Passion in the Blood (17 page)

The
Abbesse
was plainly shocked. “Dear girl. I had heard of the
Comte’s
abduction, but I had no idea—what an ordeal you’ve had. I grant you and your child sanctuary.”

Dorianne fainted with relief.

***

Robert wasn’t sure how long Dorianne had been pregnant when she’d told him—perhaps two months? By his straw tally he’d been in captivity seven months. He closed his eyes and saw her rounded belly swelling with his child. When he estimated the time for her delivery might be close at hand, he knelt in silent prayer for hours in the damp straw, day after day, willing his child to come into the world whole and his wife to be well.
If she still lived
. He had a persistent feeling she was somehow close by.

As he knelt in prayer,
Esp
é
rance
rubbed against his hip. He took it as a good omen. He rarely saw her kittens any more. They could survive without their mother now.

He’d become disgusted with his inability to control his burning physical need for his wife. He couldn’t get images of her naked body, her face, her hair, her smile out of his head. “Nothing of my body works properly any more except my cursed shaft,” he lamented, meeting his own needs time and again. “If I’m rescued, Dorianne will never look at me again. I’m nothing but an animal. I look like one, I smell like one and I behave like one.”

***

He didn’t know it, but Dorianne wasn’t far away in the
Abbaye
where the sisters helped her deliver a healthy baby boy. She’d refused to send word to Montbryce. Isolated from the events of the world, she didn’t know who remained there, and she held firm to the belief she had to stay in Caen. Her baby had to be born there.

“Your Papa is alive,
mon petit
,” she murmured to the child when he was brought to her breast. “He’s praying for us. I can feel it.”

She turned to the
Abbesse
and made a request. “
Ma m
è
re
, now we need to let Robert’s family know about the birth of this child. He’s the heir to the Montbryce lands. Please send a message to my mother-by-marriage at Saint Germain.”

After their interview with King Henry, Baudoin and Caedmon had taken ship for Normandie and joined a distraught Mabelle at Saint Germain. They rode out on regular sorties with a contingent of their men-at-arms searching for any rumour or trace of Robert and Dorianne.

“This isn’t the Normandie we love, you know, Caedmon,” Baudoin lamented one afternoon. “It’s become a land of danger and foreboding. Everyone knows war with Henry is coming.”

Caedmon nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right. It seems a very different place from when we were here with Father on our way back from the Crusade.”

The two men smiled at the memory they shared.

“We’d better turn back,” Baudoin suggested. “No use getting too close to the Duke’s lands. We don’t want to make it easy for him to get his hands on two more of the sons of Ram de Montbryce, if he indeed is the abductor.”

They had entered the Hall at Montbryce when a monk was ushered in by Bonhomme.

“
Milady Comtesse
,” he said hurriedly to Mabelle, who’d been waiting for Baudoin and Caedmon to return with any news. “This friar claims to have a message from our dear lady, the
Comte’s
wife.”

Mabelle rose quickly from her chair. “Speak, Brother,” she commanded excitedly. “What news?”

The monk hesitated, scratching his chin. “
Madame
, it’s taken me many days to wander here to your castle. These are not easy times for a pilgrim alone on the road. Perhaps ale, before I begin my message?”

Baudoin glowered at him. “You’ll have ale aplenty, good friar, but first you’ll deliver your message.”

The monk shrank back, licking his lips. “As you wish,
milord
. It’s from a woman at the
Abbaye aux Dames
in the
Bourg l’Abbesse
in Caen who claims to be the
Comtesse
de Montbryce. She’s given birth to a son.”

Mabelle swayed. Baudoin rushed to her aid. She grasped his hand. “Baudoin, it’s our Dorianne. A child. A grandson. An heir. We must get her home. See to this kind friar.”

Caedmon turned to the monk. “I thank you for your message. The kitchen will see to your needs of food and ale, and Bonhomme will find you a chamber for the night. The news you bring is welcome indeed.”

***

“We’re clear on the plan, I assume?” Baudoin asked the group assembled in the Map Room of the castle de Montbryce. “We can’t go into the environs of the
Abbaye
with a large group of armed men. That would alert Curthose. We’ll ride to the outskirts of the town and then Caedmon and I will take the donkey and walk the rest of the way dressed as monks. We’ll bring Dorianne and the child back on the donkey and rejoin the main group for the ride back. Are there any other suggestions or ideas?”

The plan was risky. “Sometimes, the simplest plan is the best,” Caedmon observed.

Baudoin agreed. “They won’t be expecting intruders to the
Abbaye
. It’s the castle which will be heavily guarded.”

***

The elderly nun charged with the gates of the
Abbaye
responded to the persistent ringing of the bell. Her eyes widened considerably at the sight of two handsome monks, obviously brothers, drenched to the skin. Baudoin forced a smile, despite the chill in his bones and the rain dripping from his hood. “We seek shelter,
ma soeur
, for ourselves and our donkey.”

The nun opened the creaky gate and ushered them inside.

Baudoin would do the talking. Caedmon’s accented Norman French might make people wary. “We would beg an audience with the
Abbesse, ma soeur
. We’re here to see the
Comtesse
de Montbryce and her child.”

The woman scurried off without a word and came back a few minutes later with the
Abbesse
, who eyed them critically. “I assume you’re not monks?” she said derisively.

Baudoin and Caedmon went down on one knee and each in turn kissed the
Abbesse’s
hand. Baudoin reassured her. “
Non, ma m
è
re
, but we are good men who revere God and who seek only to protect and rescue our sister-by-marriage and nephew from a cruel injustice. I am Baudoin, Earl of Ellesmere, son of
Comte
Rambaud de Montbryce who fought alongside the Conqueror at Hastings, and this is my brother Sir Caedmon FitzRambaud.”

