Roselynde (37 page)

Alinor glanced up at him mischievously. "But I will wager

I could make you forget. No, Simon! Do not push me off." She
giggled. "Indeed, I wish to answer."

"Then do so, and quickly."

"Listen, beloved. I misread what the Queen said to me
because—because I was not so old or so wise as I thought I was. What I saw
among the ladies and their gallants sickened my mind so that I began to doubt
all men."

"There I was a fool. I should have warned you." He saw
the set of Alinor's mouth and, even though her eyes and half her face were
hidden, he guessed at her thoughts. "I was never a part of that. I do not
say I am a monk, but whispering in comers and sighing love songs is not my forte.
I cannot sing. Besides, my shoes are too big. Had I been taken unawares, I
would be too easily known."

That made Alinor laugh, as he had intended. Also the lightness
somehow lessened the revulsion with which she had regarded cheating for the
sake of the sick excitement it generated.

"I would like to hear you sigh a love song," she teased.

"You are more like to hear me box your ears. Will you come to
this answer you say you wish to give me?"

"As I said, you made me unhappy, and the Queen saw that and questioned
me straitly. I avoided what I could, but her eyes are keen and she saw easily
where my heart was. She said she could not help me, but if it did not keep you
from your duties with her, that I could deal with you as I pleased and that
what was impossible to avoid might easily be forgiven. You came from her
chamber with such joy, I thought she had said the same to you. Forgive me, my
love, that I thought you wished to have it both ways—that like those others you
could have me and yet my lands could be free to the Queen's use."

Had Alinor expected any reaction, she would have been
disappointed. Simon neither spoke nor moved.

"I should have realized that she did not mean what I
thought," Alinor continued.

"Are you so sure?" Simon asked in a rather constricted
voice.

"Yes, I am," Alinor lied cheerfully. "She knows you
and must know you would have no part in such a thing. She has spoken to me
often of how you have not been fittingly rewarded for your loyal service, but
she has so many differences with the King on the right management of the realm
that she dare not press for small matters."

"That is God's truth," Simon sighed. "If Longchamp
continues as he is going there will be bloody war in England."

"Yes, and the King will hear no ill of that toad. But Simon,
if it should come about that I needs
must
marry, and in haste—"

"And how," Simon asked with dangerous softness,
"could such a thing come about?"

Alinor decided it would be safer to advance circuitously. "My
family was seisined by William the Bastard," she said ingenuously.
"There is nothing in our charter to say an heir must be born in wedlock.
To the firstborn male, it says, or, failing male heirs, to the females of the
blood,
in perpetuum."

Simon knew better than to argue with Alinor on any subject pertaining
to her estates; nonetheless, he said, "You jest!" Such a charter
could lay endless heartache. A boy's peccadillo with a serving wench could
throw the succession into doubt. If an heir did not have to prove legitimacy,
the estates might become entangled in endless trouble.

"I do not jest," Alinor said indignantly, and then began
to laugh. "The first Lord of Roselynde was a bastard, you see. That was
not important, but so was his favorite son. And my grandfather was a very near
thing, I understand, although the priest was said to have finished the service
in time. You need not be so worried. It is not a thing generally known, but it
could be used if needed."

"No!" Simon said explosively, and then more quietly,
"I have never taken a thing by stealth in my life—good war practice
excepted—and I will not now, not though every part of me, brain, soul, and
body, cries out for you. Do not torment me, Alinor."

"No, I will not. Mayhap things will grow easier between the
King and the Queen. At least she knows now and has not driven us apart."

Alinor was quite content with her afternoon's work. She had never
expected Simon to agree, nor did she expect that he would ever deliberately
make her pregnant with the intention of forcing a marriage. All she had wanted
was to plant the idea that the Queen would not disapprove or be disappointed in
him if their passion ran away with them. She was in no terrible hurry. If it
seemed that marriage would be possible in a year or two, or even if a promise
of it could be obtained for a further distance of time, she would be satisfied
to wait. If possible Alinor would not press Simon into an act that, no matter
how well it turned out, he would always regard with shame and regret. There was
no reason, however, to forego the limited joys allowed them.

"The sun is going down," Alinor remarked, "and it
is getting colder and colder."

Simon cocked his head at the tent. "The women seem quieter
now. Do you want to go in?"

"Not till they forget, if ever they do, that I knocked Lady
Margaret endwise. She was just about to cast herself upon the deck and begin
drumming her heels."

"Yes," Simon said drily, "I heard you putting a
stop to it." He reached up to unfasten his cloak. "Here, take my
cloak."

"Do not be so silly," Alinor replied. "You will
freeze. Besides, I want a warm body, not a cold cloak. Do but open it, Simon,
and take me inside."

He began to laugh. Sir Andre had warned him about Alinor's
persistence. Unless she was convinced a thing she wanted was wrong, she would
continue to strive toward it, backing and filling, seeming often to yield, but
always gaining inch by inch until she had her way.

"You will get no good of it," he warned, nonetheless
loosening the folds so that Alinor could slip under.

Quick as a striking snake, her cloak was open also and slipped up
over Simon's shoulders under his own so that they were pressed breast to
breast. She tilted her head back, her eyes light and laughing. "I will get
warm," she murmured, sliding her arms up around his neck and pulling his
head down. "For now, beloved, that will be sufficient."

When the Queen and her party arrived at Nonancourt, they found
that the core of the trouble had preceded them. Longchamp, Durham, Lord John,
and a concourse of barons and bishops were already in residence. The Queen was
livid, quite literally, Alinor told Simon nervously.

"I thought she would die before my eyes."

