Mary Gillgannon

by The Leopard

  * * *

  “It was grand hunt, wasn’t it?” Will said as he and Richard dismounted and turned their horses over to their squires.

  “Oh, aye,” his friend answered coldly. “I so enjoy riding in the forest with the King and an intimate group of fifty or so, chasing after a small, terrified animal.”

  “You’re in a foul mood today, Richard. What’s happened to turn you into a snarling beast? Do your old wounds pain you?”

  “I told you, I’m completely healed. No, it’s this stupidity that irritates me.” He gestured toward the mass of nobles crowding the courtyard. “All these people pandering to Henry, slavering over any little nod or smile he deigns to throw their way. I’m a soldier, Will. I’m not cut out to be a simpering, groveling courtier.”

  “God’s wounds, Richard! Lower your voice. You want a manor, don’t you? I tell you, this is the way to earn Henry’s trust. Hunt with him, break bread with him, pray with him.”

  “And piss with him too, no doubt,” Richard sneered. “Damnation, Will, I have more pride than these fools. I’ve won wars for Henry. That ought to count for something. I shouldn’t have to kiss the royal arse as well.”

  “I’m afraid Henry is one of those men who can’t be reassured enough. He scents treason everywhere, and his memory is as short as a two-year-old’s. He forgets who did him a favor last year, last month, probably even last week.”

  “I don’t care what Henry’s problems are. I’ve had a gutful of scraping and bowing. There has to be another way for me to win land. I have half a mind to pay a visit to the French king...”

  “Oh, certainly, Richard., go to Louis,” Will answered caustically. “He’ll know you come to him as a faithless traitor, but he’ll trust you anyway. Use your head, man. It’s pure foolishness to throw away everything you’ve fought for because the rewards are a little long in coming. If you can’t abide court, offer to go off to Wales to guard the Marches. Henry certainly needs help on that battlefront. If you keep him from losing more ground there, he might finally recognize your value to him.”

  “Perhaps there’s another way to win what I want,” Richard said thoughtfully. “If I could find an heiress willing to marry me, I might be able to make my fortune that way.”

  “Where are you going to find a rich woman willing to wed a landless knight? I grant that you’re a superb fighter, and you certainly know how to charm women, but marriage is another matter.”

  “I could be useful to a wealthy widow,” Richard said defensively. “I could protect her property, warm her bed.”

  “Would you really be happy living like that? Does being rich mean so much to you?”

  “It’s done all the time. Besides, it’s really not about wealth, but power. If you’d been cursed and spit upon as much as I have, you’d understand.”

  “That was years ago. Now, men respect you, for your battle skills if nothing else.”

  “It’s not the same,” Richard answered, his face suddenly hard and dangerous-looking. “They may fear my skill with a sword, but they know I’m really only a poor, untitled fighting man. I want to have real power someday, to be a force men must reckon with. Someday I want even old Henry to court my favor.”

  “You don’t ask for much, do you, Richard?” Will shook his head as the two of them walked to the knights’ quarters.

  Seven

  “You look perfect!”

  “You really think so?” Astra peered into the polished silver minor Marguerite held up for her. “You don’t think the gown is too elaborate?”

  “You are meeting the King and Queen of England for the first time. I hardly think you could dress too elaborately.”

  “But I feel so strange,” Astra pulled at the bodice of her bliaut. “I’ve never worn anything so snug.”

  “Stop tugging at it! Your chemise fills in the neckline quite modestly. You needn’t fear you will fall out of it.”

  That was exactly what she did fear, Astra thought nervously. The gown was laced up the front so tightly it made her breasts spill out over the top. Even though the linen of her undertunic hid them from view, she felt only half-dressed. Looking down, she wished she had a larger mirror so she might better admire the effect of her long, bell-like sleeves and full trailing skirt. She smoothed her hand over the lustrous rose velvet. It was as soft as the petals of a flower.

  She turned to the mirror and scrutinized her face beneath the white wimple and delicate gold circlet. Her eyes sparkled deep blue next to the white, and her cheeks were flushed pink with excitement. Even to herself she looked pretty.

