Juliana Garnett (36 page)

“Yea, if the king threatens fines and reprisal.” Her eyes searched his face anxiously. “Do you not believe the king will do it?”

“I don’t know.” He took another deep breath and looked around him. For the first time since entering, he studied the chamber they had been given. It was not large, but elegantly appointed. In a castle filled to the bursting with retainers, it struck him as unusual that Annice would have a chamber of her own. “This is the chamber where you’ve stayed?” he asked in surprise.

She shook her head. “Nay, I stayed in the women’s quarters. I suppose the king means for us to be alone to—talk.” Her last word was said wryly, for ’twas apparent that John had been delighted at the prospect that Rolf might lesson his wife with a belt or a harsh hand. If she was as some other women he’d known, she would then have turned to the king begging sympathy. Which John would have been only too glad to offer if it meant the lady yielding to him.

Rolf held her hands and continued his appraisal of the room. There was a bed hung with thick curtains bearing the royal emblem, a table, stools, candle stands, and carpets. The walls were ornate with carvings and embroidered tapestries
that shifted slightly in errant drafts. Suddenly he frowned.

There was something out of place. Something a little bit different that had caught his eye, yet he could not immediately place it. His gaze raked the chamber again, while Annice pressed close to him with her face against his chest. Then he saw it, and knew.

He warned her to silence with a shake of his head, then led her to the bed across the room. Heedless of his muddy garments, he sat down heavily. When she turned to him, mouth open to speak, he shook his head and pointed. She turned slowly to see where he indicated.

Square wood medallions decorated one wall, some painted and some varnished. The painted squares had starburst centers, and in the center of one of them, a tiny hole glimmered with a different sheen. ’Twas a spy hole. Rolf had recognized it, for he was familiar with John’s methods.

While seated beneath the bed’s silk hangings, the angle would be difficult for anyone at the hole to see them, but they would be easily heard. If there was one spy hole, he reasoned, there would be more.

Annice looked at him uncertainly; then her face flushed with indignation. He smiled slightly as he saw she understood. Leaning close to press his lips against her ear, he murmured, “We must watch what we say. Speak in English, but even then be careful, for there are those in John’s court who have a command of both languages. I trust no one, and neither must you. Later, when there are no ears about to hear, I will explain more fully.”

He drew back. A faint smile curved her mouth, and her eyes began to take on the gleam he had seen before and knew to presage some mischief. Before he could protest, she drew his head back down and said against his ear, “Since the king expects you to be angry with me—and in truth, I know you have a right to be—p’raps we should do what is expected. It may take him off guard and would explain our lack of easy conversation with each other. How better to draw those eager to divide us even more? There would be whispers in your ear and mine, and if thought to fall on fertile
ground, many seeds may be sown that would not normally be.…”

He saw the sense in it immediately. If they appeared estranged, it might serve their cause better. It would certainly serve to explain his failure to be drawn eagerly into the king’s camp, and might even be seen as cause to leave court as soon as possible. A smile tugged at his mouth and he nodded slowly.

“Yea,” he whispered, “I take your meaning. But are you not afeared that I will grow overfond of the notion and truly beat you most heartily?”

Her hands curled around his arms, and she said simply, “I trust you to do what is right, milord.”

That simple statement made him almost ashamed of the suspicions he’d felt earlier. He looked away, then back at her. After a moment he rose to his feet and began to unbuckle his belt. Annice smothered a laugh with one hand and reached for a cushioning pillow to hold over her body with the other. Then she scooted deep into the shadowed folds of the curtained bed and he followed, uttering reprimands and loud threats that he would beat her until she was black-and-blue.

The sounds of blows falling against the pillow were loud and satisfactory, and in truth, released much of his anger toward her. Anyone listening outside the chamber would certainly report to the king and all who were curious that the Lord of Dragonwyck had beat his errant wife most harshly.

In the following days Annice found it quite easy to play the part of the chastised wife. She kept her head bent and her eyes lowered, and was relieved that after only a few murmurs of sympathy, the king left her quite alone.

