Chapter Sixteen
She’d sent a message to Westminster via a Cambridge messenger.
Cleodora didn’t try to hide it, but she also didn’t tell Cambridge directly. She saw no need to. If he asked her what she was doing, she would simply tell him that she was initiating contact between her and the king’s guard.
All as Cambridge wished.
It was early in the morning when she sent the message because the truth was that she’d hardly slept that night.
Once she had returned from Adelie’s, her conversation with Aidric was all she could think about.
She knew her father was still at Thornhill because she’d caught a glimpse of him when she came in through the entry door and saw her father in the hall, but she didn’t stop to talk to him—she had no desire to talk to him.
She went straight up to her rooms and bolted the door.
Pleading fatigue, she hadn’t even joined Cambridge for supper.
Fortunately, he hadn’t insisted.
But she’d spent a sleepless night tossing and turning, thinking on the conversation she had with Aidric and praying her life was about to change.
She’d spent three years in a living hell, that gilded cage she’d become so accustomed to, and now there was hope that something was actually going to change.
The truth was that after her conversation with her father yesterday, she was beyond caring what happened to him if he didn’t care what happened to her.
He seemed far more concerned with pleasing Cambridge than protecting his own daughter, so if that was the case, she wasn’t sure why she needed to protect him from Cambridge’s threats.
She wasn’t sure why she needed him at all.
But that left the matter of where to go once she fled Cambridge.
She’d told Aidric that she was going to flee to her father’s lands in France, but that would be the first place Cambridge would look if he, indeed, went looking for her.
The only other place she could go would be back to Cornwall, to Lerryn Castle, because her grandfather was still alive and she was certain he would give her shelter.
Marc de Sauster, her mother’s father, was the only father figure she’d ever known until her own father returned from the Holy Land.
She had warm memories of her maternal grandfather, but after she had become a Jewel, he refused to speak to her.
It was out of shame, of course, and she hoped he realized that what had happened was purely out of her control.
Surely he would accept her with open arms when she told him she was no longer a Jewel.
That was the hope, anyway.
It wasn’t as if she had anywhere else to go.
With that plan in mind, she finally rose from her bed well before sunrise and carefully penned a message to Aidric.
Even though it was quite early, she still sent it straight to Westminster in the hopes that he would receive it and respond right away.
With Filly’s help, she dressed in the subtlest garment she had, which was a white woolen dress with a snug bodice and a matching cloak.
It wasn’t anything like the rest of her wardrobe, which was bright and glittering and very much reflective of the angelic persona that Cambridge wanted her to project.
But the white wool wasn’t actually subtle.
It glared like the sun. Unfortunately, it was all she had.
She and Filly set off about an hour after sunrise, taking horses from the archbishop’s stables and riding into the hub of London, just the two of them, which was unheard of for a proper young noblewoman.
The stable servants didn’t stop her, nor did the guards at the gatehouse, but they certainly watched her go with curiosity.
She was quite certain they ran to tell le Baume, who would undoubtedly be enraged that she’d left Thornhill without an escort.
He was probably out looking for her already.
Old Lloyd’s inn was shockingly busy early in the morning, but not so shocking when Cleodora realized that the common room was filled with people who had spent the night at the inn and simply hadn’t cleared out for the day.
The innkeeper, who recognized her from her visit with Aidric, honored her request for a private room.
Cleodora had brought coinage with her and he happily took ten pence for the same large room that she’d had once before.
She didn’t know that the innkeeper had charged Aidric less for the room, and even if she had, she still would have paid what he’d asked.
She might have been brave enough to go to the inn, but she wasn’t brave enough to spend any length of time in the common room without an armed escort.
She’d heard stories about the people who spent their time in the inns and taverns of London and the last thing she needed was to be accosted by some fool.
Once inside the chamber, they waited.
Filly remained with her, the both of them peering from the windows that overlooked the street below, waiting for Aidric’s arrival.
The minutes of the morning began to tick away, and those turned into the hours of the morning ticking away, one by one.
