The White Lord of Wellesbourne (13 page)

“I must ask you something,” he
said quietly. “I would appreciate an honest answer.”

“Of course.”

“How much do you know about the
politics of Richard and Henry?”

Her confusion did not ease. It
only grew. “I know that they are bitter enemies and that both lay claim to the
throne, and that this war between York and Lancaster has been going on since
the days of my grandfather.”

His smile broadened. “Very
simply, and very well, put.  Whom does your uncle support?”

“Richard, as you do.”

There was no hesitation in her
answer. Gazing into her eyes, he sensed total truth, or at least, what she
believed to be the truth.  John said that the maid had mentioned that
Alixandrea had no knowledge of the subversion going on. It was the one thing
that truly vindicated her. He’d seen some smooth liars in his time. Had the
maid not unknowingly supported Alixandrea’s lack of knowledge of the situation,
he could have had a devastating circumstance on his hands. He was very glad he
did not.

He began to caress the fingers in
his warm palm. “I want you to listen very carefully to me. But know this before
I begin; I do not lie, and I would certainly never lie to you. What I am about
to tell you is total truth and you will accept it as such.”

“Without question.”

He took a deep breath, wondering
where to begin. “I did not mean anything I said tonight. We are indeed going to
be married, as planned. But I had to do what I did for a very good reason.”

She visibly relaxed.  But there
was bewilderment coupled with the relief. “I do not understand. Why would
you…?”

He put up a hand so silence her.
“It would seem that somewhere in the past few years, your uncle has become
loyal to Henry Tudor. I do not know how, when or why, but my brother was
witness to a very interesting exchange between your manservant and your maid
this afternoon. Many things were said. Many treacherous things.”

Her eyes widened. “Jezebel? And
Strode? What
kinds
of things?”

“Evidently, your maid is spying
on you,” he told her. “She reports back to your manservant about what is going
on between you and I. She reported to your manservant this afternoon that you
and I were to be married at Vespers, whereupon your manservant told her that he
must give the information to the Whitewell army so that they would know to
attack when the church bells rang.”

Alixandrea was beyond surprised.
“Attack whom?”

“Wellesbourne, I would assume.”

She stared at him. Then, she
slowly shook her head. “Your brother must be mistaken,” she said softly. “I
have known Strode and Jezebel for many years. They are faithful and loyal
servants.”

“Aye, but to whom? To you? Or to
your uncle? Alixandrea, if your uncle has influenced them, it is no reflection
upon you. But it is clear that he is using you for some seditious purpose. What
was originally proposed as an alliance now appears to be meant for
infiltration. If what my brother heard is correct, and I have no reason to
mistrust him, then your uncle means to destroy Wellesbourne.”  

Her mouth was hanging open in
shock.  She was staring at him so intensely that he wasn’t even sure if she
understood him.  But after a small eternity, she closed her mouth and her eyes.
It was almost as if she could not bear to look at him any longer.

“You are certain of this?” she
whispered.

“As certain as I can be without
discussing it with your servants first-hand.”

“What are you going to do?”

He sighed. Most fighting men were
able to remove their emotion from decisions. Matthew had never been able to do
that. Although he had perfect judgment and always went with his instincts,
still, there were times when his emotions could cause doubt. He’d lived all of
his life with the fact that he was an emotional man.

“I will do nothing.”

She looked at him. “Nothing?”

He shook his head slowly. “For
the moment. I will get to the heart of this subversion in my own time and in my
own way.  A perfect example was tonight; I told you the things I did so that
your maid would go running back to your manservant and report to him. And
that’s exactly what she did.”

“How do you know?”

“She left your room very shortly
after I did, did she not?”

“She said she was going to get me
ale.”

“I can say with a great degree of
certainty that she is not in the kitchens right now.”

Alixandrea suddenly understood.
She was sickened “She is with Strode?”

He nodded slowly. “Undoubtedly
telling him that the wedding has been cancelled.”

The revelations were nearly too
much take.  Alixandrea suddenly smacked the arm of the chair with an open palm.

“She is spying on me,” she
hissed. “How could she do this? I thought she loved me.”

“Who is to say why people do what
they do? But now that you know, you must be very guarded with her. What she
knows, your manservant knows. And what he knows gets to the army and, more than
likely, your uncle and whomever he is allied with.  And because you are to be
my wife, you will be privy to valuable information. I have the confidence of
the king. Your uncle and his allies are more than likely counting on this to
serve their cause.”

She was ill with the realization.
He made it sound very logical and she could not deny that Jezebel’s behavior,
at times, could make her believe this. Suddenly, many things made sense.

“When I was young, when my uncle
and your father were in discussions for the marriage contract, I remember there
was a man who came to Whitewell often.” She thought back to that time, hazed by
the years gone by. “He was short, with silver hair and pocked skin, and my
uncle seemed to cower to him. It was very strange. Although my uncle called him
John Law, I heard them talking privately once and my uncle called him Sutton. I
did not think anything of it at the time, but now it seems to make sense. They
used to discuss politics and marriage endlessly. After the marriage contract
was brokered, I never saw the man again.”

Matthew listened to her closely.
His expression never changed. “If your recollection is true, then your uncle
has been involved with Tudor much longer than I suspected.”

“Why? Do you recognize the man I
described?”

“Possibly. Sir John Sutton is a
very close ally of Jasper Tudor. He is married to a daughter of Lord Clifford,
also another Lancastrian supporter. Did he also walk with a limp?”

“He did.”

“Then it was indeed John Sutton.”

