A Silver Mirror

by Roberta Gellis

  He was, thus, just behind and a yard to the right of Guy de Montfort when Guy pushed aside John FitzJohn, who was also moving toward Edward and his attendants, and stepped right into Barbara’s path. William Muntchenesy caught Lord John’s elbow to steady him and both began to protest Guy’s rude behavior, but Guy only reached toward Barbara and said, “I have been waiting for you. Come.”

  The shock and disgust Barbara felt on finding herself almost breast to breast with Guy was all the greater because he had been expunged from her mind until that moment. She was already angry about what seemed like treachery on Leicester’s part, and when Guy touched her, her temper shattered, destroying any idea of caution. She swung her arm in an arc and smashed her clenched fist into the side of Guy’s nose.

  “Lecher!” she shrieked at the top of her voice. “Take your hand from me, you filth!”

  Half stunned, with blood streaming from his nose, Guy bellowed with rage and reached out to grab her shoulder, but she had already jumped back. Unfortunately Aliva was so close behind that Barbara bumped into her and could not altogether avoid Guy’s touch. Instead of falling on her shoulder, his hand landed on her breast and tightened. Barbara cried out and twisted away, but his fingers caught on the fabric of her gown. Barbara thrust at his hand, and Guy instinctively gripped harder. Simultaneously, John FitzJohn seized him by the left arm and Despenser by the shoulder, and both men tried to pull him away. Barbara’s tunic and surcoat seams tore under the strain, leaving her thin shift the only covering over her left breast. With loud exclamations of shock, FitzJohn and Despenser released their hold on Guy.

  Because he had been resisting them, Guy staggered forward, completely off balance, crashing into Barbara, who stumbled back. Feeling himself falling, Guy let go of Barbara’s gown to take hold of some more stable support. The check to his forward movement came from another source, however. A large hand seized his hair and pulled him away from Barbara. Soon as he was upright, his hair was released, he was spun around, and a fist as hard as steel crashed into his chin. Guy went down like a stunned ox.

  Alphonse bent to pick him up and hit him again, but Prince Edward had grabbed him by one arm and Thomas de Clare by the other. They pulled Alphonse away from Guy, both shouting to let be. Aliva had caught and steadied Barbara, who had pulled up her tunic and was holding it in place, though her surcoat still hung loosely over her waist.

  The noise and violence suddenly became a breath-held silence broken only by Guy’s groan. Alphonse said, “Let me go to my wife,” and the prince and Thomas released him. He stepped over Guy’s prone body and pulled Barbara into his arms. Despenser bent over Guy, who was beginning to stir, and the tight crowd that had formed opened to admit Leicester and young Simon, who helped his brother to his feet.

  “Who committed this outrage?” Leicester asked.

  “Guy,” Alphonse answered before anyone else could speak. “I merely stopped him from assaulting my wife.”

  “In public?” young Simon sneered. “Nonsense.”

  A low but very ugly sound, a growling snarl, came from the crowd. Leicester looked at the angry, unfriendly faces—even his strongest allies, Despenser and Muntchenesy were clearly angry and disgusted, and FitzJohn made a gesture of contempt.

  “Guy—” Leicester began, but Barbara pulled free of her husband before he could finish.

  “Do you think I ordinarily come to court with my breasts bare?” she asked furiously, showing her torn dress to the crowd, which was growing larger by the moment. “Guy said he had been waiting for me, ordered me to come with him, and when I shook my head he grabbed my breast. Ask Lord Hugh and Lord John, who tried to pull him off me. Do I lie, my lords?”

  “You hot slut—” Guy began.

  Whereupon Leicester turned on his son and slapped his face. “Out,” he said gesturing to the door, and then to Simon, “See that he stays in his quarters today. I will talk to him in the morning.”

  “I hope your talk will induce him to keep his hands from my wife,” Alphonse said.

  Edward had stepped forward and put a comforting hand on Barbara’s shoulder. “When my father ruled, even princes did not meddle with decent wives in this country, my lord earl,” he said to Leicester.

  “Your father still rules,” Leicester snapped.

