Once a Bride (28 page)

’Twas just enough to break the heavy tension in the room, and Roland silently thanked Geoffrey for getting them out of the Tower. His head spun with the ramifications of what he’d done, but how could he have done otherwise?

Once down at the barbican, Roland collected his weapons, then handed over his scabbard and sword to Geoffrey, who toted only a dagger.

Geoffrey stared at the scabbard now in his hand. “Why give me this?”

“You know how to use it, I assume.”

“Aye.”

“Take Eloise back to the room. She can show you from which vendor to purchase the tastiest meat pies in London.”

For the first time since their lovemaking, Eloise touched him, her fingers to his arm. “Where are you going?”

“Westminster Palace.”

“So soon?”

“May as well get it done.”

And then she was in his arms, holding tight, as if they had every right in the world to embrace on a public street. Roland buried his face in her hair, lost himself in the exotically sweet scent of her he’d never been able to identify.

She felt of heaven, smelled of forever, neither of which were his to grab hold of.

“You will be careful,” she whispered.

“On my honor.”

“I—” She swallowed. “We will buy you a pie for your supper. Hurry back.”

Chapter Sixteen

E
LOISE TUCKED her hand into the crook of her brother’s arm, grateful for the support. She needed to feel close to someone right now and her brother was the perfect choice.

She could hardly believe Roland made the offer to speak with the king, then left to get it done so soon. He put himself in a precarious position, yet he seemed confident … but then, didn’t he always? And so far wasn’t that confidence warranted?

Perhaps she worried overmuch.

Certes, she shouldn’t have hugged him, but how else could she show her appreciation for involving himself in this most crucial plan to prove her father’s innocence? ’Struth, hadn’t she truly hugged him in a vain effort to hold him back, keep him from possible dangers?

Ye gods, if the king took exception to Roland’s meddling, he could end up in a chamber in the Tower of London, too. Then she’d have two men she loved locked away.

“He will be fine, Eloise.”

“Can you read minds now?”

“You think loudly, and your hold on my arm reveals your upset.”

And her unconventional hug for Roland gave Geoffrey a clear indication of who she presently worried over. Eloise loosened her grip enough to prevent nail marks in her brother’s arm.

Geoffrey patted her hand. “He surprised me with his offer.”

Roland stunned them all, Father the most.

“Surprised me, too. I knew he was upset by Timothy’s beating. He blames himself for not looking after the lad.”

Roland had been in bed with her, a place he shouldn’t have been, making love, which they shouldn’t have done. Now Roland suffered pangs of conscience for both.

Geoffrey stopped walking and looked down at her as if she were an exasperating child. “He involves himself because of you, Eloise, only in part for Timothy.”

“I believe you are mistaken.”

Geoffrey shook his head and began walking again. “The last time we spoke of Roland St. Marten, you described him as a disgusting toad. You have apparently changed your opinion.”

Eloise remembered that short conversation with Geoffrey in the hallway at Lelleford. “I was angry with Roland. He had told Hugh he thought me too brazen to make a suitable wife. All I could hear was his disapproval of me, and so …”

“He became a disgusting toad. I understand. What changed your mind?”

Eloise took a long breath. “Roland. He loved Hugh. Had I truly been listening I would have realized he was only concerned for his brother. I might have been too hasty to take offense.”

She shouldn’t have been listening at all, and had judged Roland too quickly on snippets of their conversation.

“So Roland has proved himself worthy of your regard.”

“Many times over. He can be gallant or firm, as the situation calls for it. He is honorable, loyal to the king. Did you know he was knighted for bravery on the battlefield?”

“Was he?”

“Guarded the king’s back, so I understand. And he has an easy way with children, and both Simon and Marcus trusted him right away. And—”

“I get your message. A true paragon of knighthood. Ah, I smell meat pies.”

She let go of Geoffrey’s arm so he could make the purchase. Four pies. Theirs, one for Roland, the last for Timothy.

Geoffrey wore a disturbed expression, and Eloise realized she rambled on more than she ought. Especially after Geoffrey had seen her embrace Roland. She offered to carry the pies as she did when Roland wore his sword. A man couldn’t properly draw one, if the need arose, with his hands full.

