“Oui,” Robert replied weakly. “I’ll be ready. I want—to be as far away from Caen as possible—and I want to see my son. Did you find Espérance yet?”
Baudoin shook his head. “I don’t understand. Who is Espérance?”
“My cat.”
Caedmon and Baudoin looked at each other. “Non, we didn’t find a cat.”
Robert gripped his brother’s arm, surprising Baudoin with his strength. “You must find her.”
Baudoin put his hand on Robert’s. “I’ll try.”
Robert eased his grip. “Merci,” he rasped.
Baudoin turned to Caedmon and whispered, “I’ll send a messenger on ahead.”
~~~
Robert wasn’t able to stay atop his horse. Caedmon helped him remount behind Baudoin and tied his hands loosely around his brother’s waist. Robert lay heavily against his brother’s back as they rode and Baudoin held on to him.
The monks had provided them with salve and from time to time they had to stop when the pain of his lashes became too much. They took him down and applied the salve. The last two hours of the journey were completed in the rain and as they rode into the courtyard of the castle, Robert had to be taken from the horse and carried to a chamber. He had passed out.
Mabelle and Dorianne clung to each other in the downpour, the rain mingling with tears as the bald, broken and blindfolded man was carried into the castle. They followed the sad procession to the chamber, but Baudoin barred their way at the door.
“Why have you not brought him to our chamber, Baudoin?” Dorianne asked.
“Dorianne—maman,” he began, “Robert will need a few hours to regain his strength before you see him.”
Dorianne’s mouth fell open. “But Baudoin,” she stuttered, “I long to see him, to hold him.”
Baudoin clenched his jaw. “He doesn’t want you to see him this way. You must respect his wishes.”
“Come, Dorianne,” Mabelle coaxed. “Robert will sleep now. We have our darling boy home. Baudoin is right. We’ll see him later. We’ll nurse him back to health.”
She led her daughter-by-marriage back to her own chamber where Dorianne took her son from his nursemaid. “Papa is home, Alexandre, everything will be fine now. Papa is home,” she whispered to the gurgling infant, her face streaked with tears.
PASSION IN THE BLOOD
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Robert’s valet Danyel Bonhomme was relieved his master had returned safely. He tiptoed into the chamber to see if the Comte was awake, barely recognizing the gaunt figure prostrate on the bed. Lying on his stomach, Robert struggled for a moment with the blindfold, but then covered his eyes with it again.
“Who’s there?” he asked nervously.
“It’s Danyel, milord, I’m elated you’re home. Shall I prepare a bath for you?”
“Oui. I would like to bathe. That’s one of the pleasures I missed the most. Hot water will be a delight. But not too hot—the wounds on my back.”
“Oui, milord, I understand. I’ll make everything ready, and I’ll lay out clothing for you. Perhaps a bed robe for now?”
His master did not answer right away, and Danyel wondered if he had fallen asleep. Then he heard a whisper. “Probably the best. I don’t intend to do anything today.”
He made the wooden bathtub ready and stable boys filled it with hot water from the kitchens. He was taken aback when the Comte snapped at the boys. “Too much noise. Hurry, you’re making too much noise.”
He laid a thick drying cloth against the back of the tub and helped his master rise. Robert leaned heavily on him as he stepped into the water. Suddenly he swayed and grasped Danyel’s arm more tightly, his fingers digging into flesh.
“You won’t let me fall? I can’t…see.”
“Non, milord,” Danyel replied, worried at the look of abject fear on his lord’s face. “I won’t let you fall.”
Carefully he helped his master settle into the hot water, placing a cloth and soap in his hands. “Madame la Comtesse has asked me if you’re awake yet, milord. Shall I tell her to enter?”
“Non,” Robert said quickly. “I’ll bathe first.”
“As you wish, milord. I’ll inform la Comtesse.”
~~~
Robert tried half heartedly to wash his body, but didn’t have the energy. The soothing warmth of the water relaxed him and he dozed until he became aware of the soft feel of the soaped cloth on his skin. “Merci Danyel, I’m as weak as a babe.”
