Rose (15 page)

The king's smile brightened his face. “Thank you for the reminder that not all is lost.” He brought the queen's fingers to his lips and gave each digit a tender kiss.

Mamie blinked tears from her eyes and looked away. She'd been fortunate to love three husbands, three times. And three times she'd lost her heart. No more.

“So who, then? We need someone strong and valiant.” The queen turned to Mamie. “What about that Templar, Dominus?”

Mamie's breath caught. She did not want Dominus endangered in a tournament. The games could be fatal, if the rules were not followed properly. “Can a Templar fight for the king?”

“No, I do not believe so,” Constance said. “Can you choose someone else from your army?” The princess looked at Eleanor, then Louis and finally Mamie and Fay.

Eleanor lifted her shoulder. “I prefer Dominus. Perhaps an exception could be made this once? He saved my life. I would show him favor.”

“I do not believe a man of God needs such things,” the king dared.

The twitch of the queen's finger gave away her anger, though she smiled and shrugged as if it were of no import.

Constance understood something had changed and reached out to touch the queen's forearm. “I am sure we can have an archery contest, if your ladies would like to participate.”

While Louis's expression closed, Eleanor's opened like a flower in bloom. “How thoughtful you are, Constance. Mamie and Fay are gifted archers, though our Catherine was the best. I think it better, though, if they rest while we are here.”

Louis released a breath, clearly relieved.
Poor man.

“But, Eleanor!” Raymond reached around a tray piled high with sweets. “I wanted to see your ladies in action. From all you've written, they are wonderful.”

Mamie did not miss the stiffening of Louis's shoulders. He'd asked her, after Constantinople, to stop corresponding privately with her uncle.

If Eleanor felt the rebuff, she continued on as if nothing were the matter. “They are magnificent, but they are only two. We need five for the best effect.”

“So you've disbanded your lady guard?” Raymond popped a nut in his mouth and chewed.

“Never,” Eleanor said. “We just don't do performances.”

Constance discreetly rubbed her side. “Will you add new ladies?”

The queen hesitated, as if pondering. She patted Louis on the hand. “My husband would prefer if I did not.”

The king, agitated, rose. “Your ladies were at your side this morning and kept you from harm. Your guard has my undying respect and affection.” He searched the crowd, stopping once his gaze settled on Odo. “I am tired.”

Eleanor noticed and put her hand on his sleeve. “Won't you stay for the dancing? The music? You enjoy the lute.”

“It has been a long day.” He chuckled, the sound hollow. “A long year. I would like to sleep.” Louis turned to Raymond and Constance, offering each a kiss of peace. “My gratitude for the welcome you've given us. I will not forget your generosity.”

“Sleep well, King Louis,” Constance said.

Raymond repeated the wish.

Eleanor stood next to her husband. “I will leave with you.”

Louis leaned over to kiss his wife's cheek. “No need. Enjoy your evening. I know you like to dance.”

The words were cold and dismissive, though he said them quietly enough that Mamie hoped nobody else would hear them.

Now forced to stay, Eleanor said good night.

Later, after more wine, Fay and Mamie alternately dancing with the queen or sitting with her, Eleanor confessed, “Mamie, this is the most fun I have had since . . .”

“Aquitaine?” Fay guessed.

“Imp.”

Fay grinned.

Constance and Raymond danced together on the dais, until Constance yawned midstep. “Pardon me. I am suddenly so tired that I cannot keep my eyes open.”

“When will the tournament be tomorrow?” Mamie asked.

“Not tomorrow.” Constance smiled and shook her head. “I
am an efficient organizer but not that fast. The day after, perhaps.”

Fay said, “We sat with Lady Hortencia during the meal. She told us about a grove near here dedicated to the old goddess Daphne. With a waterfall.”

Eleanor sat up. “I want to go.”

“I thought you might.” Mamie laughed. “We've made arrangements for tomorrow morning.”