For a short time it seemed as if their ploy had worked. Gossip was whispered in their ears most willingly, telling tales of the king’s activities and suspicions. Few were not suspect of treason. John sent letters to the pope, it was said, and gathered money to hire mercenaries, as he did not trust his barons to provide loyal men. And the barons, it was also
said, armed themselves in their distant keeps with men and horses.

Rolf held himself aloof from those who would seek to draw him into intrigues. He glowered savagely, snarling at any who dared speak, save, of course, the king.

Meanwhile John watched them thoughtfully, and Annice wondered just how much of their masquerade he truly believed. Enough, she discovered, for John to offer a return of her dower lands from Lord Thurston. Casting a sly glance toward Rolf, the king murmured that he could not accept so grand a gift from the lady as her lands, even though they were freely offered.

Stiffening, Rolf gave her a quick, narrowed glance that made her wish she’d told him of it before the king had. He gave no outward sign, however, but smoothly voiced his acceptance of the king’s generosity. No mention was made of Justin, and Annice worried that the king would refuse her petition for the boy’s return.

“Is there anything else you haven’t told me?” Rolf demanded when they were alone, and Annice drew in a deep breath.

“Nay, lord. ’Tis true that I offered to exchange my dower lands for your son, but I feared you would not allow it if I told you.”

“You were right.” Curling his hand into a fist, Rolf raked his knuckles over a rough stone with frustration. “There is a limit to what I will use to bargain with John.” He turned on her, eyes a hot, glittering green in the wash of sunlight through a high window. “Do not think to offer the king another
gift
, milady. Not even for my son. Not even for my life. Do you mark me?”

“Yea, lord,” she whispered. “I mark you well.”

Time passed swiftly, and the proper documents were written, signed, and sealed, then sent to Seabrook with a small contingent of men-at-arms.

Yet still John continued to delay ordering the return of Rolf’s son. That, the king said smoothly, was still under consideration.

Rolf sent home most of his men to protect Dragonwyck, anticipating Thurston’s reaction after receiving the king’s letters.
Sir Guy was sent to warn the castellans of Rolf’s other holdings as well.

Christmas was spent with the king at Worcester. Still there was no sign of their being allowed to return to Dragonwyck. John delayed, asking Rolf’s advice on military matters and repeating his pleasure in having him near.

“We never know when we may need our loyal barons close,” John said, and his dark gaze fixed on Rolf’s face so intently that Annice felt a spur of fear. Did he think Rolf would betray him? Or did he mean to ask something dreadful of him? Either was likely.

Yet the king did not, but merely continued to keep those around him in a terror of suspense throughout the Christmas season. If the king knew of the charter being proposed by the barons, he did not reveal it. But it became known that John had been at Bury Saint Edmunds on November 4, only a short time before the barons’ meeting. It seemed very likely that the king was aware of everything, including the names of the men who had attended.

That fact became evident two days after Christmas, when the king moved from Worcester to Tewkesbury. He planned to stay there only a few days, then move on to Geddington and back to London by Epiphany. Rolf was invited to remain with the king. This time Rolf refused.

Annice listened fearfully as the king inquired icily why his loyal baron did not wish to remain with him.

“
Beau
sire,” Rolf said slowly, eyes fixed steadily on the king’s sullen, suspicious face, “my main keep is long overdue my presence. I have been at court too long, and my castellan sends urgent messages for my return. And at your good grace, I have been seisined of more properties that require my earnest attention. While I am most grateful for your kindness, and humbled by your royal regard in wishing me near, I beg leave to see to my necessary business. Should I be gone too long, it leaves my keeps in danger of being overtaken by rebels. Lincolnshire is in a most uncertain state, as you are fully aware, sire, and I would not wish to have to beg for relief from assault.”

“Well-spoken, Lord Dragonwyck.” John gave him a petulant
stare that belied his compliment. “ ’Twould seem that you have prepared your plea most thoroughly.”

Rolf bowed his head, and Annice saw the muscles in his jaw tense. He dared not reply hastily, for the wrong word risked John’s erratic Angevin temper. After a moment Rolf looked up at his king, green eyes veiled by his lashes, a faint smile curving his mouth.

