Chapter 19 #2
With a whimper of panic she grasped one of Hengar’s feet and dragged him back into an empty stall, grateful he was a small man. She pushed straw over him. She ran back out and scattered fresh straw over the blood. It still looked clear as sunlight to her guilty eyes.
Her heart was beating so hard and fast that she feared at any moment it would burst. She pressed into a corner as the voices grew louder. Two stable grooms walked past and went into the next shed.
Madeleine almost fainted with relief. But what was she to do? She would already have been missed at the meal with no excuse for her absence. When the body was found, it would be clear she had killed him. Perhaps the reason for her deed would come out, and Aimery would be dragged down to ruin.
She should hide the body more securely but couldn’t think where. Her teeth were chattering and her brain felt like wool.
Aimery. Aimery would help. She flung more straw over the bloody patch, restored her skirts, and slipped furtively out of the stables. Once away from her crime, she stopped in a quiet corner in the bailey to calm herself.
She began to think. She should have tried again to get the knife out. Perhaps she should go back.
Her teeth started to chatter. She couldn’t.
“Are you all right?”
She started, and turned to see Aimery nearby. Her throat seized up and she couldn’t speak the words to tell him she was a murderess.
He came no closer. “You don’t look well. Is it because of what happened earlier?”
Madeleine shook her head. His attack seemed eons ago.
“I think it is. I’m sorry for it, but this situation is driving me mad. If I ask the queen to release you from your duties, will you go?”
Where could she go now? She shook her head again, needing his comfort. When he made no move toward her, she flung herself into his arms. He caught his breath, then held her tight, but she wanted it tighter, tighter, to drive out thought. She clung to him, trembling.
“What is it? Madeleine, has someone hurt you?”
“No,” she gasped. “Kiss me!”
When he hesitated, she grabbed his head and kissed him with bruising, desperate force. After a startled second he responded.
Madeleine pressed closer. He lifted her against him. She opened her legs and wrapped them around him as if she could take him into her despite their layers of clothes.
He broke the kiss and looked dazedly at her.
“Yes,” she said. Her vow had been washed out in blood, for she was now his accomplice in treason, and she needed him.
“I won’t be able to stop,” he warned.
“I won’t want you to.” She tightened her legs and pushed at him. “Please . . .”
“Our room . . .” he said unsteadily.
“No!” she cried as frantically as she had earlier, but objecting now to any delay.
He shuddered, looked desperately around, then carried her, still wrapped around him, into a wall-chamber full of barrels. He sat her on one and forced her legs to release him.
Madeleine slumped back against the rough, cold wall behind her and closed her eyes, but she saw only blood, visions of blood. She opened them to see his face, flushed with desire but troubled. His hands trembled as he pushed back her skirts, as he ran them up her thighs.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
She was trembling as if she had a fever. She didn’t know if it was lust or guilt, but she needed him to drive it away. “Yes, yes. Fill me now!”
His hands left to adjust his clothing, then he was in her. They groaned in unison. Madeleine clung to him, feeling the tremors shuddering through him, too. They must be rocking the very castle walls.
“Wrap your legs around me again, love. Hold me tight.”
She obeyed, using her legs to demand a fiercer loving. It wasn’t enough. She could still see the blood. “Take me,” she gasped. “Harder!”
“Mad . . .”
“Harder!” she cried. “Harder!”
He smothered her desperate voice against his chest. “Hush, love. Hush.” But he responded to her urging and pumped into her, hard and fast.
At last it came, the oblivion she sought. He drove her beyond speech, beyond thought, plunged her into an abyss of violent passion.
When reality returned, he had her cradled in his lap, safe in his strong arms. He was stroking her hair and singing a gentle, lilting song. He had never been so tender before, and she had so longed for it. Now it shot pain through her heart like an arrow.
“What is that song?” she whispered.
“It’s a shepherd’s song to a lost lamb he’s found.”
Madeleine moaned. “I . . . I always wanted you to sing just for me . . .” She broke into bitter tears.
He held her and stroked her and murmured anxious soothings until the tears stopped. Madeleine had never felt so cherished in her life, but it could not last. She would have to tell him. Still burrowed against his chest, she whispered, “I’m damned.”
His hand stilled. “By the Rood, Madeleine,” he said with careful patience. “Is all this over that silly vow?”
“It wasn’t silly,” she protested hopelessly, “but it doesn’t matter anymore.”
His hand stroked her again. “Good. So what has damned you?” It was lightly said, indulgently.
She came out of hiding and faced him. “I . . . I’ve killed someone.”
He merely looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”
Madeleine suddenly realized the time that must have passed, and pushed out of his arms. “Oh, Mary. We’ve got to do something. I left your knife in him!”
He was staring at her, but more seriously now. “Who? What have you done?”
“Hengar, the forester. He was going to tell the queen you were Golden Hart. I killed him.”
“With my knife?” he said alertly. “Where?”
“In the stables.” She grabbed his hand. “Come on. We have to get the knife out!”
He caught her and held her. “Are you sure?”
“I know when someone’s dead,” she snapped.
He shook her. “Then we had best be careful. We can’t go charging down there. For one thing,” he said with a little smile, “we have just missed the meal.”
Madeleine looked around and realized people were leaving the hall. “Oh, Jesu.”
“I think that’s the least of our problems. Our excuse is that you were not feeling well. I’ll escort you to our chamber, then I’ll go and see to the corpse.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No.”
After a look at his face, she accepted it and let him steer her gently up to their room. Occasionally he gave a word of explanation to someone, that she was sick.
Madeleine felt strangely apart from everything, as if she were made of mist. It wouldn’t surprise her to be invisible. She looked at her hand and was astonished that it still looked solid and strong.
He sat her on the bed and poured wine for her, forced her to drink it. She came back to reality, and misery.
“They’ll burn me,” she said.
“Not unless you’re married to him,” he responded, almost as if he was finding the situation amusing. “Tell me exactly where you left the body.”
She described it. “What will you do?”
“Get the knife. Once that’s gone, there’s nothing to connect him to you.” He kissed her gently, then shook his head. “One day I’d like to make slow, beautiful love to you in a bed, Madeleine.”
“I’m a murderess,” she protested.
He grinned. “I’m coming to like the thought that you killed for me, love.” He rose to his feet. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He stopped and returned to grasp her chin. “You are not, under any circumstances, to confess your sin while I’m gone. Do you understand?”
She thought of arguing. She needed to tell the world of her wickedness, to be punished and absolved. But she nodded.
Once he had gone, she lay back on the bed. Fight it as she would, the memory of Hengar’s death throes haunted her. He had been a horrible man, but that gave her no right to kill him, not even to save her husband.
Then she thought of that ferocious lovemaking and pressed her hands to her face. It had been as if she were possessed by devils. And he was disgusted with her. He wanted ordinary, orderly lovemaking, and she forced him to that.
The queen came to see her. Matilda was not angry at their absence, but roguish. “I send your husband to find you and lose the pair of you. Do you intend to feed on love?”
Madeleine knew her burning face told all. “I beg pardon, Your Majesty.”
Matilda chuckled. “What it is to be young and lusty. I will have some food sent to you. You obviously need your strength. Where is Aimery?”
Madeleine swallowed. “He had to go and check on one of the horses.”
“I’m sure he’ll be back right speedily, so I will leave you in peace.”
The food came, but Madeleine could not face it, though she drank steadily of the wine. Dorothy and Thierry both came to see if they were needed and were sent away.
At last Aimery returned. “We have a problem.”
Madeleine sat up. “Someone found the body?”
He nodded. “Yes. And the knife was already gone.”