By Arrangement (9 page)

He hadn't realized until then how much the man had loved her. At night when the house was dark, did he go to her? Did she go to him? Had she slept with him? God, but he hoped so.

He firmly set aside consideration of the risks that had meant nothing before he met Christiana.

For both of them, then, he thought.

“If you refuse this merchant, do you think the other will come?” Oliver asked.

“He will come,” David said. “I would come. Keep your ears and those of your listeners open, Oliver. Not just for that, by the way. Stay around the pilgrims' taverns. I seek news from Northumberland.”

“Any particular news?”

“There is a knight named Stephen Percy. If he comes to Westminster, I want to know right away. Or if you hear anything else about that family.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “And if this man comes?”

David saw the look and knew at once that Sieg had already told Oliver of his interest in Sir Stephen. No doubt they guessed that he had something to do with Christiana.

He remembered Sieg's offer to deal with Morvan, and knew that Oliver was making the same suggestion now. It was not in their natures to do such things, but out of friendship for him they would do them anyway. Their loyalty could be burdensome at times. He had enough trouble battling his own inclinations without having to worry about the souls of the men who served him.

He thought about his promise to step aside. It had been a moment of weakness while gazing at a lovely face. His eye for beauty drove him from one bad bargain to another sometimes, especially when he negotiated
for something that he wanted to keep for himself. Fortunately, Percy would not return and test his honesty to that promise. All the same …

“Just let me know at once,” he said. “I will decide then.”

CHAPTER 5

C
HRISTIANA REMAINED FIRM
in her decision not to be alone again with David. The next Monday she insisted that they sit in the garden, where Lady Idonia just happened to find and join them. It was a pleasant visit as he entertained them with stories from his travels.

During dinner a few days later, Sir Walter Manny stopped by her table. Sir Walter was one of the Queen's men from Philippa's native land of Hainault. During their conversation he mentioned that he knew David and had even introduced him to the King two years ago when Edward had a letter for the mayor of Ghent and David was planning a trip to Flanders.

“Are you saying that David delivered the letter for the King?” she asked.

“It is done all the time, my lady. Why send a messenger if a trusted merchant makes the trip? Sometimes it is even better this way, especially if you do not want to draw attention to the communication. For example, everyone knows that there is currently a Flemish trader in
Westminster who is partial to the French alliance of the Count of Flanders, unlike his fellow burghers who support England. We just assume that he might have brought a private letter from the Count to our King. A formal exchange would be awkward since they are adversaries, but still negotiations occur.” He scanned the hall and pointed. “There he is with Lady Catherine. His name is Frans van Horlst.”

Christiana looked to where a gray-haired man fawned over Catherine. It was her “diplomat,” the one she had seen speak with David that first Tuesday after the betrothal.

And then, out of the corner of her mind came another memory, of the first time that she had seen that man in the King's private corridor. Two voices speaking Parisian French. One soft and low and barely a whisper.

David? The voice had been too quiet to tell. He knew the King well enough to offer for the daughter of Hugh Fitzwaryn, and yet no one had ever seen him around court. The access of that private passageway would explain that contradiction. Had it been David there that day? If so, what was he to the King that he entered and left by that special route? And what had Frans van Horlst wanted of him?

“Do you know if David still performs such favors for the King?”

Sir Walter shrugged. “I suggested him that once and introduced them. Whether the relationship continued I cannot say.”

“How did you come to know my betrothed?”

Sir Walter grinned and bent his fair head conspiratorially. “You no doubt know that he is an accomplished musician? Taught himself, too.”

She nodded dutifully, although she didn't know that at all.

“We both belong to the Pui,” he confided.

The Pui was one of many secret fraternities in London. The only thing truly secret about it was the date and location of its annual meetings. Besides drinking all night, the men of the Pui performed songs that they had composed, and one of the songs was chosen to be “crowned.” Sometimes when a jongleur played a new chanson, one might hear references to it being from the Pui.