When there was no reply, he became alarmed, fearful as to who was in the chamber with him. Roughly, he grasped the hand and stilled it. He could feel immediately it was a woman’s hand and the panicked notion it might be his wife took hold of him. “Non!” he rasped.
Dorianne whispered, “Robert, be calm, my love. I want to wash you.”
He shook his head and forced her hand away from his body. “You’ll never wash the stink from me, Dorianne. I don’t want you to look at my body. I’m not the man I was.”
His wife pulled against his grip. “Robert, you insult me if you believe I married you only for your body,” she said softly. “Let me help you. Please don’t shut me out. I was also abducted. I need your comfort.”
Her words gnawed his heart. He laid her hand against his cheek. “Dorianne, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I failed you.”
She cupped his face in both hands and kissed his parched lips. “Non, Robert. I failed you. I trusted Pierre.”
Robert shuddered. “Wash me, Dorianne. Help me cleanse my soul of this torment.”
She took the cloth and washed his ravaged body, then helped him stand and step out of the tub. He leaned on her, shaking with the effort.
“Hold on to the chair while I dry you,” she said. “Danyel has laid out your robe. I’ll help you dress.”
He gripped the chair, feeling nauseous. “You’re not my servant.”
Dorianne dabbed carefully at the livid scars on his back. “Robert, I love you. I’ll serve you all my life. I’ll be the one to nurse you back to health.”
She dried his body, kissing him tenderly as she applied salve to his back. The painful pleasure was more than he could bear, but he did not have the strength to fight her.
“Now get back into bed and I’ll fetch your son. Your mother is anxious to see you.”
He sat on the bed with her help. “How can you love what I’ve become? Even my mother won’t recognize me. I can barely walk.”
Dorianne cupped his face in her hands. “Robert, because the Duke wanted to destroy you doesn’t make you less of a man. That dubious honor falls to him and my mad brother.”
She went to the door where her mother-by-marriage waited with the babe. She took her son so Mabelle could untie Robert’s blindfold. He squinted to look at his mother for the first time in months. The long ordeal had taken its toll. She had aged. She would have missed his father’s support and guidance during the abduction. She embraced him, her eyes filled with tears, her voice breaking. “Welcome home, my son. I know you’re anxious to meet my grandson.”
He had avoided looking at Dorianne, afraid he would see how repulsive she found him. Now he dragged his eyes to her face. She too had not escaped unscathed. She had gained weight, which was to be expected, but fear, not revulsion haunted her. He wanted to cover the face he had longed to see with a thousand kisses—anything to remove the fear from her eyes.
Dorianne placed the child in his father’s arms, opening the swaddling cloths to let him see his son’s maleness. Robert gazed into eyes as blue as his own then cradled his son against his body, rocking back and forth. “What’s your name, mon fils? I’m your father, Robert de Montbryce.”
A sob escaped Dorianne’s throat. “I named him Alexandre, for the warrior king Alexander of Macedonia. I wanted him to have a strong name.”
“Alexandre de Montbryce,” Robert murmured.
The baby fussed. Robert trembled “Your Papa is afraid to drop you. You need your maman.”
He handed the child ba
ck to Dorianne. She adjusted her dress and chemise, settled on the edge of Robert’s bed and put the baby to her breast. Robert became aroused at the sight of the boy suckling, but his arousal brought home to him sharply the shame ingrained in him during his captivity when he had been unable to control his burning need. He lay back on the pillow and closed his eyes, fatigue and guilt sweeping over him. “Leave me now. I’m tired,” he said coldly.
Mabelle eyed him curiously and suggested they wait until the baby had finished.
He became more agitated. “Non, maman, leave me now—please.”
“It’s all right, Robert. We’ll go. I’ll bring Alexandre back when you’ve rested,” Dorianne said softly.
After they left the chamber, Robert put his head in his hands. He had sent away the very people he had longed to see when he was a captive. He could not understand his own actions. He ran his hand over his head and felt the light stubble. “Poor Alexandre. What a sight for his first glimpse of his father. No wonder my mother looked at me strangely.”