  Edward laughed. “Perhaps, but his son no longer has the power to protect his subjects.”

  “There is no need for personal protection,” Leicester said. “There is the law—”

  “I should have let him rape me and then sued him?” Barbara shrieked.

  Leicester’s face twisted with mingled anger and distress. “The fault is mine,” he said. “Guy wished to marry this lady, and I forbade it.”

  “No, my lord,” Barbara spat. “Guy never offered me marriage. I only told my father that tale because I was afraid he would kill Guy and break the peace.”

  “I think you misunderstood,” Leicester said coldly. “Guy is young and impulsive. You hurt him. Now I think it would be best if you were not constantly in his sight.”

  “You would separate me from my husband and remove me from public sight?” Barbara cried. “Why? So that I can be taken and abused at your son’s will and no man the wiser?”

  “Good God, no!” Leicester exclaimed. “I am sure it will be the prince’s pleasure to release your husband from his household. He may then carry you home to France where you will be safe.”

  “If we are not taken on the road, so I can be murdered and my wife enslaved,” Alphonse said. “And do not make light of the threat. Guy tried it once already not far north of Gloucester—”

  “That is how we came to be taken prisoner by Hamo le Strange,” Barbara put in. “We would have been safe in the town had not Alphonse had to fight Guy and I to flee north for safety.”

  “You will have no more trouble from Guy in public, in private, on the road, or anywhere else,” Leicester said, his mouth grim. “Again, the fault is mine. I did not realize the boy was obsessed. The problem will be corrected. To be certain you are safe—”

  “You will send an escort?” Alphonse looked around at the watchers. “Where will we arrive, I wonder, my wife and I? And who will ever know what has become of us?”

  “I will send an escort,” Despenser said, cutting off an explosion of rage from Leicester. “From the time you leave my lodging, the men will obey no orders except those you give, Sieur Alphonse. And we will say nothing of your destination. You may order the captain to take you where you will after you leave Northampton.”

  “I thank you, my lord.” Barbara bent her knee in a curtsy. She did not like Hugh le Despenser, but she knew his narrow sense of honor. What he promised, he would perform honestly.

  Her sense of satisfaction in getting back at Guy upheld Barbara until Alphonse had escorted her into Aliva’s solar. They were alone. Aliva had wanted to accompany her friend home, but Despenser forbade her, saying it was her duty to stay behind and heal whatever damage the incident had done. Barbara had smiled and kissed her, assuring her she needed no female support. Now, however, the shock that rage and glee had kept at bay made her knees tremble and presented a side to the incident she had not before considered.

  “I am so sorry, Alphonse,” she whispered, raising stricken eyes to him.

  “Sorry?” Alphonse repeated absently. He had stopped not far from the door, his eyes fixed ahead unseeingly, his mind clearly busy. Then his eyes focused and when he saw the expression on her face, he moved quickly to take her into his arms. “Sorry for what, love?”

  “You warned me about Guy, but I forgot all about him, and now I have lost Prince Edward a friend—”

  “No, dear heart,” he kissed her lightly, and when he lifted his head he was wearing a broad smile, “I did that, and I did it apurpose. Had I wished to avoid the confrontation, I needed only to cry out that you were fainting and hysterical and have carried you away the moment I took you in my arms. In fact, you miracle of a woman, it is I who should beg your pardon for exposing
you to more insult and anguish, but I knew you would do just the right thing.”

  Barbara was silent for a moment and then said in a lowered voice, “You wanted an excuse to return to Gilbert in Wales?”

  “My work here is done. I am as familiar as I need to be with the way Edward is guarded and the workings of his household. What plans could be made have been made. Thomas has a new way to get word out, and I would prefer to explain the possibilities for escape to Gilbert and Mortimer myself. Some matters must be left to chance, but one thing is essential. There must be no war, no open break between Leicester and Gloucester, until the prince is free.”

  “Because without Edward’s influence, Gilbert will be defeated.”