“You’re welcome, sirs,” the
Abbesse
replied, softening. “Men who revere God are difficult to find these days. Come, I’ll take you to the
Comtesse
.”

“On behalf of my family I thank you for the care you’ve taken of her and her child.”

The
Abbesse
bowed in acknowledgement. “Perhaps a small donation as a token of your family’s gratitude?”

Caedmon arched his brows and smiled a crooked smile. As they followed the nun, Baudoin asked him about it.

Caedmon smiled again. “Reminds me of how I convinced the Abbey in Alnwick to give up Agneta. Every religious establishment has a constant need of money.”

“Ah,
oui
, I forgot you told us that.”

When Baudoin walked into her small but comfortable cell, Dorianne thought it was Robert and her heart soared.

“Dorianne,” Baudoin exclaimed, embracing her as she trembled. “Dear sister, we’ve come to take you home. Where is the child?”

Caedmon embraced her and she led the two men over to the corner where a tiny boy slept. “He takes after Robert,” she croaked as the tears trickled down her cheeks. “Is there news of him?”

Caedmon shook his head. “No, but we surmise he’s in the castle here in Caen.”

“I’ve felt that too,” she said. “I’ve felt his presence close by.”

She told them how she came to be at the
Abbaye
and why she stayed there to bear her child
.

Baudoin passed her a blanket and an oilskin. “Wrap the child. We plan to take you back to Saint Germain.
Madame
l’Abbesse,
can we trouble you to give our sister a habit? In these dangerous times we must travel incognito.”

Dorianne interrupted. “I still have the habit they made me wear when they captured me.”

Caedmon’s eyes widened. “They made you wear a habit?”

Dorianne felt overwhelmed by the memory. “
Oui
, they forced Robert to wear a penitent’s robe. It was my brother,” she gasped with sorrow. “But he did it for Curthose.”

“We’re of the same mind, Dorianne,” Baudoin answered. “Quickly now, we’ve a long way to go before nightfall. Our men await us not fair off to aid our escape from Curthose’s lands.”

Dorianne slipped the habit over the surcoat the nuns had given her, and the
Abbesse
brought a wimple. She gathered up her child and swaddled him. She kissed the
Abbesse’s
hand. “
Ma m
è
re
, how can I thank you?”

“Go with God,
milady Comtesse
,” the
Abbesse
replied. “I’ll continue to pray for the safe return of your husband.”

Baudoin helped her mount the donkey and she clasped her son to her breast. They made their way slowly in the rain to the wood where the men-at-arms lay hidden. Tears flowed unbidden when she saw the ramparts of Caen castle in the distance in the
Bourg le Roi
.

“Robert is there,” she whispered. “I’m sure of it.”

“Aye! Keep faith, Dorianne,” Caedmon said. “King Henry plans to seize Caen when he invades Normandie to oust Curthose. We’ll save him.”

There was nothing else they could do but wait for Henry’s help. They didn’t have the forces necessary to launch an attack on the fortress at Caen. But she worried what effect his long confinement would have on her proud husband.

They rendezvoused with the larger group and made the long journey back to Montbryce safely. Mabelle came out to the courtyard to greet them and to take the child.

“He’s a beautiful boy, Dorianne. Welcome home, daughter. You’re safe now. Saint Germain is a fortress since your abduction. Hasten the day when we can be free of the dangers threatening us now. Your girls are anxious to see you.”

Tears trickled down Dorianne’s cheeks and she had to blow her nose. “I’ve missed them terribly.”

Turning to Baudoin, Mabelle asked, “What news of Robert?”

“Nothing,
maman
, but we’re convinced he’s in Caen. Caedmon and I will stay here with you. Ellesmere is in good hands and there’s no threat to it. We’ll await Henry’s command.”

Dorianne hastened off to the nursery to reunite with her daughters.

Not long thereafter, King Henry extricated himself from the domestic political problems besetting him in England and arrived in Normandie with an invading army.
Caedmon and Baudoin joined him.

“T
his war won’t end peacefully until my brother is captured and I’ve won a complete victory,” Henry told them. “I will win. I’ve put my trust in money.”

Baudoin and Caedmon had indeed seen the great barrels and carts full of coin.

The King smiled. “Money makes it possible to fight with more men. It will allow me to make promises to
Comtes
and barons. The more I promise, the more likely they are to abandon my brother. Even those who hold lands from the duke and owe him fealty have already left him in my favour, abandoning their true lord.”

Baudoin grimaced. “
Majest
é
, suddenly Normandie is a land full of fear. We’ve heard of people burying everything in cemeteries, leaving nothing in their houses for robbers and thieves.”

The King shook his head sadly. “It’s a result of my brother’s greed. I’ve summoned men from Le Mans and Anjou and Bretagne, and they have come willingly at the prospect of gain. All know the rewards to be had. My brother has no money left. He’s spent it freely. He’s had his castles rebuilt, walls repaired and strengthened, battlements constructed and trenches made in front of castles. At Caen he built a trench stretching from Rue d'Esmeisine to Porte Milet. But do you know what he does when he runs out of money to pay his mercenaries?”

Baudoin and Caedmon both shook their heads, though they had heard rumours.

Henry smirked. “He hands over his burgesses to the mercenaries, who then ransom them back to their families. This is a man who pretends to be a king! Many of his own burgesses now hate him.”

***

The war commenced. Curthose sought to make alliances with the King of France and other factions, but Henry had bought them off.

The cathedral town of Bayeux fell to Henry. Baudoin sent an account of events to Dorianne and his mother. Mabelle unfurled the parchment and read the missive to her daughter-by-marriage.