Birthright

by Markland, Anna

Dizzying desire spiraled through her.

  He winked, the gleam in his eye sparkling in the gathering darkness, and pinched one of her pebbled nipples—hard. She feared she might swoon if he did not bed her quickly. “Come to our pavilion,” she urged, taking his arm.

  He held fast. “Alas, lowly Breton that I am, I was not assigned my own pavilion. However, your family may return and happen upon us.”

  She snorted. “They will not leave the tables until there is no food left to scoff, but we can probably find others willing to share our fun.”

  A movement at the royal pavilion caught his attention. “A moment, my dear. I am curious to watch this entourage of dwarfs.”

  Letyce pressed her breast to his bicep. He was not muscled, but lean and sinewy. Pliable. The memory sent shudders of anticipation through her. “Huh! It’s Adam de Montbryce and his muette.”

  “A Montbryce? You know them?”

  “Vaguely. They are not important. He’s impotent.”

  * * *

  Malraux chuckled. No wonder the black-haired giant was not important to Letyce if she judged him incapable of servicing her in bed. This was proving to be interesting. A member of the Montbryce family impotent. He squirreled the knowledge away. “The woman is mute? Who is she?”

  Letyce clucked impatiently, reinforcing his belief she had made a play for the handsome knight and been rebuffed. “Apparently his betrothed. Wait until the poor girl gets him in bed.”

  Malraux tucked the knuckle of his forefinger under her chin. The chit was practically salivating for him. “Indeed, a man who fails to respond to your tempting wares must be a veritable eunuch.”

  She looked at him curiously. Had she gleaned the insult? He doubted it. “And what of the dwarfs?”

  Letyce shrugged, pulling him away from watching the giant and the dwarf engage in some sort of heated discussion. All was not well. He would be patient and discern later what was afoot. Tossing a dwarf off Le Manio was suddenly within the realm of possibility.

  Limited Facilities

  In the pavilion he shared with Adam, Denis kicked away the footstool. “Another fortnight of these so-called festivities. I will go mad.”

  His brother took a swig of watered ale. “Me too. I am impatient to be off to Normandie. Who knows how long it will take to get Curthose’s permission to marry? He may refuse to give it, in view of our family’s lack of support for him.”

  Denis fumed. “While I appreciate this fine marquee we’ve been allotted, it is too cramped even for me to pace in. We cannot go out and about. The bonfires terrify Paulina. I need to get her away from here. She refuses to leave their pavilion, convinced some evil will befall Topaz. The only time she agrees to go out is when we help ourselves to Henry’s excellent fare on the trestle tables.”

  Adam finished off his ale, put the tankard down, and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “She may be right. Some of these people are whipping themselves into a frenzy, overeating and imbibing too much ale and wine. They’ll be out of control by the time All Hallows’ Eve dawns. Why Henry wanted to spend a whole month here is beyond me. A sennight has been enough.”

  Denis also leaned forward, untying the thong that bound his hair, letting it cascade down over his face. He scratched his scalp vigorously, then tossed his head back. “I long for a good bath. Bathing in the Arun is all well and good, but my body tends to draw unwelcome eyes.”

  Adam wrinkled his nose. “Imagine how the ladies feel. There is no privacy. Most of the women douse themselves with sickly perfumes. Turns my belly.”

  Denis smiled. “Not like my sweet smelling Paulina, who complains she will soon run out of the rosewater she brought.”

  Adam arched his brows. “She’ll have to borrow some of Rosa’s rosemary. Fortunately, it grows wild here, so she’s been able to keep a good supply. I love the scent of it on her.”

  Denis came to his feet. “We’re a pair of lovesick fools. I’m amazed you can stand the smell of rosemary. I almost choked on it when you were sick in the infirmary.”

  Adam slapped his forehead. “I remember. Shows what love can do to a man. I crave the aroma now.”

  Denis frowned, retying his thong. “Do you love Rosa? Forgive me, but I worry sometimes that I want Paulina only because she is my height, and you want Rosamunda because she is mute.”

