Infamous (9 page)

Jory went back upstairs. Her head had begun to ache and she lay down quietly on her bed, determined to ban all thoughts of rejection. She pretended sleep when Eleanor arose and dressed, and she sighed deeply when she heard the chamber door close.

Half an hour later, Eleanor returned. “Jory, thank heaven you are awake. Joanna is asking for you. She doesn't want anyone else.” Eleanor lowered her voice. “I think she's ill.”

Jory jumped up from the bed, her own plight momentarily forgotten. She encountered Blanche Bedford in the hall outside Joanna's chamber. “She has refused her breakfast. She won't even let me go in there. All she wants is you.”

“Thank you, Blanche. I'll find out if anything's wrong.”

Joanna was sitting on the edge of her wide bed; a grayish pallor had replaced her usual high color. “Jory, I've been sick.” She indicated the chamber pot, now covered with its fancy lid.

“Do you feel ill?” Jory went to the bed and put her hand on Joanna's forehead to see if she was fevered. “You're not hot.” The princess enjoyed good health and was never ill. “Perhaps you had something last night that upset your stomach.”

“I was sick yesterday morning, too, after Gilbert left,” she whispered. “I think it's morning sickness.”

“Oh, Joanna, do you think it possible? It's so soon.”

Joanna took Jory's hand and clung to it tightly. “What if it isn't…Oh God, what am I saying? Of course it's Gilbert's!”

Jory shivered and her arms became covered with gooseflesh. “Stop, Joanna. You are being fanciful. Stay still until the nausea passes. I'll get rid of this. No one else needs to know.”

“Thank you, Jory. What the hell am I going to do without you?”

 

Joanna continued with her morning sickness and her menstrual flow was late. The two friends concluded that the Countess of Gloucester was indeed with child. The pair of conspirators had an unspoken understanding that the child was Gilbert de Clare's. “I don't want anyone to know until the first month has passed. I hope I can count on you, Jory, to keep my secret.”

“My lips are sealed. You alone will decide the time to reveal your wonderful news.” Jory took a deep breath. “I have a secret of my own that I don't want to share with anyone but you.” She lowered her voice. “Warwick didn't offer for me yet. It was the Constable who made the offer for me on behalf of his son.”

“De Bohun?” Joanna's face blanched.

“Yes, they want me to marry Humphrey de Bohun.”

Color came back into Joanna's face. “Well, he's certainly a tall, attractive young noble. Most ladies would be ecstatic.”

“But he's not Warwick,” Jory whispered miserably.

“Dearest Jory, do you really wish to marry a man rumored to have caused the death of, not one, but
two
wives?”

She answered silently,
Yes. I'm hopelessly in love with Guy de Beauchamp, in spite of all the rumors.

“I don't give a fig about his reputation,” she defended. “If he offers for me, I shall accept. I've quite made up my mind.”

That night when Gilbert de Clare returned from Westminster, he sought a private word with Jory. “Lady Marjory, it seems my friend returned to Warwickshire two days ago. I immediately forwarded your letter by courier along with one of my own. He should receive it by tomorrow.”

Jory's mouth went dry. She licked her lips. “Thank you, my lord earl. That was most kind.”

Hope refused to die.
When Guy learns that Humphrey de Bohun has offered for me, he will contact my guardian immediately.

 

Two days later when Jory was again summoned to Westminster, her heart lifted with incurable anticipation. She firmly pushed all doubts away, resolutely refusing to acknowledge any uncertainty.

Only when she was face-to-face with her uncle and heard his words, did hope begin to drain away.

“Jory, my dear child, I am afraid you must accept the truth and put away your daydreams. Guy de Beauchamp abandoned Parliament a week ago and returned to Warwickshire. Believe me when I tell you there is no chance that you will become the Countess of Warwick.”

The word
abandoned
echoed in her head. The thought of rejection was too devastating to contemplate. She stared straight ahead, her face a cool mask, determined to display no emotion.

“Marjory, Lynx and I are going to France to fight a war. It is our responsibility to get you safely settled before we depart.”

Her heart contracted.
I hate being my brother's responsibility.

“Both of us are convinced the match with Humphrey de Bohun is right for you in every way. The Earl of Hereford would be like a father to you, and his son will make an honorable husband. Can I tell them that you accept?”

“No! No. I don't even know Humphrey de Bohun!”