  “If you are done admiring yourself, we’d better go. My father is waiting for us.”

  “Don’t you want a turn at the mirror?”

  “There isn’t time. Anyway, I’m quite satisfied with my own attire. This gown was made for my aunt, who resides at Louis’s court. Even the Queen will have nothing so fine.”

  Astra smiled as she admired the diapered gold and black pattern of Marguerite’s voluminous surcote. With her pearl-encrusted gold headdress, Marguerite looked like elegance personified.

  “I wish Papa hadn’t insisted on making the trip,” Marguerite grumbled as they left their bedchamber: “He’s bound to embarrass me. The way he carries on about his battle escapades!” Marguerite rolled her eyes.

  “I suspect he doesn’t trust us to travel by ourselves after Tudbury.”

  Marguerite nodded, and the two women went out into the hallway and waited to join the other courtiers in the Painted Chamber, where the King and Queen were greeting their guests before the meal. Lord Fitz Hugh appeared, and his blustery bulk reassured Astra. But when it was finally her turn to curtsy before the royal pair, she was too overwhelmed to do more than nod at King Henry and Queen Eleanor.

  The Queen was quite lovely—with beautiful dark eyes and exceptionally clear, creamy skin—but there was a hard set to her jaw that suggested she possessed a force of will quite in contrast to her delicate features. The King was moderately tall and rather stoutly built, with reddish brown hair and a long face and regular features. His most distinguishing characteristic was a drooping right eyelid that made him look sleepy.

  “What a charming, sweet, young woman,” Queen Eleanor pronounced as Astra stood before them.

  “She is, indeed,” Lord Fitz Hugh agreed. “Lady Astra was raised in a convent, and at one time intended to take vows.”

  “Is that true, child?” the King asked. “Did you seriously consider becoming a nun?”

  Astra nodded.

  “What caused you to give up such an admirable ambition?”

  Astra did not know what to say. She had heard King Henry was extremely devout. Would he be displeased to learn she had been unable to commit herself to a life of devotion and self-sacrifice?

  “I think a young woman of Lady Astra’s beauty and charm might better serve her God and king by marrying and raising a family,” Lord Fitz Hugh answered when Astra didn’t respond. “Don’t you think so, Your Grace?”

  The King smiled. “Certainly being a wife and mother is a worthy ambition for any young woman. And now that Lady Astra has come to court, we will make it our business to see that she marries well. Won’t we, dear?” The King squeezed the Queen’s arm affectionately.

  The Queen nodded and returned his smile. Astra received the impression that the King and Queen were genuinely devoted to each other.

  Thankfully, Astra’s time before the royal couple was over quickly. She and Marguerite moved out of the hall and joined the procession to the Great Hall where they would dine.

  The King seemed quite interested in you,” Marguerite whispered as they broke away from the crowd. “That won’t hurt your prospects. Most knights are anxious to please Henry in hopes he might gift them with a manor or other property. That you stand in the King’s favor makes you even more desirable as a wife.”

  “But I did nothing to impress the King,” Astra protested. “I was raised in a convent more due to my family’s poverty than my own
piety. I truly don’t understand why the King would single me out for his special attention.”

  “The King is easily impressed by expressions of devotion. Then, too, he is a man...” Marguerite winked broadly. “I’m sure he was also taken with your feminine charms.”

  “That is pure silliness, Marguerite. I’ve heard you babble on for weeks now about how I will steal the heart of every man at court. Looking around, I see many refined and beautiful women. I can’t imagine anyone taking notice of me.”

  Marguerite again winked and then laughed.

  They seated themselves at one of the long trestle tables, and servants immediately brought them food. The exotic dishes compared favorably to the delicious fare Astra had enjoyed at Ravensmore. She queried Marguerite often on the dishes she was sampling. Was this

  heavily-spiced meat, venison or beef? And this delicate fowl, chicken or goose? Heron, peacock, wild boar—there were so many flavors she had never tasted before. Then came the custard and sweetmeats. It did not take Astra long to realize she must stop eating or she would make herself ill. She put aside her eating knife and turned slightly in her seat, the better to watch the spectacle of the King’s banquet hall.