At some point, Filly went downstairs to pay for a meal, and a rather large one was brought to them.
It was about the nooning hour when two enormous trays of stew, fresh bread, cheese, stewed fruit, and watered wine was delivered.
Cleodora didn’t even know she was hungry until she took the first bite and then realized she was famished.
As she stuffed her face, she sat by the window and continued to watch the street for any signs of Aidric’s appearance, but the nooning hour passed with no sign of him.
Cleodora’s full stomach made her incredibly drowsy—couple that with a lack of sleep from the previous night, and she fell victim to a belly stuffed with food and a soft bed.
She thought she would just lie down for a moment and rest her eyes, but she ended up falling asleep as Filly maintained her vigil at the window.
Noon passed into afternoon and Cleodora slept like the dead. As strange as it seemed, it was a rare moment of peace for her and she relaxed enough to sleep soundly. She wasn’t entirely sure how long she’d been asleep when Filly was suddenly shaking her foot, trying to rouse her.
“My lady!” she said. “He has come! I will go down to the common room and bring him to you.”
Groggy, Cleodora sat up, rubbing her eyes. “God’s Bones,” she muttered. “I did not mean to fall asleep. What time is it?”
“The afternoon, my lady. The sun is still up.”
“He’s finally here, then?”
“Finally,” Filly said. “Get up and put water on your face to freshen up. There is water in the basin, over on the table.”
Cleodora did as she was told. Staggering up, she went to the basin and wiped a little cold water on her face, trying to wake up.
She smoothed back her hair, and smoothed down the dress, then went to sit at the table next to the window and wait for Aidric to make an appearance.
The longer she waited, the more anticipation she felt, to the point when there was finally a knock on the door, she nearly jumped out of her skin.
Filly opened the door quietly, admitting Aidric behind her.
After that, everything seemed to pass in a blur. Cleodora only had eyes for Aidric, and he only had eyes for her, and somewhere in the midst of it, Filly slipped away and closed the door. Then, they were left with only the sounds of the street below through the open window.
But the silence wasn’t uncomfortable.
“My lord,” Cleodora finally said. “Thank you for coming.”
He smiled faintly. “Did you think I would not?”
She shrugged. “Things change,” she said. “Mayhap you were too busy to come. You are an important man with important duties. I would have understood.”
He indicated for her to reclaim her seat, pulling up a chair of his own once she sat down. For a moment, they simply gazed at each other as the air between them filled with a miasma of interest and attraction. It was almost a tangible thing. Aidric was the one who finally broke the spell.
“Nothing short of an act of God could have kept me from coming,” he said. “I told you that we would speak today. I always keep my word.”
“That is because you are a man of honor.”
“I am.”
“I’ve not known many of those.”
He shrugged. “We are around, but you have to look for us,” he said. “Every man I serve with is a man of honor, however. I would not accept anything less.”
“You have served the monarchy for a long time?”
He nodded. “A very long time,” he said. “Henry formed the Guard of Six years ago and I am one of the original guards.”
She looked at him curiously. “A king has so many soldiers and knights at his disposal,” she said. “I find it interesting that he should form a special guard. Doesn’t he have enough men to protect him?”
Aidric grinned, flashing his straight teeth. “He has thousands,” he said. “But the Guard of Six adhere to the king like a shadow. We do not go looking for trouble but rather repel it when it comes. And that is something I want to speak to you about.”
Her warm expression faded. “You mean the orders that Cambridge has given me.”
He nodded. After a moment, he leaned forward in his chair, just close enough to reach out and take her hand.
Rather than pull away, or sit there in shock like she did once before, she grasped his hand and held it tightly.
The action must have surprised him because he squeezed her hand in return, his fingers gently caressing her own.
“I told Edward what you told me,” he said quietly. “As the king, he has a right to know if someone is out to kill him, does he not? For his own safety, I was compelled to tell him about our conversation.”
Her eyes widened and he could see tears threatening. “He wants to throw me in the vault, doesn’t he?” she said, sniffing. “He wants me imprisoned.”