rod. "What is your foolish cousin up to, Lady Jehanne?"
"I don't know."
"I think you do. You are a wickedly willful woman, and you need to pay for her peril as well as for your sins."
Jehanne turned to kneel, accepting the mother superior's judgment. She had not considered how Aline was to recruit Raoul's help, and thus had put her into danger. She'd do it again, though, to keep Galeran safe.
"May the Lord forgive his wretched sinner."
"Amen."
Jehanne sincerely prayed for forgiveness as the strokes began, applied this time with considerably more vigor. By the fifth stroke, her control broke, and she cried out.
* * *
Raoul returned to Helswith's house by a circuitous route, making as sure as possible that he wasn't followed. As he went he considered the options. He'd assessed the convent, and it would be child's play to remove Jehanne from it. Violating a church establishment, however, was not a risk to be taken lightly.
Even if he extracted Jehanne without penalty, he would then have to escort her to Westminster and into the king's presence, thus proclaiming the sinful crime to all. He found it hard to imagine that this would make the king more likely to favor their case.
Underlying, or perhaps overlaying, all these concerns was the thought that he was about to spend the night with Aline, who strained his control to breaking point.
She'd accomplished her mission and contacted him, so she could be returned to the convent. There were two arguments against that. One was that she might be punished. The other was that one of his plans for liberating Jehanne involved returning Aline tomorrow morning.
And, of course, there was the fact that he wanted this night, tormenting though it pr
omised to be.
Just a night to talk.
A night to hold her.
A night to teach her a little more about her wonderful body...
He cursed softly. He was already hard.
He gave thanks for his sworn oath to Galeran which made weakness impossible.
In Cheapside, he bought a wineskin, a roasted rabbit, and a loaf of bread. He was hungry, and he didn't think someone with Aline's rich curves would be a sparse eater.
Dame Helswith let him into the house, which now hummed like a beehive with illicit activities. Laughter, gasps, groans, bumps...
Hurrying up to Aline, he berated himself for not finding a better place. But what other place? He was sure the king's men would have checked the inns, and even if he knew other private households well enough to ask for lodging, they would not want to house a fugitive.
No, this was best, but it offended him mightily that his future wife even enter such a place.
He rapped gently on the door, saying, "It's me. Raoul," before entering. He had no desire to be knifed.
Even with the warning, Aline was standing ready, knife grasped competently and held close to her body, ready for a killing thrust.
He grinned with delight. "Ah, Aline, you are a splendid woman."
"Am I? I thought I was a frightened one." And her eyes were still wide with fear.
"It's what people do when they're frightened that matters." He put his purchases on the table. A rather more substantial one than the rickety assembly of planks in Paul's crude room. He could sit her on this one.... "Do you want to keep the knife?"
She looked at it, then shuddered and tossed it on the table. "No, thank you. If anyone attacks, you can handle it."
As long as it's not me.
He used it to cut the bread, then tore the rabbit into chunks. "Eat. Drink."
She picked up a thin leg. "What happened at the convent?"
"I was able to reassure Jehanne that you were safe. She also managed to tell me directly that she wants to be at the hearing." He squirted some wine into his mouth and swallowed. "You're right. She seems serious about it. Not at all petulant."
He passed her the wineskin, but she just clutched it. "Jehanne is never petulant. You probably haven't seen her at her best. She's so strong. So brave..."
"I'm not sure women are supposed to be strong and brave." He was partly teasing, but he knew that a woman like Jehanne was not the wife for him.
"You prefer them weak and timid?" Aline asked, turning rigid with affront.
"Perhaps just a little less likely to rush into trouble."
She raised the skin and tilted it to shoot a stream of wine into her mouth. "I see," she remarked, wiping her mouth. "But of course we women aren't supposed to mind when men—driven by their strength and bravery, not to mention their pride and boneheadedness—rush into trouble, then come limping home to be soothed and mended."
"I'd like to limp home to be soothed and mended by you, Aline."
She stared at him, face softening into confusion. She had the uncapped wineskin clutched in her arms and must have squeezed it. A stream of wine shot out to hit the wall.
He laughed and rescued it. "Let's not argue or talk of things that can wait. Eat, and then we'll try to get some sleep amid all the noise."
She colored slightly as she pulled a bit of meat off the rabbit. "I've never heard people be quite so noisy about—"
"Perhaps they feel less inhibited here than in the castle hall."
She popped the meat into her mouth and chewed. "But I've heard groans and screams...."
As if to confirm her point, a choked wail echoed through the house, building then fading into irregular yelps. Raoul felt his own face heat. "It's probably an indication of pleasure not pain, Aline."
"Pleasure?"
"Oh, Christ's crown, we can't stay here." Raoul had never been a great user of houses of convenience such as this, so he'd not realized just how intrusive the other inhabitants would be. It wasn't merely that it embarrassed Aline, and even embarrassed him. It was too arousing.
He gathered the food and drink. "Come on."