  “We are sure of it. Gilbert is a fine soldier, but he can raise troops only from his own lands. Few except the lords Marcher, who are already declared enemies to Leicester, will join him. The case will be very different if Edward raises his own banner. So the prince has ordered me to persuade Gilbert to hesitate and negotiate while openly preparing for war. That will fix Leicester’s attention on Gilbert, which Edward will encourage by acting meek and docile.”

  “Meek and docile? But what he said in the hall—”

  “Gave the impression that he is trying to sow dissension from within the court.”

  “And therefore has given up the idea of escape.”

  Knowing that Alphonse and the prince had been deliberately baiting Leicester gave Barbara a brief flash of regret. For a moment she saw the earl as a noble old stag beset by yapping, snapping hounds. The regret did not last, however. Leicester might be noble, but he was also blind, still offering excuses for the inexcusable Guy.

  “I doubt we can befool Leicester that far.” Alphonse’s voice broke into Barbara’s thought. “But we do hope to soften his suspicion, which is why Edward does not wish to send me away himself. Unfortunately, Leicester has been so careful not to seem to interfere with Edward that we were not certain how to induce him to dismiss me.” He grinned and kissed her again. “And then you arranged it all.”

  Barbara could not help laughing. “You make it sound as if I planned to have my dress torn off by that clod.”

  “Did you not?” Alphonse asked lightly.

  “I would not even have quarreled with him if I had not already been angry about something else,” Barbara said, suddenly reminded of why she had run into Guy without seeing him. She then hurriedly told Alphonse about Leicester’s orders to the sheriffs for May 3. “Is it a trap? Would they have taken Gilbert on his way home if he had come to the tourney?”

  “I cannot swear, but I think part of the price Leicester would ask for a reconciliation would be that Gilbert not go west again, leaving the Marchers to Leicester’s mercy. Of course, if Gilbert made and kept such an agreement and went, say, to Tonbridge, there would be no way to spring any trap. So Leicester is not being dishonest.”

  Barbara sighed. “Then you are fortunate, for if I had thought of that I would not have been in a rage with Hugh le Despenser. I would have stayed beside him, where Guy would never have accosted me, and—”

  “Someone is answering the prince’s prayers,” Alphonse said, only partly in jest.

  “Not unless we can get to Gilbert.” Barbara stepped out of her husband’s encircling arm and bent over the basket of clothing. “Surely you are not going to order Despenser’s men to ride with us to St. Briavels?”

  “No. We will have to go to London first and pretend to be looking for a ship. As soon as Despenser’s men are gone, we will simply pack up and ride west. Our journey will be longer that way, but this is a good time of year to travel and there is no great hurry. We only need to get to St. Briavels before Leicester comes west to join his army on the third of May.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Gilbert welcomed them back to St. Briavels with delight for their company and enthusiasm for their news—although there was one piece that Alphonse told him, which he heard with mixed feelings, about which Barbara knew nothing. While they were in London Alphonse had not “pretended” to look for a ship, he had in earnest sought one going to France that would carry a message from Prince Edward to Queen Eleanor. Alphonse had hidden his action, not for fear his wife would betray him but because he wanted to save her from worrying about her uncle being involved in the invasion the prince was now urging. Alphonse knew Barbara would have to know about the invasion soon, but he hoped she would not hear about it until her uncle was out of danger. Edward’s message urged that no grandiose plans be made. All that was needed was the arrival of a diversionary party, a hundred men or so, to confuse and delay Leicester.

  By May 3, Leicester had arrived with the king and prince in the town of Gloucester. On the fifth, the Earl of Gloucester marched his army into the forest west of the town. He camped on a hill, and the campfires of his men lit up the countryside by night. However, the army did not raid, and the next day Gilbert sent a party to Leicester with a long complaint about the subjection of the king, the unfair distribution of castles and prisoners, and the exaltation of Leicester’s family.

  Although Gilbert made no request for an accommodation, Leicester assumed that was a mark of his youthful pride. The fact that Gloucester was restraining his men and had stated the causes of his dissatisfaction implied that Gloucester was having second thoughts and wished to make peace. If it occurred to anyone that the bill of complaint might as well set forth Gloucester’s reasons for breaking with Leicester, no one mentioned it. On May 7 Leicester sent four of his supporters—the Bishop of Worcester, Hugh le Despenser, John FitzJohn, and William Muntchenesy—to Gloucester’s camp with Gloucester’s own men to settle the differences. Gloucester’s men also brought some interesting information from Thomas de Clare.

