Chapter 12
Two days later, Galeran's party left Heywood.
Though he felt rather foolish about it, he had agreed to extreme security for the short trip to Brome.
The area all around had been scoured, and everyone had been put on the alert for strangers.
Today six of Lord William's men-at-arms had come over to Heywood to bolster the eight Galeran was taking on the journey.
Since the group also included Jehanne, Aline, and a maid with Donata, all riding their own horses, and ten pack horses to carry the baggage, it was an impressive entourage.
Raoul was driven to tease. He rode back to where Galeran was placed securely in the middle of the line. "We could always carry you in an iron-bound litter, safe from all harm."
Galeran scowled at him. "I could always make you stay behind to hold Heywood."
"You have no power over me," his friend declared cheerfully. "I wouldn't miss this jaunt for the world."
"Jaunt? I'm hoping this will be nothing more than a dull journey followed by tedious paperwork."
"Alas, you do not have the soul for high adventure!"
"True. All I want is a quiet life on my own lands with my family around me, prospering." He looked at Raoul thoughtfully. "Do I detect restlessness? Once this excitement is over, will you be off adventuring again?"
"Perhaps." But Raoul turned to stare ahead as if a vista of swaying horses' rumps enthralled him.
"What else?" asked Galeran curiously. "Much though I love the north country, I hardly see it holding you."
"You're right there," said Raoul with an artificial shudder, for the weather had turned dull again, and there was a hint of rain in the air.
"Before winter sets in, I'll be off to sunnier parts.
But I've lost taste for holy wars and pointless battles.
Perhaps your example is making me think of settling down. "
"My example!" Galeran laughed out loud. "I'd think my experiences would suggest a long journey far away from women."
Raoul glanced sideways. "And yet you do not have the look of a completely unhappy man."
"True enough," said Galeran, laughter lingering as a smile. "If we can just settle the matter of Donata and deal with Lowick so I can ride through my own land without fear of ambush, I'll be as happy as any man has a right to be."
"Why do you grudge me the same, then?"
Galeran concentrated, alerted by a seriousness in his friend's tone.
"I don't. But I do wonder if you have the temperament for domesticity.
For fidelity." After a moment's thought, he decided to charge the issue head-on.
"Surely you're not thinking of settling down with Aline?
Quite apart from her intent to become a nun, she is a northern girl, born and bred. What of your beloved sun, then?"
"I'll have to try seducing her with southern fruits." Raoul glanced sideways, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. "I really do fear the Lady Aline is running so fast from my wicked ways that she just might catch me."
Galeran raised his brows. "This will be an interesting jaunt after all."
They stayed the night at Brome, and then set out in an even more impressive cavalcade, heading to Richmond, where they would join the remains of the ancient road that headed straight as an arrow south.
That night they asked the hospitality of a priory, but it had only separate dormitories for men and women, so Jehanne and Galeran had to part. "It's perhaps fitting," he said, "that we be chaste on this journey."
Her eyes searched his features with a shadow of concern. "I might begin to think you are growing fond of chastity."
"Never think that." He stroked her cheek with his knuckles. "It is because it's hard that it will be a suitable offering to God."
"You think we need His aid, then?"
"Don't we always?"
"And yet, you haven't been much given to sexual abstinence in our marriage, Galeran."
"And you have always had a saucy tongue. Now, if you were to insist that I perform my marital duties, we could probably find a suitable corner...."
"Oh, no!" she said, capturing his teasing hand. "You won't make me into your Eve. By all means let us suffer. In your case it can be a votive offering. In mine it will be penance."
Galeran shook his head as he watched her cross to the well-separated women's quarters. Jehanne would never lose her sharp edge.
Thanks be to God.
He took a moment to slip into the chapel to offer his abstinence to God, and to pray for His assistance in this tangled matter.
* * *
Raoul made sure that he assisted Aline down from her saddle, and escorted her to the entrance of the women's dormitory.
She looked at the sturdy door with a rather smug smile.
"I fear this journey will not provide much opportunity for your assault of my citadel, Sir Raoul."
"Do you think not? But it is a soldier's skill to find the weakness in any defense."
Her eyes flickered to his and her smile wavered. "I doubt you will find one here."
