The longer he looked at me, the more I felt it necessary to say something. “Thank you for allowing me the use of my mother’s garments and jewels, Father. If you have no objections, I will wear these garments to the audience with Count Otto.”
“Aye, Mordecai informed me that you did not want to wear Rheinbaden’s colors,” he said, “and you were unlikely to have appropriate garments made up in your husband’s colors so soon after your marriage.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Faulke’s head swivel toward me.
“ ’Tis just as well,” Edward continued. “The Castile devices and the Plantagenet Lions make a more obvious statement than the Segrave dragon. You will have ample opportunity to wear your husband’s device, once Count Otto returns to Rheinbaden. In the meantime, your mother would be pleased to see her garments put to good service.”
My fingertips again traced over the castle I had claimed as my own on her belt. It was somehow reassuring.
“The Rheinbaden envoys will be shown to the small receiving chamber when they arrive,” Mordecai said. “The knights you requested await your pleasure, sire.”
“Excellent,” Edward said as he drew his knife and sliced his egg into quarters. He waved the tip of the blade toward the doorway. “Escort my daughter and her people to their horses.”
“Aye, my lord.”
It was a dismissal. Faulke bowed and I curtseyed, and then Faulke offered his arm to escort me from the chamber. I just stared at his arm without moving.
“For this purpose we are united,” he said under his breath as he placed my hand on his arm. The warmth of him gave me goose flesh, but I knew our nearness had no effect on him. His arm was as stiff as a board, and he walked as far from me as possible.
My heart leaped in my chest when Faulke leaned down to whisper in my ear.
“Do not think I have forgiven you.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Secrets and Lies
Much to my surprise, Faulke accompanied me back to Ashland. The sun was beginning to set. I wondered if he would brave the dark streets of London to go to his townhouse tonight, or if he intended to stay at Ashland. We didn’t have a chance to speak privately after we left my father’s quarters, so I had no idea what thoughts were running through his head. My imagination provided plenty of possibilities.
“We will eat in the great hall tonight,” Faulke told Reginald, who greeted us at Ashland’s stables. He watched two of my Rheinbaden soldiers help me off my horse. Haul me down, more like. His expression flattened when one of the soldiers kept hold of my waist too long and I had to brush his hands away. He turned to Gretchen and Hilda. “See to your lady. Get her out of those ridiculous garments and into something more suitable for the evening meal.”
I bristled at hearing my court garments called ridiculous.
“He is still angry,” Hilda whispered as she straightened my train. “Do not take to heart anything a man says in anger. You look wonderful in your mother’s jewels.”
“Thank you, Hilda,” I said. I turned to say something biting to Faulke about his taste in fashion, but he was already striding toward the great hall with Richard close on his heels. Richard, I noticed, turned for one yearning glance at Gretchen, but Faulke didn’t turn to look at me.
“You should allow Hilda to pick your garments tonight,” Gretchen said in a speculative voice. She took a firm hold of my elbow. “Come, Princess, we have just enough time to get you changed before dinner.”
* * *
—
TWO HOURS LATER, I felt like one of the pastries that were put on display each morning in the baker’s shop. The gown Hilda had chosen for me was my most revealing, made of a soft charcoal-gray cashmere that clung to me like a second skin. The neckline of the gown, what there was of it, was cut below my breasts. It was a common style in the Alps, almost prim when worn over a proper chemise. The chemise I wore tonight displayed the tops of my breasts and was so sheer it was practically transparent.
The sleeves were the only conservative part of the gown, although that very feature made the gown more risqué. They were as tightly fitted as the gown. Even the skirt clung to my hips, leaving little to the imagination as to what was beneath the gown.
I had waited in vain for the surcoat. Gretchen and Hilda both assured me that a surcoat was unnecessary and the gown was perfectly appropriate when paired with a floor-length silver veil, held in place by a headband of seed pearls.
I knew they lied the moment I walked into the great hall and everyone fell silent. It wasn’t that they had been gossiping about my newly married state, or the roaring sounds Faulke had made in my bedchamber for three days and nights, or even the fight between Faulke and me that the whole palace probably knew about by this point. No, everyone stopped talking and stared at me because they had never before seen quite so much of me. The silver veil that Gretchen and Hilda had cooed over only served as a frame for my nakedness.
I almost turned around and marched right back to my solar. All that stopped me was the look on Faulke’s face. The mixture of stunned disbelief and male pleasure was quite satisfying. I walked over to my place next to him at the head table as if I always arrived naked to the great hall.
By the time he had me seated, a dark frown had replaced the heat in his eyes, and he was no longer looking at my gown. He was busy scowling at other men in the room who were looking at me.
“Do you intend to remain in residence at Ashland?” I asked when I could no longer contain my curiosity.
That got his attention. He finally looked at me again, his gaze traveling from head to foot, and then back up. “Who dressed you?”
“Gretchen and Hilda,” I answered. My mouth flattened. “You said to dress in something more suitable for the evening meal. We assumed that meant fewer jewels.”
