Love Everlasting (37 page)

“You are the hero who arrived in time to save
us all,” she reminded him. When the noise had quieted and they sat
down again, she asked, “Royce, if you stay at Wortham, what about
your work for King Henry?”

“Cadwallon can carry on for me, for a few
months at least,” he said. “So can Braedon, if he’s needed. The two
of them get on well together and they can always call on me.”

The guests were to depart on the morrow. They
would leave together and separate along the road. Arden was
returning to Bowen Manor, and Cadwallon and Braedon were heading
for court, taking Kenric and the other captives with them.

“Between us, Braedon and I have enough
men-at-arms to keep them all secure,” Cadwallon assured Royce as
the celebration drew to an end and the great hall began to empty.
“They will not escape King Henry’s justice. Now, what are we going
to do about Michael? After his daring ride to Northampton, he has
convinced himself that he’s fully recovered from his old injuries.
He was a fine secret agent once, and he wants to return to the
work. Will you release him from his personal service to you?”

“If you can locate another good secretary, I
will let Michael go as soon as the new man settles into Wortham,”
Royce said. “I’ll miss him, but I know he’s growing restless.”

“I’m sure I can find a trustworthy cleric,”
Cadwallon said. “You may depend on me. Now, Royce, isn’t it time
for you to cease trying to repair all of Wortham in one day?”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Royce
said, his gaze on Julianna.

“If you want the advice of an old married
man,” Cadwallon said, his own gaze following the direction of
Royce’s interest, “be honest with her. But first, be completely
honest with yourself.”

“My personal affairs are not your concern!”
When Royce whirled to confront his friend face to face over such
effrontery, Cadwallon grinned, lifted both his hands in a
deprecating gesture, and walked away.

The woman to whom Julianna had been speaking
had also departed. She stood alone, looking wistful. Royce went to
her and bowed.

“Will you join me in the lord’s chamber?” he
asked. Seeing the fear that suddenly altered her expression, he
added, “It’s time for us to talk.”

“Past time, my lord.”

He wondered what she meant by that. With
Julianna, he never could be certain. He knew what he intended to
learn from her, though, and he would accept no half truths or
evasions. He motioned for her to precede him up the steps.

“You do seem to have settled everything at
Wortham to your satisfaction, my lord,” she said as soon as the
door of the lord’s chamber was closed and bolted.

“Not everything,” he told her. “There remains
the matter of my marriage.”

At his words Julianna went completely still,
staring at him.

Royce had departed from Northampton in such
haste that he had left his own bed behind. So it was Julianna’s
bed, covered and curtained with fine blue wool that loomed in the
evening shadows. He ached to lift Julianna into his arms and carry
her there, and on the linen sheets beneath the coverlet assuage his
never-ending need of her. But not yet.

Not yet, he reminded himself, not until he
had drained her of every last drop of the information he meant to
have.

“Are you dissatisfied with your marriage, my
lord?” Julianna asked very softly.

“I am most displeased by your continued
reticence,” he told her.

“My reticence on what subject?”

“Don’t play with me, Julianna. Once we swore
to be honest with each other. You have not kept that promise.”

“Have you kept your oath to me, my lord?”

“Not entirely,” he admitted. “I intend to do
so tonight, before we sleep. But first, I will have the truth from
you.”

“What truth is that, my lord?”

“Damnation, Julianna!” He took a deep breath
and lowered his voice. “My name is Royce. Use it. Cease this
insulting formality.”

“I beg your pardon,” she said in a humble
tone that made him grit his teeth in frustration.

Then she smiled at him, and Royce had to fold
his arms across his chest to prevent himself from wrapping them
around her.

“What do you want of me, Royce?”

“Everything,” he said, and closed his eyes
for a moment because everything was exactly what he wanted. He
wanted her heart, her intelligence, her beautiful body. And he
wanted her to offer all of herself freely, out of love. Nearly
choking on intense physical desire, he said, “I want to know about
your marriage to Deane of Craydon.”

To her credit, she didn’t smirk and ask if he
was jealous, which another, lesser, woman might have done. She
regarded him with great seriousness, though her eyes were dark with
some emotion that might have been fear.