They walked on, the apothecary mere blocks away.

Geoffrey clasped his hands behind his back. “So, this paragon of yours—”

“Roland is not mine. I only enumerated his qualities to convince you our trust in him is not misplaced.”

“Truly?”

“Aye.”

“Then your admiration for him is due to his gallantry and honor.”

“In part. He has also been my protector and advisor. I left Lelleford with little more planned than getting to London and going to see Father. Roland knew where to stable the horses, let a room. He guided me to the Tower, showed me the way of keeping on the guards’ good side. Without him, I might not have gotten in. I owe him a debt. And given his actions this afternoon, the debt becomes larger.”

“You need not pay him with your heart, Eloise.”

“Gratitude has nothing to do with why I love —” Damn Geoffrey. He’d led her right into the admission and she hadn’t seen it coming. “Not fair, Geoffrey. You tricked me into that admission.”

“ ’Tis the only way to deal with you at times. So you love Roland St. Marten?”

“I would deny it if I thought you might believe me.”

“Too late.” He laughed lightly. “ ’Twas too late the moment I saw the way you looked at him. Your affection for him shines in your eyes. I imagine Father has noticed, too. Perhaps that is part of why he wants me to take you to Cornwall and send Roland back to Lelleford.”

“To part us.”

“I fear so. Does Roland know you love him?”

She shook her head, her heart hurting. “Nay, I have not told him, nor will I. There is no future for us, no matter the outcome of Father’s trial. Roland is as aware of his station and duty as I am of mine. ’Tis hopeless to wish otherwise.”

“Is it? I thought my situation with Leah hopeless, too, and look how that worked out. We are now married, have a child on the way—”

Eloise’s spirits soared. “You do! How wonderful! Did I not tell you Leah would make you happy? When is the babe due? I am to be godmother to your firstborn, remember? Oh, this is grand!”

“The babe should be born late winter, and aye, you shall be godmother—no matter that you never gave me a choice.” Then he sighed. “I wish the same happiness for you, marriage to a man who loves you as I love Leah, who can give you a home and children and cherish his blessings.”

“Perhaps Roland could, but I am not sure he wants those things with me. Besides, could you see me trying to convince Father to allow me to marry a landless knight?”

“Hmmm. There is that.”

“There most certainly is.”

Geoffrey grabbed hold of the door latch and jerked, only to find the apothecary’s door locked.

At his puzzled look, Eloise explained. “Roland insists that when he is not about, Mistress Green is to close her shop and lock all the doors, including the one to the room where she stays with Timothy. When she hears the bell, she looks out the window to see who rings and only admits those people she knows and trusts. I am sure she will be down any moment now.”

“Roland fears another attack?”

Eloise shivered at the thought of the last one. “Perhaps, but more likely he simply strives to keep safe all of those he considers his charges.”

“An impossible thing to do.”

“Try telling that to Roland.”

Roland poured wine from a gold flagon and handed the goblet to Edward, then continued his explanation for requesting this audience.

“So I chased after the Lady Eloise. By the time I caught up to her I decided I might as well bring her into the city to see her father, otherwise I would have to worry about her taking it into her head to try for London on her own.”

“A headstrong woman, then. Like her father.”

The king didn’t have any notion of how strong-willed and persistent Eloise could be, and Roland wasn’t about to tell him, at least not yet.

“I am confident Lelleford is in good hands in my absence. Both Simon and Marcus are capable commanders. Their belief in Sir John’s innocence will ensure they do their utmost to hold the castle safe. I am convinced that if Sir John is guilty of the charges, neither of his most trusted knights knew of their lord’s activities.”

“And the Lady Eloise?”

“The same, my liege. All were genuinely shocked and dismayed to hear the charges, and will swear no Scot has ever passed through Lelleford’s gates.”

Edward walked toward the brocade chair in his sitting room, and Roland again marveled at the man. They were but a year apart in age, and yet Edward ruled a kingdom, had done so for several years now. Every day he dealt with heavy issues of state, endured a bevy of advisors who pulled him every which way. Earls, knights—his own wife.