“That can soon be remedied. I'll tell you what—Parliament should be over tomorrow, so why don't you stay at Westminster for a couple of days so you can get to know him better? If you are still adamantly opposed to de Bohun, I'll give him your regrets.”

“I don't believe…I need time to think…I'm going back to Clerkenwell.” Jory saw the sharp disappointment in his face. “I promise I will consider what you suggest, Uncle John, but please don't be upset if I cannot bring myself to do it.”

When Jory got back to the Gloucester mansion, the first person she encountered was Blanche Bedford.

“Marjory, I'm so happy for you. Eleanor told me you had received an offer of marriage. How excited you must be.”

“I…I haven't accepted any offer yet. Please don't say anything to the others.”

Blanche giggled. “They all know, Jory.”

As Jory tried to hurry past the luxurious sitting room on her way to the stairs, Joanna called her name. “Jory, come join us.”

She took a deep breath and entered the lovely chamber. She sent a cool look in the direction of Eleanor de Leyburn, thinking she was the one who had told them she had had an offer.

Maud Clifford clapped her hands together with delight. “Congratulations on your coming marriage to Humphrey de Bohun, Marjory. Someday you will be the Countess of Hereford!”

Jory's accusing glance fell on Joanna. She was the only one who knew the offer had come from de Bohun.
Damn you, Joanna! You knew that was confidential between the two of us. I would never break your trust, no matter how scandalously you have behaved.
Jory quickly protested. “I haven't agreed to the match.”

“But you
will
,” Joanna said with emphasis. “Just think how close we will be to each other when I go to Gloucester and you go to Hereford. They are only a few miles apart. We can be wives and mothers together, Jory, when our men go off to war. Becoming part of the constable's family is a high honor, and I know the king will thoroughly approve that the de Warennes and the de Bohuns will be bound by blood.”

“Oh, Jory, I envy you so much. The constable's sons are extremely tall and handsome, and fair haired like you.” Maude Clifford sighed deeply.

“Indeed they are,” drawled Joanna. “Young too. To find fault with such a match would brand you a spoiled, ungrateful wretch.”

Jory's heart sank.
I realize I am spoiled, as we all are here, but I don't want my brother and my uncle to think me ungrateful.

“Leave us. I'd like a private word with Jory.” Joanna waited until her other ladies withdrew. “You're angry with me.”

“How could you? You know I love Warwick.”

“If they learned such a thing they would think you daft in the head…or worse, they would pity you. You must accept the fact that Warwick didn't offer for you, Jory. I was given no choice. What makes you think your case will be any different?”

Jory swallowed the lump in her throat and lifted her chin.

T
he dining hall at Westminster was not overcrowded when Jory arrived. Many of the earls and barons had left to ready their men to fight in France or quell the trouble brewing in Wales.

She watched as the newlyweds were seated on the dais with the king.
I warrant he invited Joanna and Gilbert so he could gauge how his daughter is adjusting to marriage.
Jory saw that the Earl of Hereford was seated next to her uncle.

Jory took a seat next to Lynx and his wife, just below the dais. She blushed slightly when she saw that the de Bohun brothers were across the table from them. Her nerves were taut, because the moment the dinner was over she intended to approach the Earl of Hereford and, in the gentlest way possible, tell him she could not marry his son Humphrey.

At last the interminable meal was over and as the servants began to clear the tables and everyone stood to mingle about, Jory steeled herself to approach John de Bohun up on the dais. She curtsied gracefully to King Edward, then turned to speak to the constable. “May I speak with you privately, my lord earl?”

Hereford beamed at her. “Lady Marjory, my heart overflows with happiness and pride that you have consented to marry my son Humphrey. I pledge that you will be like a beloved daughter to me.” His great arms enfolded her and he kissed her on each cheek.

Jory's mouth opened in astonishment, but nothing came out. She was absolutely speechless.

King Edward, who had overheard John de Bohun's triumphant declaration took both her hands and bestowed a royal kiss upon her. “Lady Marjory, this match pleases me as much as the one between my daughter and Gloucester.” The king turned to John de Warenne. “I congratulate you, Surrey. Strong blood bonds between our noble families can only strengthen England.”

“Your Majesty…please,” Jory murmured through bloodless lips.

Edward Plantagenet held up his arms and called for silence. “Humphrey de Bohun, come up to the dais,” he ordered.

The tall blond knight strode forward without hesitation, climbed onto the dais, and stood proudly beside the king. Jory wished she could vanish into thin air.