"Where?" Aline moved quickly and put herself between him and the door. "Where? I know as well as you that word will have been sent to inns and hostelries. If you're going to take me anywhere, it will have to be back to the convent."
"Perhaps that would be as well."
"I don't want to go back. I know the mother superior's type. She'll ready with her rod."
"She wouldn't dare."
"She would probably claim that I'm as good as a nun and thus under her jurisdiction. We stay here."
"I doubt we'll get much rest."
"I can sleep almost anywhere, under almost any circumstances."
It would be foolish to leave, and so he gave in. "Very well. We stay." He spread the food out again and sat on the bed to eat. As he'd thought, she had a hearty appetite, and did her fair share of the damage. After a while it did become possible to ignore the surrounding noises except the occasional shriek or wail.
But after one sharp wail she asked, "Are you sure?"
"Yes." He wasn't entirely, but he didn't feel up to explaining to Aline the peculiar ways in which some people found sexual pleasure.
She shook her head and chewed on the last of the bread.
When it was all gone, he pulled back the thin covers on the bed. "Come on. In you go."
She did look wary at that, but slipped under the covers, wriggling over against the wall, the bracken in the mattress rustling with every move.
"It's all right. You can have the whole bed."
"You can't sleep properly on the floor."
"I'll manage."
"Raoul de Jouray, stop being foolish. You need a good night's rest too. Get into bed. I promise to scream and fight if you try to rape me."
He couldn't help laughing. "Truly?" he teased.
"Truly. I have no intention of losing my maidenhead in a place like this."
She was completely serious, and being Aline, she would fight like a she-wolf. He eased into the bed, keeping as close to the edge as he could. "Perhaps I do like women who are strong and brave after all."
"Of course you do. The other sort are useless." With that, she rolled over to face the wall, giving all the appearance of someone about to go to sleep.
Raoul turned slightly to stare at her back. He didn't know what he'd expected, but it wasn't this. She should be flustered, embarrassed, restless under the same needs that tormented him. He had intended to at least hold her in his arms as they talked, as they suffered sleeplessness brought on by the noisy house.
A change in her breathing, and then a slight snore on each in breath told him she really had gone straight to sleep.
He grinned up at the ceiling. Aline of Burstock was a remarkable women in every way.
To his surprise, her regular breathing lulled him to sleep far sooner than he'd expected. And if he woke in the morning resting comfortably against her, her warmth and subtle perfume soothing his senses, at least nothing had happened in the night to violate his oath.
Chapter 18
The house was silent now, but faint sounds from the street and the light cutting through a gap in the wooden wall told him it was early morning. Time to attack a crucial day.
He shook Aline gently, nobly resisting the temptation to stoke along the curve of her side, hip, and thigh. He expected to have to be more vigorous, but with a grunt, her breathing changed and she sat up, blinking.
"Is it morning? Already?" She pushed strands of hair off her face and shook herself like a puppy climbing out of the water.
Then she looked at him and suddenly, devastatingly, colored from collar to hairline.
"Good morning," he said.
Her eyes darted around as if expecting to find something new and different in the plain cubicle. Then they settled on him again. "I went right to sleep."
He managed not to laugh. "You said you would."
"What did you do?"
"Eventually, I went to sleep too."
Her eyes did their nervous dance again. "So you didn't...?"
He sat up and captured her face in his hands, turning her so she had to look at him. "Aline, when I make love to you, you will know all about it. And remember it. I promise you that."
She stared at him, pupils so huge as to almost make her blue eyes dark. "Truly?"
He was again tempted to laugh, or perhaps even to get angry, but he did neither. "Truly."
She pulled out of his hold, took a deep breath, and blew it out. "That's all right, then. I'm sorry. I suddenly thought, you see, that it might be impossible for a man to be so close to a woman in a bed for so long without his baser instincts taking over. Of course," she added with a sliding look, "I suppose it depends how much he wants to.... Could you let me out, please?"
With an exhale almost as noisy as hers, Raoul grabbed her shoulders, forced her down, and rolled on top of her.
"What—"
"Stop chattering. If you force your skittering mind down to the lower part of your body, you should be able to feel just how much I want to make love to you. If I'm going to be so painfully noble, I at least want the credit for it."
Her eyes were still beguilingly dark, and now her full lips parted softly, temptingly. "Oh."
This must surely, thought Raoul, be the most challenging thing he had ever done in his life. Despite his thundering heart and a proof of devotion that was beginning to protest urgently, he kept his voice calm. "I desire you, Aline. Very much. As soon as other matters are settled, we are going to talk about the future and see if there is a way we can be together. The tortures of the damned, however, would not push me into dishonoring you, especially without your consent, and without you waking up. Which, when I think about it, would be just about impossible."
"Oh," she said again. "I'm sorry. But I couldn't know for sure...."
"I suppose not."
She licked her lips, which would have been wickedly cruel if she'd had any idea of how it affected him. "What constitutes dishonoring?"
"Aline!"
"I was just thinking that perhaps you could kiss me...."
"Just how strong do you think I am?"
"Infinitely." And she meant it, poor, deluded maid.