“I suspect you know most of it,” she
said.

“Tell me,” he ordered. Then, more gently,
“Please, Julianna. I have a peculiar need to hear your
version.”

She didn’t argue, or protest, or turn away.
She faced him directly, her hands clasped at her waist, her eyes on
his face. Her voice was quiet, remaining oddly calm throughout her
revelations, and her very calmness lent the convincing strength of
absolute truth to what she said.

“I did not like Deane. I shuddered with
revulsion each time he touched me. Noblewomen, especially those
with large dowries, have little choice about their husbands. That
choice is usually made for them by others. My father expected
obedience from me, and I was well trained by the nuns who had
schooled me.”

“You were a widow,” Royce persisted. “Surely,
that gave you the right to say yes or no to a second marriage.”

“You never met my father. According to him,
no woman holds any rights at all. Royce, I told you most of this
when we were first married. Why do you want to go over the story
again?”

“Because I want to know about Deane,” Royce
said. “I want to know what kind of man he was, and about his
spying.”

“Long before I married him, he was pressed
into gathering information for King Louis of France,” she said.
“Deane told me it was my wifely duty to help him. Though I had been
married, widowed, and remarried, I was still innocent in many
ways.”

“Surely, it required no great experience on
your part to know that spying for King Louis against the interests
of King Henry was wrong,” Royce interrupted in exasperation.

“That’s true. I won’t deny my own complicity.
At first it was a small chore, just the delivery of a sealed
parchment to Kenric, and I told myself it didn’t matter, that it
was only a letter, so it couldn’t be anything of great importance.
Then he sent me to Kenric with a second delivery, and a third. So,
quickly and without much real thought on my part, I was drawn into
the intrigues that Deane and Kenric wove between them, until I was
so thoroughly enmeshed that I could see no way out of them.

“Next, Deane set me to collect information
from the court ladies, and he instructed me on the methods I was to
use. By then I knew how wrong it was, but I was caught in the web.
I feared for my life at Deane’s hands, or at Kenric’s. Most
frightening of all, I began to realize what King Henry’s people
would do to me if my deceptions were ever revealed.

“Years passed, and as Deane grew weaker from
his illness, Kenric assumed command of the information gathering,”
she continued. “Kenric began to issue orders to me, so I had to
contend with both of them.”

“Did Kenric ever make improper advances to
you?” Royce held his breath, not daring to think what he’d do to
Kenric if he had ever laid lustful hands on Julianna.

“No.” Julianna’s response was so simple and
straightforward that Royce could not doubt her. “Kenric despises me
almost as much as I hate him.”

“That doesn’t always prevent a man from
desiring a woman,” he said thoughtfully. “Hatred has been known to
fuel lust.”

“I don’t think Kenric ever considered me in
that way. I was always just a tool to him. He used to tell me how
ugly I am. Later, after you and I were married, he told me that you
didn’t want me, that no man could want me and you only wed me
because King Henry commanded it.”

“Go on with your story,” Royce said,
forbearing to make any comment about his desire for her. He refused
to be distracted.

“There isn’t much more to tell,” she said.
“As Deane grew weaker and weaker, I did more of his work and I
passed the information I gathered on to Kenric. I never acted
willingly, Royce, only out of fear of what Deane would do to me if
I failed to carry out his orders and, later, fear of Kenric. Once I
had begun spying for them, they used what I had already done to
threaten me with exposure if I did not continue.”

“That’s a pattern I’ve seen before,” Royce
said. “It’s not unusual.” He stared at her for so long that she
made a nervous gesture with one hand.

“What else do you want to know?” she
asked.

“I confess to a certain curiosity,” he said.
“Why did Deane begin spying in the first place? Long ago, in his
youth at the court of King William Rufus, he was counted as a loyal
and decent nobleman, if somewhat eccentric. What changed him?”

“Please, Royce, don’t ask me. Ask anything
but that.”

“Then, you do know.” He could not mistake the
fear he saw in her eyes.

