A Love For All Seasons (27 page)

"Would that I were." Her father eased back into the mattress, worn from this much conversation. "The proof of my tale lies in his departure, does it not?"

Although everything within her protested that Rob would never have traded coins for her, her ability to resist was failing beneath her sire's pounding onslaught. Depression came creeping over her. Whether he loved her or not, Rob was now leagues beyond her reach.

Johanna stared at her sire. There was nothing left to stand between her and marriage to Katel. In her desperation to avoid a fate she could not tolerate, she sought within her to find some remaining defense. It was a shoddy barrier that she devised.

"No matter what you've done, Rob will return for me," she told him, even while the hopelessness within her said he never would. "Rob will not allow another to wed me. He loves me."

Papa only shook his head, his eyes filled with sadness. "Believe as you must, child. I tell you what. Let us make a bargain, we two. You say he'll come. I vow to you now that if he arrives before you are wed to Katel, I will see the betrothal broken and marry the two of you. If he does not, then you must wed Katel as has been so long planned."

With that, her father released his breath. His eyes closed, and he drifted back into sleep. Johanna stared at him, battered and bereft. So deep was her hopelessness not even anger's spark could find fodder in it.

His promise hung before her. She grabbed for it, clutching it tightly into her heart, despite that she knew he only offered it because he was certain Rob would not return. It was all that kept her from drowning in her fear and loneliness.

"He will come," she told her sleeping sire. "No matter what you've done to drive him away, Rob will come for me. He must," she sobbed quietly, "else I will surely die."

Johanna turned to stare at her husband. Caught in the yellowish light of the lamp she'd left atop the trunk, Katel's fleshy features seemed made of wax. His white shirt took on the color of the parchment she'd just burnt, while the deep red of his chausses browned. Spiked from sleep, his pale hair stood out about his head, but his gaze was alert. If he'd been drinking, he'd not had enough to make him drunk.

Her gaze slipped from him to her mother's green chest. With each breath she tasted the stink of the skins. The time for hiding what she'd done had come and passed. All was lost.

Katel blinked then frowned as he stared at the skirts flowing through the edges of her cloak. There was a flash of surprise in his eyes as he recognized the gowns he'd hidden. With that, fear for herself and Rob tightened its grip on Johanna. Their fates had been sealed from the moment Elyas removed these garments from their hiding place. One glimpse of them told Katel he was exposed.

"What is this?" her husband hissed as he turned to look toward the corner. Betrayer that it was, the lamp's merry flame cheerfully scattered its light onto the dishware strewn along the wall.

Staggering over to the emptied chest, he stared into its barren depths. A swat of his hand sent the false bottom tumbling to the floor. The clatter of wood against wood was loud in the room's intense silence. Johanna flinched at the sound. Her survival and Rob's now rested in the hands of a child, one given to fanciful tales. What if Wymar did not believe him, as he hadn't about the chest? The certainty that the cook would not sent her heart spiraling downward into despair.

Katel turned, swaying slightly as he did so. As he strode toward the fireplace he regained a little more control over himself with each step. He was steady on his feet by the time he stopped before the hearth.

Coughing against the thickened air, he leaned down to snatch the smoldering remains of a forged missive from the hot coals. It was as Johanna watched him stare at the blackened thing that this morn's angry need to outlast Katel's threat returned. She'd only just reclaimed her life from the hatred that had consumed her; she couldn't give it up so soon.

When Katel raised his head from the charred skin it was to aim his gaze beyond her. "What do you think this is?" he barked at the menservants who yet clung to the edges of the light. "Some public show to entertain you?"

Shoes scuffed, men cleared their throats. The sounds died away in the next instant as they disappeared into the eclipsing blackness that held the hall in its clutches. When they were out of earshot, Katel turned a wicked glare on her.

"Think yourself saved, do you?" His words were a heated breath. "I can replace them in two hours' time. Now that you've seen them, I suppose I must move a little faster than I'd planned. Just as well, I'd say." A brief and savage grin darted across his mouth. "It would be rude to keep you waiting overly long for your death."

Johanna stared at him in dread. Two hours? Did he mean to set the folk to rioting once more? Ach, but it would take longer than two hours for Mistress Alwyna to receive her message, reach the warehouse, and cart away the wheat.

If it was even there, and if she was ever warned to go.

Johanna refused to give way to these negative thoughts. It was hope that set her to seeking some way to stall her husband long enough for salvation to occur. One night's time was all she needed.

