A Love For All Seasons (22 page)

Johanna clutched it to her, lifting it until it shielded her face while impatiently studying the weave of the basket, as the men set to unloading what lay inside the cart. A mattress was leaned against the cart's side within her view. After that came the bedposts and pieces of a frame. Hope found fodder on which to feed. If a councilman's mother brought such comfort to this prisoner, it was a clear statement that those outside had good reason to fear the council might betray them in their blood lust.

"Mistress, what is this?" the captain cried out in complaint when he joined them in the tiny courtyard.

"My son has ordered me to see to Master Robert's needs, and so I shall do," the old woman retorted. "Take me to him."

Evidently the captain agreed, for Leatrice caught Johanna's arm, and they crossed to the stairs that rose from the small courtyard to the tiny hall. The maid was careful to lead her former mistress as if she were blind. Johanna might as well have been, being unable to raise her head to see where she went.

In the hall she could hear the snap and pop of torches, but it remained almost as dim within this room as it was outside. Judging by the number of footsteps it took to cross it, this chamber was smaller than her father's hall. There were rushes on the floor, but they had long since been beaten into dust while the air within reeked of smoke and unwashed men.

She and Leatrice halted at a stone wall, where the keep and the hall came together. The hope in Johanna doubled. In holding Rob in the tower's upper chamber, not the barren, windowless storeroom that lay below and into which the common criminals were thrown, the council was again making a statement that they believed him innocent.

Despite all this, Johanna’s heart was not satisfied. No matter what the council believed, it was the crowd outside that needed to be convinced. If she could not find a way to expose what Katel had done, Rob would die simply because Stanrudde's folk demanded it.

Iron grated on iron, the sound of a key scraping into its slot. "Why have you locked him in?" Mistress Alwyna cried in protest.

"I have given my word to both the council and the townsmen that Master Robert will remain within this keep until the sheriff's arrival. If he is locked in and I am the only one who holds the key, then here he shall stay no matter who tells me what." Layered in the captain's voice was a day's worth of frustration and new resentment at having to explain himself to a woman.

The latch lifted with a rusty groan then leather hinges squealed as the door opened. Following Leatrice, Johanna crossed the threshold into the room. It was Mistress Alwyna who pulled her aside to let the men carrying the bits of bed enter behind them.

As Johanna dared not lift her head until all possible witnesses were gone, she studied the glittering braid trimming the hem of the widow's green overgown. It sparked and gleamed, catching a light that should not have existed. Her gaze wandered beyond the braid to the golden glow that touched the wooden floor. There were candles lighting this room! The council was sparing no expense to make their prisoner comfortable.

Johanna drew a swift breath in understanding. This could only mean the council was divided on the issue of Rob's guilt. The town fathers were playing both sides of the fence, unwilling to further antagonize Stanrudde's folk, but not wishing to expose themselves to any charge of slander, should Rob survive.

"How is it with you, Master Robert," Mistress Alwyna called to him as her men assembled the bed.

"I am as well as any man can be when he faces death for something he has not done."

Johanna caught her breath at the hopelessness that filled Rob's tone.

"Mistress, I know you mean well," he went on, his voice just soft enough to take the sting from his words, "but this night finds me lacking patience for sociable conversation. Hie, and do what you must, then be gone with you."

Despite how his despair made Johanna's heart ache, the familiarity of his complaint shot through her. Aye, time had passed, but Rob had not changed. Just as he ever had done, he craved privacy in which to straighten his emotions.

At last, the bed was assembled. The men departed. When she heard the last footfall, Johanna began to lift her head. Mistress Alwyna pressed a hand on her arm in warning.

"Leave us to tend to Master Robert's needs in privacy," the old woman commanded.

"If that is what you'd have me do," the captain replied, his voice filled with flat stubbornness, "then be aware that I must lock you within whilst you do it."

"You will not!" Mistress Alwyna's words were a shocked protest. "We are but women. We have no plots or tricks to play."

"Leave it be," Rob said. "He is commanded by the council to keep to the letter of the law and so he is doing."

"My pardon, Master Robert—" the captain started.

