Chapter Seven
He was so tall.
Tall and muscular, with eyes the color of liquid amber.
She couldn’t get Aidric St. John out of her mind.
Cleodora had seen him when he first entered the shop because he was taller than the men around him.
He just naturally stood out in a crowd. He had dark blond hair that was streaky with lighter blond strands, wavy and shoulder-length, and a square jaw that seemed to give him a natural air of command.
He’d certainly taken command of her when he whisked her to safety.
She’d never had anyone do that before.
Being a vassal of Cambridge had always made her feel as if she were on her own, as if there was no one to protect her or help her other than Filly.
When she should have been able to depend on her father for such things, she knew she couldn’t.
The man was weak and a slave to the narcotic he’d become acquainted with whilst on crusade in the Levant.
That was how she’d become a possession of the Archbishop of Cambridge—because the man had promised to keep Everald supplied with his drug in exchange for not causing trouble because she was a Jewel.
Being one of the Seven Jewels of London was a complicated thing.
It was also an isolating thing, meaning Cleodora knew there was no possible way she could ever have a normal life with a man as just and righteous as Aidric St. John.
Not that she was looking for someone to take her away from this life she led, because she wasn’t.
She was resigned to the life she led. But there was a large part of her who wanted to be a normal woman, married to a man she adored, with children at her feet.
She was very careful about voicing those thoughts, however, but her jaunt into London made her think of them again as she’d watched the mother with her young boy on the street.
She’d even said something to Filly about it. But such thoughts were unhealthy.
Still…
What she wouldn’t give to be married to a man like Aidric.
When she shouldn’t even entertain the thought, she found herself dreaming of him.
A tall, handsome husband in a prestigious post, someone to care for her and protect her.
Perhaps… perhaps he’d even love her. No one had ever loved her.
Not even her father. Cleodora had lived her entire life without being loved for who she was.
“My lady?”
Filly’s soft voice roused her from her thoughts.
Cleodora was sitting at her dressing table, brushing the ends of her hair and gazing at herself in the polished silver mirror, the one that showed a true reflection.
Though she trusted Filly implicitly, she still felt guilty that her servant had caught her daydreaming.
Quickly, she set the brush down.
“What is it?” she asked.
Filly, who had been at the door to the chamber, swiftly stepped in. “Cambridge wants to speak with you,” she said, lowering her voice. “Neville told him what happened at Adelie’s today. He wants to speak with you now.”
Cleodora’s heart was pounding with apprehension. “Does he seem angry?”
Filly shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “Not angry, but concerned. He is very concerned.”
Cleodora sighed as she stood up. “Somehow, he will make this my fault,” she said. “He always does. I can never do right in his eyes.”
Filly knew that, but she didn’t want to add to her mistress’s distress. “Hurry, now,” she said, indicating the door. “He is waiting.”
Cleodora hesitated for a moment, but it was more out of frustration than fear.
It was so difficult to live one’s life in constant fear and, frankly, it was exhausting.
Even if she was berated for what happened this afternoon, the truth was that it was worth it.
It was worth those few stolen moments of being with a man who treated her kindly and who only seemed to want to protect her.
Kindness was the rarest thing of all in her world and, somehow, simple thanks didn’t seem enough.
She wanted to do more to show her gratitude.
Given her conversation with him earlier, an idea began to form.
“Fil,” she said thoughtfully. “You saw the man who saved me from the robbers, did you not? When he returned to Adelie’s in search of Neville?”
Filly nodded. “I did,” she said. “A tall man.”
“Very tall.”
“With big shoulders.”
“I think everything about him was big.”
“What about him, my lady?”
Cleodora cocked her head. “He saved my life,” she said. “I do not know what would have become of me had he not put himself between me and the robbers. I told Neville this.”
Filly nodded. “I know, my lady,” she said. “I heard you.”
“I want to thank him,” Cleodora said. “I already told him that I was grateful, but it does not seem enough. A reward probably would not mean anything to him, but I have an idea on how to thank him that might be a sincere show of my gratitude.”
Filly wasn’t quite following her train of thought. “What do you mean, my lady?”
A gleam came to Cleodora’s eye. “Never you mind,” she said. “But I need you to do something for me. I require your help.”
“You shall have it.”