  Adam hesitated. “I have pondered the same thing, worried they feel drawn to us because you are a dwarf and I am deaf. But I trust her. She has accepted more than my deafness.”

  Denis threw his head back, scratching the hollow of his throat. “I have evaded the lice, but there are many here not as fortunate. I’m constantly itchy. Another reason to stay cooped up.”

  Adam scratched his neck. “You’re in love with Paulina, but not because she’s tiny.”

  Denis shrugged. “You’re right. We need to get out of here. Lucky for Vincent and Lucien the king allowed them to go back to Kingston Gorse.”

  Adam agreed. “Just as well. Even with the laborers Father sent from Belisle, they’ll be hard pressed to get the house repaired and thatched before winter sets in.”

  Denis scratched an armpit. “I cannot stand this any longer. I’m off to the river.”

  Adam retrieved two linen drying cloths, tossing one at Denis. “I’ll join you.”

  * * *

  Paulina patted rosewater on her neck, sniffing her underarms. “Come away, Rosa. They will see you spying. Being cooped up in this pavilion is worse than the attic at home. At least there we could bathe. They are fortunate they can go to the river. Men do not suffer from our need for privacy.”

  Topaz lay asleep in her lap, purring contentedly. She stroked the tip of a twitching ear, but the kitten did not waken.

  Fear for her pet lay like a lead weight in her belly. “I wish I could sleep peacefully, like my cat, unaware of the dangers. Denis has dismissed the tales of horror of All Hallows’ Eve, but I have seen the malicious glint in the eyes of some queuing at the tables when they espy her in my satchel. I wish I had heeded Adam’s advice and left her at East Preston.”

  They sat in silence, listening to the purring. Paulina fidgeted, nervous her movements would dislodge the cat, robbing her of the warmth of its little body on her thighs. “How long does Vincent say the repairs will take?”

  Rosamunda shook her head.

  Paulina inhaled deeply. “Sometimes I think it would be simpler to go back there, forget any of this happened.”

  Rosamunda fell to her knees at her sister’s feet, alarming the cat, who scurried off to jump on Paulina’s pallet, where she commenced licking the back of her neck, glaring. “No. You love Denis. Man for you.” She pressed her palms to her breast. “Love Adam with all my heart.”

  Paulina took her sister’s hands. “If what you say is true, why do I sense a melancholy in you? His deafness does not matter, but is there something else?”

  Rosamunda shook her head vehemently, then lay it in her sister’s lap. But Paulina had seen the pain in her eyes.

  * * *

  Malraux blinked as daylight assaulted his eyes. The sun was well up. He had got a late start on the day, but it did not worry him. There was no reason to get up, especially after another long night of wild love play. He looked around, wondering whose tent he was in, and then remembered. It was of no importance.

  He shoved away the warm body snoring next to him, wincing at the deep scratches on the man’s inner thighs. He looked quickly to his own body, breathing a sigh of relief that Letyce, the hell cat, had not left the same marks on him. He preferred not to draw curious eyes when he bathed in the river.

  Letyce was gone. It amused him that she scooted back to her family pavilion before dawn. Surely, her father and brothers must be aware of what she got up to. Still, better safe than sorry. He did not want them suspicious of their plans to leave for Carnac.

  Thrilled by Letyce’s willingness to accompany him, he had delayed his departure in the hopes of formulating a plan to abscond with the dwarfs. Sh
e had been more than enthusiastic.

  Now he had the means to drive a wedge between the Normans and their women. Hints concerning Montbryce’s impotency had been dropped in the ears of the three dissolute men with whom he had shared Letyce. He was confident the rumor would spread quickly.

  Whistling, he set off for the river, drying linens thrown jauntily over his shoulder.

  Betrayals

  Denis had learned to ignore rude stares, taunts, elbowing, and the tittered laughter that ensued whenever he took off his clothes in public. Did grown men have nothing better to do? He concentrated on scrubbing his skin, glancing up occasionally to make sure none of the imbeciles bathing in the river had taken it into his head to come any closer.

