Suzanne Robinson (17 page)

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing, my little sunset. Your eyes light with rapture when you speak of your art treasures and grand building schemes. I’ve seen Florence and Venice. You’re right. There is a new light spreading over the world now that the scholars have discovered so much learning from ancient Rome and Greece.” He touched her cheek. “You have absorbed this rebirth into your soul, and that, my love, is already unique.”

Wonder spread through Honor, making her tingle and stealing her breath. He had called her lo
ve
.

She moved closer to him; her eyes fastened on his mouth, those soft lips that had taught her more in one kiss than she’d learned in her whole life with Aymer. Her lips almost touched his.

He groaned and let her kiss him, then abruptly drew back. “No!”

She opened her mouth, but he set her from him. “No, Honor. Don’t touch me, or I’ll never be able to say this. We don’t have much time before Jacoba remembers her duty, and I have two important things to say to you. First, I must follow this vision of Aymer’s murder when I come to Castle Stafford for the wedding.”

“I know that.”

“I like it not that a killer might still roam your father’s demesne.”

Honor smiled, then laughed and threw herself into Galen’s arms.

Frowning, Galen caught her and said, “There’s nothing amusing about this, Honor.”

“No,” she said, raising on tiptoe to put her arms around his neck. She looked into his eyes. “No, there isn’t, but I love it that you worry about me. I—I love you, Galen.”

“Honor, don’t.”

“I know you’re supposed to fall to your knees and make all sorts of dramatic vows, and such, but I had to say it after you’d given me so many proofs of your love. By my faith, Galen, I never thought to find you shy, but you’ve been trying to confess your love for four days now. I had to help.”

“Oh, dear God in heaven,” Galen said.

She grinned at him, but he was looking over her head, an expression of grim dread on his face. She turned in his arms to find three men, all with silky dark hair and that lean de Marlowe stature that reminded
her of tall birch trees. One of them sauntered over to them.

“God in heaven, Simon,” Galen said.

“Aye, dear brother. God in heaven, what have you done now?”

F
OURTEEN
 

D
ressed in one of his most elaborate tunics of red and gold damask, Galen rode down the path that wound through the forest past Durance Guarde. He was on his way to Castle Stafford, and on either side of him rode his brothers Simon and Macaire. Fulk and Fabron rode behind. Outriders trotted ahead, and behind came men-at-arms and guarded wagons laden with gifts for his betrothed. Macaire was whistling, while Simon stared ahead. Fabron was talking quietly to his twin with a grim expression on his face.

The whistling stopped, and Macaire glanced at Galen. “He’s still not speaking to us.”

“You can’t blame him,” Fabron said lightly. “After all, we did burst in upon him and prevent his confession.”

“By the blessed Trinity,” Simon replied. “That’s no reason to be so stubborn.” He cast a fulminating glance at his older brother. “You have to tell us. We already know you’ve had a vision full of dark portent, probably more than one.”

Galen merely turned and glared at Fulk. His quiet, shy brother was the only one who could know such an intimate detail. Fulk flushed and looked away.

Macaire was whistling again. He leaned over and slapped Galen on the arm. “Come now, you have to tell us sometime. Begin with the little Jennings creature. We’re desperate to know what possessed you after all these years to make an offer, and for such a fey little thing.”

Galen scowled, but he couldn’t remain furious with Macaire for long. Macaire simply ignored his ill humor and carried on as if everything were well between them. Faced with such determined good humor, it was impossible to remain angry. He sighed.

“It wasn’t that she’s tempting, although the Lord knows she is.” Galen shook his head helplessly. “It was that she’s both tempting and—and fatally endearing. From the moment she crashed through the door at Durance Guarde she …”

Galen leaned on his saddle pommel and tried to make sense of what had happened to him. “I don’t know. It’s as if she infected me. Perhaps she became a shade and entered my body, and now she’s with me all the time.”

He noticed that both Simon and Macaire were staring at him. He turned and saw that the twins were looking at him as if he were crazed.

“You don’t understand,” he snapped. “How could you. None of you has ever been in—”

“Love,” Fulk finished for him.

Galen twisted around and hissed, “Damnation and sin, Fulk. Will you stay out of my mind please? God deliver me from your cursed invasions.”

“I’m not trying to hear your thoughts,” Fulk replied. “You’re shouting them.”

“I care not.” Simon pulled up his horse, and the whole procession stopped, with the attendants keeping their distance. “You swore an oath on Mother’s grave, as did we all, never to expose the family by revealing the secret. This isn’t like you, Galen. You have to tell us what’s wrong.”

Galen stared at his most severe brother and finally relented. “I couldn’t prevent what happened. I had a vision while we were together. She already knows part of the secret.”

“I knew it!” Simon cried. “I knew there had to be some grave reason for this madness. You’re marrying her to keep her silent. You could have admitted it, you know.”

Macaire said, “Leave off, Simon. Galen is much troubled and needs time.”

“Well, he hasn’t got time, has he? He’s on his way to his betrothal, and in a fortnight he’s going to marry that snip of a girl who has no sense and less grace.”

Galen rounded on Simon. “She has sense. She’s extremely clever. More clever than you, dear brother. I’d match her wits against any don at Oxford, and she inquires into everything. Architecture, philosophy, printing.” Galen smiled, forgetting his irritating brother. “And she has eyes that contain all the shades of blue from azure to indigo.”

“Oh, well, that explains it, then, by my troth. The next time I take a fancy to a blue-eyed wench I’ll just tell her everything, shall I?”

“Use that word to refer to her again, and I’ll nail your ears back,” Galen snapped.

Macaire protested as the two oldest brothers glared at each other. Fulk and Fabron whispered together, then Fulk nudged his horse between Simon and Galen.