“I won’t tell you,” she declared. “It’s
dangerous knowledge, and I refuse to put you into danger. I only
learned it after Deane and I had been married for years. When he
realized that I knew, he would have killed me if he hadn’t been too
weak and sick to do the deed, himself, and too frightened that I’d
tell what I knew before I died, if he ordered someone else to kill
me.”

“All the more reason that I should know what
it is,” Royce said. The thought of Julianna terrified for her very
life was almost too much for him to bear. He had to know the truth,
so he’d know how best to protect her.

“No,” she whispered, frightened yet
defiant.

“Julianna,” he said, taking the same course
that Deane had once taken with her, “you are my wife and,
therefore, you are obliged to obey my orders. I order you to tell
me what you know about Deane.”

She put her face in her hands and stood with
her head bowed for a few moments. Royce watched her closely, aching
to alleviate her fear, yet unwilling to speak until she responded.
At last she dropped her hands and looked directly at him, as she
had done at the beginning of his interrogation.

“Do you know how King Henry’s older brother
died?” she asked.

“King William Rufus?” Royce said. “Everyone
knows. He was shot by an arrow accidentally loosed from Wat Tyler’s
bow. It happened while they were hunting together in the New
Forest, more than twenty years ago.”

“It was no accident,” Julianna whispered, as
if she feared speaking the words in her full voice, lest they be
overheard. “And it wasn’t Wat Tyler who killed the king. It was
Deane of Craydon.”

“That cannot be right,” Royce declared with
some force. “The investigation that Henry ordered as soon as he
became king was long and exhaustive. Everyone agreed that King
William’s death was a tragic accident. I’ve never heard Deane’s
name mentioned in connection with it. As far as I know, he wasn’t
anywhere near the New Forest on that day.”

“He was there,” Julianna insisted. “Deane
hated King William Rufus. They had quarreled several times. The
king had a habit of confiscating the lands of men whom he disliked,
and Deane feared that Craydon would be taken away from him. So he
killed the king before William could issue a royal writ against
him.”

“This is preposterous,” Royce said. “It can’t
be true. Who told you this wild story?”

“Kenric told me. He said he’d had the
information from King Louis, himself, and that Louis was holding it
over Deane, to force him to continue his spying. Kenric used the
information for the same purpose. This explains much, doesn’t
it?”

“You knew this, and never said a word?” Royce
exclaimed. “Not to anyone?”

“I told Deane what I had learned. He
threatened that if I exposed him, he’d reveal every assignment that
I had ever undertaken for King Louis. My traitorous activities,
Deane called them. Never mind that I had acted only because he
commanded me.

“The saddest part of this story is that Deane
liked and admired King Henry,” Julianna continued. “He said Henry
was a much better king than William Rufus ever was. But still, he
spied against Henry’s interests. He couldn’t tell King Henry what
King Louis was making him do, or why. Either way, if he confessed
his deeds, he was a dead man. And Deane said if I talked, I’d be
dead, too, and that I wouldn’t die quickly and easily, either. But
then, neither did he die quickly. I felt sorry for him at the end.
Poor, miserable man, enduring all those years of pain and
increasing weakness. And guilt. How his conscience must have
weighed on him.”

“His conscience?” Royce shouted at her.
“Because of his crimes, he dragged you into the foul swamp he had
created for himself, and he kept you there for years.”

“He said a wife is always fated to share her
husband’s misfortunes.”

“Misfortune is not the word I’d apply to a
deliberate act of murder. Or to treason.”

“He’s dead now, Royce.”

“His misdeeds live after him.” Royce thought
for a moment. “Kenric may try to use this information to save his
own neck.”

“How can he?” Julianna asked. “If he speaks,
won’t he be punished for not telling the truth long ago?”

“You’d think so. I begin to believe that I
should have killed Kenric when I had the chance.”

“I am sorry to cause you so much trouble,”
she said. “I haven’t been a very satisfactory wife, have I?”

“There have been moments when I have found
you remarkably satisfactory.” Royce felt his mouth beginning to
tilt upward in a slight smile. He took a step toward her.
“Satisfactory enough to keep you.”