"I have had enough of your pleas for pardon," Rob replied, his voice as quiet as it was lifeless. "Be gone, locking the door as you must."

As the key once more grated in its slot Mistress Alwyna claimed the basket. "Best you keep your voice low as you speak to him. Be swift at it then come aid your maid, as I must speak to him as well. Who knows but that officious prig isn't listening at the keyhole. He'll soon be demanding we leave, mark my words," she hissed, moving with Leatrice to the bed's side.

At last, Johanna raised her head. She stood beside three thick night candles set into their iron stands. The bed, yet bare of linens and blankets that yet resided in the basket Leatrice now opened, had been placed along the wall before her. His back to them, Rob stood across the room at the narrow slitted opening that had been carved from the stone wall.

Gone was the robe Johanna remembered from yesterday. Now he wore but his shirt, his dark hair curling lightly against its white collar. The garment clung to the powerful line of his shoulders, its hem reaching well past his hips to reveal brown chausses. Knee-length boots the color of rust were held in place by crisscrossing brown garters.

Between his pain and her relief at finding him unharmed Johanna's eyes filled with tears. Forgetting that both Leatrice and Mistress Alwyna might witness what she did, she threw back her hood and crossed the short distance separating them. As she laid a hand on his shoulder, she whispered, "Rob?"

He whirled on her, his movement so swift, she stepped back, her heart falling. Yesterday's insults had destroyed all care for her in him. Now he would shout at her, revealing all as he damned them both against Katel's coming charges.

Instead of rage, it was amazement that filled his gray eyes and softened the raw-boned line of his face. He looked at her uncovered hair, then to the green and brown gowns she wore beneath a maid's cloak. When his gaze again met hers he shook his head slightly, as if he could not believe she truly stood before him

Johanna watched him in return, this time seeing him without hatred, bitterness, or even yesterday's terror to blind her. No longer did she seek the boy in him. Instead, she caught her breath in appreciation for the man he had become.

Dark brown hair clung to a clear brow, accentuating the high, harsh lines of his cheekbones. He wore his beard trimmed to a narrow line against his jaw, which only complimented its strength. Set over fine pale gray eyes, his dark brows curved gently away from the narrow, straight line of his nose. Her gaze shifted to the scratches on his cheek, the ones he'd taken on her behalf. They were already fading.

Of a sudden he smiled. As it had done yesterday, the motion of his mouth set those deep creases into his lean cheeks. Happiness brought warm lights to the cool gray of his eyes. He reached out to finger one of the wayward strands of bright hair that curled around her face.

"You came to me," he breathed in astonishment as the sounds of linen being stretched across a straw-filled mattress echoed in the room.

"How could I not?" she whispered, savoring the thrill that his touch sent through her. "Did you not come to me at the risk of your own life? I owe you nothing less than the same in return."

Happiness dimmed He released her hair to gently caress a bruised spot on her face. "Is that all this is? A debt to be repaid?" As quiet as his words were the pain that filled them was terrible, indeed.

The tears she'd thought to master spilled from her eyes. Against his need to hear what lay in her heart, she forgot they were not alone or that she was wed to another. Placing her hand against his heart, she stretched upward until she touched her mouth to his.

"Nay, I came because you are the man who holds my heart, the only man I will ever love, and my one true husband," she murmured against his lips.

As Rob drew a sharp breath against her words his mouth once more claimed hers. However brief the kiss, there was no doubting its message: he loved her still. Against the knowledge she had not destroyed what was most precious to her, yesterday's blazing heat returned. She clung to him for as long as she dared before retreating.

He watched her, joy dimming into confusion. "How can this be when you said—" he started.

She pressed her fingertips to his lips to still his words. "Forgive me. Yesterday I was a blind fool. If this day finds me yet a fool, at least I am no longer blind."

"You have my pardon without question or condition," he murmured as he caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm.

With a gasp at the shock of sensation this sent through her, Johanna tore free of him and stepped back. Only with distance did she realize what they'd done and what might have been revealed. She glanced over her shoulder to see if Mistress Alwyna had noted any of this. The woman's back was to them as she worked. Relief returned breath to her lungs and she turned back to Rob.

