Sanctuary of Roses mhg-2

by Колин Глисон

  The only thing that kept him from being wholly contented was the knowledge that Fantin de Belgrume was still alive.

  Later that evening, as they lay nestled together in a cocoon of bedding, Madelyne was just drifting off to sleep. Gavin’s hand stroked the length of her back while the other held her atop his chest. He toyed with her hair, and when he spoke, his voice rumbled deep within his chest, just beneath her ear.

  “We shall leave for Mal Verne as soon as Henry gives his permission,” he told her. “’Tis dangerous still for you to remain at court. I have set spies about and there’s been no sign of him, but I know he has not yet given up the desire to take you. You will be safe at Mal Verne, and there you’ll be able to settle into your new life.”

  She nodded against him, well content. Memories of the fortnight she’d spent at his demesne stirred pleasingly within her. “I look forward to working in the gardens, knowing that this time I will be there to see their yield.” Her mouth curved against his skin.

  “I shall see Henry on the morrow about when we may leave. Mayhap we can be on our journey before week’s end.” He wrapped a thick hank of hair gently around his wrist, loosening and then tightening it absently. “I wish also to bring the queen her gift before we leave.”

  “’Twas most kind of you to think of such a thing. She’ll be pleased with the necklet, I am certain. I will be working in her herb garden on the morrow, but surely word will come to me of her delight.”

  “Aye. The queen does love her jewels as much as her husband loves his coin.” Gavin stroked her hair, and she smiled under the comforting weight of his wide hand.

  Madelyne basked in contentment. Her father had made no move against her at court, though she’d felt a bit worried that he might hear of her wedding and object.

  Mayhap he’d returned to Tricourten, and to his experiments, and would leave them alone.

  Twenty-Five

  Three mornings after their wedding night, Madelyne was in the private herb garden tending to the five varieties of thyme plants when Judith came rushing along the overgrown path, calling her name.

  “Maddie! Maddie, oh, dear God, Maddie, Gavin has been arrested!”

  “What?” Madelyne staggered to her feet, tripping over her skirts and clutching at the apple tree for support. She must have misunderstood. “What do you say?”

  Clem, who’d been sitting under the tree, watching over her in his master’s stead, lurched to his feet. “What?”

  Judith could barely catch her breath. Her face was white, and a lock of copper hair straggled into her face. Madelyne felt all emotion drain from her as her friend repeated the impossible words. “Gavin has been arrested.”

  “Why?” was all she could think to say. Her heart was suddenly slamming in her chest, and her head had gone light.

  “He has been accused of attempting to murder the queen!”

  How? Why? Madelyne could only stare at Judith. She could not even voice the absurdity of such a thought. “How…how can this be? Is the queen injured?”

  “He presented a gift to her this morrow,” Judith explained between short breaths as she tugged Madelyne toward the entrance of the garden. “In a wooden box, beautifully carved, and she did open it at once. But her head ached, and she passed it to Lady Therese, who wished to examine the necklet. When Therese pulled it out and placed it around her neck, she was pierced through the skin in three places. She became ill immediately, and, Madelyne, she has died .”

  Madelyne stumbled after Judith, frozen, shocked, disbelieving. She tried to make sense of what her friend told her, but the only thing that resonated in her mind was that her husband had been accused of attempted murder—of the queen.

  “’Tis a mistake. ’Tis absurd.” She muttered, at last standing alone and pulling from Judith. The king couldn’t believe that of Gavin. How could he? He knew her husband. She shook her head as if to dislodge the impossible, the absurd situation.

  “And the king wishes to speak with you. There were needles hidden among the wires of the necklet, and poisoned.” Judith’s eyes were wide, with tears sparkling at the corners. “Gavin is to be imprisoned—and he will be executed if ’tis proven he is the murderer.”

  Madelyne, followed by Clem, hurried after her friend. All the way, she tried to assimilate this news with her knowledge of the man she knew.

  Nausea gathered in her middle. It was a mistake, she told herself. It was not true.

