In Honor Bound (5 page)

Then, late one night, she came to him, her face stained with tears, her body trembling with fear and weariness. He did his best to soothe her into calmness, then he tucked her into his bed and went immediately to wake his father with the news she had brought.

"No. I cannot think it." Robert drew his dressing gown more closely around his shoulders and looked from his son to his Lord High Chamberlain, bewildered, unable to believe there was yet more sorrow to be withstood. "Why should Lady Margaret destroy her own child? What possible gain would that bring her?"

"I do not know why," Philip insisted, "only that she is guilty. She had her waiting woman, Merryn, prepare her some potion that brought the child too soon. Murder, if ever there was such a crime."

"How is it that you know this, my lord?" Dunois asked with his usual calm.

"I had it from one who knows, one who overheard the plotting."

"I will speak to Lady Margaret of this," Robert said. "Dunois, send to her to come."

"You cannot," Philip said. "She is by far too ill just now, but I know she was deliberate in this."

Robert sighed. "So, Richard's child is dead, too."

Philip nodded, his eyes full of commiserating sorrow. He knew his father had looked to have another Richard in Richard's son. Now even that consolation was gone.

"This is a serious matter, my lord," Dunois said. "Who is this 'one who knows' you speak of?"

"One of Margaret's maids," Philip admitted, not wanting to say more.

"Her name?"

"Philip?" Robert prompted.

"Katherine," Philip said half under his breath, then he looked at the two older men with resolution. "Katherine Fletcher."

Dunois raised one insinuating eyebrow.

"I believe her, Father," Philip said glowering, then he knit his brow, remembering her grief. "She put the child in the shroud herself and wept as she told me of it. Why should she lie?"

His father looked more past him than at him. "Was it a boy?"

Philip nodded.

"A boy," Robert repeated almost inaudibly.

"Speak to the princess, Your Majesty, before passing judgment," Dunois suggested. "It may be that this girl my lord spoke to was mistaken."

"Very true," Robert said, recovering himself. "I will speak to her. This thing will be sounded to the very bottom and we shall have justice."

***

At dawn, the king went to Margaret's bedside, ready to answer with a vengeance the murder of his dead son's child. He almost wavered at the sight of her before him, her eyes sunken and ringed with black, her thin lips colorless and chapped. It was difficult for him to discern the much-toasted beauty in the haggard woman who had to be supported even to sit up.

"Madame, there have been grievous wrongs laid to your charge."

"Wrongs, my lord?" Weary puzzlement was on her face and she leaned more heavily upon her ladies. "In what have I offended Your Majesty?"

"Come, come, lady. Taking the innocent life of a babe unborn is offense enough, but to kill the next king of Lynaleigh, my Richard's only child–"

Margaret seemed to wilt at the harsh words and her tears flowed freely. "Kill? My lord, you cannot think I purposed to lose my child. It is too cruel to say so to me now."

"I was told you had engineered the babe's death. Is it not so?"

"Who could so abuse Your Majesty and me to make you believe such a lie? I have just lost my lord and husband. Could you truly believe that I would kill all that was left of him, my only consolation in his death? The child was mine as well as his, made from my flesh, nurtured with my blood. What could make me destroy it?" The tears welled up again. "Yet it may be that I am to blame. I did so grieve for Richard that it may be I caused the child to be born too soon."

"Let us speak plain, lady, for I am not so easily trifled with as I have been. I know there was no great love between you and my son, unless it was love for the throne he would have had."

"Perhaps that is so," she said, growing suddenly cool, "but if my love was all for the throne, why would I destroy my only link to it, the child that had next claim? Put my motives at their basest and you will see I had every reason to safeguard the child. What gain has its loss brought me?"

"None," he said finally, and she lay back against her pillows.

"I am tired, my lord."

His face was still stern, but there was resignation in it now. "You must forgive me, lady. It was sorrow and not reason that spoke in me before."

He left her to her women and returned wearily to his chamber, grateful for the cup of wine Dunois brought him.

"How do we punish ill-fortune for her crimes?"

He did not expect an answer, but the chamberlain came closer.

"When ill-fortune effects her own designs, we can do nothing, but when she sets them to another's doing, then it is in our power to punish."

Robert shook his head. "There was no murder here, the child simply miscarried. This Fletcher woman was merely mistaken, hysterical with the suddenness of it all."

"Or had a greater purpose in making such an accusation."

"How do you mean?"

"Suppose it was Katherine Fletcher who gave her the potion that killed that child, not Merryn as my lord Philip was told."

"But what cause could she have for it?"

There was a knowing significance in Dunois' glance. "There is many an ambitious woman will use any means to gain power."

