Chapter 11 #3
"They get hungry at this age," Jehanne said, and Galeran heard anxiety in her voice. Would she ever completely trust him with the child?
"Will you be able to travel?"
"Of course. Feeding her is easy, and her appetite should settle again soon. Why?"
"My father is going to pledge to Henry. He travels south within days. I said we'd go with them."
"Why?" She'd tensed, but kept the question mild.
"To put our matter before the king. We need it settled."
He could see she feared this as much as he did. But not to act was just as dangerous.
Donata squawked again, and Jehanne took her, jiggling her. "But why so quickly? Surely Henry's hold on the throne is no sure thing."
"Jehanne, we can't delay. With matters disordered by the king's death, Flambard might decide to use force to impose his judgment. I don't want to have to take arms against the Church. At the very best, it will cost us a fortune in fines."
"But won't the king put the matter before a Church court?"
"If he does, it will be under the Bishop of London."
"But what if he decides against us?"
"We can't hide in a hole, saying 'What if...?'" He put an arm around her, around them both. "Trust me?"
She stared up at him. "Of course I trust you. I didn't come out to hover over Donata, did I?"
But it had been conscious trust, frayed by effort. He wanted more than that. He wanted what they'd once had...
Perhaps responding to his silence, she added, "I'm trying. I'm determined to change, to not be so difficult."
He kissed her cheek. "Don't change too much, Jehanne. I love my sharp-tongued, combative wife. I've no mind to find myself married to a honey-voiced, docile creature who would faint at the sight of a wild boar."
She blushed, which pleased him, and tried to hide it by looking down at the babe. "Your father's mad," she confided.
Then she stared at Galeran, appalled.
He made himself smile. "In all but blood I'm her father. But not mad."
* * *
Aline walked into the solar, but when she saw Galeran and Jehanne talking in such an intimate way, she whipped back into the hall and slipped down to the bailey. Without reason, her heart beat wildly just from witnessing such a tender moment.
Why had she ever thought she wasn't interested in earthy matters?
After Mass this morning she'd spoken to Father Robert, embarrassing herself dreadfully as she tried to explain her tangled feelings.
She'd half hoped to be told that any contact with Raoul was wicked, that she should go straight back to the convent.
The priest's advice had been quite different.
"Lady Aline, you've made no vows. You should take time to learn where God wishes you to serve Him.
Experiencing the temptations of the flesh does not make it impossible to be a nun.
Those in Holy Orders can be tempted, but learn to resist. In that they find new strength. "
So Aline was left wondering whether her alarming feelings for Raoul de Jouray were a message from God telling her she was to marry, or a temptation of the devil sent to strengthen her.
At the same time, she fretted over whether Raoul had any feelings for her at all. Was she just a challenge, mere amusement for an active man stuck up here in the north?
She walked over to the far corner of the bailey, to the training ground, knowing she would probably find Raoul there.
What a man he was for military exercise.
The previous day she'd watched from an arrow slit as he'd taken on two men-at-arms wielding axes.
Though he'd been in mail and armed with sword and shield, her heart had nearly stopped a time or two.
Today, in view of their personal challenge, she refused to watch from concealment, but walked boldly up to the training yard.
Then she saw that they were practicing the quarter staff.
Half naked.
It was a warm day and the exercise had clearly heated the men, for most of them had stripped off their shirts.
It was only Raoul's torso, however, that made Aline's heart race.
She'd seen him naked when he'd bathed, but she'd been more intent then in not looking at him than in appreciating his attractions.
Today, in the light of their challenge, she felt obliged to assess his weaponry.
Oh, my.
She had five strong brothers, but came from a short family.
Raoul's height balanced his strong build, making him the most impressive man present, but it was his movement that captured her.
He was graceful and agile as an animal as, one after another, he winded, tripped, or knocked down the men without being touched himself.
"Come on!" he suddenly bellowed. "Why are you lining up like nuns for the Eucharist! Try to take me!"
The ten men looked at one another, then attacked together from all sides, grinning madly at the thought of downing this demon. Still, it took them a while, and a good number of cracked shins and bruises, before they had him beneath them in the dust.
