Chapter Four
“Have I ever asked this of you before, my lord?”
“You have not.”
“Then I would hope you would take me seriously when I ask that you reconsider assigning me to this task.”
“Of course I take you seriously, Garren. But you have only been at Framlingham one day. How do you know this mission is impossible?”
“You must trust me when I tell you that it is. I know my limitations and I am telling you that I believe this mission will fall into serious jeopardy.”
“So you have told me repeatedly. But what you have failed to tell me is why.”
Garren sat in William Marshal’s solar, gazing at the old man with the yellowed eyes, wondering how he was going to explain this to him. Months in the making and he was running from his assignment like a coward. He’d never run from anything in his life.
Outside, the night was becoming early morning. He’d ridden for hours to get from Framlingham to Chepstow and he was exhausted. But he’d never felt so strongly about anything in his life, so much so that he was willing to yank William Marshal from bed and beg him to reconsider the task at hand.
“Suffice it to say that, for various reasons, it is not something I can do,” he muttered. “There are too many factors….”
“Rubbish,” the Marshal snapped softly. “Tell me the truth. What has you spooked like a skittish mare?”
Garren looked at him, wondering if he should tell him the truth, but knowing in the same breath that he would sound like a complete idiot.
Still, the Marshal deserved to know. Garren was the best agent he had and had served flawlessly up until this point.
He knew he could confide in William but was reluctant to do so. With the truth came admission.
“Send someone to infiltrate the servants,” he said. “I need support on this task. I fear that my attention may not always be where it should and I need assistance that I can depend on should I be indisposed.”
William studied him a moment, a wise man with many years of living and loving behind him. He suspected he knew what the problem was. “Is it your bride?”
“Aye.”
“You have expressed reservation about this betrothal from the beginning. What is it that still disturbs you?”
Garren took a deep breath, staring into the fire, trying to think of the right words. They came to him in pieces. “I am not sure. There’s something about her….”
“Is she unpleasant?”
“Nay.”
“Fat? Lazy?”
“Nay.”
“Then what?”
Garren was hesitant. “From the onset, I feared the woman would be a distraction,” he said quietly.
“I have never been comfortable with women, you know that, and I saw the entire marriage element as unnecessary to this mission. I could have infiltrated the House of de Rosa another way, for instance, as a bachelor knight searching for a house to pledge my fealty.”
The Marshal nodded patiently. “You suggested that, as I recall.”
“I did. But you were convinced the marriage aspect was the most convenient and secure.”
“It still is.” He threw up his hands. “Garren, where is this leading? I do not understand what the problem is.”
Garren sat a moment, trying to piece together his thoughts. He finally stood up and began to pace. “Derica de Rosa is no ordinary woman,” he said softly. “If I were the marrying kind, she is someone I would choose to marry.”
“And that is a bad thing?”
“Aye,” Garren whispered. “I have known the woman all of a day and already she haunts me.”
“In what way?”
“In a way that makes me feel as if I cannot breathe every time I look at her.”
The Marshal was silent, contemplating what Garren has so haltingly told him. “Then I think I understand,” he said quietly. “At first you feared being married to a woman you hate. Now you fear being married to a woman who takes your breath away and you fear that your loyalties will be torn.”
“Something like that.”
“I am sure this is a foolish question, but do you think you could grow to love her?”
Garren looked sick. “Christ, I don’t know,” he hissed.
“All I know is that the very moment I lay eyes on her, one set of fears was replaced by another and with as much attraction as I feel towards her, I am afraid that I cannot guarantee the sanctity of this mission. If she is a distraction to me now, God only knows how I will feel about her a week, a month or a year from now.”
William fell silent as the long moments ticked away. “I am not sure how we can break this betrothal, Garren.”
“Therein lies the confusion,” he said, agitated.
“I don’t want to break it, for all of the wrong reasons.
But I also do not believe I can perform to the best of my abilities, which will greatly compromise me and the success of this task.
Yet, I am sworn to the king and to my vows as his servant.
Never, in all of my years of service, have I faced a situation like this and I find it bewildering. ”
The Marshal stood up from his chair, moving his weary body across the floor as he contemplated Garren’s situation. As he saw it, there was only one way to deal with it.