  Adam had gone off to swim in the deeper water. This had become his habit, Denis suspected, to ensure his shaft was not uncovered for long periods of time. To Denis his brother looked normal, but Adam preferred not to strut around naked.

  His blood ran cold when he glanced up again to discover the gawkers were not directing their gaze at him, but at his brother emerging from the deeper part of the river, water streaming off his well-muscled body.

  Nobody looking at Adam would know there was anything amiss. Few men emerged from cold water with a stiff shaft. But the onlookers somehow knew. Denis’ gut roiled as he watched their lewd gestures. They thrust their hips forward, pointing to the shafts they had aroused by their own hand.

  They flapped their elbows like chickens, crowing like cocks.

  They know.

  Adam had not looked up, had not heard the guffaws. Denis wanted to rush to his side, warn him, but he remained frozen as Adam strode on, shaking water from his hair.

  He halted a few feet away and raised his head. He frowned. “What’s amiss?”

  How Denis wished he could spare his brother the cataclysm about to descend upon him. Illness had stolen a great deal, but he had kept the one thing that strengthens men to face of the worst of torments—his masculine pride.

  Denis shook his head slightly and then cocked it to one side. “Behind me,” he mouthed.

  Adam looked beyond him.

  Do not cover yourself.

  The blood drained from Adam’s face. He scowled, jaw clenched, hands fisted at his sides.

  Denis breathed a sigh of relief when his brother walked on, passing him with only a nod.

  Adam stooped to retrieve his drying cloth on the bank.

  Denis followed suit, deliberately presenting his bare arse to the revelers as he bent over to dry his feet. Better they poke fun at him than his brother.

  Adam watched, tucking the cloth around his waist, his gaze fixed on the men who were now imitating a woman pleading to be plundered by a big cock.

  “Ignore them,” Denis urged. “They do not know.”

  Adam grimaced. “They know. So much for trust.”

  * * *

  Adam willed himself to slow his pace, to not give any hint of his desolation and anger. He had somehow managed to pull his leggings on over his damp legs, and shrugged on his shirt, despite the trembling in his hands.

  Denis struggled to keep up.

  Adam turned on his heel and poked him in the chest. “Did you tell them?”

  The pained expression on Denis’ face wrenched his gut. He knew better than to accuse his loyal brother of such a thing. But who else held the secret? Though he tried mightily to dispel the notion, it was Rosamunda who had betrayed him. “Perhaps she told her sister.”

  Denis scowled, panting for breath. “I doubt it, but if she did, Paulina would not divulge such a thing. Whom would she tell? My betrothed speaks to no one. It’s as if she is the mute.”

  Adam’s mind whirled. Rosamunda would not have betrayed him knowingly, but she was outgoing, anxious to fit in, and may have revealed his malady inadvertently. He slumped onto a fallen log, his head in his hands. “How can I face her now?”

  Denis put a hand on his arm. “Hold. Someone calls us.”

  A breathless squire approached. “My lords, I have searched everywhere for you.”

  Denis braced his legs, coming between the squire and his brother. “You have found us. What news?”

  The man steadied his breathing, a hand over his heart. “The king.”

  Denis glared. “Well?”

  “His Majesty wishes to see you both—now.”

  * * *

  “You’ve been bathing in the river,” Henry observed.

  Denis touched his wet hair, doubting a more bedraggled pair had ever stood before a monarch. Adam appeared to be in a stupor beside him, and may not have heard. “We have, Majesté. Apologies for our appearance.”

  The king chuckled, tugging at the edge of his blue cloak. “If only I could divest myself of these trappings and wade into the Arun. Hasten the day we have bathing facilities finished here at Arundel.”

  Denis realized for the first time there was no one else in the pavilion.

  Henry rose from his massive chair.

  Adam and Denis bent the knee.

  “Rise. No ceremony on this occasion. I have need of your services.”

  They remained silent while the king paced. Denis worried about his brother, seemingly lost in his torment. Perhaps a loud voice might bring him back to his senses. “We live to serve you, Majesté.”