"I am not surprised. She does not roll the floors and bite
the rugs like the Angevins," Simon replied, "but she does not lack
for temper. It was all arranged that we should leave earlier so that we could
stop to settle Lady Alais into Rouen and still arrive with or before the
others."

A horrified pity filled Alinor's eyes. "Oh, Simon, what is
wrong with the Lady Alais? I could almost believe from her behavior that she
was King Henry's mistress. And do not close your face upon me. I do not run
about speaking of this to others. I would not in any case. I am so sorry for
her. Besides, the Queen says it is not true."

"She would have to say that if her son is to marry the
woman."

Alinor glanced around to be sure no one was in hearing distance of
the embrasure in which they sat. This was not so safe a place as the deep wall
rooms of Roselynde, no more than a five-foot hollow provided with a window with
raised stone seats on either side. They had retreated to the spot after
breaking their fast even though it was bitterly cold, because of the little
privacy it afforded. Most of the Court idlers were grouped at the ends of the
room where the fires roared. Those who passed turned politely away and did not
linger. At the moment, no one was near.

"He will not marry her," Alinor said very softly, but
not in a whisper. She had learned early, when she was a naughty little girl
planning mischief, that whispers carried far and wide. Even if a hearer could
not make out the words, the sibilant hiss betrayed that secrets were being
told. "Messengers have already gone to Sancho of Navarre. Berengaria is
the King's choice."

"How know you this?"

"I wrote the letter. Simon, part of the Queen's rage is that
Longchamp has tampered with her people. I am not sure how she came to know of
it, but she has her ways. I write letters now that I wish I did not write. Let
us not speak of this here. But I cannot understand Lady Alais. Why does she not
protest her treatment. Even if she were guilty, she would do better to put a
bold face on it. Yet she was happy to be left in Rouen. No, not
happy—relieved."

Simon looked fondly at Alinor's animated face, her eyes sparkling
with readiness for combat. Could she have instilled some of her spirit, perhaps
Alais would have married Richard. God works in mysterious ways, Simon thought.
For Isobel of Clare, it was a mercy that Alinor meddled. For Alais of France,
it was probably far better that she remain in her luxurious confinement. And
for me? he wondered.

"Likely she was relieved," he said, and smiled at the
disbelief in Alinor's face. "My lady, you can brook no restraint, but
think of a pet bird long caged. Sometimes it will not even come out when the
cage is opened, and, if it does, often it dies of fright. Alais has her life.
It is smooth and pleasant. She has neither worry nor fear. She does not need to
please anyone but herself."

"No worry? What of her lands and her people so long in the
hands of strangers? If I—"

"Oh, you!" Simon laughed. "You would eat me whole
for the sake of one hide of land or one serf's hut."

"The situation is not likely to arise," Alinor said with
dignity and then grinned. "But it is fortunate that the Queen bestowed my
wardship upon the one honest man at Court. The number of courtiers might have
been sadly diminished by all the accidents that befell dishonest wardens of my
lands."

"Alinor," Simon said uneasily, "you laugh but you
are not jesting. That would be murder."

"Nonsense! If a thief came to my keep, I would set my dogs
and men to pursue him and kill him. A thief is a thief to me, and the high born
worse than the low because they are more rapacious. Which brings us to the most
rapacious of all. Since he is here before us, what are we to do about
Longchamp?"

Simon's face grew as hard as Alinor's. The softness disappeared
from his eyes, which seemed to grow lighter and brighter. "It is too late
to go about the matter as I intended. I will put it to the touch in open court
this day."

"Oh, Simon, that is like to be dangerous to you."

"What of that? I do not fear the King's spite. If he is
angered, Richard will say it to my face. He is not forgiving, but he is not one
to keep anger hidden, either. A bold front is more like to please the King than
whining complaints."

"I do not mean the King. He is just enough and knows you
would not cheat him."

"Longchamp, then? What is there to fear in him?"

Alinor drew a quick, exasperated breath. "Because he is
little and crooked and cannot wield a sword or mace, you think he is nothing.
He is the more deadly for his weakness. There are ambushes that can be laid
upon the road, and there are knives in dark corners."

"Tush! I have lived with that all of my life. I was not so
dearly beloved by the powers I went to overthrow as King's justiciar. More than
one tried to rid himself of me in those ways. Yet I am here."

That was little comfort to Alinor. There was always a first time
for success, and in assassination it was the last time for the victim. She knew
it was useless to argue with Simon about that, and she was reminded of the
Queen's constant reiteration of taking the bitter with the better. If you chose
a brave man, you could not expect him to be overcautious. It was useless to worry,
either. Simon was no fool. She had laid a hand on his arm before and, under the
velvet sleeve, felt the fine mesh of a mail shirt.

"There are also letters full of lies," Alinor pointed
out.

"Do you think they would be fewer or more loving no matter what
I did?" Simon asked cynically.

"Not unless you yielded all, and licked his spittle, too. I
did but wish to remind you that worms are often venomous."

"That is true, although I have no need of reminders. Now I
must remind you of something. You must hold your tongue. If all goes well, your
lands will be well shielded from Longchamp in that you and I and Sir Andre will
have the King's word from his own mouth before many witnesses. Longchamp may
still try to encroach, but Sir Andre can wage war if he must with a clear heart
and mind. Since he is armed and stocked for war, owing to your overardent
suitors, I do not think Longchamp will attempt him seriously."

"Why should I hold my tongue? Do you think it would be wrong
to thank Lord Richard for his kindness?"

"You may say what you will if we gain our point. If we do
not, then you must hold your tongue. No, Alinor, listen!" Simon said
urgently as he saw the mulish jut of her little round chin. "If we both
drown together, as we nearly did once because of your stubbornness, all will be
lost."