“Aye, but I did not mean fewer clothes.” His gaze seemed fixated on my breasts. I wondered if some of his marks showed through the sheer fabric of my chemise. I knew the marks on my neck were clearly visible. He muttered under his breath, “Your ladies are punishing me.”
“You haven’t answered my question,” I reminded him when he continued to stare in silence at my breasts.
“We are married,” he said, finally looking up into my eyes. “Of course I will live with my wife.”
Of course? I wondered if some miracle had occurred and he had decided to forgive me after all. His eyes glittered when I said, “I was under the impression that you did not want to be in my company.”
“I don’t like being lied to,” he replied.
“Neither do I,” I retorted. I thought about the concessions he had won from my father, how prepared he had been to state them. I blurted out what had occurred to me on the ride back to Ashland. “You knew. Somehow, you knew.”
“I know more than even your father, it would seem.” He looked around the great hall. Dante and Avalene had wisely decided to have their evening meal in their solar, but there were others at and near our table who could overhear our conversation if they tried. “There are things we need to discuss tonight in private. Right now, I missed the midday meal and I’m famished. Let me eat, and then we will retire for the night. I have questions of my own that require answers.”
His scowl didn’t intimidate me. It made me sad, yes, but he would have to do much more than scowl to make me cower. The worst was done. He knew my secrets.
I looked down at my trencher and tried to be glad that he didn’t seem inclined to take out his anger at me with his fists. Not that he seemed all that angry anymore. Then I began to wonder what he meant, that he knew more than my father.
Richard had been seated next to Faulke for the dinner. Faulke found plenty of reasons to speak with his cousin throughout the meal, and none to speak with me. I turned my attention to Gerhardt instead, who had been seated to my right. Gretchen was next to him, and then Hilda. Now tha
t I knew Gretchen’s dilemma, it amazed me that Gerhardt didn’t see how often Richard and Gretchen exchanged looks.
All of my people had been informed of King Rudolph’s death and the new king Albert’s edict, Gerhardt informed me. Surprisingly, Gerhardt wasn’t pleased with the news. He was a second son, with no lands to return to, but he was a well-respected knight with many connections at court. Even in King Albert’s new court, he was still related to the royal family. I couldn’t think of any reason he wouldn’t prosper under the new king. If I didn’t know better, I would say he was afraid of Count Otto. Or of King Albert. It was very strange, but he remained elusive when I tried to question him on the matter.
“ ’Tis time,” Faulke said, interrupting my musings about Gerhardt.
The words sent a shock through my system, as it suddenly occurred to me that he might not only plan to stay at Ashland tonight, he might also be planning to stay in my bed. And planning everything that went along with staying in my bed.
No, he would not want me that way anymore. I could not give him children. There was no point to pretending anymore. He could have any woman he wanted, and I no longer qualified for that list.
I looked at Faulke and found him watching me already, his expression sober. I tried to swallow, and found my throat suddenly tight. “Do I need my ladies?”
“Not unless you want them privy to our conversation.”
Did I? My brain worked frantically. If I brought them along, perhaps he would keep his anger contained. Not that his anger had been all that volatile, considering what I’d told him. My ladies’ job in the evening was to prepare me for bed. I didn’t want to put any ideas in his head. I turned and then leaned around Gerhardt to speak to Gretchen and Hilda in German.
“Lord Faulke wishes to have a private discussion. Give us at least an hour before you retire.”
Gretchen nodded. Hilda smirked. But both remained in their seats when I stood. I turned again to Faulke. “I am ready.”
That was a complete lie. I wasn’t ready for anything that involved private time with my husband, but I pretended rather well. At least, I thought I did. My hands were shaking by the time we reached the solar. Faulke ordered the guards to take their post outside the doors. We were alone.
“Stop panicking,” he said as he poured two goblets of wine from an ewer that had been set on the table. He jerked his head in the direction of my chair. “Take your seat. I only want to talk.”
Of course. I glanced down at the wanton display of my breasts and suddenly felt ridiculous in my revealing gown. He only wanted to talk. He would probably leave at the end of our conversation, which would likely be the end of our marriage, in the traditional sense. I wondered if I would ever see his girls again.
“Isabel?”
I looked up at him and realized I was still standing.
He gestured again toward my chair. “Have a seat.”
Why was he so calm?
“Tell me,” I said as I settled onto my chair. “What do you know that my father and I don’t?”
He wasted no time getting to the point. “That Countess Maria had a lover for many years, a lover other than Hartman.”
He set a goblet of wine in front of me and I frowned at it, uncertain what that had to do with anything, and then it all came together in my mind. “Her children…they might not be Hartman’s?”
“ ’Tis unlikely that any but her first child are from your prince, the one named for him.”
Faulke handed me a goblet and I took a deep gulp as I absorbed the news. Maria’s younger children might not be Hartman’s, the ones born after we both had the mumps.
My skin felt as if I had just stepped too close to a fire. It tingled everywhere. “How do you know this?”
For the first time, he looked ill at ease. “My father sent spies to Rheinbaden a month after your prince died. He knew you would be returned to England when your mourning period was over. My wife, Alice, had already died. My father knew that just the possibility of a marriage to Avalene de Forshay would provide the king with more incentive to agree to a match between you and me. He wasn’t sure it would happen, so he didn’t tell me anything about his efforts to arrange this marriage until after we were betrothed.”