“You are my greatest asset,” he said. “You have never failed me. Yet I have also never known you to act like an addle-brained schoolboy, which is exactly what you are doing. Is this woman so attractive to you that she could ruin everything you have worked to achieve over the past eighteen years? Is she more important than your king and country? Is she so important that you would let it all slip through your fingers to see John Lackland on the throne, running the country into the ground? In one day, do you give your loyalties to a woman you don’t even know simply to sate your lust? ”
He was bellowing by the time he finished. Garren remained characteristically cool, yet at the same time, he felt ashamed.
“It is more than that, my lord.”
“What more could there be?” he shouted. “By this foolish behavior, you have already compromised your position. Do they, in fact, know where you have gone? Don’t you think they will discover that you’re missing, run off liked a frightened child?”
“They know I am gone. I told Bertram that I had business to attend to. He did not ask what it was, and I did not offer. All they know is that I shall return sometime in the next couple of days and the wedding is set to take place on the sixth day of this month.”
“Of course it will take place,” William hissed.
“This is what we have worked for these past months. Now, pull your head together; otherwise, we are all dead. Is this clear to you? Stop allowing yourself to be led by your loins and think with that clever mind I know you have. This woman is a tool of your trade and nothing more.”
Garren’s jaw ticked. “You are correct, of course.”
“Indeed I am,” William calmed. “Garren, I am not unsympathetic, but this entire conversation is ridiculous. You’re a knight in the service of the king.
Anything else is secondary, including any personal feelings you may have.
While I appreciate that you are communicating these concerns to me, my answer is the same – you have a job to do.
Do it, and do it well, and perhaps when this madness is finished, you and Lady Derica may have a chance at some manner of life together. She will be, after all, your wife.”
Garren smiled ironically. “How much of a life can we have knowing I married her to betray her and her family? My sole purpose is to destroy everything they believe in.”
“You can’t seriously expect me to believe that it worries you.”
Garren could see that the Marshal was hardening.
Perhaps the honesty aspect had been a mistake.
He shook his head. “It does not. It was merely an observation.” It was time to make the long ride back to Framlingham and he would waste no more time.
“Thank you for your attention, my lord. I am sorry to have disrupted your sleep.”
“You did not,” William replied. “But I will do one thing for you; I will send someone to infiltrate the servants at Framlingham. Perhaps another set of eyes and ears is a prudent move and can be great assistance to you.”
Garren wanted to leave. He felt foolish for even coming, but the Marshal lay a hand on his broad shoulder in a rare gesture.
“Do not be ashamed of what you are feeling, Garren,” he said quietly.
“We have all had moments of lust and fear when it comes to a woman. I know you, and I know what you are capable of. I have nothing but confidence in your abilities to see this through. All of this foolishness about Lady Derica shall pass.”
Garren could only smile weakly. He hoped the man was right, but on the other hand, he hoped he wasn’t.
*
When she realized he wasn’t going to look at her, Derica hung her head and focused on her food.
The great hall of Framlingham was lit with tapers as the family and senior soldiers dined on a great pig stuffed with apples and nuts.
Garren had arrived an hour or so before the evening meal, much to Derica’s delight, but he’d barely said a word to her since his return.
He sat next to her on the dais, wine in hand, making tight conversation with Bertram.
No one else would talk to him. They all sat, glaring at him to various degrees. Derica had no idea why, after he had left her chamber, he had become so cold towards her. He had seemed genuinely sincere and friendly during their visit, but in the presence of others, he ignored her.
“Eat, pigeon,” came the deep voice beside her, “Your food is growing cold.”
Derica glanced up at her uncle, Hoyt, clad in a gown that was lavish and expensive.
The rouge on his cheeks was too bright and he smelled of strong perfume.
She’d long since gotten over the shock of him thinking he was a woman; in fact, at times, he was very comforting in an odd sort of female way. He was like a great, protective nanny.
“I am not hungry,” she pushed her trencher away.
Hoyt put it back in front of her. “You must eat. You must maintain your strength for… for….”