“It is my great honor and my deep pleasure to announce that a marriage has been arranged between Marjory de Warenne and Humphrey de Bohun, son and heir of the Earl of Hereford.”

As a great cheer went up, Edward looked down at the small female who looked far too pale and vulnerable. “Your father would be very happy this night, Lady Marjory. He served me well and was taken from us far too soon. My dearest child, I know the de Bohun family will cherish you.” The king took Jory's hand and placed it in Humphrey's. “A toast to the happy couple!”

Joanna stepped forward and thrust her own goblet of wine into Jory's free hand. “You are as pale as death. Drink up. There is nothing you can do…It is a fait accompli.”

Jory's hand trembled as she lifted the cup to her lips and quaffed deeply. Joanna congratulated Humphrey, and his fair skin flushed red. Jory saw and, not for the first time, wondered if he was infatuated with the king's daughter.
Perhaps Humphrey too is being coerced into this marriage.
As she looked up at him, she saw that the bridge of his nose was covered with freckles.
He is impossibly young and boyish compared with Warwick!

Jory looked at the people below the dais, all drinking a toast to her happiness. Then she saw Lynx. His face had a gaunt, haunted look, as if the heavy responsibility for her future happiness lay on his shoulders alone. Jory's heart went out to him.
He was far too young when Father died. He had no chance to be a boy…He had to become a man, burdened by a baby sister.
She turned away quickly before her brother saw tears flood her eyes.

She became aware that her uncle John was watching her and her eyes glittered green through her tears.
You are the one who told de Bohun I accepted the proposal, and you don't even have the decency to look guilty about your lie!

Jory wanted to rush over and fly at him. Though frustration almost choked her, she knew she would have to wait until she and her guardian were private before she could protest.

Everyone crowded round, congratulating the groom, wishing the misty-eyed bride happiness, and asking the date of the wedding.

“The wedding hasn't been settled yet,” she protested firmly, but everyone took that to mean the
date
had not been settled.

“Lady Marjory cannot delay the nuptials too long, under the circumstances,” Humphrey declared.

“What circumstances?” Jory demanded.

He looked down at her uncertainly. “War,” he murmured.

Dear God, how can someone so young be sent to war?
Her own plight receded as she considered Humphrey's. She heard the echo of Guy de Beauchamp's words:
War is bloody, brutal; the enemy is vicious.
Jory's anger flared anew, bringing color back to her cheeks.
War is the reason I never knew my father!

Her brother enfolded her in his powerful arms and she pressed her face against his heart. “Lynx, I don't want you to go to war.”

He tightened his embrace. “It's my duty, Minx. It won't be my first war; nor will it be my last,” he said cheerfully.

She looked up at him aghast. “How can you be so nonchalant?”

“You are too emotional and vulnerable tonight, Jory. You must believe with all your heart that I will return. How can I believe myself invincible, if you have doubts?”

“I swear to you I have no doubts about you,” she assured him passionately. “My doubts are for myself,” she whispered.

I cannot fill his ears with my woes; he has enough on his plate
. She swallowed her despair and gave him a radiant smile.

She saw that Humphrey was being toasted by his brother, and she quickly sought out Joanna. “How soon will we be leaving?”

“We are sleeping at Westminster, Jory. I think tonight will be an opportune time to tell Gilbert my news. He will tell Father, and tomorrow I shall be the center of attention. If I ask the pair of them for the moon, they will likely give it to me.”

Face it, Jory…there is no escape tonight…no escape ever.
She felt forlorn and helpless. Then suddenly she lost patience with herself.
Stop wallowing in self-pity, for God's sake!

She pasted a smile on her face, accepted the wine she was offered, and silently prayed for the evening to end. When it was at last time to leave she bade Humphrey good night and took her uncle's arm. “We need to talk,” she said through clenched teeth.

The palace steward gave them directions to the chamber that had been plenished for Lady Marjory, and they walked side by side in total silence until they were inside and the door was closed.

Jory withdrew her arm and set her hands to her hips. “I did
not
consent to marry Humphrey de Bohun!”

John spread his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “De Bohun offered to deed Midhurst Castle in Sussex to Humphrey and thus to the firstborn child of your union. Lynx said:
It is an excellent match. We will inform Lady Marjory of your offer, and feel confident she will happily assent to the union.
The de Bohuns obviously took it for granted that you had accepted their offer.”

“You will have to disabuse them of their assumption when you receive the offer from Warwick!”

“And when will that be, my dear?”

