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"All men consider things that they would never do, nephew. Recognizing one's options is not the same as choosing them."
David frowned thoughtfully and then nodded, as if he completely understood the Comte's explanation and had reason to accept it as sound.
The tension slowly unwound.
"I promise that there will be time enough to move your forces. The ships were not even half ready to sail when I left," David said.
That seemed to lighten the mood even more. The Comte smiled pleasantly, even warmly. David walked over and took her hand. "Show me our chamber, Christiana. I want to get out of this steel that has broiled my body under the hot sun all day."
"I will send my squires to help you," the Comte said. "And tell the mistress to have servants prepare a bath for you."
Christiana wordlessly led David out of the hall and toward the tall side building that held the chambers.
"The man drains me," David muttered as they walked through the warm night. "It is like negotiating with the image I see in a mirror."
Chapter 20.
The two squires removed David's armor. They kept calling him "my lord." Christiana glanced with annoyance at her husband's tall body standing spread legged while the plate came off. One would think he had done this a thousand times.
Near the low-burning hearth fire, servants prepared the water in a deep wooden hip bath. One girl kept looking at David and smiling sweetly whenever she caught his eye. Christiana grabbed her by the scruff of the neck when the last pail had been poured.
"Out. I will attend my husband."
The servants scurried away. The squires finished their long ch.o.r.e and, calling merry farewells, drifted off. David stripped off his inner garments and settled into the tub.
The sight of his body stirred her more than she cared to admit. She cursed silently at her weakness and at her traitorous heart's independence from her will and mind. Our life together has been one long illusion, she fumed. It was a mistake to think that I could find contentment in pleasure alone. He will always be a stranger. I will always be the plaything who shares his bed but not his life. I will have it out with him once and for all and then demand another chamber. She pulled over a stool, sat down, and faced him.
"Aren't you going to attend me?" he asked.
"Wash," she ordered dangerously, throwing him a chunk of soap. "And talk."
"Ah," he said thoughtfully.
"And no *ahs,' David. One more *ah' and I will drown you."
"I understand that you are angry, darling. Believe me, I went through great trouble not to involve you. I intended you to know nothing. Edward would never have blamed you for my sins. The Comte surprised me with this abduction. Frankly, I am disappointed in him."
"Are you indeed?"
"Aye. I expected more chivalry of him. To abduct and endanger an innocent womana It is really very churlish."
"He wants the name of the port, David. He would probably kill me if he thought it would make you give it to him a minute sooner."
"Which is why I want him to think that we are not content together. I do not want him debating whether he can use you against me. Once the Constable d'Eu arrives, I will get his a.s.surance of your safety before I speak with them. The constable is reputed to be honorable to the point of stupidity."
She rolled her eyes. "Let us start at the beginning. Is the Comte in fact your kinsman?"
"It would seem so."
"How long have you known?
"Almost my whole life. My mother told me of my father when I was a child. So I would know that I was not an ordinary, gutter variety b.a.s.t.a.r.d."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"It is a claim easily made but hard to prove, Christiana. And unless a b.a.s.t.a.r.d is recognized, it has no value." He watched himself lather an arm. "Would it have helped, darling?"
She sorely wished that she could say not. "It might have. At the beginning."
"Then I am sorry that I didn't tell you."
"Nay, you are not. Your pride wanted me to accept you as the merchant, not the son of Senlis. You can be very strange, David. Not many men would think n.o.ble blood makes them less than they are instead of more."
He glanced at her sharply. She let him see her anger.
"You lied to me," she said. "Over and over."
"Only to protect you. This began long before we met. I sought to keep you out of it, ignorant of it, so that you would be spared if something went wrong."
"I am your wife. No one would believe my ignorance."
"You are the daughter of Hugh Fitzwaryn and were a ward of the King. All would believe it. Neither Edward nor his barons would have blamed you for the actions of your merchant husband."
His bland excuses infuriated her. She raised her fists and slammed them down on her lap. "I am your wife! If something went wrong, I would have had to watch them tear your body apart even if I was spared. I still may have to, for all that I know. But worse, you hid yourself from me, hid your true nature, who you are."
That hardness played around his mouth and eyes. "You have not been my wife for months now. Should I have trusted the girl who lived in my home like a guest or a cousin?"