The queen, Philippa, could be headstrong, too, but in a gentler manner than Eloise. And Edward loved his young wife even though the marriage had been arranged.

Edward eased into his chair. “Has the lady visited the Tower as yet?”

“Several times, actually.”

Edward tilted his head. “You have been in the city long?”

“Unfortunately.” Roland swirled the wine in a jewel-encrusted gold goblet. “My original plan was to stay but one night, allow Lady Eloise to see her father, and then begin the journey back to Lelleford the next day. Events intervened. Do you remember Timothy, my squire?”

“A lad from the stables, as I recall. A problem there? Shall I find you another squire?”

“Nay, Timothy suits me fine. But there is a problem. He currently recovers from an unwarranted, loathsome beating he endured the other night at the hands of knaves. He will heal, but does so slowly. Thus my continued presence in London.”

Edward pinched the bridge of his hawklike nose between thumb and forefinger. “The streets of London overflow with vermin, particularly after nightfall. Seems no matter how many watchmen the city’s aldermen hire, the worse the problem.”

“Aye, well, these two vermin were after more than a bit of sport with Timothy. I will not bore you with all the details, but the villains had set out to kidnap Lady Eloise. I scuffled with both. One fell down a flight of stairs and died, the other managed to escape me — in a moment of my distraction I very much regret — but not before I learned they were hired to whisk Eloise off to Southwark.”

Edward’s eyes narrowed. “An unholy place. I assume you informed the watchmen?”

“Naturally. I did not get a good look at the man who escaped, but Timothy did. The watchmen hold little hope for catching the culprit, however.”

“Truly, I should have a word with the bishop of Winchester about the brothels in his domain. Innocent women should not be forced into such a life. ’Tis odd, and disturbing, the villains thought to sell a nobly born woman into prostitution. They usually choose peasant girls who no one will miss overmuch.”

Disturbing, indeed, how any woman of any station could come to such a pass. He didn’t want to think of what horrors Eloise might have faced.

“I do not believe London’s noblewomen have much to worry over in this case, my liege. These ruffians were after one particular noblewoman. Lady Eloise. Whoever hired these men paid them to snare Eloise, no one else. I fear the reason has to do with her father’s situation.”

Edward rose, his expression fathomless, and walked over to the high, arched window that overlooked the palace garden. “Perhaps the daughter of a traitor deserves such a fate.”

The king’s sentiment shocked him. Roland strove for a balance between admonishment and respect.

“My liege, you above all should be grateful that the child must not suffer for the sins of the father.”

Edward’s head spun around. “You dare?”

“Only because I firmly believe Lady Eloise should not suffer harm because her father committed a crime, which I understand is yet to be proven, just as your reign thus far is so successful because you are compared to your grandfather and not your father. My liege, if the people blamed you for your father’s ineptitude, would you now enjoy their respect and love?”

“One has naught to do with the other! My … father’s intentions were always good. Granted, he made errors in judgment, but he never purposely harmed his kingdom. Sir John has deliberately harmed England by selling weapons to Highlanders! By harming England, he harms me, the person to whom he has sworn his loyalty. The offense is unforgivable.”

Edward’s tone might be sharp, but not unbridled. The king did have a grand temper, but so far, showed no sign of letting it loose.

“Any disloyalty to you is worthy of punishment. What eats at my craw is that whoever hired these ruffians— and I would dearly love to know who that scoundrel might be—sought to punish a woman whose only crime is concern and love for her father. She means you no harm, my liege. Lady Eloise merely seeks a fair hearing on the charges.”

The king huffed. “I have all the proof I need of Sir John’s culpability in the contents of one missive.”

Edward tossed back his wine, set the goblet on an ornate, highly polished table, the legs of which were footed in the shape of lion’s paws. A table worthy of a king, as were the rest of the sitting room’s furnishings. No matter how wealthy and powerful the king, however, Edward was still a young man, his heart and head swimming with hopes and dreams and fears of failure, like every young man, like Roland himself.

Unlike Roland, Edward possessed the royal power to force his hopes and dreams into reality, and to sweep his failures under a concealing rug. Edward hadn’t ordered Sir John’s immediate execution, and Roland found himself wondering why.