First things first. Katel would remember how her hatred of Rob had yesterday driven her to race into a maddened crowd. If she didn't now react angrily to having her name tied to his, Katel might suspect all was not as it had been.

"Tut," her husband replied, his smile glorious for having so tweaked her. "Why worry so over something we both know isn't true? I think me you should be glad I chose him as your lover. Better to stand at the gallows next to someone familiar than beside a stranger."

He reached out to open her cloak. Mock dismay creased his brow. "Why, Johanna, wherever have you been, all dressed up like some poor and unmarried maid? One might think you were trying to disguise yourself so you could go a-trysting with your lover," he whispered to her. "What other reason would a woman who usually dresses in finery have for such attire save sin, eh? You were frustrated this night. Your lover is locked out of your reach."

There was an odd vindictive pleasure in knowing how wrong he was, but since he was fishing for another reaction, she gave it to him. "The sooner they hang that bastard, the better for this town and me," she snapped, adding yet more mental apologies, then tried a jab of her own. "How can you do this to Peter?" This she made into a soft plea, a mother's prayer for her child.

Katel's eyes hardened. "What care I for him or his inheritance? I should give him the same as I got from your sire," he whispered, his ancient rage over the terms of her father's will getting the better of him. "Let him try to trade on the glory of Walter of Stanrudde's name with no coins to aid him, just as was done to me," he finished, his voice rising.

His words rang in the quiet room, echoing back to him. Katel started, sudden guilt appearing in the depths of his eyes as he frowned in confusion. Then he shook his head. "Nay, I have once succumbed to your manipulations. I'll do so no more. The fate I intend for you can only improve life for Peter. Once I am avenged, all will be as it should have been those many years ago. When I finally own the wealth your sire denied me, I will be able to rebuild my trade, creating wealth aplenty for Peter to inherit."

He turned his gaze on her once more, his eyes dark with recrimination at the doubt she'd caused in him. "Mayhap I have been too hasty in plotting your death, forgetting that my son might be injured by your passing. It was a mistake to remove you from that convent of yours. I think I shall return you."

A satisfied smile touched his mouth. He stepped away from the hearth and called out to the hiding men. "My wife and I are leaving. One of you fetch us mounts."

Johanna stared at his back in bewilderment, not quite certain what had happened. Had speaking of their son convinced him not to kill her? Or, did he simply mean to confine her so she could not interfere while he played out the last of his plot? A quirk of triumph followed this. Praise God!
My wife and I
he'd said. He was not sending her, he was riding with her!

She calculated the time it would take: three hours there at a gentle pace since Katel could do no better than that, then another three hours back. If the prioress was generous, she'd offer him a pallet in the stable so he might sleep out the remainder of the night. But even if he refused and rode directly back to Stanrudde, Katel wouldn't see the city's gates again until well after first light. She had done it!

No one appeared out of the shadows in answer to Katel's command. "What is this?" His voice rose in irritation. "Have you all gone suddenly deaf? Or are you too dense to decide among you who's to go?"

There was a shuffling in the darkness. As one, the group of them reappeared. They stood shoulder to shoulder just within reach of the fire's light. It was Dickon who spoke on their behalf. "Master, you have not been yourself this night. We've agreed among us that we'll not let you do your wife any harm, no matter how you command us." His was a hesitant proclamation.

Johanna shot them a startled look at this offer of protection then willed them to withdraw it. She and Katel must ride out of Stanrudde. A flash of rage shot across Katel's fleshy features at so unexpected a challenge. This was followed by a mummer's mask of consternation.

"My pardon to you all," he replied, then sighed. "I know I have behaved oddly this even. It's these threats the populace make against me and my family, but fie on you for thinking I would hurt my wife. When have I ever struck her?"

He paused, bending a wounded gaze on each man. They all shifted as they acknowledged their master had never once abused their mistress, at least not with his fists. Only then did Katel continue. "Nay, the only reason I call for mounts is that I would return her to her convent. There will she be safe, far from the reach of this town's madmen."

Johanna watched the menservants relax at this. In their minds the convent was a sensible place to put her, whether they thought they were protecting her from the rioters or from her husband.

Katel waited a moment then delivered to them their punishment for daring to confront him. "Since you men are so concerned for my wife's safety, you'd best come with us. I know how upset you'd be were some rogue knight or daring thief to attack us on the road."

There were tired sighs and quiet groans at the thought of a night spent in the saddle. "Master," one of them said in an attempt at rescuing himself, "you spoke earlier as if Stanrudde's troubles were ended. There may be no need to cloister your wife."

