The Fatal Crown (34 page)

Directly after breaking his night’s fast, Stephen met Robin in the courtyard. The Earl of Leicester and his party of grooms and huntsmen were already mounted.

“We will go on, Stephen, do you join us on the road,” Robin said in a loud voice for the benefit of anyone in the courtyard who might be listening. With a wave and a wink he led his party out of the courtyard.

A few moments later Maud appeared with her groom.

“We do not need another groom,” Stephen said. “We will join the Earl of Leicester’s party.”

“Very well,” Maud said, her cheeks suddenly flushing. She dismissed her groom and let Stephen help her mount the white palfrey.

She knows, Stephen realized in relief, somehow she knows what will happen and comes willingly. He could already feel her warm and naked in his arms.

In silence they rode across the drawbridge and onto the path along the embankment. Following the road, they veered away from the river and finally came to the meadow. When they reached the edge of the woods, Stephen dismounted, helped Maud down, and tethered their horses to a tree. He took her hand, and for a moment she hesitated, looking up at him with a slight question in her eyes.

“There is no danger,” he said. “Trust me.”

She nodded, and without a word followed him into the woods and down the tangled path until they came upon the clearing.

“What place is this?” Maud asked, stopping in surprise.

“It belonged to our Uncle William Rufus.”

“Indeed?” She ran lightly across the grassy clearing to the door of the lodge. “How did you find it?”

“Stumbled upon it by chance,” Stephen said, following her through the door.

Inside, there were fresh rushes on the floor, the room had been aired, and there was a pile of newly cut logs on the hearth as well as water in a large iron cauldron. A flagon of wine and several wooden cups stood on a scarred oak table. Robin had been true to his word. Everything was in readiness.

Pulling off her leather gauntlets, Maud examined the lodge with interest. Suddenly unable to meet her eye, Stephen found himself tongue-tied as an awkward silence settled over them. Now that the long-awaited moment had arrived, Stephen did not know how to proceed. His heart pounded, the blood sang in his ears, but he felt like an untried youth about to bed his first woman and terrified of the outcome. He was so unnerved that when he poured himself a cup of wine, his hand trembled, dashing the cup against the table and spilling half the amber liquid. As he handed her the cup their fingers touched; without a word, Stephen took the cup out of her hand. In one fluid movement they came together.

Within moments their clothes lay heaped in the rushes, their naked bodies straining against each other, starved for one another’s touch. Maud’s lips were warm and yielding; the feel of her slender, taut body, the silky smoothness of her skin, and the firm peaks of her breasts crushed against him took Stephen’s breath away. She was far more beautiful and exciting than in his wildest imaginings.

Unable to restrain himself a moment longer, Stephen lifted her in his arms and carried her over to the bed. His desire fueled to an unbearable pitch, he could not wait, but covered her body with his own. As he entered her she stiffened, as if in pain, and Stephen paused in surprise. By God’s birth, she felt almost like a virgin! He proceeded more slowly, thrusting forward in sure, steady strokes until, like a delicate flower unfolding its petals, she opened to receive him.

This coupling had none of the gentleness of their first encounter. Stephen was too greedy, too hot to do anything but assuage the urgency of his own overpowering need. And hers, too, he soon discovered to his amazed delight. Maud blazed with passion, her body arching to meet his, matching his movements with a wild abandon that thrilled him. Together they merged, reaching a pinnacle of joy as one rapturous flesh.

After a time Stephen opened his eyes. He was lying on his side, Maud in his arms, his lips resting on her cheek, one hand curved around her breast. She seemed to be asleep. The arm on which she lay had gone numb but he was reluctant to shift it for fear of waking her. Closing his eyes again, he nestled his face against hers. A delicious contentment filled him, and he felt he could lie here, just as he was, for the rest of his life, no future to strive for, no past to regret. All that mattered was the wonder of this moment. He could give no name to what had happened to him, but never before in his life had he experienced anything remotely like it.

“Stephen.”

Maud’s voice, soft and languorous, penetrated his thoughts. Opening his eyes, he met her gaze. Her face was luminous, softer than he had ever seen it; a wondering smile played about her lips.