“I sent Guy a letter warning him that de Bohun had made an offer for me.”

“And what was his reply, Jory?”

She bit her lip and did not answer.

“Exactly,” John said quietly.

Why did you not answer my cry for help, Guy?

“You promised you'd consider getting to know Humphrey.”

“
Consider!
Do you know the meaning of that word? It means that I will think about it! Instead, the de Bohuns
consider
me Humphrey's bride, King Edward
considers
me Humphrey's bride, and even my own family
considers
me Humphrey's bride.”

“Jory, my dear, you have every right to be angry. But not at the people who love you. Your anger should be directed at Warwick. You are not the first woman to suffer at his hands.”

“Stop! I will not listen while you catalog his infamy.” She laughed, but there was little mirth in it. “Uncle, I am quite aware you think I am making a fool of myself. Indulge me.”

“Lynx and I have always indulged you, Marjory.”

She suddenly felt very spoiled and demanding.

“Jory, I'll make a bargain with you. If Warwick does not offer for you in the next week, you will let the engagement stand. Shortly, we go to France to fight a war. I want you safely settled as a wife. I don't want you to be left a lonely spinster. Humphrey isn't the villain here, Jory. Cast me in the role if you must, but not Humphrey de Bohun. He is an earnest young knight who does not deserve to be treated shabbily.”

A feeling of guilt assailed her. For the first time, she noticed that her uncle looked tired. Jory took a calming breath. “May I sleep on the matter and give you my decision tomorrow?”

“Of course, my dear. I have always found it impossible to refuse aught that you ask of me.”

Yes, I have always gotten my own way. Until now.
The thought added to her guilt. “Good night, Uncle.”

 

Jory lay abed, wide-awake. Her mind went over everything since the moment she had laid eyes on Guy de Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick. Her heart ached for him and her body lusted for him. After many hours of tantalizing herself, she could taste him and smell him. Yet her longing was tinged with an anguished poignancy. Deep down in her soul she feared that she had been rejected. He did not love her…His offer would never come.

Just before dawn she fell into an exhausted sleep and a man dressed in armor came to her. When he removed his helm and his tawny mane of hair fell to his shoulders, she thought it was Lynx. Then she realized it was her father, Lincoln de Warenne.

“My own sweet Jory.” He gently stroked her hair. “Silver-gilt tresses.” He smiled into her eyes. “You have made me very happy tonight. The de Bohun family will cherish you as a daughter.”

“But, Father, the Earl of Warwick proposed to me.”

“Dearest Jory, do you really wish to marry a man rumored to have caused the death of, not one, but
two
wives?”

“Are the rumors true, Father?” she pleaded.

The vision of the man in armor began to fade.

“Don't go. Please don't leave me!”

Jory awoke with a start. The first shadowy light of dawn was stealing into the chamber and for a moment she was disoriented. Slowly, she remembered where she was and details of her dream. Her father wanted her to wed Humphrey and was against Warwick.

Did my mind create the dream or did Father really come to me?
Jory was unsure. Many people believed in visions and portents.

She drew up her legs, wrapped her arms about them, and rested her head on her knees. Portents aside, it was time to face facts. Warwick would not offer for her. His silence told her louder than any words that he had rejected her.
Damn him to hellfire!

What John had said was the truth. Humphrey de Bohun was not the villain. He was an earnest young knight who did not deserve her shabby treatment.

Warwick has blinded me to all other males.
She knew she must eradicate him from her mind and resolved to do so, starting today. Slowly, she slipped the emerald ring from her finger and put it away. She would not even attempt to disroot him from her heart—the infamous earl with the lethal French charm was there to stay.

Jory dressed and made her way to her guardian's chamber. “I've come to tell you I am ready to get to know Humphrey de Bohun.”

“Jory, my dearest, you are doing the sensible thing.”

Sensible, yes.
“If we clash I will tell you outright that I will not marry him. Otherwise I'll be amenable to the match.”

John nodded in agreement. “Fair enough, Jory.”

She wanted to scream that life was decidedly
unfair
, but the new Jory held her tongue. She would behave in a mature manner and, in truth, she already felt older and wiser. She had learned the hard way that when a man made passionate promises and then betrayed you, it left you feeling jaded and brittle.

 

Westminster's Great Hall was abuzz with the news of the expected royal babe. A grandchild for the king and, if the gods smiled on Joanna, she would produce a son and heir for Gloucester. Not only Gilbert, but Edward too exuded male pride today.