Rose (37 page)

Eleanor looked them over. “You look magnificent. But bringing weapons might send the wrong message.”

“You are the queen.” Fay shrugged. “We protect you.”

Mamie nodded. She had her dagger strapped to her inner arm, out of sight, and she had another small knife at her waist. Eleanor did not understand how dangerous her uncle was, but Mamie did. And she'd made sure to tell Fay too. Blinded by his charms and his strength, Eleanor justified his rash behavior as necessary to retain power.

She was not here to fight right or wrong. She protected the queen.

They walked in procession to the Ivy Room, ten minutes late. Eleanor wanted all eyes on her, to take stock of the room and who stood where.

“I was beginning to wonder if you would arrive,” Raymond said, his voice tight with disapproval.

Eleanor paused, meeting his gaze. “I am a queen, Uncle. It is fortunate I came at all.”

Silence echoed around them and Mamie perused the room, moving her head as little as possible. Louis, Jocelyn, Constance, Odo, Thierry, Bartholomew, and Everard? She couldn't help but look for Dominus.

She hoped for all of their sakes that he was out of the
room—on the balcony, to be exact. His loyalty was to the bishop
and the patriarch. A neutral witness.

“Ever the competitor, Eleanor,” Raymond said with a rueful laugh. “I see you came prepared to do battle.”

“Here I am,” she said, dipping her head.

“Come. Stop being so formal. I asked us all here today to discuss the Crusade.”

“We have worried this subject like a dog a bone. I am tired of it.” The queen led them slowly toward the couch saved for her. Not next to Louis but closer to Raymond. Constance's face was inscrutable. Bo was not around, which indicated that Constance expected trouble.

Eleanor walked slowly, Mamie and Fay on either side, Larissa at her train. Mamie was careful to maintain a neutral expression and avoid direct eye contact.

The nobles had all stood, waiting for Eleanor's arrival. She paused by the empty couch and sat down. Everyone else sat too.

Constance kept her gaze on her hands, folded in her lap. Mamie saw that her victory, sharing a couch with her husband, seemed weak after Eleanor's show of power.

“I would offer refreshment?” Raymond gestured to the servants
in the back. “Wine. For everyone.”

“I brought my own,” Eleanor said, gesturing toward Larissa. The handmaiden used a sharp eating knife to peel the wax and open the bottle. Next she took a cup, wiping the inside with a freshly pressed linen square, before pouring the ruby liquid inside. She took a sip, waited, then handed it to the queen.

“What is this?” Raymond demanded.

Eleanor remained calm. “This is my favorite wine. I had a thirst for it.”

King Louis's thin nose turned red. “Eleanor. Is this a game?”

“No game, my dear husband. I have been ill twice now, and I wish to keep my health.”

“Is it possible you are—?” Constance asked, pressing her belly.

Eleanor glared at Thierry and Odo, who hovered behind the king like skeletons. “Non.”

The king exhaled, tugging at his thin beard. “Can we please get on with this charade?” He looked at Raymond with a hard expression Mamie had never seen him wear before.

The servants passed out wine as Raymond spoke to the gathered
nobles. Though Fay and Mamie were each noblewomen, in this event, they were the queen's guards and would drink later.

“This
charade
is about Edessa,” Count Jocelyn said. “My city, overrun by Turks.”

“You should have held onto it better, then,” Eleanor said.

Jocelyn held his tongue. Mamie applauded his will—if he had not, she would have sliced it from his mouth.

Raymond put his hand on Eleanor's shoulder. Mamie looked at him, down at his hand, and back at him.
Move it
, she thought.

Looking flustered, he did.

If he was under the impression that she was charmed, he was mistaken. He'd stopped her on the stairs, complimenting her flushed cheeks and heaving bosom after she'd run up the steps. She'd sickened as he'd caressed her hair. Mamie was immune to Raymond's power and wished she could make Eleanor see her uncle for the villain he was.

Odo caught her eye. She gave a barely perceptible nod. They would talk afterward to discuss his meeting with the queen.

“Edessa is held by the Turks. I have information that their leader, Nur ad-Din, is living in the city next to it, Aleppo.”