“Yes, ma belle?” he whispered against her mouth.

“I wanted to be sure you were real, not a dream.”

“Real enough, I assure you.” He laughed, hugging her to his chest.

She sighed luxuriously. “Even in my dreams I could not imagine such happiness.” She lay quiet in his arms, running her fingers through the pelt of golden hair covering his chest.

“Nor I,” Stephen said, burying his face in the soft valley between her breasts.

She stroked his head and asked, “Have we been here long?”

Time. He sighed. By God’s birth, he had forgotten all about the time. They must be back at the same hour as Robin so that it would appear as if they had all gone hunting together. Springing out of bed, he ran to the door, opening it a crack. The clearing was deserted. Pushing the door open more widely, he looked up at the sun. Less than two hours to Vespers, he reckoned. Just barely time to dress and ride back to Windsor.

“We must leave, ma belle,” Stephen said, searching in the rushes for his clothes. “We cannot arrive too long after Robin, so let us hurry.”

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Maud stretched, throwing back her head and raising her arms over her head. She rose from the bed, yawning, and walked naked over to the cauldron of water. Taking a linen cloth from a pile on the floor, she dipped it in the water and began to wash herself, her movements neat and deft as a cat.

Stephen’s eyes traveled upward from her arched white feet to the long legs and rounded thighs ending in the apex of the copper-colored triangle, the curve of hip that flowed into a narrow waist and strong rib cage that supported the swell of her generous breasts with their rosy pointed nipples. Then the white arc of her neck, the soft oval of her face framed by a waterfall of gleaming russet hair, the coral lips, slightly parted in a smile, and, finally, the wide gray eyes, radiating love, acknowledging his admiration with pride. She was so lovely that Stephen, stirred to his depths, felt an unbearable ache in his chest.

Maud finished her toilet, dressed quickly, coiled her hair around her ears, and followed Stephen out of the lodge. Outside she stood stock-still gazing in amazement at the scene before them.

“Surely this place was not so lovely when we arrived,” she murmured. “Someone has cast a spell of enchantment over it.”

Tiny white flowers dotted the mossy earth and tall trees raised green-budded branches toward a deep blue sky. The scent of new grass blew on the breeze, and the sound of birdsong filled the balmy air.

“Perhaps we view the world with new eyes,” Stephen said.

Hands intertwined, Maud and Stephen followed the path through the woods. Just before they entered the meadow, Stephen stopped and took her in his arms. Looking down into her eyes, he found them misted with tears. He wiped the crystal drops away with a tender finger, his heart so full he felt it would overflow.

“Somehow we will find a way to be with each other,” he whispered.

He bent to kiss her on her softly parted lips, the kiss becoming deeper and deeper until they reeled apart, unsteady on their feet, breathing heavily. As they walked out of the woods and into the sunlit meadow, what came to Stephen’s mind were the words Maud had said to him in the chamber at Westminster three years ago: “You have lit a fire, Cousin, that will not be so easy to put out.”

The words echoed disturbingly in his ears. Was he to be consumed by that same flame?

A
YEAR PASSED AND
Maud was still in England. As her father had predicted, Geoffrey of Anjou had reconsidered his hasty decision. He sent several long messages to the King in which he expressed regret for any offense he may have caused his wife or the House of Normandy and begged his father-in-law to send the Countess of Anjou back at once.

King Henry made excuses, promising to bring the matter up before his council, but Maud knew he dared not broach the subject for the barons still resented the marriage and were pleased at the estrangement. However, sooner or later, the King warned her, when the moment was ripe, then she must be prepared to go back to her husband. Meanwhile, Maud lived only for the moment: Her future was uncertain; the past had never existed. Stephen comprised her whole world.

On this eighteenth day of June, in the year 1130, Maud was waiting in her chamber at Westminster for Stephen to arrive to escort her to Winchester.

“The Count of Mortain awaits you in the courtyard with the horses.” It was Aldyth’s voice, tight with disapproval.

Maud stiffened as her nurse walked into the chamber. Sweet Marie, not another tirade. She put a white coverchief on her head, threw a dark blue traveling cloak over her shoulders.

“I’m ready. Do you have the herbs?”