“Take my purse,” she said, indicating the wardrobe where she kept her silken purse and her coin. “Take all of it because I do not know how much it will cost.”
Over the years, she’d accumulated a good deal of coin, mostly from the archbishop because he liked to be generous from time to time and give her money simply because he could. It wasn’t as if she had anything to spend it on, so she’d just kept accumulating it.
Until now.
But Filly was looking at her in confusion. “What will cost, my lady?”
“The kermes fabric.”
Filly’s eyes widened. “The one that Adelie’s woman was showing us?”
“The very same.”
“It was so expensive!”
“I know,” Cleodora said. “It is perfect for a gift.”
“What gift?”
A smile tugged at the corner of Cleodora’s mouth.
“Purchase seven tunic lengths of the kermes,” she said.
“And then you will purchase two dress lengths of dark blue wool and two dress lengths of yellow wool. The finest wool they have. Do it today, and do it quickly, and I will make sure you are rewarded.”
Filly wasn’t any more clear on what, exactly, Cleodora had in mind, but she didn’t ask questions.
She liked the idea of being rewarded for a task well done, and unlike her mistress, she had far more freedom coming and going from Thornhill.
She could do what Cleodora couldn’t and it was obvious she was the key to some master plan her mistress had.
Rather than argue with her, she simply nodded.
“Very well, my lady,” she said in a tone that suggested she wasn’t too keen on the task. “I will hurry over. But meanwhile, the archbishop wishes to speak with you. You must go to him now.”
Cleodora knew that. Cambridge was not a patient man and she’d already delayed long enough. Taking a deep breath, she headed downstairs as Filly collected the coin purse from the wardrobe and fled down the servant stairs.
Cleodora’s plan was in motion.
Cambridge was waiting in the hall, seated at his elaborate table where he usually was.
He was at that table often, enjoying rich foods, foods he could afford, and his figure showed it.
He had an enormous belly even if his arms and fingers were strangely thin.
Cleodora entered the hall, smelling something burnt that tickled her nostrils, and tried not to sneeze as she dipped into a curtsy.
“Ah,” Cambridge said as he caught sight of her, his mouth full of something that was on the table in front of him. “Come in, dearest. Sit down. I hear you’ve had a trying day.”
Cleodora scooted over to the table and took the seat he indicated. “It was an unusual day, to be sure, my lord,” she said. “If I have caused you any grief or trouble because of it, you have my sincerest apologies. It is only, and ever, my intention to honor your house.”
His gaze drifted over her as she sat down. “You’ve not caused me any grief,” he said. “But Neville told me what happened. Positively shocking. I would like to hear your story, please.”
Cleodora didn’t hesitate. “I was waiting for the garment Adelie had prepared,” she said.
“I was in a smaller chamber because one of Adelie’s ladies wanted to show me some fine wool from Lucca.
As I was looking at it, a knight entered the chamber and asked me about the fabric.
I knew about it, you see, and told him what I knew.
He was not bold or forward and I felt comfortable answering his question. ”
Cambridge was listening intently. “This knight,” he said. “Who was he?”
“A knight in the service of King Edward,” she said. “He told me that he is in command of Edward’s personal guard. He was at Adelie’s to conduct business and happened to see the fabric I was looking at.”
Cambridge wasn’t thrilled with the fact that she’d been speaking to a strange man and his expression showed it. “I see,” he said. “Continue.”
Cleodora did. “We had finished the conversation when another man appeared with a sword,” she said. “He pointed it at me and told Sir Aidric to move aside, as he wished to take the jewels from my dress and also take me.”
“Who is Sir Aidric?”
“King Edward’s knight.”
“And the other man? He wished to take you as hostage?”
“I can only assume so,” Cleodora said, trying to be as succinct as possible because it was anyone’s guess which way Cambridge’s temperament would go.
He was already displeased that she’d spoken to a stranger, so she could only pray that that was the extent of it.
“When he threatened me, Sir Aidric put himself in great danger to protect me. There were other robbers because we could hear fighting in the other rooms of the shop, so Sir Aidric sought to remove me immediately and take me to safety. He took me to a tavern on the next street, put me in a room with a lock on the door, and then went to find Neville. It was very brave of him, my lord. He could have just as easily left me to the mercy of the robbers, but he did not.”