Where Love Has Gone (36 page)

“Yes, in my saddlebag It’s probably in a
sadly wrinkled state by now.”

“No matter. Under the circumstances, Henry
won’t care if you are slightly untidy. I will order hot water, so
you can have a bath. Remain here until I make the arrangements.
Desmond, come with me.”

The men left and Elaine, after another glance
out the northern window, sat upon one of the stools and leaned her
shoulders against the big table. She was almost asleep when Royce
returned.

“Come,” he said, picking up the saddlebag
Desmond had left behind. “Your bath is ready, and I think you need
to sleep.”

“What about King Henry?” she asked.

“Desmond and I have spoken to him. He is
warned, Elaine, and that was the purpose of your frantic journey,
was it not? Henry wants to see you later tonight. You have time
enough to bathe and then sleep.”

He lifted the tapestry and she followed him
through the arch and into his adjoining bedchamber. The first thing
she noticed was a tub filled with water, a large bowl of soap, and
a pile of crisp, linen towels. The second thing she saw was the
bed. Draped in deep green wool, large and comfortable looking, it
seemed to her to offer sanctuary from all of her recent
worries.

“You will be undisturbed here until it’s time
for you to attend King Henry,” Royce said.

“Where is Desmond?”

“Paying a call on the barber, after which he
will visit the bathhouse. He will join us later.”

Though his tone was mild, Royce’s eyes were
sharp, missing no shadow of emotion on her face, nor any trace of
concern in her voice. Elaine had the oddest sensation that he knew
what had transpired between herself and Desmond. But, Desmond would
not talk about that – or would he? If Royce insisted, demanded,
issued a direct order, would Desmond admit having made love to
her?

Left alone, Elaine stood uncertainly for a
moment, too weary to think what to do next. Deciding to follow
Royce’s advice to bathe and then sleep, she removed her soiled
clothing and stepped into the tub, which was big enough for her to
sit down. This time, she had enough water, and enough soap, to wash
her hair. While the hot water eased away the day’s aches she
scrubbed herself from head to toe. The soap was scented with tangy
rosemary and the pleasant fragrance cleared her mind as she washed
her body.

When she was finished she pulled from her
saddlebag her clean shift and stockings, a pair of soft, indoor
shoes, and her extra dress. The blue wool gown was as wrinkled as
she expected. She shook it out and draped it over the end of
Royce’s bed, smoothing the creases as best she could. Then she
pulled on the shift and crawled into bed, feeling lost in its great
size…

“Elaine, wake up.” Royce touched her
shoulder. “I’ve brought some food for you. It’s almost time for us
to go to King Henry, so you ought to dress now.”

“The sky is dark. What time is it?” she
asked, stretching and .yawning.

“Nearly midnight.”

“King Henry keeps late hours.”

“Tonight, he does. When you are dressed,
collect your belongings and bring them into my office. Servants
will be coming in here to clear out the bath water and we don’t
want them to know I’ve been hiding a lady,” Royce said with a
mischievous grin.

“Think what my mother will say if she learns
of it,” Elaine responded with a laugh. “Under these unusual
circumstances, I am not at all ashamed to sleep in your bed, but
Lady Irmina would doubtless weep and wail and rend her clothing if
she knew.”

“She will tear her clothes only if she thinks
she can cajole her beloved Sir Lamont into providing her with
several new gowns to replace the one she has destroyed,” Royce said
dryly. He lifted the tapestry. “Don’t be too long, my dear.”

Still smiling a little, Elaine shook her head
as Royce disappeared into the adjoining room. She and Royce had
seldom spoken aloud about Lady Irmina’s character flaws, but they
both appreciated the foolishness of her mother’s shallow, frivolous
way of life.

Gowns, jewels, and a handsome young husband
had quickly eased Lady Irmina’s extravagantly displayed grief over
the death of her first, much older spouse, who had left her a
handsome widow’s portion of land and portable wealth. While Elaine
and Aglise had wept for their father, Irmina danced and laughed and
flirted, then sent her daughters away from court shortly after her
remarriage to Sir Lamont.