  Her eyes took in the rich gowns of the women: flowing ripples of rose and blue, burgundy, violet, shimmering gold and deep green. A dozen different styles and colors adorned the room like wildflowers in a field. The men were decked in hues almost as dramatic. The few who favored simple blacks and grays often set them off with jewels and dazzling trims of silver and gold.

  Not everyone seemed comfortable in their splendid attire. No one was allowed to carry weapons in the King’s Hall, but Astra reasoned that she could easily pick out the fighting men. The younger knights in particular shifted restlessly in their seats, reminding Astra of village children—cleaned and dressed up for church, pulling at their stiff tunics and squirming in their confining shoes as if they longed to be dirty and barefoot once again. Her eyes lingered on the knights as she recalled the two men who had rescued them at Tudbury. A familiar face caught her attention and sent a ripple of excitement coursing down her spine.

  “Marguerite, there’s Lord de Lacy! He’s sitting at the table next to us.”

  “Where? Oh, I see him. I wonder if that big, dark-haired man next to him is Sir Richard.”

  Astra watched the man who sat beside de Lacy. He was conversing with the man on his left, and Astra could make out only the knight’s extremely broad shoulders and the back of his head. She waited expectantly and wondered if she would see the face of the Black Leopard at last.

  De Lacy caught them watching him and smiled their way. He turned and said something to his companion. The dark-haired knight’s head jerked around. Astra stared at him a moment, eye-to-eye, not ten paces between them.

  “Do you think it’s him? Sir Richard, I mean,” Marguerite whispered.

  “Mother of God,” Astra answered in a strangled voice. “It’s him. The man in the forest!”

  “It is Sir Richard, then. How wonderful! I have always regretted we did not have a chance to thank them for their bravery before we were dragged off by de Chilham. Now we will be able to converse with them at length.”

  “No!” Astra cried. She grabbed Marguerite’s arm in a panic. “You don’t understand. It’s not Sir Richard, or perhaps it is. Either way, I have no intention of going near that man. Ever!”

  “What? What’s wrong with you, Astra? Your face is flushed. Are you ill?”

  “I said he was the man in the forest. I meant the summer before this... the day when we were swimming at the pond. Remember? I felt someone watching us, and I went into the woods and he was there!”

  Marguerite lost two shades of color. “Mon Dieu! Are you sure? Could it not be a man of similar size and coloring?”

  “He had a scar on his cheek,” Astra muttered through clenched teeth. “Exactly as that man does—Sir Richard or whoever he is. I would know that scar and those mocking eyes anywhere.”

  Marguerite sagged back against her seat. “I cannot imagine a well-born knight would do such a thing. Spying on women in a convent—why, we might have been nuns. And we were completely naked. He must have seen everything!”

  Astra nodded, feeling sick to her stomach. The man had seen everything. She had been too stupid to dress before she confronted the spy. She had thought it was an animal or, at worst, one of the nuns come to reprimand them. She had never dreamed it was a man—a huge young knight with hot, dark eyes and a wide, hungry smile. She had stared at him long enough to memorize the evil slash that marred his smooth cheek. Then she had run away like a simpering coward. The thought of how her naked backside must have looked to him made her sick all over again.

  “We must leave,” Astra whispered to her companion. “They might come and speak to us, and I could not bear it.”

  “Don’t be silly! It would be very bad manners to leave the hall. You have nothing to be ashamed of. You did not spy upon him. It is Sir Richard’s duty to beg your pardon.”

  “No!” Astra cried again, utterly aghast. “I could not possibly face him.”

  “Ladies, it is unseemly to keep whispering so,” Lord Fitz Hugh admonished. He leaned toward them. “If something is wrong, tell me now, and I will deal with it.”

  “Nothing is wrong. Astra was merely noting that our rescuers from Tudbury are here. Sir Will and Sir Richard are seated at the table next to us.” She motioned discreetly to the two men.

  “What a stroke of good fortune,” Lord Fitz Hugh exclaimed. “I will go and speak to them immediately. I have not yet had a chance to express my gratitude to the gentlemen personally.”