Exhaustion weighed heavily and he slept.
~~~
Alexandre was still fussing as Mabelle and Dorianne left Robert’s chamber. Mabelle held out her hands. “Let me take him to the wet nurse, Dorianne. You need rest.”
Could her mother-by-marriage see the agony in her eyes? She had expected it to be bad, but it was much worse than her worst nightmare.
She nodded woodenly and handed the squirming infant over. Mabelle hurried off with him, and Dorianne turned to go to her own chamber. She controlled the urge to scream until her head was buried in her pillow. The sobs racked her body until she thought she might choke. She still loved Robert, but this was going to take much more than love to heal. Something in her husband had died. She could see it in his eyes. Would she be equal to the task of bringing him back to life?
He would never love her again after what she had allowed her brother to do to him. She vowed to atone for her brother’s sin by accepting that Robert would be repulsed by her. She would love him anyway.
~~~
Robert woke to find Baudoin and Caedmon standing beside his bed. Baudoin smiled. “You look better already. Better than you did in Caen at any rate.”
Robert shrugged, then regretted the movement.
Baudoin sat on the edge of the bed. “Caedmon and I are leaving today. We’ll catch up to the King and return to England with him. I’m sorry we can’t stay longer, but you’re well armed and guarded here, and Curthose will keep out of harm’s way for the moment.”
“Baudoin, Caedmon, I owe you my life,” Robert said humbly.
Baudoin grinned at him, but Robert could see his brother did not want to let his emotions show. “Make the best of that life then, brother.”
Robert rose slowly from the bed and the three clasped hands.
Caedmon too was emotional. “Take care of your little lad, Robert. He needs a strong father, and Dorianne needs you. She suffered. It was her courage carried them both through.”
“I know,” Robert whispered. “Godspeed.”
PASSION IN THE BLOOD
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Mabelle worried. In the two months since his release Robert had regained some weight, and looked physically better, but his recovery was not easy for him, or for Dorianne. She suspected they had not lain together since her son’s return. Dorianne had lost her buoyant nature.
Mabelle commented on Robert’s improved appearance to her daughter-by-marriage as they sat together in the gallery, embroidering a new banner for the Hall.
Dorianne smiled. “Oui, he trains with the men, rebuilding his muscles.”
Mabelle looked at her thoughtfully and continued sewing for several minutes before she spoke again. “Are the lacerations on his back healed?”
Dorianne hesitated. “Oui, but he’ll be scarred.”
Both women knew it was an ignominious mark no Norman of noble birth should have to bear.
The pop of the sharp needles puncturing the heavy fabric and the whisper of the embroidery silk as they pulled the threads were the only sounds in the still air. Mabelle did not know if she should interfere or if Dorianne would resent her for it.
“Does he sleep well?”
Dorianne looked up quickly and tensed her shoulders. Then she looked away, but not before Mabelle had seen the desolation in her eyes.
Mabelle tucked her needle into the fabric and put her hand on Dorianne’s. “Sometimes a burden shared—”
Dorianne drew in a long breath and a tear trickled down her cheek. “We no longer share a chamber, but I know he has nightmares. Hellish nightmares.”
Mabelle put her arm around Dorianne’s shoulders and hugged her. “It’s to be expected, I suppose, but it can’t be easy for you.”
Dorianne sniffled. “He dreams of the horrors he endured, of the flogging, of the moment he thought all was lost and he would die alone. I know it’s because of the nightmares he’s afraid to share my bed. He curls up every night with the cat he procured from the rat-catcher. He dotes on the creature.”
“Baudoin told me Robert murmured your name when they found him, but it was a cat’s cry that first alerted them.”
A wail escaped Dorianne’s lips. “I love him, but sometimes he flies into violent rages at the slightest provocation. It’s hard to gentle him back to calmness. He complains of strange noises no one else can hear. Sometimes I’m afraid. How can he not blame me for trusting my brother?”
Mabelle had seen some of the terrifying rages Dorianne spoke of. “I too have seen insignificant things send him into a panic.”