"You must tell me how I can help you," she said, keeping her voice low. "All I know is that Katel has contrived some way to prove I have committed adultery with you."

It was as these quiet words left her mouth that she understood what fate it was Katel planned for her and why the testimony of nuns did not matter.

She stared up at Rob in shock. "Mary save me," she cried, her voice at its normal level, "he will use his proofs to convince those who want your death that I am your lover. He intends that I should hang alongside you!"

Rob stared down at Johanna, wanting desperately to disbelieve that Katel would do anything to harm his wife. Too late he felt another of the spice merchant's traps close around him. It was not Johanna who was a blind fool, but himself. Katel meant his vengeance to be absolute. Not only would he destroy the man he hated, but the woman his nemesis loved. Still, Rob shook his head in refusal.

"What man makes himself into a cuckold when no wrong had been done?" he asked, his voice also lifting into the audible range. "Even if Katel wished to do so he would have to fail. I haven't seen you in years."

"He is right, mistress," cried the petite, dark-haired maid. Drawn by Johanna's words, both she and Mistress Alwyna had turned from their task to look at them. "Am I not your witness that no adultery has been done? I have vowed to cry to all who ask that you have held tight to your virtue all the time I have known you."

Rob glanced at the one who offered this testimony, his gaze descending to the small bulge that indicated a child grew within her. There was no wimple to cover her head, meaning she was unwed. This was hardly a credible witness.

"Leatrice, you do not understand," Johanna cried. "No one will care what you say. They will not even care that I have been convent-bound these last months."

Convent-bound? Rob stared once more at Johanna, this time in the terrible fear that she had committed herself to God in order to escape Katel. If she had, she would remain forever beyond his reach even after Katel's death, the dreaming of which had occupied much of his past few hours.

"Aye," Mistress Alwyna said, understanding sparking in her dark eyes, "I see how it could happen. Those beyond the walls care naught for what is true or false, only that they feel themselves avenged.

"Now," she went on, crossing her arms before her as a new edge sharpened her voice."I think me I must ask what reason Master Katel has for making lovers of a virtuous wife, one whom he appears to adore, and the man who claims not to have seen her in years." There was enough steel in her words to say she'd do no more to aid them unless she was convinced by their reply that they did no sin.

"It is an old grudge, dating from my time in Master Walter's household," Rob replied, attempting a dodge to shield Johanna.

The old woman lifted her brows, that simple motion conveying she was not satisfied.

He glanced down at Johanna, only to have his heart take flight. Careless tendrils of red-gold hair lay gently against the delicate line of her cheeks. Beneath the wisps of gold that served as her brows, her eyes were very blue. This time it was no wish on his part that made him see affection for him in their depths. He smiled. If she had ever forgotten her love for him, it was forgotten no longer. With each and every look, she offered it to him once more.

As he watched, Johanna's gaze filled with the fierce refusal to name what they'd done as wrong. It was she, not he, who offered Mistress Alwyna her explanation. "Although I was promised to Katel, Rob and I, we ... we traded vows, although we did so without witnesses." She paused, leaving the woman to draw her own conclusions as to the consummation of those vows. "Since I have been wed to Katel, I have been naught but faithful."

"This is true," Leatrice added. "So I and any who have ever served Master Katel would say."

Rob barely heard the maid's supportive statement. Instead, the memory of sharing his oath with Johanna washed over him. There could have been no witnesses, not for them. Every bit of passion he'd known in that moment returned, bringing with it his need for her.

Johanna raised her gaze to meet his. New color stained her cheeks. It was not embarrassment's heat that seared her flesh. She too, had lost herself in the shadows of the past. Need for him sparked in her eyes.

As had happened in the alley, the very essence of her wrapped itself around him. Without thought, he reached for her. She swayed toward him, her head lifting as her mouth softened, inviting his kiss.

Mistress Alwyna laughed, the sound low and warm. "Ach! You've just finished persuading me of your innocence. You'll ruin it all if you persist in what you are doing."

Her words startled Rob into a quick backward step. His heels hit the wall behind him. Dismay flooded him. To what corner had his control fled?

