Chapter 4 #2
What would she do, though, if he threatened her brat? Would that break her? He was immediately ashamed of that vicious thought.
"Lowick?" he asked.
"Has left." Unlike her familiar clear voice, it came out huskily and he saw her swallow to clear her throat.
"Did he want you to leave with him?"
"Yes. But I am no use to him without Heywood."
Then why? Why give yourself to a man who valued you so little? Did he lie to you? I thought you were impossible to lie to.
"Did you want to go?"
She held the child a little closer. "I was afraid to stay," she whispered.
"But you did stay."
With quiet composure she added, "I am your wife and this is my home."
Galeran looked away at the anxious women, grasping a moment to think.
One face scowled rather than trembled. Jehanne's sturdy young cousin, Aline, was there.
He'd forgotten she'd left St. Radegund's convent to bear Jehanne company during his absence.
What had the almost-nun made of all this, and why was she frowning at him?
But then, she had eyebrows that generally gave a severe impression.
His favorite and most intelligent hound, Grua, picked up the mood and whimpered, pressing close. Stroking the smooth head, Galeran wished Aline and Grua could instantly tell him all they knew.
Why had he imagined that his first moments with Jehanne would provide answers? Or any he wanted to hear. She hadn't denied wanting to leave with Lowick, and she'd as good as said that it was only duty that kept her in their home.
Jehanne had always held to duty, guarding her honor as fiercely as any man.
So why had she done what she had done?
Was it simply that she'd thought him dead? Duty would surely demand more evidence than a rumor, and more mourning time as well.
And if she'd truly thought him dead, why had she not married her lover?
Distant noises told him his father was arriving in the bailey, already blistering the castle people in the way Galeran had not. The bellowing voice grew louder as Lord William began to mount the stairs to the hall, still berating any and all for this affront on his family's honor.
Lord William, who blustered and raged but could not stand to see a woman hurt.
Galeran walked back to Jehanne. "Give the babe to his nurse."
Jehanne's eyes widened slightly, but after a noticeable hesitation she obeyed and passed the sleeping child over.
"Fall," he said quietly, and timing it to coincide with his father's entrance, he hit his wife.
It was no playful tap, but Jehanne could have stayed on her feet. For a moment instinct kept her there, bringing a flash of outrage into her eyes, but then she crumpled, hand to reddened cheek.
Her dogs leaped to defend her, but Galeran grabbed her arm anyway. He was mailed. The dogs could do their worst.
Perhaps that's why she snapped, "Sit!"
Galeran began to haul her up, but was stopped from further violence by Lord William's iron grip. "Hey, now, lad, we don't want you killing her, for all she's done."
He broke Galeran's hold on Jehanne and thrust him into the restraining custody of Will and Gilbert. Then he went forward to raise his erring daughter-in-law, berating her, but assuring her that she'd be safe in his protection.
Gilbert growled, "You should have beaten her before Father arrived. You know how soft-hearted he is about women!"
Will said, "For once I agree with Gil. Now that he's promised her his protection, he'll not let you touch her."
"You can get a Church court to impose a penance," mused Gilbert. "Father can't interfere with that. Or when you send her to a convent, order her a daily whipping for a year...."
Galeran let it wash over him. He'd planned on being stopped by his father, knowing the best way to melt his father's anger and get Lord William on Jehanne's side was to hit her.
What sickened him was that he'd found it satisfying to hit her; his move to follow, to grab her and hit her harder, had not been acting.
He sent up a fervent prayer for strength and control.
He shrugged out of his brothers' loosening hold and went over to where his father was scolding Jehanne as if she'd just spent too much at the midsummer fair.
He made peace with her confused hounds, then said, "Enough of that, Father.
I want to talk to my wife in private. I promise not to hit her again. Today at least."
At his tone her dogs weaved between them, as if trying to separate them. Jehanne reassured them and sent them to the far side of the hall, away from their dilemma.
Lord William seemed just as concerned as the dogs, as if he, too, would like to get between them, but he stepped back. "Away with you, then."
Galeran seized Jehanne's arm and steered her toward the solar. He knew his grip was too tight, but his fury seemed to have traveled to his hand and he couldn't control it. The last time he remembered being so unable to control himself was on his wedding night.
It was like his wedding night in other ways too. Pent-up desire simmered in him, threatening to overwhelm at any moment. He was again like a dead tree ready to burst into flame at a spark.
He had every right, too. Every right to throw Jehanne down and enjoy her body. Every right. Even if he were about to cast her off.
