Chapter 21 #2
She wanted to so badly. “You mean no harm to the queen or the babe?”
He was shocked. “Is that what you think?”
She bit her lip. “It was all I could imagine. I’m sorry.”
He turned away, and it was as if a wall grew up between them. “Am I a fool for wanting your trust? Am I going to have to prove my honesty afresh every day of my life?”
“I had reasons for doubting you,” Madeleine protested. “You can’t deny that.”
“You had my word that I was loyal.” He looked back at her, and she thought it was all right. But then he merely said, “Get aboard,” and walked away.
Madeleine prayed to be in York, where perhaps they would be able to talk matters through. Where she would finally be sure he was loyal. Where he was going to make long, slow love to her in a bed.
If he wasn’t in chains.
The queen was less restless, though still like a surly bear. Adele hovered, sure the birth was imminent, but there was little for Madeleine to do. When Matilda wanted companionship, it was Lucia she called for.
Aimery, too, had little to do now other than try to anticipate problems. Though it was not a time to talk of dangerous matters, for there was no privacy, Madeleine saw an opportunity to clear away some misunderstandings.
She worked her way to his side. He took her hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Madeleine felt her heart tremble.
“I wanted to tell you about Stephen,” she said.
“Stephen?”
“Why I didn’t marry him.”
His lips twitched. “It wasn’t just that you showed good taste?”
She put on a frown. “You were furious at the time. With reason. You were angry that I’d broken my word.”
His thumb rubbed against her hand. “True. So, why did you not marry de Faix?”
Madeleine still found it hard to speak of. “That night . . . When the king summoned me . . . I went to the stables, but the king wasn’t there. Stephen was.”
“I’d guessed as much, but I’m surprised it turned you so violently against him.”
Madeleine looked out over the water. “He wasn’t with a woman.”
“He wasn’t?” Aimery was clearly waiting for more.
Madeleine looked around and leaned closer to hiss, “He was with a man!”
Aimery burst out laughing. “By St. Peter! The cunning rogue!”
“Stephen?”
Aimery shook his head. “William. I’m sure he knew Stephen’s tastes when he made him one of the suitors. We never had a chance, did we?”
Madeleine looked at him anxiously. “Do you still regret it?”
He squeezed her hand gently. “Not at all. In fact, at the time I was tasting bile at the thought of you in Stephen’s arms.” He kissed her knuckles, then said a little reluctantly, “If we’re to tackle our problems head on, I think we should speak of the time when the Baddersley people were whipped.”
“Why then?” asked Madeleine in puzzlement.
He played with her fingers for a moment. “The story was you asked for the whippings.”
“What!” But then Madeleine hesitated. “I suppose in a way I did. But, Aimery, it was only to save them all from maiming. My uncle was in a mindless rage.”
“Ah.” He sighed. “And the people heard you begging for the whipping, but could not understand enough French to understand why. I think I should beg your pardon for having believed that of you.”
“I confess, I am hurt. Did it seem likely that I would act in such a way?”
“Not until I saw you watching.”
Madeleine looked a question and he said, “I went up to the castle while the floggings were going on. I saw you watching the whipping of the children.”
Madeleine shuddered at the memory. “I felt so helpless,” she recalled. “It had never crossed my mind that he would flog the children too. I tried to stop him, but it was no use. I felt the least I could do was watch . . .”
He gently wiped away a tear that had escaped onto her cheek. “Dear heaven, what a tangle we’ve been in.”
“And is it over?” But then she remembered Aldreda, Odo, and d’Oilly’s man. And her lingering uneasiness about his promise to help Hereward. Should she ask him about that now?
“It is at least good that we are in harmony at last.” He touched her lips with his finger and she knew that he too longed to seal their new accord with a kiss. This wasn’t the place, however, and soon he was summoned to discuss some matter with the boatman.
Soon, however, they would be in York. Madeleine wrapped new hope around her and settled to watching the passing countryside.
This was a fertile river valley and villages were strung along the river trading route like beads.
The land looked lush and prosperous, but she noted signs of war.
One hamlet was a burned, abandoned shell.
It could have been destroyed by king or rebels, but that hardly mattered.
Homes were gone, crops destroyed, and doubtless people had died. She hated war.
Matilda insisted that they pull to the shore at midday for food and a chance to walk. Aimery wasn’t happy about the plan, and put Fulk’s guard on full alert. Everyone ate while strolling about, trying to get the kinks out of their legs. Madeleine saw Aldreda, and on impulse went to speak to her.