As long as the world believed Johanna was Katel's wife, touching her in the presence of others was disrespectful, not only to the witnesses, but to Johanna. Ready to spew an apology, Rob looked at the two women who had beheld his misbehavior. Amusement, not condemnation, touched their faces. He glanced to Johanna, with even stronger words at hand. Her face still glowed with desire for him, her gaze reflecting only disappointment at being interrupted.

Rob relaxed. How could he have ever believed time or circumstances might change their love or their need for each other? It was this that kept him from trading vows with any other woman. In his own mind, Johanna was and would always be his wife, his to touch and love whenever he willed it.

Need and determination forged themselves into one within him. She would become his wife, this time not in private, but in the eyes of the world; he would have no other woman, save she.

Logic threw back its head and laughed in scorn. What chance had he of this? He was locked into a tower and facing death. Rob tried to ignore his inner voice as he looked at the old woman.

"If my heart is clean of sin, I will make no apologies for the affection I bear her," he said softly.

"Nor I, for what lies in my heart for him," Johanna added, this verbal confirmation of her affection sweet to Rob's ears.

"I did not expect it," Mistress Alwyna replied, then, with a decisive nod, her expression hardened and her voice lowered. "Now, I say we set our heads together and find a way to free you both from this morass. First Master Robert, know you your man is already flying on his way to Lynn, having departed no later than an hour after you requested it. When he arrives there, he will meet the one I've called to protect him and your evidence on their return trip to Stanrudde."

"My thanks, mistress," Rob said, trying to let this good news encourage relief to grow in him.

The old woman shook her head. "I tell you, I yet reel at how Master Katel has fooled us all. Never would I have given him credit for such depth or such cruelty. How callously he hurts so many to wreak vengeance against two souls."

"Aye, so he does," Rob replied, his own heart burning with the willingness, if not the way, to see Katel pay for his crimes, "and he'd be swift to stir more violence in the populace were he to learn we now plot together against him. He'll not be content until I hang."

Johanna glanced up at him, sadness touching her face at the thought of his death. "Then no breath of this meeting dare escape until a way to stop him has been found. Rob, tell me you know what it is he's done and how I can aid you." As she spoke, she stretched a hand toward him to punctuate her plea.

The desire to twine his fingers with hers was nigh on overpowering, so much so that he crossed his arms before him to stop himself. "This summer Katel stole a goodly amount of grain from me. It was this that was released last even, done so in my name to make it seem as if I were dealing in outmarket wheat." Only as he spoke did the many threads of this plot finally begin to weave themselves into whole cloth.

"Dear God," he said, in begrudging admiration for the complexity of what Katel had wrought, "but only now do I see it all. This is why he welcomes the sheriff's investigation. You say he tells you he has contrived proof of your adultery?" he asked Johanna.

"Aye," she replied, yet trapped in confusion.

"Then I am certain Katel yet has seed in store," he told them. "When the sheriff arrives to investigate, Katel will
find
this proof of his. Whatever this is, whether parchment or token of some kind, it must not only connect Mistress Johanna to the grain, but reveal the location of his hidden stores. In all horror at what his wife and her lover have done Katel will bear this proof to the sheriff, crying himself cuckolded. It is then that we both will hang."

"Pleading our innocence with our last breaths," Johanna mused.

With a glance at her, Rob again focused his attention on the wool merchant's dam. "Tell me, Mistress Alwyna, would the council consider allowing the poor cuckold the opportunity to sell what he has found on his own property?"

"Mother of God," the old woman breathed. "There's not a man among them, my son included, who wouldn't see that as just compensation for his shame and your sin. Do you think the sheriff would allow it?"

Rob shrugged. "If he does not claim it all for king and court, he will, taking a portion of the profit for himself. Not that this would overly trouble Katel. He must have already reaped himself a rich sum on what he sold last even. To add to that after our deaths would be the crowning bit of pleasure he accrues in having destroyed us."

"Nay, he cares naught that there is profit in the remaining koren," Johanna said, her tone flat and hard. "It exists only to prove my adultery, for only if I am thusly shamed do my father's properties fall into Katel's hands and not my son's."

Rage tore through Rob at the news that she'd borne Katel a child. With it came the image of Johanna lying beneath his enemy. He struggled to tame his jealousy, common sense reminding him that Katel was her husband in all eyes save his. Johanna had had no choice but to bed him.