  * * *

  Gavin stood to the side in Henry’s private court room, his arms bound behind his back, and a man-at-arms standing at his side. Madelyne fought the urge to rush to his side. Instead, she focused on the grave face of the king as she positioned herself in front of him.

  “Your majesty,” she curtseyed to him, glanced at her husband, then returned her attention to the man she’d believed was Gavin’s friend as well as his liege.

  “Lady Mal Verne, do you understand what is happening here?” Henry asked. There was no sign of the light humor that had glinted in his blue eyes before, and no evidence that he had ever been anything but a harsh ruler. Indeed, his face bore a haggard but steely set.

  “Aye, your majesty. My husband is suspected of attempting to harm the queen. Forgive me, your majesty, but you know that Gavin respects her majesty and yourself and is devoted to both of you!” Madelyne knew she spoke out of turn, but she could not stand to see the proud figure of her husband restrained thus. “He would have no reason to wish either of you harm!”

  “Lady Mal Verne,” Henry’s voice boomed. “We are quite aware of the circumstances. We would ask that you refrain from offering your opinion until it has been asked. Now we ask you, did your husband prepare a gift to be given to the queen?”

  Madelyne drew herself taller and steadfastly kept her eyes from Gavin. “Aye, he commissioned a special necklet to be made for her in thanks for our wedding. The box in which it was contained was also created especially for her majesty.”

  “Aye. Created especially for her. With a poisoned pin-prick that would have sent her to her death if she had been the one to wear the necklet.” His eyes pierced blue-gray into her gaze.

  “Nay, your majesty. ’Twas a gift of thanks…not of death. Why would my husband deliver himself to the queen such a thing? Would he not know that ’twould point to him immediately? He is not mad .”

  But her father was.

  A cold wave swept her.

  Henry rose. He passed a glance over Madelyne, and she believed she detected regret in his expression. “Gavin, you must be imprisoned until this is resolved. I am sorry to do so, but the evidence against you is great and I cannot allow it to appear that I will not follow my own laws.”

  “Your pardon, your majesty,” Madelyne spoke, stepping toward the king. “Please, your majesty, could it not be that someone who harbored ill against the queen—or my husband—prepared the poison?”

  Henry swung toward her, a glower on his face that faded a bit as he recognized the concern in her eyes. “Of course that is possible. Did you think that possibility had not also occurred to me? Mal Verne…when did you receive the necklet, and was there a time where it may have been tampered with?”

  Gavin glanced at Madelyne, then responded. “My lord…I cannot think of a moment when it could have happened, in truth. I should like to say otherwise, but I cannot. It was delivered from the town to my trusted man. And since that moment, ’twas safely hidden in my chamber until this morrow, when I took it to the queen.”

  The king swiveled to look at Madelyne, who felt her heart swelling in her throat, her stomach pitching with nausea. “’Tis enough for me to hold him, Lady Mal Verne, at least at this time.” There was a trace of sympathy in his eyes before he returned to her husband. “Gavin, I do regret it, but you must be incarcerated until this is resolved.”

  One of the guards came forward at the king’s gesture. Madelyne focused her attention on Gavin, though she stayed at the king’s side. “Gavin,” she said, her voice ringing clearly. “I will do
whatever need be done to find out the truth.”

  He paused, forcing the men-at-arms to wait as he spoke. “Madelyne, have a care for yourself. I trust this will be resolved soon.”

  She watched after them, pushing back the despair that built within her. She turned to Henry and was surprised to see true regret in his eyes. “He is not a murderer,” she told him boldly.

  “We know that,” was the king’s response. “And I well hope that you can prove it, my lady.”

  * * *

  Madelyne was given permission to visit with her husband while he was under house arrest. She reached through the iron bars to hold one of his hands.

  “’Tis not so dirty as I’d feared,” she told him, looking behind him into the dark cell.

  “No rats,” he replied, his eyes never leaving her face. “And a stool to sit upon…plus a small pallet on which to sleep. One cannot say that Henry is neglectful in his hospitality.”