  Two different councils with diametrically opposite purposes, one to discuss the differences between Leicester and Gloucester, the other to make plans for Edward’s escape based on the information Thomas had given Gloucester’s men, were held on May 8. As a result of the latter, Alphonse, who had been with Gloucester, although he had kept out of sight of the delegation from Leicester, rode from Gilbert’s camp to St. Briavels that night and gave Barbara a pleasant surprise when he slid into her bed after midnight.

  “But I will be away again tomorrow,” he sighed, nibbling her neck and ears. “I need to take four or five fine horses to Gilbert. The horses will be sent to Thomas, and he will offer one to the prince, who will thus have a good reason to try the paces of each. Edward can then ask to try the horses of his escort for comparison. When he has tired them all, except for his chosen mount and the one Thomas is riding, he and Thomas will gallop away.”

  Barbara was so distracted by his wandering lips, by the hand that toyed with her breast and the other that strayed between her legs, that she only sighed, “Oh, marvelous,” and Alphonse laughed and gave all his attention to what was, at the moment, most important.

  The next morning, however, after they had been to mass in the chapel and had broken their fast in the hall, talking freely of the sad state of Thomas’s mounts and the need for fresh horses for him, Barbara asked Alphonse to come back to the south tower for a moment to try on a new gown she was sewing for him. Once alone in the bedchamber she said, “Edward may gallop away on one of the fine horses you send to Thomas and he might outdistance his escort, but the whole of Leicester’s army will gallop after him as soon as one of that escort returns and cries the alarm.”

  “The prince will not have far to go to reach Gloucester’s forces.”

  Barbara stood quite still staring down at her clasped hands. “I thought the plan was for the prince to escape so that he could collect an army. Is Gilbert’s army strong enough to win a battle against Leicester?”

  “No.”

  Alphonse could have laughed aloud for joy but did not for fear of offending her. He was more sure of her love every day. It was fear for him that was marked by those tight-clasped hands, and he could not help smiling when he lifted her face and kissed her. “But we
do not intend to fight a battle,” he pointed out. “Gilbert will hold off Leicester only until Edward’s escape is ensured. Then we will all drift away into the hills and regather elsewhere. Do not worry. Probably I will not be engaged, or Gilbert either. You will hear from me in a ten-day or less.”

  Alphonse did not realize that Barbara did not believe him, that she assumed his good humor was only a mark of his reckless joy in fighting, so that he was doubly delighted by the warmth with which she greeted him when he returned to St. Briavels, this time accompanying Gloucester, only two days later. Second thoughts diminished Alphonse’s delight in Barbara’s growing love for him. Much as he loved her, much as he wanted her, the closer they came to open war the more Barbe’s presence was a burden.

  For himself Alphonse had no fear. He recognized the chance of death in war, and though he did not want to die, all the more since Barbe had become his, he did not fear dying. Nor had he any reason to be afraid of anything else. He could move about with Gloucester’s army to avoid Leicester’s and he could fight when the armies did meet.

  A woman did not have his alternatives. Barbe would be confined to one keep or another, and any of them might be the focus of an attack. Knowing her, Alphonse was sure she would try to defend any place in which she was set. He shuddered at the thought. If she were taken, she would be a proven rebel and denied even a pretense of Leicester’s protection. After the open quarrel with Leicester in Northampton, Alphonse was certain that if Barbe were not thrown to the men who had captured her refuge, she would be handed over to Guy’s tender care. He wanted her away from Wales, away from the battles that would soon take place, and free of any hint of association with the rebels.

  How to send her away was not as simple as the decision that she would be safer under her father’s protection. A crisis for the Royalist cause was rapidly approaching, and Alphonse did not want to discuss the dangers of a defeat with Gilbert before the prince had actually escaped.