Beside him, Johanna breathed out a long and almost anxious sigh. "I know now what I must do. The sooner I am returned home, the sooner I will find whatever it is he has hidden that ties me to that grain. Only in destroying it will Rob and I be safe." She turned as if she meant to depart that very minute.

Fear for her exploded in him, slaughtering his own selfish need to own her, body and soul, even during the years they'd been apart. He caught her by the arm to hold her in place. "You will not!"

"You must do better than that, Mistress Johanna," Mistress Alwyna said, speaking over his complaint. "Once you've discovered his hiding place, you must send to me so my men can retrieve the wheat. If we leave Master Katel without that which he has stolen, one portion of his threat against you will be disabled. Meanwhile, Master Robert need only wait for his man and mine to return from Lynn with evidence of his innocence. Between us all, we will see this evil exposed."

"Are you mad?" Rob snarled at Mistress Alwyna. "You cannot expect Mistress Johanna to return to her husband, not when he seeks her death." He looked from one woman to the other, waiting for them to realize the impossibility of their intentions.

"Rob, if not me, then who?" Johanna freed herself from his grasp, her expression filled with her determination to protect him. "There is no one else to do what needs doing."

"Send yon maid," he demanded, pointing at the pregnant girl.

"Would that I could go in her stead, master," Leatrice replied, seeming not the least bit pleased at this reprieve. "However, I would get no farther than the gate. Because I dared to let Master Katel's seed take root in my womb the master has dismissed me from his service, threatening me with violence should I attempt to return." If her fists clenched, Leatrice bowed her head in what might have been shame.

Only then did Rob recognize in her even features and dark coloring the sort of woman Katel had always favored. Her words eased his jealousy, reminding him that Katel had never found Johanna attractive, then filled him with a new rush of anger. While the spice merchant plotted to destroy his wife with a false charge of adultery, he indulged himself in that same sin, along the way making more of the bastards he so despised.

"That hypocrite!" Mistress Alwyna cried, her thoughts having followed his.

At this, the maid raised her head. It was not embarrassment that filled her, rather hatred's fire. She lowered her hand to caress her swollen abdomen. "Know you, Master Robert," she said, her voice harsh with promise, "I now offer you the same vow I gave my mistress. When the time is right, I will cry aloud your innocence for all the world to hear."

Although Leatrice might hope to have the opportunity to destroy the one who's used her, Rob doubted her ability to harm Katel. Nonetheless, it was hardly wise for a man in his particular state to refuse any offer of aid, no matter its likelihood. "My thanks for that, Leatrice. If you are without hearth, you will find a home at mine, that is, if you are willing to come to Lynn." He only hoped he lived long enough to fulfill the offer.

Against this kindness the girl's need for vengeance dimmed and the fierce harridan transformed back into the child she was. Her lips trembled, her eyes filled. "My thanks, Master Robert. You are very kind. I beg pardon for earlier thinking you guilty of this crime."

"Given," he said with a small smile.

Mistress Alwyna set an arm around the girl's shoulder. "You need not go so far away to find a place, Leatrice. There is always room in my house for a stout-hearted servant like yourself."

"You do not mind that I have sinned?" Leatrice asked, her cheeks now bearing twin wet streaks.

"We are all sinners of one sort or another," the wool merchant's mother replied. "If Our Lord can forgive, so should we. I wager you've learned your lesson. Now, come," she said, turning the maid back toward the bed, "we have work to complete, and they have matters to discuss between them that are not for our ears.

"By the by, Master Robert," she called over her shoulder, "I've brought you your mantle and your pin, against the chill of this room. I'll leave it on the mattress, taking my son's with me as I depart."

"My thanks, mistress," he replied, waiting for the two of them to turn their backs.

"You cannot stop me," she replied, her jaw set to its most stubborn angle. "Do not worry so. Katel dares do me no physical hurt else he'll lose those properties he so desires. Besides, he has no reason to suspect that we have shared what we know and now plot against him, nor will he ever know, not if revealing it places you in harm's way." She made these final words sound like a vow.