Alixandrea gazed at him, a sense
of overwhelming guilt sweeping her. “Then it seems that I have brought
something dark and rebellious into the House of Wellesbourne. No wonder my
uncle was so eager to marry me into this household.”

His smiled returned and he patted
her soft hand. “Had I known what prize I would be acquiring, I would have been
equally as eager.”

She looked surprised. “Why would
you say that? I have brought doom to your family. You should send me home right
away.”

“Are you mad? It would give your
uncle the right and opportunity to wage war against me. Besides, I have no
intention of sending you anywhere. You belong to me and I intend to keep you.”

“Are
you
mad?” she softly
snapped back. “Do you not understand that something horrible has followed me
here? I will not be the cause of your downfall, Matthew. I would rather die.”

He was genuinely touched. He did
not know why he should believe her, but he did.  Reaching out, he gently
touched her cheek.

“Trust me when I tell you that I
will not fall,” he said softly.  He did not tell her of Strode’s specific
instructions to kill the White Lord; he thought that might be too much
information for one night. “You and I will be married and I will deal with this
insurrection from within my ranks. Wellesbourne soldiers are loyal to the core.
Four hundred Whitewell men cannot contend with a thousand Wellesbourne men.”

“But what about Jezebel and
Strode?”

“I am not nearly as concerned
with Strode as I am with your maid. She hears all, sees all. Say only what I
tell you to say in front of her and nothing else. You must detach yourself from
her. Perhaps if I were to position Caroline in such a way that she would act as
your lady in waiting, we can displace your maid so that she will be
ineffective. As for your manservant, I will deal with him appropriately.”

“How?”

“When the time is right.”

He seemed decisive and calm about
the situation. His manner eased her tremendously. Above all of the bewilderment
of the disclosures, Alixandrea realized one thing; she was very glad they were
still to be married. 

“Thank you for… well, thank you
for clarifying things,” she smiled weakly. “When you came in earlier to
announce that we would not be wed, I will admit that I was disappointed. I am
so glad that it was not the truth.”

His features softened. “I am
truly sorry to have caused you any sorrow. But it was necessary.”

“I see that now.”

“I am simply sorry that you seem
to be a pawn in something that should not involve you.”

“I have faith that you will guide
me through it.”

He kissed her, then. He could not
help it. He knew it was not proper and that he needed to get out of the chamber
before the maid returned, but he was very glad that things were well again
between them.  Before the kiss became too heated and he lost control, he pulled
himself away.

“Come along, now. My father and
brother are waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

He held a hand out to her,
pulling her to her feet. “Us, of course. There can be no marriage without a
bride and groom.”

Her eyebrows rose. “We are still
to be married tonight?”

He led her to the door. “My
father and brother brought the priest back from Stratford this afternoon.  I’d
hate for the man to have come all this way for nothing.”

“But what about my servants?”

“Can you keep a secret?”

The light of excitement began to
gleam in her eye. “Of course.”

His smile returned and he took a
moment to study her closely. His gaze moved over her face, memorizing every
curve, every line.  He would do it every night until he could close his eyes
and envision her perfectly, this woman he would be married to.  He still found
it unbelievable.

“I am afraid that I do not have
the luxury of infinite time this night,” he said quietly. “Because of the
situation, I will more than likely be up all night watching Whitewell’s army
for signs of insurrection.  But have no doubt that this wedding will indeed
take place and our time to come to know each other, as husband and wife, will
indeed come.”

Alixandrea’s response was to
return his smile. She frankly had no quick answer; anything she could think of
sounded too naïve or too embarrassing. It was a surprise conclusion to an
evening that had been full of them.  With Mark, Caroline and Adam Wellesbourne
as witness in Adam’s smelly, cluttered bower, The White Lord of Wellesbourne
became husband to the Lady Alixandrea Terrington St.Ave Wellesbourne.

His wife sat up all night,
watching him on the ramparts from her small chamber window.

***

It
wasn’t a garden as much as it was an overgrown yard filled with dead, dried
things, bugs, and other sundry creatures.  Upon close inspection, however, one
could see that it had once been very well planned and lovingly maintained.
There was even a small pond in the middle of it for all manner of water
plants.  A bench and massive bronze sundial sat near the north wall. Aye, at
one time, this garden had been a marvelous place.

Alixandrea had found Audrey
Wellesbourne’s patch quite by chance. She had been trying to escape the dogs
that someone had let back into the hall. When the beasts had followed her out
into the yard and she had attempted her escape back inside again, the door
jammed. Stuck, with several happy dogs closing in, she made a dash for a small
gate build into a dividing wall just to the west of her position.

The gate had been old and rusted,
but the latch had lifted and she had been able to escape the onslaught of
canines. Now, sad doggie faces looked in between the slats of the iron grate as
she stood in the middle of the dead garden.

It was close to the noon meal as
Alixandrea gazed back at the dogs, wondering how to get out of the enclosure
without being mauled.  Smells from the kitchen wafted on the breeze and she was
hungry. She’d fallen asleep just before dawn, having spent the entire night
watching Matthew’s blond head from her bower window.  She was somehow fearful
that the Whitewell soldiers might somehow create a ruckus and she was worried
about her new husband.  She could not help but feel that this was all her
fault, and in that guilt lay protectiveness.  It wasn’t as if the White Lord
could not fend for himself, but if her uncle’s soldiers were going to create
havoc, she would make it her business to try and stop them, foolish as those
thoughts were. She could not let such a thing happen without a fight on her
part.