Fabron rode up beside Macaire, unfazed by the violent emotions blazing between the elder brothers. “Listen, Galen wants to tell Honor the secret before he marries her.” He caught Simon’s irate gaze and lifted an eyebrow. “There’s more to this than any of us suspected. More peril than he’s willing to admit.”

It was as if a chill passed from brother to brother. Galen felt it, felt their eyes upon him. So far he’d resisted telling them about the Tower vision. Telling them exposed them to great danger, but now he realized they’d never let him keep it from them. With the twins around, it would be impossible anyway. Fabron sensed his emotions,
and Fulk, if he tried, could read his thoughts like a book of hours. That was one of the primary reasons why he’d isolated himself at Durance Guarde in the first place.

Macaire was the first to throw off the feeling of dread. “I don’t care what you say. Galen would never endanger us.”

Fulk turned his horse so that he faced Galen. He held Galen’s eyes with his. The others waited quietly, knowing better than to interrupt the silent intercourse. Then Fulk spoke for the first time.

“The vision came when he touched her.”

“But, I don’t understand,” said Simon. “That’s never happened before.”

“It wasn’t simply that I touched her. I touched a stone Aymer Jennings gave her, and glimpsed his murder.”

“She murdered him?” Macaire exclaimed.

“No, you fool.”

“The question is,” said Simon, leaning in Galen’s direction. “Are you out of control because of this woman?”

“No! Now leave me alone.”

Fabron put his hand on Simon’s arm. “Yes, leave him. He doesn’t want to speak of it. He’s confused about the girl, and about something else far darker.”

“I want to know what that is, damn it,” Simon said. “I want to know what’s wrong.”

Fabron smiled. “Oh, Simon. You’re so bull-headed. It doesn’t matter what you want if Galen can’t bring himself to confide in us yet.” With this,
he kicked his horse into a trot and rode off. The outriders moved on. After a whispered conversation, Fulk, Macaire, and Simon left. Galen guided his horse off the path and watched the other men ride by, then the wagons. At last he was alone with his dread and his guilt.

He was on his way to betroth himself to Honor. He would remain at Castle Stafford until he married her. During that time he had to find out the truth behind Aymer Jennings’ disappearance, but it looked as if his brothers would do everything in their power to prevent him from telling Honor why they had to marry. Yet he didn’t think he could bring himself to deceive her. He wished he knew what to do.

“You’re right.”

Galen jumped and wheeled his horse around to find Fulk riding toward him through the forest.

“It’s frightening to expose oneself to another.” Fulk looked at his older brother gravely. He had their father’s pale blue eyes, ones so pale the pupils stood out like obsidian against silver.

“Why is it that the quietest, shyest, most retiring of my brothers is the most frightening?” Galen asked.

“I’m not trying to frighten you.”

“But you know.”

Fulk nodded. “Don’t tell her about the Tower vision. It has nothing to do with her or the vision of Aymer’s death. But she’s determined to discover what happened to Jennings, and I don’t think
you’ll be able to stop her. If you reveal the other to her, she might imperil all of us.”

“Christ, Fulk. Don’t you think I know that?” Galen grabbed his brother’s arm and hauled him close. “I didn’t want you to know about the Tower vision, damn you. Not
you
.” He ruffled Fulk’s hair and released him.

“You should be grateful for my aid.”

“Knowing about the Tower vision places you in terrible danger,” Galen said softly. “But since it can’t be helped, I’ll be grateful if you keep Simon from interfering between Honor and me.”

Fulk asked, “Does she love you enough to keep the secret?”

Galen nodded.

“But you’re not certain of your feelings for her.”

His thoughts veered to Constance and his children. “I never wanted this. Honor is too precious to risk.”

“And you see great risk in times to come,” Fulk said.

“I think so, but not for years yet.” Galen shook his head. “Fear not, Honor lives up to her name. She would never betray me, never lie to me, which is more than I can say for myself.”

“Galen,” Fulk said gently, “Simon is right. Say nothing to her until after the wedding. Please, I beg you.”

Galen scowled at his brother. “They sent you back apurpose, didn’t they?”

“No.” Fulk appeared to steel himself for something
and spoke again. “I came back without their urging. I beg you, Galen, protect yourself. You have but to wait a short time, and then you can tell her everything you wish.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” Fulk pressed his lips together. “Simon told me to tell you he thinks Honor may be in danger once you begin to hunt for Aymer’s murderer. There’s enough at risk as it is. Do you want to expose her to more peril?”

Galen stared into his brother’s eyes, eyes that had never lied to him. Fulk’s gift was perhaps the most powerful of all his brothers. He could share thoughts with another so intimately that he almost became the other person. He could do this without having to see or touch the one with whom he wished to share. It was the very magnitude of his power that caused him to retreat from others, for the gift was as invasive as a knife in the heart. As a child Fulk had often been terrified at what he saw in the minds of others. For many years Galen and Simon had taken turns guarding him, watching out for him until he grew old enough to protect himself. As time passed he learned to shield himself from the thoughts of others and seldom let down his guard except when he was alone with his family. He was smiling sadly at Galen now.

“Just find Jennings’ killer, marry Honor, and then tell her the truth. You’ll see. All will be well.”

“I—I’ll think about it.”

They began to ride, and Fulk gave Galen another of his rare smiles. The path left the forest, and over the hilltops they could see the Stafford pennant flying from the highest tower of the castle.

“You can always take Macaire’s advice,” Fulk said as they stared at the waving pennant. “He said to wed her, bed her, then talk to her. He said that if she balks, you can always lock her up in Durance Guarde until she gets over her fury.”

“All that proves, my dear Fulk, is that Macaire doesn’t know Honor Jennings at all.”

F
IFTEEN