“How are you faring, Aldreda?”
The woman flashed her a distinctly unfriendly look. “Well enough.”
“What of your daughter? Who is caring for her?”
“Hengar’s mam. Frieda’s grandam.” She smirked and added, “After a fashion.”
Madeleine decided to take a risk. “I heard that Frieda was not Hengar’s child.”
“Whose else would she be, Lady?”
Madeleine wouldn’t name Aimery. Taking a shot in the dark, she said, “Hereward’s?”
Aldreda paled. “No good that,” she said, “him being an outlaw and all.”
Madeleine scented blood. “But is it true?”
Aldreda stuck her chin up. “Frieda is the lord’s child, and all know it.”
Hengar had used those words. “What do you mean, the lord’s child?”
“I know what I mean,” said Aldreda slyly, “and so do all who have any business knowing. A lord’s child must be gently raised and married well. As Frieda will be.” She moved her shawl slightly. Madeleine gasped when she saw the distinctive amber knob of her own dagger, the murder weapon.
“What is that?” she asked, but she knew she had betrayed herself.
“You recognize it, lady,” said Aldreda. “You know what it is, and what it did. If Frieda doesn’t get her due, I’ll tell the world who killed my husband, and why.”
The meat pie Madeleine had just eaten rebelled in her stomach. “You have no proof.”
Aldreda bit into her own pastry with relish. “There’s proof in the hand that wielded the knife, and I know from the sheriff that Aimery was strangely missing when my Hengar died.”
Madeleine struggled with this new twist. Aldreda thought Aimery had killed Hengar, and she was threatening not so much to accuse him of murder as to expose him as Golden Hart, with his skin mark as final proof.
Madeleine looked at the woman and hated her. “How can you do this to someone who was once your lover?”
Aldreda shrugged. “I wouldn’t rightly call him a lover, a young lad like that. It were over in a minute. But he has a duty to Frieda, and to me. He stole my man and I want another.”
“I will arrange a marriage for you,” Madeleine said quickly, “and one for Frieda in time.”
“Nay, Lady. I know my worth. Frieda must be raised a lady as is her right, and married well. And I want Aimery.”
Madeleine stared at her. “You want to force him to your bed?”
“I wouldn’t mind, though there are others. No. I want a Danelaw wedding with Frieda acknowledged as his child.”
Madeleine thought she was going mad. “Those days are past, and Aimery’s Norman. He doesn’t hold with such things. Anyway, you admitted the child could be Hereward’s.”
Aldreda regarded her with dismissive superiority. “You don’t understand. How could you? But Aimery does. I’ll have my due, or he’ll be brought low.”
“What keeps you safe?” Madeleine asked coldly. “After one death, what does another matter?”
Aldreda backed away, but she answered boldly. “My husband was a fool. I suppose he went straight to Aimery and asked for silver for his silence. And got steel instead. I’ve told another. Killing me will do no good.”
Madeleine felt sick. “Whom have you told?”
Aldreda smiled. “I’m not likely to tell you that, am I? You just tell your husband to be more reasonable and set me and Frieda up in the manner we’re entitled to, and to acknowledge the new babe, too. Both my children will be the equal of yours.”
Madeleine wondered how she kept from screaming. “You have spoken to Aimery already?”
Aldreda nodded. “Over-proud he is. Don’t like the fact I have the upper hand, but he’ll come to it, or he’ll come to ruin. We women are more practical, aren’t we?”
“And what of your accomplice?”
“I’ll handle him, never fear.”
Madeleine rebelled against the woman’s smug spite and wondered if Aimery had felt the same. If they gave in, they’d have her around their necks forever. She summoned all her dignity. “You would be well advised, Aldreda, to take what we are willing to give and disappear. We would be generous.”
“Perhaps, Lady, but I’ll have my full due.”
Madeleine walked away. What in Mary’s name were they to do now?
Was Aldreda’s accomplice Odo? That would be a disaster for sure.
She looked for Aimery, but he was busy organizing the reloading of supplies, and there was never, ever any privacy.
She could have screamed, but she pushed back her fears.
Nothing dramatic was likely to happen yet—except the queen giving birth. She returned to Matilda’s side.
Lucia stretched her back and winced. “I confess, I’m weary of traveling. I’m staying in York even if Guy is not there. He can chase after me for a change. If, that is, Northumbria is secure. I honestly don’t understand how William keeps his hold among so many enemies.”
“Aimery says it’s because they won’t pull together.”