Constance brought her hands to her flushed cheeks. “I wish I could join you, but I have much to do to plan the tournament. I will have my steward give you exact directions. Be open to the possibilities.”

“Is there really a waterfall?” Eleanor asked, her eyes bright despite the hour.

“Yes. You must make a wish,” Constance said with a shake of her finger and a grin. “Even the air feels magical. “We will dine together tomorrow evening, and you can tell me about your adventure. It is said that a water nymph caught the eye of the great god Apollo but spurned his advances, so he turned her into a daphne, or laurel, tree. It is a spot for love.”

“As you created a garden for love.” Fay turned to the queen.

Eleanor waved dismissively. “I cannot compete with an ancient
Greek god.”

“Just as well,” Constance laughed, finishing her wine. “Love should not be a competition.”

Raymond, stumbling a bit, took Constance by the wrist. “Come,
mon chéri
, and speak to me of love,” he said. “We will see you ladies tomorrow.”

He waved, and the pair left.

Eleanor chuckled. “I remember a time when he did not seek his bed until dawn.”

“No doubt his pretty wife will keep him there,” Fay said. “Should we, too, seek our chamber?”

“I feel afraid to close my eyes,” the queen confessed in a sleepy voice. “For what if this has all been a dream?”

Mamie gathered their cups and put them on the table. “We are awake.”

“No dreaming,” Fay said. “This has been the best day you've had since Aquitaine.”

“Fay.” Eleanor held a hand out for assistance.

“What? I was going to say that it has been my best day too.”

“Really?”

“No.” Fay laughed. “Not really. Every day is my best day.”

“That is what I admire about you. Your willingness to greet the day as if it were a fresh beginning. No grudges.”

They walked down the stairs of the dais, around the musicians,
and out of the room.

“Grudges do no good.”

“I forget that sometimes.” Queen Eleanor leaned against Fay as they walked together. “I let my pride have its way.”

Mamie trailed a few steps behind, searching the shadows ahead out of habit.

“Mamie?”

She turned at the masculine voice, and to her surprise Dominus
waited for her on a marble-and-wood bench down the left hall. “Go on,” she told Fay. “I will be there shortly.”

Fay nodded, and the two women kept walking.

“Thank you,” Dominus said. “I will not keep you long.”

She quieted her nerves and reminded herself of her own code: no tempting a man to stray from God.

“What can I do for you?” Mamie held her hands at her waist, like the lady of the manor. Polite, aloof.

“I wanted to set a time for us to go to the grove together.” He made to take her hands, then pulled back. “Though I did not say so earlier, I admired your quick wits this morning. You saw the danger and acted. As a bodyguard would do.”

His observation warmed her. That he'd made a point to tell her
really
warmed her. Had he been drinking, to loosen his tongue?

“Thank you. It is my duty to protect the queen with my life,” she said. “I hope you don't mind too much my tossing you into the mix.”

“I am still alive to tell the tale.” He smiled, and her knees trembled.

“Something we can all give thanks for.” The world would be a colder place without Dominus in it.

He gave her a curious look.

“It is nothing,” she said. “Is there anything else, Dominus?”

Dominus hesitated, then gestured her closer. “I have a question that perhaps is none of my concern, but if I may?”

Intrigued, Mamie nodded.

“The queen has trained you ladies to be personal body
guards. I have seen a sampling of your skill. What else can you do?”

His low voice triggered Mamie's senses, and she fought against a wave of attraction. She chuckled, tapping him on the forearm as if he were a normal man. “That is not for you to know, monsieur, but trust me when I say that I have my talents.”

Dominus noticed the slight flush of color inching up the side of Mamie's throat. Her quick breaths caused her chest to rise and fall in a way that made him damn his duties to hell. He'd never been the kind of man who had to have a woman—no, he'd been particular. Mamie teased his subdued libido without even trying.

She breathed out, and he wanted to be her next breath in. Where was his famed self-control? On the battlefield, he'd earned respect for his bravery. His courage. Here, he hid behind a white cloak, unable to touch the woman he wanted most.