“Has he played the lute for you? His preferred instrument is that ancient Celtic harp of his, but it often doesn't suit the songs and so he has had to learn the lute. Still, two years ago he beat me out for the crown, and I still swear it was only because of the novelty of that damned harp,” Walter said.

Christiana suddenly thought of the perfect way to be the exact opposite of alone with David that upcoming Monday. She confessed that her dear betrothed had never had the chance to play for her. Would Sir Walter be willing to help remedy the situation?

When David arrived Monday morning, she greeted him happily. She even smiled when he kissed her.

“I have called for a mount from the stables for you,” he said. “We will go to my house for dinner. You should meet the servants, and the boys need to get to know you.”

The last thing she wanted was to go to his house and meet the people involved in his life. They would be greeting her as their future mistress, while she would know that she would never see them again.

“Let us go out through the hall,” she suggested. “I need to see if Morvan is there. I have something to tell him.”

Of course Morvan wasn't there as she knew he wouldn't be. But Sir Walter was, sitting in a corner surrounded by seven young girls. He sang a plucky love song
as he played his lute, raising his eyebrows comically at the more romantic parts. The girls giggled at his exaggerated expressions.

“David!” he called, breaking off his playing as they crossed the hall.

“Walter,” David greeted him warmly. He glanced down at the girls sitting on the floor. “I see that you are living an Englishman's fantasy.”

The girls turned and assessed him. Christiana watched them react to his handsome face. They were all unmarried and younger than her.

“I am trying out a new lute,” Walter explained, holding up the instrument. He gestured to another on the bench beside him. “But I think that I prefer the old one.”

“It is always thus at first,” David said. He took Christiana's arm and began to guide her away.

Christiana glared at Walter.

“Let us see how they sound together, David,” Walter said quickly.

The girls clapped their hands in encouragement. David looked at Walter. He looked at the second lute. He looked at Christiana.

She smiled and tried to make her expression glitter like Joan's. She let her eyes plead a little.

With a sigh of resignation he stepped through the girls and sat beside Walter, taking the lute on his lap. Walter mumbled something and they both began playing a song about spring.

They played a long while, until the hall began filling for dinner. Whenever David attempted to finish, the girls would whine and cajole. There came a point when Christiana could tell that he had given up, that he knew that he was trapped for the duration. After that he even enjoyed himself, trading jokes with Walter and finally singing a song on his own.

It was a love song that she had never heard before. The melody was lyrical and slow and a little sad. Christiana closed her eyes and felt her own sadness stirred by it.

Her thoughts turned to Stephen and the melancholy swelled. She lost track of the next few songs as her heart and worry dwelled on him. Then the girls moved around her and she became alert again. The merry group broke up and Walter insisted that David dine with him. David accepted and then helped her to her feet. Briefly he looked at her, then smiled and shook his head in amusement.

They did not go to his house. She did not meet the people there. More importantly, they were not alone all day. When she finally returned to Isabele's apartment, Idonia and Joan had returned, and so his departing kiss was as light and discreet as his greeting.

Christiana stepped out of the silvery pink wedding gown and handed it to the tailor, who managed adroitly not to see her standing in her shift.

This marriage business did wonders for a girl's wardrobe. She could not feel excited about this new cotehardie, however. The cost made her feel guilty because she knew that it would never be worn. It would be in extremely poor taste to run off with Stephen in defiance of the Queen but still take the gown that the Queen had purchased.

What really bothered her about this gown, however, was its relentless progress toward completion. These fittings had become unwelcome but unavoidable reminders that time kept passing far too quickly. Half of the five weeks had passed, and still she had no word from Stephen Percy.

A servant helped her into her plain purple cotehardie
and blue surcoat. She sent the woman off to find Joan while she slipped on some low boots.

It was Friday, almost three weeks since her betrothal, and she would be seeing David this afternoon instead of next Monday because he would be out of the city then. They were going to the horse fair and races at Smithfield, which she thought might be fun.