Aline had her hand over her mouth, sure he must be dead.
But the group dissolved and he leaped up, spraying muddy sweat from his hair and dirt from everywhere. Then he saw Aline and grinned teeth white in his dirty face.
"Care for a bout, my lady?"
Aline turned and fled back to the hall.
Jehanne looked up from where she sat embroidering, cradle by her side. "What's happened?"
"Nothing!" Aline tried to straighten her veil and slow her breathing.
"Something must have." A sudden smile twitched Jehanne's lips. "Let me guess. Raoul de Jouray."
Aline silently cursed her tendency to turn red. "It just frightened me. Ten men attacked him...."
"Good heavens. Why?"
"Because he told them to, the silly man." Aline sat down and made herself calm enough to pick up her distaff and spin wool as she made the encounter into a funny story.
At the end Jehanne said, "He's the kind of man who loves nothing more than fighting and hunting."
Aline concentrated on the evenness of her thread. "Is that a warning?"
"Perhaps. But I shouldn't have said nothing else interests him. I'm sure love-play absorbs him, too."
Aline met her cousin's eyes. "There's no question of anything like that between us."
"Good." But Jehanne did not sound convinced. "However, if he was as dirty as you say, he'll doubtless want a bath."
Aline knew she was blushing again, but she said, "I suppose so," and went to make sure there was hot water ready, a wicked tingle of excitement building within her.
Her words to Jehanne about love-play had been a lie.
There was already love-play between them.
She hoped. And she hoped there would be more.
After a time, when Raoul did not appear, she went in search of him. She found him sitting among the men, shirt on, chatting and laughing as they all attended to weapons. Raoul looked reasonably clean, and was sliding a whetstone down his sword blade with all the care of a lover.
Catching sight of her, he sheathed his sword and came over. For once he looked a little somber. "Lady Aline. I'm sorry if our rough play offended you."
"Of course it didn't."
"Then it was my invitation. I apologize even more."
"So you should. It was lewd." Aline knew she was frowning when she didn't really want to.
"Not at all." A warning twinkle sparked in his eye. "You just misunderstood. I would be happy to train you in quarter-staff work if it interests you."
"Oh, you are impossible!" She looked him over, trying not to notice how his simple braies and shirt showed off his marvelous body. "How is it that you are so clean?"
He looked down at his still-grubby clothes with a grin. "The clean bits are courtesy of a few buckets of well water. Am I clean enough to kiss?"
Aline stepped back. "Of course not!"
"I feared as much. If you're not going to kiss me, sweeting, I had better go back and tend my more appreciative sword." And he did just that, leaving Aline feeling abandoned and intensely dissatisfied.
She soon lacked time to fret about such things, however, for Jehanne needed her help to prepare for the journey.
"Aline," said Jehanne the next day as they went through chests selecting suitable clothes. "There's actually no need for you to come with us. You could return to Burstock, or even to St. Radegund's."
Alarmed, Aline looked up from a pile of shifts. "But I've never been south, and I've always wanted to." It was as good an excuse as any.
"It will be a long, arduous journey, with possible danger at the end. After all, Duke Robert could invade."
"I don't mind the journey, and surely with Lord William and Galeran to protect us, we'll be in little danger. And Raoul de Jouray as well," she added, praying that her interest didn't show. "I suppose he will be with the party."
"I believe so. Galeran said something about him wanting to find grapes. He must be missing his home in the south of France."
Aline hid her red face in the depth of a chest, alarmed at how determined she was not to be left behind.
* * *
In a small, cozy parlor in the Bishop's Palace in Durham, Ranulph Flambard unwrapped a package, peeling off layers of leather and cloth until he revealed a small white skull.
A stocky man of middle years, with a heavily jowled face and sallow skin, he was intelligent and shrewd, and both qualities showed in his features. He was also ruthlessly avaricious, which was well known by his actions.
The letter that accompanied the gift had told him what to expect, but he was still considering the implications. Coming hard on the news of King William Rufus's death, the strange gift was especially disturbing.
Rufus's death was a serious blow, but Flambard was not one to worry over what could not be changed. His only concern now was how to maintain his wealth, power, and influence.