Chapter Seven #2
She finished the tale, watching Cambridge’s face, waiting for him to either decide she’d done something wrong or be sympathetic to the situation.
His gaze hovered on her; he surely knew the apprehension she was feeling.
He seemed to feed off it in some twisted way, something he’d always done with her.
When he thought she’d suffered long enough, he finally reacted.
“If Sir Aidric serves the king, then he is an elite knight,” he said. “Of course he would protect you. That is what the knighthood is sworn to do, to protect the weak. Did you at least thank him?”
Cleodora nodded firmly. “I did, my lord, many times,” she said. “I also thanked him on your behalf. I hope that was not wrong of me, to assume that you should want to thank him also.”
Cambridge shook his head. “It was not wrong,” he said. “It was not wrong of you at all. I am grateful that he saved your life.”
Cleodora was relieved at his response, but she wasn’t entirely off her guard because the man could turn in an instant. She’d seen it before.
“May I tell you what he said to me about appearing in public, my lord?” she said.
“By all means.”
“He told me that I must not wear dresses with jewels sewn onto them, as they attract thieves,” she said. “He said it was not safe for me to do so.”
Cambridge shrugged. “I am certain he is correct, but it is important that you display your station,” he said. “Next time you go out, Neville will never leave your side. It was wrong of you not to keep him with you at all times.”
Here comes the rebuke, she thought. Demurely, she lowered her head.
“It will not happen again, my lord, I promise,” she said.
“But I did manage to bring back the garment that I will wear to tomorrow at the feast. When Neville fetched me from the inn, he took me back to Adelie’s and I was given the dress. ”
“Good,” Cambridge said. “I look forward to seeing you wear it tomorrow.”
“I hope it is to your liking, my lord.”
“I have faith that it will be,” he said.
Then, he lifted a hand to wave her off. “You may go now. Be ready to depart tomorrow at the nooning hour for Westminster. And… and, mayhap, you will introduce me to this knight who saved your life if, in fact, he is a member of Edward’s guard.
I am certain they will be at the feast, so if he was truthful when he told you who he was, we shall know for certain tomorrow. ”
Cleodora was already on her feet. “I look forward to it, my lord.”
She dipped into a polite curtsy before swiftly departing the hall.
Cambridge watched her go even as he shoved more food into his mouth, a fine piece of beef that was stuffed with stewed onions.
As servants moved in and out of the hall, making sure his wine cup was full and more food was brought to the table, Cambridge caught sight of Langford as the man stood over on the edge of the hall, watching Cleodora’s departure just as Cambridge had been doing. He’d heard the entire conversation.
Cambridge motioned to the man.
“From what Neville said about the incident at Adelie’s, I am surprised to see Lady Cleodora without a scratch,” Langford said, picking up the wine decanter down the table and bringing it to bear on Cambridge’s cup.
“I half expected to see her physically battered and emotionally overwrought. That must have been a terrifying ordeal.”
“Indeed,” Cambridge said, chewing loudly. “But that is not what interests me.”
“Her ordeal does not interest you?”
Cambridge shook his head. “It was not an ordeal as much as it was a potential opportunity.”
“Opportunity for what, my lord?”
Cambridge looked at him. “Did you not hear who saved her from thieves?” he said. “A royal knight. Edward’s knight.”
“I heard, my lord. What about it?”
Cambridge swallowed the bite in his mouth before taking a big gulp of the ruby-red liquid in his cup. As the wine coursed down his throat, he wiped his mouth thoughtfully.
“What did I say to you earlier?” he said quietly. “She is a tool. My tool.”
“She is, my lord.”
“And she has just made the acquaintance of Edward’s bodyguard.”
Langford wasn’t stupid. He was starting to put the pieces together, at least as much as he could assume. “And you think she can use that acquaintance for your own purposes?”
Cambridge looked rather pleased with himself. “The man saved her life,” he said. “Even Neville said that he ensured my Pearl was taken to safety, so surely he would not refuse a friendship with her. Or more.”
Langford paused a moment, thinking on the implication of what he’d just heard. “A romance, my lord?”
Cambridge shrugged, turning back to his wine.
“I have had her for three years,” he said.
“She is my possession, my prize, my Pearl. Most of all, she is mine to do as I please, though at my age, I do not do anything. That time has long passed. Though it pains me to suggest she find comfort with another, if it is a means to an end, then I will permit it.”
“What if she will not do it?”
Cambridge snorted softly as he picked up another piece of beef with his fingers.
“Let us see if her father cannot convince her to befriend this knight of Edward’s,” he said, putting the food in his mouth.
“If they become lovers, all the better. With her beauty and training in the bedchamber, she can convince the man to do anything she wants.”
Langford’s eyebrows lifted. “You think she could have a knight loyal to the king turn on the man?”
“Possibly,” Cambridge said as he chewed. “If he will not, then mayhap she can get close enough to Edward to accomplish my wish. There are any number of ways such a thing could be done.”
Langford nodded in agreement. He’d known Cambridge long enough to know the man was deadly serious.
The Archbishop of Cambridge was many things, but a man of empty threats wasn’t one of them.
Langford had seen evidence of his determination for years.
That was why the man was so powerful, why he controlled so much within his realm.
He was ambitious and he was determined, a resolute combination, and if he was willing to let his precious Pearl slide into the arms of another man to achieve his wants, then he would have no hesitation in doing such a thing.
As long as the action achieved his goals, he could justify it.
“I would suggest we send word to her father, then,” Langford said.
“The man is already indebted to you. Were it not for the money you send him so he can feed his sickness, he would probably be living in squalor, or dead. He owes you much. Let him tell her what she must do. Let the man earn that money you pay him.”
Cambridge was licking his fingers of the beef juice. “Then send him word,” he said. “Edward’s feast is tomorrow and I doubt Everald can make it to London in time, so I will be the one to encourage her to befriend the man who saved her life. Once that foundation is set, we can build upon it.”
“Agreed.”
Cambridge sighed, looking out over his lavish hall, with its tapestries on the walls and hide rugs instead of rushes. Everything about it reflected the wealth of the Earls of Gainsborough and the House of de Fulbourne.
But Cambridge wanted more.
He didn’t need a king in the way of his ambition.
“I wasn’t much looking forward to the feast welcoming Edward back to England,” he said after a moment. “Now, strangely, I am.”
Langford fought off a grin as he poured the man more wine. “May you have good fortune, my lord.”
“I intend to.”
And he did.