"But what could she hope to gain by this?"

Dunois hesitated for a moment.

"I know, my liege, she has been Lord Philip's mistress some time now. The child's death makes him your heir."

"Then you accuse Philip–"

"Of nothing, Majesty, except of perhaps being deceived. He is smitten with the wench and will not even spare a glance to any of the others. She has beguiled him soundly. Many a mistress aspires to be wife, and, if wife to him, then queen."

"Philip would never step so far as to marry one of these common wenches!" Robert said, shocked more at the idea of such a marriage than at such a murder.

"He has refused all the others. I hardly dare to speak it, but might he not set this girl up one day as Lynaleigh's queen? I fear even the thought, but it seems he'll never take a noble wife as long as this base wench is alive."

"No."

"He is your heir now. If you should die before his marriage, he would be free to choose a wife for himself. He thinks he loves this drab."

"But he'd not marry her!"

"If I know him, my liege, as no doubt you do, he'll have no other so long as she lives."

"Would you have me take her life?"

"Would you have her bastard blood forever pollute the line of Lynaleighan kings?"

Robert was galled by the thought. "He says he loves her, calls her fair and virtuous and most loving to him. He has braved me again and again for her sake. Can I condemn her and keep my son?"

"Is she truly all these things, my lord, or does she merely seem so to him?" Dunois lowered his voice. "I have heard that a man might be–" He paused and almost imperceptibly stressed the word. "–
bewitched
by such a woman."

For a moment, Robert thought he might laugh at the suggestion, then understanding flashed through him and he crossed himself. "God defend us, do you think her a witch?"

There was a certain archness behind the concern in the lord chamberlain’s expression.

"It could explain, to the satisfaction of any who might raise questions, his sudden infatuation with her and his disobedience to you and why she must not live. A young prince of such promise would be especially prized by the evil one. Doubtless the girl has been empowered by Satan expressly to draw him into destruction. Still, we must not act rashly in so grave a matter. This should be tried in court."

"The girl is nothing, but Philip would never forgive me such a trial."

"Send him away, my liege. When he returns, she will be gone and he will quickly forget her. Such light wenches are easily replaced in a boy's fancy."

"Where?"

"To Amberly, so please you. The unrest there has too long been neglected and we both well know how apt my young lord is to win a people's loyalty with just a few brave words."

Robert looked at his counselor, an awed, admiring fascination in his eyes. "What will you have, my lord, to pay you for saving my kingdom yet again?"

"I only wish your happiness, Your Majesty, and my lord Philip's, of course. I wish him happy in his marriage, too. Of all the ladies that might be suitable for him, I noted but one that seemed to win his favor."

"Your Marian."

Dunois' answer was a self-deprecating shrug, but the king's expression turned thoughtful.

"Your lady was of the Chastelaynes, I know, Dunois, and Marian is heir to your lands. More importantly, Philip did seem to favor her most of all the nobility."

"Perhaps he will take the Fletcher girl's loss the better if Marian above all the others was chosen."

Robert paused for a moment, remembering the pleas his son had made. "For Philip's sake, I cannot on so slight evidence take the girl's life."

"Not even if it was she who made away with the poor innocent child of the son you lost?"

"There is no proof of that."

"I spoke to Princess Margaret earlier this morning, my liege. She remembered taking a potion to ease her discomfort shortly before her pains started."

"So Philip said, and it was given her by Merryn."

"It was given her by Katherine Fletcher."

"Dunois–"

"Who is to say it was not? The child is dead, my lord, whether by chance or by design. If this charge was proved against Katherine Fletcher, could you not then, in law, rid yourself of her and remove this dangerous hindrance to your son's reign? Surely, my lord Philip would not sanction murder just for the benefit of his lust."

"Let it be so," Robert said after long consideration. "Rid me of this low-blooded Katherine and your daughter shall be Lynaleigh's next queen."

"Your Majesty overwhelms me with this honor."

"It will be well worth it, if you can do what you have said and keep me my son."

"One day he will thank you, my liege, for sparing him the ignominy he now seems bent upon," Dunois assured him. "Bring the witch to trial."

The king nodded. "There my nobles can see and tell the people she is fairly dealt with and none can call it unjust."

"Of course," Dunois agreed. "Of course."

***

Before
noon
, Philip was again in his father's private chamber.

"Have you spoken yet to Margaret, Father? Heaven and earth, what she has done is an offense to God Himself!"

"She is very ill yet," Robert said placidly, "but do not fear. This matter shall be brought before the court and the guilty shall not go unpunished. So, let that rest. I have need of you now in another cause. You must go to Amberly."