  Despite his light words, she saw the weariness and concern in his eyes. Shadows flickered about them, cast by a torch slung on the wall behind her. “Do they feed you well? I will send Tricky down with some food and an extra covering for your pallet.”

  Gavin grimaced. “Madelyne, I have slept in much worse conditions. For now, I am most concerned about your safety. Please, remember to go nowhere alone. Not for one moment must you be unwatched. Keep Clem or Jube with you. I am sure this will be resolved quickly—Henry can’t believe I’ve done this—and then we will go to Mal Verne, away from this place.”

  She touched his face, which was sticky with sweat and streaked with grime. “And a cloth and water I will send too, so that you can refresh yourself.” She dropped her hand to hold his again. “Gavin, someone must have taken the necklet—before the metalworker delivered it to you, or mayhap after ’twas brought to you.”

  He pulled his hand away to grip the bars between them. “I removed the necklet from its box myself—if it had been tampered with before coming to me, I would have been pricked myself.”

  “Then someone has been in our chamber and has taken it, and made you to look like a murderer.”

  His head drooped. “Your head is much clearer than mine at this time—aye, Maddie. Have you talked to Jube or Rohan?”

  She nodded. “Aye. They all have said that no one could have entered our chamber—as do all of your men: Clem, James, Antoine, and Peter. And they have seen no one about who should not have been there.” She took a deep breath. “Could my father have done this? He hates you so.”

  He pressed his forehead against the bars, looking deep into her eyes. Her heart jolted out of rhythm at the soft, desperate expression there. “’Tis the most likely explanation. Your father is mad enough to do such a thing…all in the name of his work.”

  “My father. They say he has long believed that God speaks to him, tells him what to do—orders him so that he can finish his work.” She lifted her eyes to stare into his, sorrow lining her insides. “Is it not a great irony that a man should use the love of our God, and his belief in Him, to justify evil? Whilst there are people—as Mother Bertilde, and others—who find only good in their love for God?”

  A hand reached between and grasped hers. “Madelyne, you must take extra care now…He knows this accusation won’t long stand, that I will soon be freed. It must be only a distraction, a way to detain me while he finds a way to take you. In his mind, you belong to him, you’re still his possession. And, as with Nicola, he will take what he believes is his. I will not lose you as I did her. I couldn’t bear it, Madelyne.”

  She swallowed, pushing away the fear that hovered beneath her calm exterior. “Aye, Gavin, you can be sure I will take care. And I will speak with every man and woman that I can to find out what they might know about these events.” She thrust a hand between the bars, stroking the side of his face and tracing a finger over his lips. “Know that I love you, and that I will find a way to have the king release you.”

  “Maddie…” his voice was low and strained in the silence. He reached to clutch her fingers, bringing them to his lips for a soft kiss on their tips. “What good have I done to deserve you? I, who have lived in a violent, black world for so long…I do not deserve you. But I thank the Lord that you have been given to me.”

  * * *

  Madelyne took care, as she’d promised Gavin—going nowhere without Clem or Jube at her side. Even when she was with Judith, one of Gavin’s trusted men accompanied her.

  In the mean while, she, Judith, Clem and Jube questioned as many people as they could who may have seen Gavin or Therese on that night.

  Apprehension and worry hung in a heavy mantle over Madelyne. She startled at any large noise or shadowy movement, and tossed and turned in her empty bed at night. She knew that her father could wait around any corner, and the thought brought back nightmares that she hadn’t had since leaving the abbey.

  Gavin exuded frustration and anger when she visited him. He fumed over his helplessness, cursing everyone from the king to Fantin. They’d learned naught from any of the people with which they spoke, and time was moving on. Sooner, rather than later, Henry must bring Gavin to trial among a group of peers and, while not conclusive, the evidence was damaging.

  “’Tis that or I will be imprisoned until I am too old to walk,” he said angrily, snatching his hands back through the bars to pace in his cell. “’Sblood, Henry knows I did not do this! Why does he not release me to allow me the opportunity to bring your father to justice?”