Royce’s raised eyebrows and carefully bland
expression during the wedding celebrations had told Elaine he
believed as she did, that her mother wanted the beautiful Aglise
gone so she’d have no competition from a daughter whose youth and
freshness could only emphasize the mother’s age.

Privately, Elaine had been glad to go. She
had worried about Aglise being at court, where noblemen too often
were lusty predators eager to seize upon innocent girls whose
parents were too involved with their own pleasures to protect their
daughters. Elaine had never imagined her sister would fall prey to
an older man’s lust on an isolated island far from court.

Beauty could be a curse, and deadly
dangerous, as Aglise’s sad end proved. Elaine was glad to know she
was far from being beautiful.

Not wanting to delay Royce, she ate while she
dressed, munching on bread and a few pieces of herb-flavored,
roasted fowl, finishing with a small bowl of early berries and
washing the meal down with a cup of delicious Rhine wine. Royce
always ate well, and she regretted not having time to savor every
bite, or to linger over the wine.

She said as much to him when she entered his
office with her saddlebag in one hand and her muddy boots in the
other. The warm smile he bestowed on her almost convinced her that
the badly wrinkled blue gown and the hair she had worked into a
single, thick braid were the latest in court fashion.

“You look thoroughly rested,” he said.

“Clean, at least,” she corrected, the remark
making his green eyes twinkle. “But, hardly suitable to meet a
king.”

“The gift you and Desmond have given Henry
will far overshadow your simple gown,” Royce said. “Thanks to the
two of you, he will not only live to see the sun set tomorrow
evening, he will also continue to be duke of Normandy. And that, to
him, is a gift beyond price. Normandy is his father’s original
holding. If the French were to seize it, the loss might well
destroy Henry. He’s not a young man anymore, you know. You and
Desmond, together, have prevented great harm to your liege
lord.”

“I hope so. But, Royce, we still have to
learn who here at court is spying for the French.”

“I have several possibilities in mind,” Royce
told her. “My duties involve identifying and watching such
people.”

“Why don’t you just arrest all of the people
you suspect and put an end to the spying?” Elaine spoke without
thinking. After a moment of reflection, aware of Royce looking at
her with an interested expression that suggested he was following
her train of thought, she added, “If you imprison all the French
spies whose identities you know, then King Louis will have to place
other spies here. And those new people may do great harm before you
can learn who all of them are and set a watch on them.”

“When I retire,” Royce said, “I will suggest
you to King Henry as my replacement.”

“Please, don’t. I don’t like being devious
and I couldn’t bear sending good men like Desmond and Cadwallon
into danger. But I do thank you for sending them to Jersey. Without
their help, I’d still be wondering where Aglise is, and King Henry
would be in grave danger.”

“I had long suspected there was a French spy
planted in Jersey,” Royce said. “Your letter provided the perfect
excuse for me to send two of my people there to investigate. That’s
how devious I am, my dear; I’m a man who will turn the saddest
event into a clever opening for my spies.”

“Nothing you can say will ever convince me
you were not deeply concerned about Aglise.”

“True enough. At first, I feared she had
gotten herself into trouble with some man, since she was much like
her mother – too beautiful for her own safety and too frivolously
inclined to be as wise as such beauty demands. I’m sorry to say
that. I did love Aglise.”

“I know you did.” A tinge of bitterness crept
into Elaine’s voice as she continued. “You loved her as an honest
godparent should. Lord Bertrand, on the other hand, was a most
dishonest foster parent. By the way, has the
Daisy
arrived?”

“Not yet. I’m not overly worried, though.
Captain Piers is a fine sailor. He’ll see his ship safely to port.
After which, I have a few choice words to say to Bertrand.” Royce
gestured to the door. “Shall we go?”

“I thought we were waiting for Desmond.”

“I assigned him to see to a minor detail,”
Royce said. “Desmond will join us shortly.”

Royce always knew more than he revealed, so
as Elaine walked beside him through the darkened castle to the
king’s private chambers, she wondered once again if he had learned
about the night she had spent with Desmond, and if he was trying to
keep the two of them apart.