“Aleppo is smaller,” Commander Bartholomew said, put
ting his hands behind his back and looking like an officious toad.

“Easier to take?” Thierry asked.

“I know a secret way inside,” the commander said.

“Aleppo is not Edessa,” Jocelyn countered, but Mamie could see they'd rehearsed this before. This was being played out for King Louis and Queen Eleanor. Angry, Mamie hoped the queen was aware of the deception.

“I say we take advantage of the commander's secret passageway, grab Nur ad-Din from his bed, and hang him from the ramparts. We control both cities then.”

Ah
. Mamie ground her back teeth. Perhaps this was being
played out for the king alone. If Aleppo and Edessa were avail
able, there would be one city each for Jocelyn and Eleanor. Unless Eleanor was innocent, and the other city was for Bartholomew?

“Louis, with your army we can make this a safe Christian state. But I need your help, my friend. You are family now.”

Eleanor winced.

King Louis brushed off Odo's warning hand.

“I have said it once, and I will say it again. I am going to Jerusalem, with the bishop's blessing. I have written approval to move forward on this Crusade without risking more men in Edessa.” He threw his hands in the air. “And Aleppo? What are you thinking, Raymond? To rule all Outremer?”

Raymond shouted in outrage, while Constance sucked in a sharp breath. Eleanor stayed very still, which worried Mamie.

“Bishop Bernard of Clairvaux, along with Patriarch Aimery, have assured me of safe journey with complete provisions offered by Antioch. We leave for Jerusalem in three days. My wife and I will need enough food and supplies—”

“No,” Eleanor said harshly. “No, Louis.”

Thierry started to stand, but Odo pushed him down. The king drew himself up, posture stiff. “No?”

“I am not going with you. Raymond has offered me sanctuary.”

“For what?” The king stepped forward.

Eleanor met his gaze, unflinching.

Mamie's belly knotted. She thought of the voice in Daphne
and the choice Eleanor was to make. Was this the queen's destiny?
Or was she making a huge mistake?

“I want to dissolve our marriage.”

The words resounded around the hall like the quiet after a cannon boom.
Dissolution of marriage?
Mamie exchanged a glance with Fay. Her fellow guard was the color of spoilt milk. Larissa cried, hiding her face in the linen square from the basket.

The king, stricken with betrayal and grief, fell to his knees. He bowed his head. Odo, in the first act of kindness she had ever witnessed from the man, put a hand on the king's neck, offering solace.

Eleanor, perhaps realizing the severe consequences of her words now that they were said, crossed her ankles primly. “We are married within the confines of consanguinity.”

“We had a special dispensation for that. From the pope.” Louis looked up, eyes red. He loved her. It was plain for everyone to see.

Tears welled, and she dashed them away. “You yourself wondered if this Crusade was cursed, Louis.”

He rose, a man injured. Betrayed. Meeting Raymond's eyes, the king shrugged. “I will be leaving tomorrow, taking my men. All of them. I am Duke of Aquitaine by marriage. Make sure we are properly supplied. You can keep the queen.”

Eleanor gasped. “I wounded him.”

“Did you think you wouldn't?” Constance asked, her voice like ice. “You were never poisoned by my hand, but it is not difficult to see how you may have angered someone close. Louis, my condolences.” She got to her feet. “Raymond. If you are a smart man, I suggest you come with me. Now.”

The king, shaking and ill, remained mute. Thierry glared daggers at the queen, while Odo seemed to draw in on himself. They left, Constance and Raymond at their heels.

Mamie had to reassess the princess's power. She'd chosen to wield it lightly before, but now? The rules of the game had changed.

No doubt tired of the rumors of an affair between uncle and niece, Constance would not want Eleanor in the palace or even nearby in Edessa.

Jocelyn was the next to go, his eyes bright. Bartholomew fell into step at his side.

Alone in the Ivy Room, Mamie and Fay waited in silence with their queen as Larissa sniffed. Eleanor finished the wine in her cup, then passed the bottle back to Mamie.

“Well,” she said. “That went better than I expected.”

Mamie tilted the bottle, drinking deep.

“Pass it,” Fay warned. “What do you plan next, oh mighty one?”