He dragged her into the solar, kicked the door shut, and released her with a violence that staggered her. He saw that her face was red and would bruise. Despite his promise to his father, she looked as if she expected more of the same.
He turned abruptly to put the width of the room between them, to rest his head on his arms against the hanging that covered the rough stone wall. "I'm sorry. I seem to be violent today."
"I don't think you need reproach yourself for that." She spoke softly, but every word was clear.
"Such violence serves no purpose."
"That blow did."
He pushed away and turned, leaning against the wall, arms folded. "I wanted to hit you, Jehanne."
"If our situations were reversed, I'd want to kill you."
He looked at her, testing the implications of her words. "Would you indeed?"
Now it was she who turned away, moving to fuss with the hangings around the bed. Their bed. Where she and Lowick had...?
"No," she said. "I wouldn't want you dead. But I'd want you punished. I'd find a way to make you suffer." She turned stiffly. "What punishment, Galeran? Don't play with me."
"What would hurt you most? Beating? No." He was playing with her and wasn't proud of it, but didn't seem able to stop. "To take the babes away, I suppose..."
She stared, turning sheet-white. "Galeran!"
Ashamed, he pushed away from the wall to go to her. "Don't, Jehanne. I didn't mean it—"
"Didn't they tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
She whirled and raced into the hall. Without a pause she picked up a pitcher of ale and hurled it full in Lord William's face, flinging the stone jug after. Fortunately he was still agile enough to duck, and the pot smashed on the wall.
Even over his father's bellow Galeran could hear Jehanne screaming, "Why didn't you tell him? How could you not have told him? "
He grabbed her before his father overcame a lifetime's scruples and beat a woman. "Told me what?"
She was rigid in his arms. Rigid as stone, or a corpse.
The dogs were all around them again, whining.
Lord William wiped his red face with a cloth hurriedly presented to him. "I thought you'd had enough blows for one day, lad...."
"Told me what?"
"Gallot's dead, Galeran," said Jehanne icily. "It was all for nothing. He's dead."
Into the silence Gilbert said, "Don't forget the rest, you frozen-hearted bitch. You killed him to make way for your lover's bastard."
* * *
In the end Galeran ordered his wife into guarded confinement in the small nursing chamber next to the solar, more to protect her from others than to punish her.
He couldn't even begin to comprehend what had happened in his absence and wasn't ready to try.
Days of hard traveling had left him unfit for this crisis, and his poor rest the night before was merely masking exhaustion.
He took refuge alone in the solar, looking sightlessly out of the narrow window.
His firstborn son was dead before he'd ever held him, and some people suspected that Jehanne had in some way caused the death. He'd gathered that much from the cacophony of information before he'd shut it off.
Later.
He'd handle it later.
His tired eyes followed the road away from the castle, into the nearby woods. It drew him, but running away once was enough for any grown man.
He needed sleep but knew his tormented mind would not permit it yet, and anyway, it was only morning. There was a day to get through.
His precious first day home.
With a bitter laugh, he pushed away from the window. He'd have to put his insane, purposeless energy to use and hope activity would drown out half-formed images of a child he had never seen. A child all the people here could tell him of if he asked—
Tears swelled in his chest, more agonizing than a wound....
No. Not yet.
He would not weep yet, for if he began, he was not sure he could stop.
He headed for the door, but halted, looking at an ivory rose in its accustomed place on a small table against the wall. He had to believe it had some meaning for her. Had it sat there throughout his absence, even when she...?
He picked it up, and the cracked petal tilted then fell off. Muttering a curse, he fumbled to push it back into the soft wax that held it in place. Then he froze, holding it in his hand, fighting the urge to crush it, even though the sharp edges would lacerate his hand.
With a deep breath he put it down, even though the petal was crooked. The risks were too great.
He went out to his great chair in the hall and summoned his officers to report on their management of his property during his absence. He didn't make much sense of it, but could tell Heywood had been well cared for.
He couldn't help noticing the way they all looked at him, though. On the faces of some he detected a sneer that said they didn't think he had the balls to handle his sinful woman. That he'd forgive her without a twitch of protest.
Some eyed him warily, however, as if expecting him to burst into berserker rage at any moment.
Either could be right, which is why he'd hit her, to get someone on her side. Galeran's father had sent Will back to camp and Gilbert back to Brome, but he stayed in the keep, watching from a distance in case Galeran turned to violence again.
And Galeran was glad there was someone to make sure he didn't.