  Astra watched in horror as Lord Fitz Hugh rose and strode purposefully to where de Lacy and Reivers sat. The two knights stood and greeted the baron politely. Astra was too far away to hear Lord Fitz Hugh’s words, but she could guess what he was saying. She sighed miserably, wishing she could disappear into the floor.

  “Don’t be upset, ma petite,” Marguerite murmured. “If you want, I will tell my father the whole story. He will know then that Sir Richard isn’t quite as gallant as he appears.”

  “You wouldn’t! You promised me you wouldn’t tell anyone!”

  Marguerite shrugged. “As you wish, sweeting. It’s your choice. If you keep silent, Sir Richard will be treated as a hero by my father and the rest of the court.”

  It was true, Astra thought glumly. If she kept silent, the man would never be punished for spying. On the other hand, she could not bear the thought of anyone else knowing how he had seen her. It seemed better to say nothing, to pretend the incident in the forest had never occurred. She sighed. “I cannot disparage Sir Richard’s reputation without damaging my own. I can only hope his guilty conscience punishes him as fiercely as he deserves.”

  “I suspect your hopes are in vain,” Marguerite said with a slight smile. “Sir Richard is headed this way, and it does not look like his conscience troubles him in the least. Why, the bastard looks absolutely smug!”

  Astra’s whole body went rigid, and she stared fixedly at her hands and prayed for strength. Amid the low murmur of conversation around her, she heard the tread of boots approaching and strong masculine voices near. She did not look up until she heard Lord Fitz Hugh clear his throat and the rustle of Marguerite’s skirts as she stood to greet the two men.

  Astra forced herself to rise slowly. Even more slowly, she raised her eyes and steeled herself to face the dark intent gaze she remembered so well.

  Sir Richard stood directly in front of her. As Marguerite had said, he was smiling. Astra avoided the smile and the dangerous, mocking eyes. Instead, she focused her gaze on the crooked scar on Reivers’s cheek.

  “Lady Marguerite, Lady Astra—what a pleasure it is to see you again.” De Lacy gave a small bow. Astra was aware of a slight movement in front of her as Reivers mimicked the gracious gesture.

  “Of course we are delighted to see you as well,” Marguerite answered. “And under much more pleasant circu
mstances. We must apologize for taking leave of your company so abruptly in Tudbury. You risked your lives for our safety, and we never had a chance to thank you properly.” She dipped into a graceful curtsy.

  “No thanks are necessary.” De Lacy turned to his companion. “We believe the chance to do a good deed is reward enough in itself, don’t we, Richard?”

  “Of course. Not to mention the opportunity to be in your presence and enjoy your beauty once again. That is a reward beyond measure,” de Lacy’s companion added silkily.

  The irony in Reivers’s deep voice was so pronounced, Astra looked up at him sharply. His eyes gleamed with laughter, while his mouth curled into a smooth smile. She gritted her teeth, amazed at his audacity. Could no one else see he was mocking them? She glanced at Lord Fitz Hugh. He was nodding and smiling benevolently. Astra suppressed a groan and wondered how long she would be forced to endure this humiliating charade.

  “Gentlemen, as I told you, I cannot stay long in London,” Lord Fitz Hugh said. “It would ease my mind greatly if you would consent to look after my daughter and Lady Astra during their stay at court. Lady Marguerite does not always have the best judgment. It would be a relief to know someone was looking out for her.”

  “Oh, Papa, I’m sure these men have better things to do with their time,” Marguerite protested with a seductive smile. “We will be quite safe. The Queen will see to it that we are properly chaperoned at all times.”

  “Nonsense. There must be a dozen women attending the Queen, and she cannot possibly keep track of all of them. These men have proven their chivalry and honor beyond doubt. It would be a great burden off my shoulders to know they were personally looking to your safety and well-being. Sir de Lacy, Reivers—would you be willing to grant me this additional kindness?”

  De Lacy appeared surprised. He did not answer immediately but looked to his friend, as if waiting for his response. Sir Richard smiled broadly. “Of course, Lord Fitz Hugh,” he answered with a low bow. “We are honored by your trust, and we will do our best to merit your faith in us.”