“A man should never be unprepared when dealing with a royal monarch of your considerable perception,
beau
sire. I would be a fool indeed were I to ask anything of you without due thought.”

“Yea, but men are still fools enough to think I am dull-witted,” John replied shortly. He toyed with the gold-encrusted trim on his robe, then smiled slightly. “Tell me, dread knight, of what do you hear from your brother in Cheshire?”

Here it was. Rolf had told her not to dismiss any chance word of the king’s, and John’s referral to Rolf’s father and family loyalties the first day had finally borne fruit. Now the king was questioning the loyalty of his brothers.

Shrugging, Rolf said calmly, “My brother Geoffrey has always been the king’s man. As you must know, sire, we do not communicate frequently, though if I summoned him, he would come to my aid.”

“Would he?” John shifted slightly, eyes narrowing at his liege man. “And would he come to mine, do you think?”

“Has he given any sign that he would not?”

“Nay, but his lands closely border Wales. Word has come to me that the Welsh chieftain Griffyn ap Llewelyn traffics with barons known to be loyal to me.”

“As Llewelyn traffics with you also, sire. He is crafty, as are most of the Welsh, but has given you his oath of loyalty.”

“So you swear that your brother Geoffrey is loyal to me?”

Rolf hesitated. If he said yea, he might be held accountable for his brother if Geoffrey joined the rebels; but if he said nay, then he might be held responsible for the king’s anger toward his brother.

“Sire,” he said firmly, “I can swear to no man’s loyalty but my own. Each man is accountable for his own oaths, and I would not presume to know another man’s heart.”

After a moment John snorted and said nastily, “Ever a facile tongue, Lord Rolf. You remind me more of your father with every passing day.”

Rolf made no reply. After a moment of tense silence the king dismissed him with a wave of one hand. “Go now to your lands, but we shall expect your estates to be honestly levied and those fines remitted promptly.”

Annice released the breath she had been holding, her lungs aching from the strain. They were free to go, though John was making Rolf pay dearly for the privilege.

She took another deep breath and stepped forward before she lost her courage. “Sire, I beg an answer to the request I first made when I arrived at your court. If you would be so good as to grant my plea to have my husband’s son returned to us, God would surely smile upon you with His greatest favor.”

Rolf made a muffled sound, but she kept her gaze trained on the king. John was regarding her with a dark, lifted brow, his eyes cold and narrowed. He drummed his fingertips against the carved arm of his throne for a moment, then leaned forward.

“Do you not think I am already blessed, Lady Annice? Surely, no other man in the realm has as much as do I. Loyal barons and lovely ladies surround me at all times. My children are strong and healthy, and my kingdom tended by wise and noble men.” His mouth curled in a malicious smile. “Save for those barons who tend to desert me when most needed, I am the most fortunate of men in England.”

“Yea, sire,” she managed to say in a voice that did not betray her tension. “And as you have just said—your children are strong and healthy. My husband—who has proved himself loyal to you—does not have the same assurance. He but wishes to ascertain himself of his son’s safety and good health. In Lord Seabrook’s care, that is not a definite state.”

“Are you suggesting that Seabrook would defy me so openly?” John lifted a hand in a languid motion. “Lord Thurston is not brave enough to dare that. I have written him, as I promised you I would. You have your dower lands, and the monies that come with them. Go now, before my patience wears thin. All of England stands in danger,
which is more important to me than the fate of a small boy.” He paused when Rolf took a step forward, then shrugged. “Your son is well, Lord of Dragonwyck. You must accept my assurances on that score for now. He will continue to be well as long as you are my loyal baron.”

Crushed with disappointment, Annice barely heard Rolf’s reply to the king. All for naught. Her frightening journey, the weeks spent dancing attendance on the king—all for naught. She had failed, when she had been so certain of victory.

“
Chérie
,” Rolf murmured when they were alone in the corridor, “do not despair. In truth, I did not expect much from John. He holds my loyalty by holding Justin, with Thurston as the guardian. It binds both Seabrook and myself to John. I do not blame you and am proud of you for your attempt.”