"Better a guest than some precious artwork. Better a cousin than a piece of n.o.ble property purchased to salve the forgotten son's wounded pride."
His eyes flashed. "If you truly believe that, then there is no point in explaining anything to you. No matter what I said that day, you should know better of me."
"Know better of you? Right now I don't think that I know you at all, d.a.m.n you. And do not insinuate that our separation led you to maintain your deception. You had no intention of telling me anything until this was over, no matter how dutiful I might have been. What then? Would you have stayed in France and sent for me? Written a letter that bid me to attend on you here?"
"It always was and still is my intention to give you a choice."
"Indeed? Well, your uncle has closed that door!"
"That remains to be seen."
She looked away until she regained control. She smoothed the skirt of her gown. "I want you to tell me all of it. Now. I would know my situation and my choices. From the beginning."
He told his tale while he washed. "It began simply enough. Edward had asked me to make the maps. It occurred to me that when the time came, I might learn the port that he chose from the questions that he asked me about them. I have never really forgiven my father for what he did to Joanna. He destroyed her and left her to the mercy of the world. Perhaps I also resented his ignorance and neglect of me. Anyway, not really expecting it to work, I began making enough mistakes in France so that anyone paying attention might suspect what I did there. And I began using the three serpents as the device on my seal. They were carved into a ring my father left with my mother. She thought it like a wedding ring, but I suspect he had intended it as payment for her favors."
He paused and lathered the soap between his hands. The gesture distracted him. Christiana watched him examine the white foam and then the cake itself. She had to smile. The merchant's wife had been similarly distracted during her first bath here.
"It comes from a town on the Loire," she said.
David smelled the foam. "Superior, isn't it? I wondera"
"Twenty large cakes for a mark."
He raised his eyebrows. She watched him silently begin calculating the cost of importation and the potential profit.
"David," she said, calling him back.
"Aye. Well, my plan was to let the Comte know of me, realize our connection, and then approach me for the port. I would resist and let him cajole me by playing on the bonds of kinship. I would relent, accepting no payment so he thought that I did it for my blood and so trusted me. But I would give him the wrong port. The French army would go in one direction, Edward would come from the other, and the way would be clear for an English victory."
She looked at his expression. Matter-of-fact. Blase. As if men calculated such elaborate schemes all of the time and spent years manipulating the pieces.
He enjoys this, she realized. He traveled to the Dark Continent and he crosses the Alps every other year. He needs the adventure, the planning, the challenge.
"And you would have punished that family for your mother's fate," she added.
"That too. I doubt that the Comte de Senlis would remain on the King's council after giving such bad advice. A loss of status and honor, but no real harm. Unlike Joanna's fall. Still, some justice."
"So what went wrong?"
"Nothing. It unfolded as planned. Except for a few surprises. Early on, Honore, the last Comte, died, and his brother Theobald took his place. A more dangerous man, Theobald."
She stood up and paced slowly around the chamber. She waited for the rest. David waited longer.
"What did you mean when you said that about his heir wanting him dead?" she blurted.
"The other surprise. A very big one. He did not offer me silver. He offered me recognition and Senlis itself. Honore's and Theobald's other sons are dead. He offered to swear that his brother had made secret vows with my mother. It would be a he, but it would secure my right to inherit."
She stared at him.
David. Her merchant. The Comte de Senlis.
"Men have been tempted to treason by much less, my girl."
"You said that you had no interest in being a knight."
He laughed. "Darling, a knight is one thing. A leading baron and councilor to the King of France is quite another."
"You are going to do it then?"
"I have not yet decided. What would you have me do?"
"Nay, David. You began this long ago. You do not foist the choice on me now."
She began pacing again, thinking out loud. "There are many men who owe fealty to two kings or lords. Many English barons also have lands in France. Everyone understands that loyalties conflict sometimes."
He reached out and caught her arm as she pa.s.sed. His grasp held her firmly and he looked up at her, shaking his head. "Let us not pretend that I face other than I do.What you say is true, but there are rules that decide which way a man goes in those cases. This is different. If I help the Comte and France, if I do this, I betray a trust and a friendship and my country. For the prize that is offered, I am not above doing it, but I will not pretend it is prettier than it is."
d.a.m.n him. d.a.m.n him. There were enough ambiguities here for a bishop to rationalize his actions. He could at least let her find some comfort in them.