“I hope one of those talents is riding after a night of dancing.”

Her lips lifted. “Not to worry, Dominus.”

“What time shall we meet you at the stables?”

“Send a servant to our room when you are almost ready to go. Prepare to wait a goodly time”—she smiled and shrugged—“and then we will be there. Queen Eleanor is not always quick in the morning. I have reconsidered your offer as escort. It is right to have one here in the city. When it was just us on the caravan, I forgot the rules of civilization.”

“Why do I think you did not much care for them before then?”

She folded her hands, pointing her fingers down. Mamie looked like a temptress as she tilted her head. Her green eyes sparkled; her hair fell loosely around her shoulders. When she
smiled, she showed a gap between her teeth. But it was the way her nose, dusted with freckles, turned upward that really did him in.

“You are correct,” she said.

“A fault of mine.”

She laughed out loud, then covered her mouth. “Well, it is good to know our faults, so that we may fix them.”

“Or make them work for us,” he said, wanting to hold her attention. “As I have chosen to do.”

“What other faults do you claim?” She gave him an appraising
look. “In our journey together I have seen none. You do not drink to excess, you ride like a centaur, you are quick to the fray but not hot of temper.”

She'd noticed all that?

“I have plenty, though it pleases me you haven't seen them.”

Mamie shook her head and took a decisive step back, fanning her face with a hand. “I should go. It does not do to keep the queen waiting.”

He wasn't ready for her to leave, so he asked another question
he immediately regretted. “Are you happy in her service?”

She looked surprised. “
Oui
. Queen Eleanor is an amazing
woman. An intelligent leader with a compassionate heart.” Mamie
bit her lower lip and gazed directly into his soul. “And you? Are you content with God?”

He laughed, which shocked her into laughing too.

“God and I have an understanding,” he said.

She crossed her arms, and he wondered if he'd revealed too much. But God help him, he did not want her finding another man's arms for solace or passion. She had to see him and want him as much as he craved her.

He could not fault her for her passions. Could he lay blame at her feet for not wanting another husband? Any man would be unworthy of all she offered. Though his hands were tied behind his back, she was free. She saw him as forbidden, despite his desire.

How could he get out of his damned oath? God would
understand, but there was no way on this good earth that Bishop
Clairvaux would forgive the trespass.

“
Bonsoir
,” she said, turning with a last lingering look before walking away.

Her hips swayed with feminine enticement. Mamie reached the stairs, not once looking back. If she had, she'd have seen him staring at her like the lovesick boy he'd accused Everard of being. He stayed there until the last red coiled locks were out of sight, then exhaled, not realizing he'd been holding his breath.

Mamie of Rou was everything he'd ever wanted in a woman,
with a few things added for good measure.

He clenched his fists at his side. He could not in good conscience even talk to her, as it broke the Templar rules. Dominus did not understand why any man would give up female companionship forever. He had practiced abstinence when need be, but the idea of never lying with a woman again?

Non.

His brothers had taken care of propagating the family seed. He did not need a wife or children. But a lover? Mamie reminded him of how long he'd gone without the soft comforts of a woman's arms.

Now was not the time to falter.

He had a duty, a mission.

God help him.

Mamie woke early, anticipating the outing to the grove. And seeing Dominus, in the flesh. He'd visited her last night as she'd slept, proving his prowess as a lover. There was a part of her that was willing to chance damnation to find out if her dreams had any merit.

“What are we wearing today, my queen? Our split skirts, which have been cleaned and mended as if by sprites?” Fay held her skirt up close to the window. “I swear this was ruined beyond repair.”

Larissa, holding an assortment of the queen's new gowns gifted by her uncle, sniffed. “It's a miracle. I was hoping to never see those skirts again.”

Laughing, Mamie slipped from the bed she'd shared with Fay. The door between the rooms was open so they could all prepare for the day together. Ribbons, laces, and perfumed scarves covered every surface.