"No? In most religious houses the chapel is common ground."
Her lovely blue eyes widened. "No one would conduct dalliance in a chapel!"
"Do you think not?" Now it was his turn to smile smugly.
"If you were to do such an irreverent thing, it would only strengthen my defenses, I assure you."
"Then why do you seek to dissuade me?"
She raised her pretty, round chin. "'Tis merely that I fear for your soul, Sir Raoul." Then she moved to open the door.
He seized her hand, stopping her. "Don't fear for any part of me, Lady Aline," he said, raising her hand for a kiss. "Unless it be my heart that swells with what might be the beginning of love for you."
She snatched her hand away. "If any part of you is swelling, sirrah, I'm sure it's not your heart!" With a sharp look at his genitals, and a rapid blush, she flipped the latch and marched into the dormitory.
Raoul laughed. She had him there, but the swelling had not begun until she had—so to speak—raised the subject with her sharp tongue and bold look.
The thought of tongues and eyes did little to ease him, so he went off to check the horses and use up his energy in purposeful work.
* * *
Aline stormed into the dormitory in a daze, berating herself for stooping to low badinage and unchaste looks.
Raoul de Jouray seemed to have that effect on her.
Wicked, wicked man.
And of course she wasn't going to meet him in the chapel.
On the other hand, it would be pleasant to say her nightly prayers in the sanctified chapel, and she should not let a low rogue keep her from God.
For all his bold words, the man couldn't really try to seduce her before God's altar.
Could he?
All the time she was assisting Jehanne and Winifred, the maid, with the baby, she struggled with this mix of fear, rebellion, and rampant curiosity. It was as if she were a puppy with a skein of yarn, tangling herself further the more she twisted.
There were three other women in the dormitory—a merchant's wife and daughter, and a mason's wife. The merchant's family was returning from Nottingham, where they had heard definite news of Henry Beauclerk's coronation.
"I fear events when the Conqueror's oldest son returns home," said thin Dame Freda, shaking her head. "I was a child when the Normans came into England, but I remember it. Terrible times, and the north country still not recovered. I wouldn't go south just yet, ladies."
"Duke Robert is still far away," Jehanne told her.
"He'll move fast when the news reaches him," said the dame. "I'm staying in the north."
When Dame Freda and her pale daughter settled in their beds, Aline said quietly to Jehanne, "Do you think Duke Robert will invade?"
"No. The Conqueror spent a mountain of gold to seize England, buying soldiers with coin and with promise of land here in England. That land is now held by strong men of Norman descent who are not likely to give it up. Unless the barons turn on Henry, Robert has no chance."
"You're saying he wouldn't succeed, not that he wouldn't invade."
Jehanne sighed. "True. And I don't think he's a wise man. But he's still dallying in Sicily, which is south of Italy and many weeks away. Whatever he does, it shouldn't affect our journey."
"No. Your enemy is Ranulph Flambard, with Raymond of Lowick as his tool. I wonder what effect this new king will have on them."
Jehanne grimaced. "We can do nothing but hope and pray. Are you ready for bed?"
As if impelled by an outside force, Aline rose and straightened her skirts, "Speaking of prayers, I think I'll visit the chapel."
"Very well. But don't pray the night away. We leave early in the morning."
Heart beating fast, Aline went to the small door that led into the chapel.
There was a squint next to it for ladies who wished to observe Mass without venturing farther.
She paused with her hand on the chilly metal latch and peeped through.
Beyond a distant metal grille, the altar candles showed two cowled monks praying.
The squint, however, did not show the body of the chapel.
With a deep breath, she pressed down the latch and slipped through the door.
She almost laughed. She was in a small separate chapel, divided from the main body by that metal grille which contained no gate at all.
Clearly the monks had made sure that there was no danger of females sneaking out in the night to invade their chaste quarters.
That meant, however, there was no danger of Raoul de Jouray staging an attack from the main chapel upon her tower of virtue.
Suddenly ashamed of her wanton thoughts and her impious reason for coming here, Aline knelt before the minor altar and prayed earnestly for the strength to be good.
She gazed intently at a wooden plaque set above the altar and draped in silk.
In the dim light she could see a carving of the Blessed Mary with her child on her hip.