Eleanor laughed, the sound brittle. “Constance had a point. I do not have a lot of friends here.”

“I can't imagine why,” Fay drawled.

Mamie stole the bottle back, drank, returned it to Fay, then went in search of another bottle. The servants had disappeared, knowing what was best for them, no doubt. Mamie went to the balcony and poked her head outside.

Dominus waited on the bench. His eyes, so blue, so filled with compassion, let her know he had heard everything.

“The olive trees?” Mamie whispered. “I will get away when I can.” Because it was Dominus, she let him see her tears but blinked quick to stem the flow.

She came back in to find the queen and Fay nearing the door. Trying to smile, she opened it farther while shielding Dominus.

“You should come out for fresh air,” Mamie said, hoping to warn the knight.

“You are hiding your tears,” Eleanor said. “There is no need.”

Dominus scooted onto the roof as Fay, Eleanor, and Larissa came out to the balcony. Each woman had her own bottle of wine. Fay handed one to Mamie.

“To a new life,” Eleanor said, tears running down her cheeks.

The women drank. And drank.

Dominus waited in the olive trees, holding the proof: written correspondence between Jocelyn, Bartholomew, and Raymond regarding the rebellious attack on Aleppo. Though he was no longer officially a Templar, he wore the brown robe from the Templar House. It was easier to play the part for a while longer.

He liked the anonymity of the brown robe. Dominus could be anyone. Secular knight with the Templars or just a nobleman without a name. After hearing the queen's public declaration for a dissolution of her vows, he now understood what had happened earlier between the patriarch and Odo.

He'd witnessed Aimery leaving the private meeting with the queen. That must have been when she'd asked him about a possible dissolution. No doubt she had pointed her royal finger at the king's zealous advisors for keeping them apart.

Dominus was surprised the patriarch hadn't had Odo drawn and quartered.

Of course the patriarch disapproved, but Eleanor was right in her knowledge of the law. She felt strong enough to go ahead
with her plans without the patriarch's blessing. Dominus happened
to know she would not have the bishop's either.

Church bells rang. Supper.

Not long after, a thrashing came toward him from the path. A deer? A bobcat?

A giggle.

His temptation came up the path and broke a branch getting through the olive trees. She saw him, smiled, and burst into tears. “We have a plan.”

Mon Dieu
. “You do?”

“We will go to the patriarch and demand our queen's freedom.
With our swords. Me and Fay.”

“That is not such a good idea.” He held back his smile, imagining the patriarch's surprise as two drunken women broke into his chamber.

“That is what the queen said, before we put her to bed. I'm supposed to be in bed too.” She winked, the liner around her eyes smudged. “I would rather be with you. You leave tomorrow with the army. I”—she hiccupped—“I'm staying here.”

He thought of the other letter in his pocket, the one he'd had time to digest. “I am not going to Jerusalem.” He would never ask his temptation to give up her freedom to join him in hell. Byronne, to be exact. The stress of it had killed Meggie.

“I never cared about Jerusalem.” She snuggled up against him. “Do you have any wine?”

“No. But I know where to get some.”

“Don't go.” She ran a thumb along his jaw, just above his beard. “I cannot stay long. The queen needs me. She wants to be free of Louis. Constance isn't happy about Eleanor staying here. Fay and I are going to be busy keeping her safe.”

Aleppo was the city up for grabs, once the Christians got Nur ad-Din out of it.

“You should kiss me,” she said, staring at his mouth.

“Mamie, I don't think—”

“That is your problem, monsieur. Too much thinking.” She tapped the side of his head.

Her mouth was warm and soft, and she tasted of dark red wine. “No more thinking,” he said, caught in her web. He pulled her as close as he could, feeling her breasts tight against his chest. She sighed, kissing him in little sips.

“Too many clothes,” she whispered. The giggles disappeared, and Mamie's emerald eyes seemed circled in gold. “I love you, Dominus.”

“I knew it.” Hearing the words was a bitter victory, knowing they could not be together.

“I know we have no future. For now? Love me?”

“I will always love you.” He kissed her once more, needing her as much as she wanted him. “You are drunk, Mamille. I am not the sort of man who takes advantage of a lady.”