Henry I, king of England and duke of
Normandy, was forty-nine years old. A sturdy man of medium height,
his thick dark hair was liberally streaked with silver and his face
bore the lines of a hard-lived life. But his eyes were still bright
and, from the quick look Elaine had of him as Royce presented her,
he appeared to be in excellent health.

“My lord.” She sank into a low curtsy before
him.

Henry came forward at once and took both of
her hands to raise her until she was directly facing him.

“My lady, I asked to meet you in private so I
could personally thank you for your loyal concern for my life and
wellbeing, and for the safety of my lands,” he said. “I am sorry to
learn of the death of your sister. Royce has told me how she was
killed to prevent her from revealing what she had learned of the
plot against me.”

“Yes, my lord.” Not being certain what, or
how much, Royce had said to the king, and unwilling to damage
Aglise’s reputation, Elaine contented herself with a smile and no
further comment.

“Has the ship
Daisy
come to port yet?”
King Henry asked Royce.

“No, my lord. I hope to see her at Caen by
tomorrow.”

“As soon as the ship docks, I want Lord
Bertrand brought to me, no matter where I am,” King Henry
instructed. “He can no longer continue to hold Warden’s Manor in my
name. The man cannot be trusted to display the strength of
character required for such a position. Nor, from what you’ve told
me, did he maintain adequate control over his wife’s activities.
When all is said and done, even if he is proven innocent of treason
against me, Lord Bertrand is still gravely at fault for his lack of
attention to his duties, and for his reprehensible seduction of
Lady Aglise. For that, he will be punished.

“Now, what of you, Lady Elaine? Have you seen
your mother and told her of your sister’s death? Will you stay in
her apartments while you are in Caen?”

“We intend to speak with Lady Irmina as soon
as we leave you, my lord,” Royce intervened before Elaine could
speak. “As for Elaine, I have invited her to stay in my rooms,
which will be unused, since I expect to be working with you and
your advisors for most of the night as you decide how best to deal
with the threat of a French invasion.”

Surprised, Elaine looked sharply at Royce.
She had assumed they wouldn’t see her mother until the following
day, and she knew nothing of his plan for her to remain in his
apartment.

“Very well,” King Henry said. “Royce, I will
see you again shortly.”

It was a polite dismissal. Elaine and Royce
bowed and departed. Once the single guard outside the royal chamber
had closed the door, Elaine turned to Royce.

“Where is Desmond?” she demanded.

“With your mother,” he answered. “We should
join them. I’m sure Lady Irmina is growing impatient.” He took her
arm to lead her down the corridor.

“Why doesn’t King Henry have extra guards?”
Elaine asked as they hurried along. “If you don’t know yet who the
man is who will attempt to kill him, shouldn’t he be better
protected?”

“I promise you, he’s perfectly safe,” Royce
said. “I have selected half a dozen of my best men to watch over
him. If you were to try to enter his rooms again at this moment,
you would be stopped.”

“I would?” Elaine looked around. “I see only
the one guard.”

“He is all you are meant to see,” Royce said.
“Trust me; I would never put King Henry’s life at risk.”

“I do trust you. However, you may be putting
my
life at risk by taking me to see my mother at this late
hour.”

“Better late at night than early in the
morning,” Royce said. “Surely you haven’t forgotten that Lady
Irmina seldom rises before midday?” He paused at a familiar door,
waiting until the man-at-arms posted there opened it.

“Royce, isn’t this your office?”

“So it is.” Royce smiled at her. “Courage, my
dear. All things pass away in time, even unpleasant
interviews.”

He preceded her into the room. While her view
was still blocked by his body, she heard her mother complaining.
Elaine sighed; she had almost forgotten how high pitched and
irritating Lady Irmina’s voice was.

“I have been held here for hours. If Royce,
detestable man that he is, wants to speak with me, let him visit me
in my own apartments, at a decent time of day.”

“Good evening, Lady Irmina,” Royce said from
the doorway.

“It is not evening, it’s the middle of the
night, and I want my bed. Sir Lamont is waiting in it for me.” A
swishing of skirts indicated that Lady Irmina had whirled to face
Royce.