  Henry ceased pacing, clearly surprised by the exclamation, but Adam’s eyes widened, as if waking from a deep sleep.

  His Majesty declared, “Someone I trust must deliver a message to Westminster.”

  Denis’ heart lifted. At last, a way out of Arundel. A leisurely ride with Rosamunda and Paulina to Westminster. Get Adam away from taunts and insinuations. Just what they needed to get reacquainted, solve the dilemma of Rosamunda’s apparent slip of the tongue.

  He coughed into his fist, stifling an urge to snort with laughter. A mute with a slip of the tongue!

  The king’s voice pulled him back to reality. “Secret...plot...Curthose...alone.”

  Dread rose in Denis’ throat, but he had to speak. “Your pardon, Majesté, but the women we are betrothed to must accompany us. They are not used to—”

  Henry glared at him. “You ride alone, and in haste. They will be perfectly safe here. I will appoint a champion.”

  There was no arguing with a king. He bowed and approached as Henry leaned close to his ear. “The message is not to be committed to parchment.”

  What was whispered into his ear froze his blood; details of a plot to assassinate the king, naming familiar names, all Curthose loyalists.

  “Repeat the message back to me, softly.”

  If he obeyed, Adam would not hear. Was he alone to be the bearer of these dire tidings? He whispered the message into the king’s ear.

  Henry smiled, apparently satisfied. “On the road to Westminster, you may share the details with your brother. You are to leave immediately and speak to no one else until you reach my future queen. It is to her you must deliver the news.” He pulled a ring from his little finger. “Give her this. She has the authority to issue warrants. Go now. Your horses have been saddled.”

  Argument

  They rode as fast as the rolling terrain permitted across the South Downs, resting Nox and Brevis momentarily at Pulborough. Denis wondered idly what the consequences were for disobeying a king, not once, but twice.

  Firstly, he had not waited until they were on the road to impart the message to Adam. In the privacy of their pavilion, he had explained the details as they dressed for the journey.

  Once aware of the plot, Adam had insisted on leaving immediately, but Denis had sought out Paulina—his second transgression.

  The fear and dread, and—dare he hope—longing, were evident in her eyes at the news. She had sobbed, clutching a squirming Topaz, as he reassured her they would be gone three days at the most. That only served to increase her upset, and she had hurried away.

  “I told Paulina we had to leave.”

  Adam frowned. “Rosamunda knows?”

  Denis feare
d Adam’s progress had been destroyed, and he fretted that an end to his brother’s relationship with Rosamunda would doom his own chances. “Paulina will have told her by now. She will be bereft you did not bid her adieu.”

  Adam clenched his jaw. “She has betrayed me.”

  Denis drew Brevis away from the river. “That does not make sense. Who could she have told? I cannot conceive of her having such a conversation with anyone. She did not tell Paulina.”

  Adam snarled. “But you did?”

  Denis bristled. “I had to explain your abrupt departure. I did not break faith with you. I merely mentioned you were upset because you believed Rosamunda had given away a private secret. Her look of surprise told me she had no idea what I was referring to. They are not women of guile.”

  Adam said nothing as he remounted Nox and they galloped away, bound for Westminster.

  * * *

  The only sound in Adam’s ears as they sped north across the flat fields and forests of southern England was the pounding of Nox’s hooves. How foolish he had been to trust a woman with his secret. Women were gossipy creatures, as evidenced by his sister, Florymonde. He had believed Rosamunda loved him, despite his deafness and impotency. His heart ached that he had been wrong.

  He was honored he had been chosen to relay the message. It pained him that his beloved Normandie had become a hotbed of intrigue. Perhaps, he would never get to take Rosamunda there.

  He needed her, loved her. The admission struck him like a physical blow. He hoped Denis was right that it was not she who had betrayed him. But who else knew?

  * * *

  Paulina wailed. “They’re gone.”

  Alarmed, Rosamunda lay aside the clump of rosemary she had picked and hunkered down beside her sister. She extricated the struggling kitten from Paulina’s grip. “Who?”