  “But can we be so certain ’tis my father who is behind this?” Madelyne asked. “You’ve seen nary a hair of him since you nearly strangled him out side of the king’s court when he accosted me…could it not be that he has left Whitehall? Mayhap there is another who wishes you ill!”

  “I should have killed him when I had the opportunity!” Gavin snapped, continuing to pace. “I do not know why I allowed you to sway me from my purpose that day. Had I listened to my instincts, we would not be in such a predicament and I would not be imprisoned thus!”

  “Gavin, you could not have killed him in cold blood! You may be a soldier of war, but to kill a man in cold blood—mad or no mad—nay, I would not believe you capable of it.” She reached through the bars, but he did not come back to her.

  “’Tis a problem, then, Madelyne, if you do not believe me capable of such an action—for had it not been for you, I would have ended your father’s life with little thought. If you believe otherwise, than mayhap the man you love is naught but one in your imagination.” He slammed his hands against the brick wall with a dull thud and rested his head against the stones. “Please, go. I am weary of talking.” He turned and walked back into the shadows of the cell where she could not see him.

  Madelyne watched his figure dissolve into a mere silhouette, her insides twisting as her heart sank. Mayhap she did not know the man that he truly was, but she loved him nevertheless.

  Silently, she blew a kiss to him—to wherever he sat and brooded in the darkness—and turned to leave.

  “Clem, I am ready to leave,” she said, stepping back around the corner of the passageway. Clem or Jube—whoever accompanied her—stayed away so that she and Gavin would have some privacy when she came to visit.

  “Clem was called to assist Jube and Thomas with Rule.” Rohan rose from the stool on which he’d been sitting. “I delivered the message and told him that I would make certain you returned safely to your chamber.”

  “Thank you, Rohan.” Madelyne smiled at the young man. “What is wrong with Rule?” She knew how much Gavin valued his destrier, and even though she would not go near the horse, she appreciated its value as well.

  “He’s not been ridden since Lord Mal Verne was imprisoned,” Rohan explained as he strode rapidly through the passageway. “Am I walking too quickly, my lady? This way, my lady. Thomas told me of a shorter route back to the hall.”

  Madelyne lifted her skirts as she hurried after him. He was walking very quickly, but she could keep pace. They rounded a co
rner and suddenly, something dark and soft descended upon her.

  Her shriek was muffled as some heavy cloth enveloped her, stifling her cries and tangling her arms. Madelyne kicked and fought, but it was no use. Strong arms imprisoned her, and the dark wool smothered her nose and mouth. The air under it became hot and close and she felt herself slip into nothingness.

  Twenty-Six

  The hours crawled by for Gavin as he paced in his cell. He’d been incarcerated for six days…and Madelyne had not been to visit him since the morning before, when he’d vented his anxiety and fear in such a venomous manner. Not that he blamed her for not wanting to interact with him when he acted in such an infantile way…but did she not know now much he longed to see her? How much he looked forward to her morning and evening visits?

  He’d been a fool to speak so sharply, so spitefully to her when she’d done naught but treat him with warmth and understanding. Could he do nothing but drive women away?

  He cursed himself and, holding to the bars, he pushed his face as close up against them as he could, trying to peer toward the right side, from which Madelyne would come. He missed the clean cloths and bowls of water she sent him every morn and night, and the bits of bread, meat, and cheese she wrapped up from her meals. Though he wasn’t being starved, the fare served him was little better than peasant bread and watered-down ale.

  Suddenly, he heard a commotion from that direction, and he pushed harder against the bars. Mayhap she’d come…

  But it was Clem and Jube who burst around the corner, with the guard rushing after them. “Wait! Halt!”

  “My lord, she is gone! She is taken! ” Jube burst out as he and his mate came up against the gate. “My lady is gone!”

  Gavin’s world stopped. Everything went black.

  “What do you mean she is gone?” he repeated, slowly, carefully…knowing that if he’d heard what he believed he’d heard he would surely go mad. Still, he kept his voice calm, low, slow. “How can she be gone when she is to go nowhere but with one of you?”