"France is your country, David," she pointed out. "Your father was French."
"In truth, I find that it is not England that concerns me. Or even Edward. He has had barons do worse by him, and he possesses a large capacity for understanding and even forgiving such things. Nay, it is London that has been on my mind. If not for my city, I do not think that I would hesitate."
He held up the soap. "Since you sent the servants away, you could at least wash my back."
She knelt behind him and smoothed the lather over his muscles. Despite her inner turmoil, she couldn't help but notice that it was the first time that she had touched his body in months. A slight tensing beneath her palm told her of his awareness of it, too.
"You lied to me in April. You came to France and did not go to Salisbury."
"I could hardly implicate you with the truth." He glanced over his shoulder. "That day in the wardrobe. Your questions. How much did you suspect?"
"Most of it eventually, but not about your father. I heard Frans's first approach to you. I was hiding in the pa.s.sageway. But I wasn't sure that it had been you there. I learned that he was an agent for the French cause. I saw you meet with him again at Westminster. When the Comte came to Hampstead, I heard his voice before he left. I knew that he was French and a n.o.ble."
"You thought that I might be selling Edward's plans for silver?"
"It was one explanation for these things. Actually, it was the silver that didn't make sense. You enjoy your wealth, but are too generous to be a man who would do anything out of greed."
He twisted around and looked down at her. "If you knew so much, I am surprised that you did not leave sooner, while I was gone, for your own safety and the honor of your family. You might have gone to Edward with your suspicions. Why didn't you?"
She looked away from his knowing eyes. She did not want the vulnerability that answering would expose. Besides, it was her turn for questions.
"You had said that you would come back in April and I believed you. Did you lie about that, too?"
He shook his head. "I had not decided what I would do once I got here, but I expected to come back in either case. If I had given the Comte the port of Bordeaux, and he had gone there, Edward would never have suspected me or anyone else even if the whole of France waited for him. Half of their army is already in the south dealing with Grossmont. The rest might have received reports of the ships sailing down the coast, or have gone to reinforce the siege at Angiullon down there. I fully expected to return, a.s.suming that Theobald would permit it."
His steady gaze and quiet voice, his face so close to hers, disconcerted her. Her resolve began loosening. She pushed his shoulder so that she could rinse off the soap, and he turned away.
"But now Lady Catherine has told Edward about you, and so you cannot go back. Why would she do this? Is she angry about the property in Hampstead?"
He didn't respond for several moments. She suspected that he debated his answer. She braced herself for more lies.
"Lady Catherine and I have a long history. The property is a small and recent part of it. She did me an injury when I was a youth. The evidence is beneath your fingers now. Some months ago I responded in kind."
She rocked back on her heels in shock. She looked down at the strong back and the diagonal scars on it. Despite her determination to treat him with the same indifference he felt for her, her heart tore. She didn't need to hear the story, because she could imagine it. Her fingertips traced the thin, permanent welts. She pictured him being flogged as a boy. She saw Lady Catherine, secure in the immunity that her n.o.bility gave her, ordering it for some perceived slight or crime. Not in London, of course. Even as an apprentice, he would have been protected there.
He had responded in kind. Did that mean Catherine's own skin bore scars now? She hoped so. She felt a wave of tenderness for the youth who had been so harshly abused. She barely resisted the urge to kiss those welts.
This is madness, she admonished herself. He wants no sympathy or tenderness from me. I am no part of his history or his revenge. I have no role in the pageant unfolding now, either. At best I am an inconvenience with which the Comte has complicated his plans.
"You say that you have not decided what to do, David. What will happen if you will not give the port tomorrow?"
She was glad that she couldn't see his face. If he lied to her, she didn't want to know.
"The Comte has done everything possible to ensure that that isn't much of a choice anymore. Catherine did go to Edward as I said, but the Comte's surprise at the news was false. He sent her to betray me, to force my hand in this. Her plan to keep me in England so that Edward could capture me was all her own, however. Still, he sought to force me out of England, and he took you so that I would have to come here. With my life endangered in England, he knows that his offer becomes very attractive." He paused.