"Would that this was true," Katel replied with a wistful sigh. The barest hint of cruelty gleamed in his eyes. "However as long as the council as a whole refuses to hang that man, I fear there will be no controlling the crowd."

Johanna heard the promise in his words. Once he was returned from her convent, he meant to see the missives replaced then rouse the mob. If Mistress Alwyna had not received word, Rob would die on the morrow.

This set her heart to aching all over again. She wanted more than just a single kiss between them before they were forever parted in this life. Would that she and Rob could escape to some far-off place to live as man and wife.

Johanna nigh on jerked, so hard did the realization strike her. If Elyas succeeded, if Wymar went, if Mistress Alwyna found the grain, it would be Katel who hanged. She'd be a widow!

The worry in her ebbed beneath the rising tide of joy. Once Katel was dead Rob would come to fetch her home. She knew to the depths of her soul, he'd ask her to wed him. This time, there'd be no one to say them nay.

"Master," tried another, "it is full dark outside. Should we not wait until morn's light?"

"God will guide us, His moon giving us the light we need," came Katel's sanctimonious reply. "Enough complaining. Ready yourselves. Against the possibility of attack we'll go as a group to the stables as soon as I am dressed." He glanced across their number. "Where's Syward?"

"The privy, master," Dickon humbly replied.

"Then he'll be the one to stay behind and guard our door." Katel caught Johanna by the arm. As he started for the bedchamber he pulled her along beside him. Wanting nothing to dissuade her husband from his current path, she walked happily at his side, her thoughts on a far more pleasant future.

As her husband stopped to claim her lamp from atop the brass-bound coffer, he shot her a harsh glance. "They babble like babes, but you make no protest?"

Johanna shrugged. "What is there to protest? You are only taking me to where I wish to be."

Only when Katel continued to stare at her did she realize her mistake. Yesterday's woman would have spit and hissed, simply because her husband was forcing her to do what she did not wish to do. It was too late now to do anything save to raise her chin and stare down at the shorter man.

Katel's brows rose, his smile beautiful as he devised some awful trick to use against her. "I am so glad you feel that way," he said, "for you will be there a very long time."

"What do you mean?" Johanna retorted, trying for some of her old harshness.

"When the prioress sees you with your hair uncovered and wearing these worn gowns, she will be convinced of your sin. I will tell her that only this very night did I discover that you had been committing adultery each time I departed Stanrudde for the fairs," her husband said, his voice sweet as he spun his plot aloud for her. "I shall cry in fear for you, telling her how your lover demanded that you leave me to live with him in sin. When you refused, he did you this damage." He raised a hand and touched a finger to one of the bruises on her face. "He is a violent man, your paramour. A great brute."

"What nonsense," Johanna retorted in scorn. "The lady prioress is no fool. Do you think I will remain silent over my attack? While you might be able to convince her that I have sinned in the past, she'll not believe that any lover beat me."

"You're right," Katel agreed all too quickly, "but then, that isn't my true intent. I need her to offer you sanctuary, not as a retiree, but as a sister. Thus, by subtle means, I will reveal to her that were I to ever hit you, those properties of yours go to Stanrudde's abbey. At the end of the interview, she will think it is I who have beaten you and that you concoct the tale of an attack in order to keep your child from losing his inheritance."

"What?" Johanna cried out. "I have no calling and so I will say."

"While this may be true," Katel said, shaking his head, "it does not really matter. On the morrow the world will believe you a heinous criminal. If the prioress has offered you sanctuary, you will have the choice between the hangman's noose and taking your vows. I suggest for our dear Peter's sake that you choose sisterhood. You can then dedicate the remainder of your days to praying for your son. He'll be needing all the heavenly aid he can muster, for who knows what I will leave him."

With that, Katel shoved her into their private chamber ahead of him then released her. "Up, one of you," he called to the maidservants who were pretending sleep on the floor. "I want my finest traveling gown, the orange and blue, my boots, and my warmest cloak. Bring also the thickest of my chains and my rings, along with my better gloves. I have a prioress to bend to my will!"

Johanna waited until he turned his back to her then closed her eyes. It wasn't clemency she'd bought by mentioning their son, it was a stay of execution followed by a lifetime's imprisonment.

Nay, she refused to believe it. Katel would be exposed, and when he had been, Rob would come for her. Rob loved her. He would not leave her trapped and alone, not a second time.