Dorianne wiped away tears. “One day when Alexandre spat up his food, Robert broke down and cried.”
Mabelle was bereft she did not know how to resolve these problems. How she longed for Ram’s comfort. He would have known how to help Robert in his recovery. She and Dorianne stayed in the gallery, holding hands, until darkness fell.
~~~
Though his body was stronger, Robert was painfully aware he was not recovering from his ordeal. He often woke in the night panting, terrified of suffocating. He wanted to lie with his wife, but was still overwhelmed with guilt. He was an unworthy sinner.
Alexandre’s insistent cries for nourishment threatened to send him over the edge and he became verbally abusive. “Silence your whining child, Dorianne. By the saints, feed the boy.”
He avoided his daughters, afraid of his impatience with their shrieks of laughter. He raged inwardly, knowing how hurtful his words were to his wife. He longed to hold her, caress her and make love to her, but he was afraid and full of shame. He was not worthy of her.
The unrelenting desire for vengeance sometimes threatened to engulf him. He dreamt of the different ways he would torture and kill Curthose. His black humors were short lived and he was always contrite. It was difficult for everyone and he could tell his behavior was taking a toll on his mother especially. She spent most of her days in the crypt and he suspected she went there to “talk” to his father.
One day his mother did not appear for the evening meal. Robert went down into the crypt knowing he would find her there. On Ram’s tomb she had placed a posy of bluebells picked earlier in the day with the help of one of the maidservants. Her head rested on her husband’s tomb, her arms around the neck of the stone effigy on its surface. He called his mother’s name, but she did not respond, and before he touched her he knew she was dead.
“Maman,” he whispered tearfully. “You are at last reunited with your beloved Ram.” With all the strength he could muster, he carried her up to her chamber.
Mabelle de Montbryce’s remains were entombed beside her husband’s. They lay side by side in death as they did in life, watched over by the Montbryce crest and motto, “Fide et Virtute! Faith and Valour.”
Dorianne keened at Robert’s side. He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, feeling her tremble.
“I will miss her,” she whimpered.
He recognised guiltily that his mother h
ad been his wife’s only comfort while he dealt with his demons. He looked up at the crest as the bishop completed the funerary rites. He had kept faith and survived his torment. He swore to his dead mother and father he would bring only honor to the family name, and he silently thanked them for their gifts of courage and love. He could not have survived his ordeal without them.
He promised to fill his own life and those of his wife and children with love. He would recover from his captivity because of the love Dorianne had for him. She was nursing him back to health, helping him slay his demons. One day he would be whole again.
PASSION IN THE BLOOD
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
With his problems in England resolved, King Henry returned to Normandie in the summer of the year of Our Lord One Thousand One Hundred and Six. Robert de Montbryce wanted desperately to fight with Henry against Curthose and deemed he was sufficiently recovered. He had to be part of the destruction of Curthose. He needed the closure.
After taking the fortified abbey of Saint-Pierre-sur-Dives, Henry’s army turned south and besieged the castle of Tinchebray, on a hill above the town, not far from Caen. Tinchebray, on the border of the county of Mortain, in the southwest of Normandie, was held by the Comte, who was one of the few important Norman barons still loyal to Curthose. The Duke brought up his forces to break the siege. After unsuccessful negotiations, battle was inevitable.
On the Twenty-eighth day of September the Battle of Tinchebray was fought between Henry and Curthose.
Henry's army was organized into three groups. These were commanded by Ranulf of Bayeux, Robert de Beaumont, and William de Warenne. Also on Henry's side were Alain, Duke of Brittany, William, Count of Évreux, Ralph of Tosny, Robert and Baudoin de Montbryce, their half-brother Caedmon FitzRam, and Robert of Grandmesil. In addition Henry had a reserve force, commanded by Elias of Maine, out of sight on the flank. Hugh’s sons Melton and Izzy, and Antoine’s boys, Adam, Denis and Mathieu, were part of that force.
On Curthose's side were William, Count of Mortain, François de Giroux and Robert of Bellême.
Box Set - Knights of Passion (7 Novels) Page 45