“Yes.”

“May I please have them?”

“Even with the herbs there is still a risk. Only abstinence is sure.”

“As you never tire of reminding me. There has been no difficulty thus far.” Maud took several sealed paper cones from Aldyth’s reluctant hands, placed them in an ivory box, then slipped the box carefully into a leather saddlebag already packed with clothes and other necessaries for the journey to Winchester.

“There’s always a first time,” Aldyth said. “You behave as if you are different from other women, proof against the consequences of your actions.”

“Not that sermon again—I know what I’m doing.”

Aldyth, a suspicion of tears glinting in her faded blue eyes, shook her head. “Do you? Adultery is a mortal sin, as you well know, and with your own cousin to boot! May God and the Holy Virgin forgive you. Should even a whisper of this scandal come to the notice of the King or the barons, your whole future is in jeopardy—”

“Yes, yes, yes. We have been through all this before. Stop worrying.” Maud picked up the saddlebag and walked briskly to the door of her chamber.

There was a moment’s strained silence. “When do you return?” Aldyth asked.

“Within a week or thereabouts.”

“By the Rood, people will gossip if you are gone that long.”

“What is there to gossip about?” With a hand on the door, Maud swallowed her ever-growing impatience and turned back to Aldyth. “How many times must I tell you? The King
asked
Stephen to escort me to Winchester to visit the treasury and the mint. It is two days’ journey from Westminster, two days back again, and at least two or three days there. How could I be gone for less time?”

Aldyth sighed in resignation. “Always an answer for everything. Be sure to take the herbs regularly; remember the myrrh, rue, and tansy must be placed in a tub of hot water, and you must soak yourself immediately after—after—”

“I remember,” Maud interjected. “I will see you in a week or so.”

Disquieted by Aldyth’s accusing countenance, Maud quickly opened the door, walked down the passage, and descended the winding staircase, hanging onto the thick rope that served as railing.

In the courtyard, Stephen waited on his Flanders mare, Audrade, accompanied by Gervase and several other squires, two members of the King’s administrative staff returning to Winchester, grooms, servitors, and an armed guard. Maud greeted her cousin with cool courtesy, only letting her eyes convey her true feelings. A groom helped her mount her white palfrey, then Maud and Stephen led the way out of the courtyard followed by the others, the armed guard bringing up the rear. For a short while they rode along Watling Street, then turned southwest toward Winchester.

“We will find a way to be alone,” Stephen said under his breath, as he moved his horse closer to hers. “Although at the moment I cannot tell how. We must see how matters fall out at Winchester.” He gave her a conspiratorial smile.

She forced a smile in return, for despite her unfailing delight in Stephen’s company, this morning Maud felt unsettled, a prey to guilt and anxiety, as was generally the case after one of her many quarrels with Aldyth.

It was impossible to explain the depth of her feelings to her Saxon foster mother, who saw life only in stark colors of white or black: This was right, that was wrong. I love Stephen, Maud asserted silently, defending herself to a phantom Aldyth, and I am not willing to give up what might be my only chance of happiness. At any moment I may be forced to return to Anjou or called upon to ascend the throne. The remainder of my life will be devoted only to the weal of the kingdom. But now I want to live as I choose. After all, since only Gervase and you know of our liaison, whom are we hurting?

And what of Holy Church, Aldyth would be sure to flash back, do you think nothing of putting your soul in peril? The strictures of Holy Church could always be circumvented, Maud thought with a cynical shrug, so long as one repented in good time. Or so the Emperor had believed.

Contrary to Aldyth’s accusations, Maud had barely seen Stephen alone since their initial encounter last May. Due to lack of privacy, as well as their separate obligations, they had been together only four or five times in the past year, never for longer than two hours. Maud lived for these brief joyous encounters. Within moments of their being together time no longer existed, so completely did they create their own world.

Now Maud cast a sidelong glance at Stephen on his roan mare. A shudder of desire ran through her as her eye fell on his hands holding the reins. Large and strong, covered with fine golden hairs, she remembered the touch of those warm, sensitive fingers exploring her body with lingering caresses, arousing such exquisite sensations that she trembled in anticipation.