“I had spies at Maria’s house. Why did they not tell me?”
“Are you certain your spies were loyal?”
My retort was automatic. “Of course my—”
I stopped midsentence. Spies were not known for their honesty. Their very profession required lies. And they were Rheinbadeners. For a secret that big, their loyalty would lie with their prince.
“Hartman had died by the time my father sent spies to Rheinbaden,” Faulke said. “ ’Tis often easier to find out secrets about a dead man than a live one.”
I gave an absent nod. That made sense. Maria had made enemies, people who would turn on her when she was no longer the favorite mistress of the crown prince. “Are you certain?”
Faulke nodded. “Maria had a lover, but Hartman had many over the years. Given their numbers, Hartman should have fathered several bastards, but Maria was the only one to make that claim.”
How could I have been so blind? The question sobered me. “What did your spies learn about me?”
He folded his arms across his chest. “That you were loyal. To your people, to your family, to your faithless husband.”
I took another sip of the wine and remained silent, my brain trying hard to process all of this new information and its implications. Everything I had believed for the past ten years could be wrong.
“You knew all of this going into our marriage,” I said. “That there was a possibility I could provide the children required to secure your lands and titles.”
He shrugged, unrepentant. “The only real probability was that Hartman could not father a child. In all likelihood, the disease left you sterile as well.”
I looked up at him as a different question suddenly occurred. “Who is rumored to have fathered Maria’s children?”
He didn’t answer me right away, and instead took a moment to refill my goblet. “Maria’s children all favor Hartman. All of the royals, even the cousins, have icy blond hair and eyes a distinct shade of pale blue. Maria had been giving birth almost every year until you moved your court. That turned attention to the men within your court. It didn’t take long to get a name.”
I sipped at my wine. There was only one man in my company who was related to Hartman, who looked very much like his cousin. “Gerhardt.”
Faulke nodded.
I slammed my goblet onto the table and went to the doorway before Faulke realized my intent. I removed the bar and threw open the doors.
“Send for Sir Gerhardt,” I ordered one of the soldiers. “Tell him I need to speak with him immediately.”
Faulke closed the doors after I gave the order and led me back to the table. He put the goblet of wine in my hands.
“Think carefully how you intend to accuse him,” Faulke warned.
I gulped the wine and tried to take his advice to heart. I wasn’t sure of anything. This could all be speculation. I ran through Faulke’s accusations, examined them from every angle, and came to the same conclusions. A knock at the door announced Gerhardt’s arrival.
For the first time, I looked at Gerhardt and saw Hartman. In addition to the hair and eye color, the similarities were there in the same lean, angular build, his height, even some of his mannerisms, such as the way he narrowed his eyes at me right now.
“Princess? You called for me?” He stood in the middle of the room, looking uncertain.
“Speak French,” I told him. “ ’Tis rude to speak before my husband in a language he cannot understand.”
His gaze went to Faulke, and then returned to me. “What can I do for you, Princess?”
“Tell me why you do not
wish to return to Rheinbaden.”
Gerhardt glanced between Faulke and me. “King Albert is no longer your brother-in-law, and he is not your liege lord. As your sworn man, I am not obliged to answer his summons; only a summons from your liege lord would compel me to abandon my post.”
I drummed my fingers against the tabletop. “Now tell me the real reasons.”
Gerhardt shifted restlessly and toyed with the hilt of his dagger. Faulke came to stand beside me, where he would be in a better position to protect me. It hadn’t occurred to me until that moment that I might need protection from my protector.
“The princess has discovered your role in Countess Maria’s deception,” Faulke said. “She would like an explanation.”
Gerhardt tried to hide his reaction, but it was too late. His eyes widened, and I knew the truth in that moment. He was guilty. He had lied to me for years, or allowed the lie that had shaped much of my adult life.
“Gerhardt?” I asked. My tone demanded an explanation.
“You were never supposed to know,” Gerhardt said grimly. “No one was supposed to know, although I knew it would not remain secret once Hartman died.”
“That was the reason you were so anxious to leave Rheinbaden,” I said.
Gerhardt raked a hand through his hair. Hair the same shade as Hartman’s. “Otto knows the truth, and Albert suspected, but they could do nothing about it while Hartman lived.”
“Did Hartman know?” I asked.
Gerhardt nodded. “I had been…intimate with Countess Maria before she caught Hartman’s eye. I stepped aside for the prince, of course. Then almost a year after you lost your babe, Hartman made it clear that he wanted me to return to Maria’s bed. He said that as long as I kept the affair secret, I should enjoy her company with his blessing.”
“While Hartman continued to see her?” I said, trying to keep the disgust from my voice.
“Aye,” Gerhardt admitted. “We both knew the truth. Hartman didn’t want anyone to think the disease had left him any less a man, but it had. None of his other mistresses bore him children, only Maria. And I was the father of all but her oldest son, Hartman, named for the prince.”
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