Before they got there, however, she had a thing to two to say to Master David de Abyndon.

David rode into Westminster flanked by Sieg and Andrew.

Sieg was frowning. “Now, if pretty young Joan comes out with her, I leave and Andrew stays,” he said. “But if the little bit of fire from hell, that Lady Idonia, shows up, it's the other way around.”

“I'm afraid so, Sieg,” David said. On his left Andrew smirked.

Sieg frowned some more. “And whoever stays is to distract the other female so she's not in the way.”

David nodded. He had used Christiana's own lie about the Queen insisting that the girls not be alone with men to explain his need of Sieg and Andrew today. He was almost thirty years old, but this girl had reduced him to games that he'd given up at eighteen. She had avoided being alone with him since that first Tuesday and had been very clever about it. He was amused and not annoyed, but then he was growing fascinated with her and would probably excuse anything.

Their mutual attraction simply did not fit in with her plans. Her response to his kiss and embrace had badly frightened her. She acted as confused and inexperienced as an untouched virgin. That effect of innocence had charmed him almost as much as her quick passion had enflamed him.

He could avoid this game. Eventually, soon in fact, she would be his. But he found himself picturing those eyes and tasting those lips in his memory far too often for complete retreat. Besides, he did not want her rebuilding her defenses too well. He didn't relish the notion of having to choose between continence or rape on his wedding night.

“The problem as I see it,” Sieg continued, “is what if Lady Idonia won't be distracted? She's like a lioness protecting her cubs.”

“Hell, Sieg, you're three times her size, for heaven's sake,” Andrew muttered. “Just pick her up under your arm and walk off with her.”

Sieg's frown disappeared.
“Ja
? That was how I did it back home, of course, but I thought that here in England …”

“Andrew is jesting, Sieg.”

The frown returned. “Oh.
Ja
. ”

David had agreed to meet Christiana in the back courtyard. She and Joan stood by two horses being held by grooms. Sieg turned his horse away and David slipped a delighted Andrew some coins. “Keep Lady Joan busy at the races and the stalls.”

The grooms got the girls mounted. Christiana looked meaningfully in Andrew's direction.

“He will ride with us. He needs to see a man at the fair for me,” David explained.

She seemed to accept that, and they rode together in silence. By the time that they reached the Strand, Joan and Andrew were four horse lengths ahead and Christiana didn't seem to mind.

“People have been talking about you,” she said at last. David got the impression that she had waited for exactly the moment when Joan was too far ahead to hear what she said.

“People?”

“At court. Talking about you. Us. Everything.”

“It was bound to happen, Christiana.”

“Not these things. They weren't bound to be talked about because they are very unusual.”

“You needn't turn to the court gossips. I will tell you anything you want to know.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Will you? Well, first of all, some ladies have spoken to me on your behalf. Told me how wonderful you are.”

“Which ladies?” he asked cautiously.

“Lady Elizabeth for one.”

That surprised him. He and Elizabeth had an old friendship, but it was not her style to interfere in such things. “I am honored if Lady Elizabeth speaks well of me.”

“And Alicia.”

Hell.

Christiana's face was a picture of careful indifference. “Are you Lady Alicia's lover?”

“Did she say that?”

“Nay. There was something in the way that she spoke, however.”

When he had offered to tell her anything, this was not what he had in mind. “I do not think that we want to pursue this, do you? I did not press you for the names of your lovers. You should not ask me for mine.”

She twisted toward him abruptly. “Lovers! How dare you suggest that I have had lovers! I told you of one man.”

“You told me of a current man. There may have been others, but as I said, I have been open-minded and not asked.”

“Of course there were no others!”

“There is no of course to it. But it matters not.” He
smiled inwardly at her dismay. “Christiana, I am almost thirty years old and I have not been a monk. I do not plan on being unfaithful to you. However, if our marriage is cold, I imagine that I will do as men have always done and find warmth elsewhere.”