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Authors: Katherine Kingston

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BOOK: RulingPassion
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“Oh, there is Sir Bartram.” Rosalind followed Jane’s line of
sight to a middle-aged man with graying black hair and a wild, gray-streaked
beard.

“He is reputedly in search of another wife, having used up
two previous ones. He needs a mother for his six children and someone to
satisfy his notoriously prodigious appetites. His holdings are modest but
enough to maintain him in some comfort.”

“He’s not a horrible-looking man,” Rosalind commented.

“No. Just a horrible-tempered one. He is said to treat his
wives, children, servants, and anyone else weaker than him with shameful
brutality. Rumor even suggests one of his wives died at his hand.”

“You do not encourage me much,” Rosalind said. She glanced
around the room, more to be sure all was in order and no one being neglected
than in consideration of potential mates. Sir Philip looked her way as her gaze
scanned over his position. He smiled and tipped his cup ever so slightly in her
direction.

Jane saw the motion and interpreted it correctly. “Hmm, now
that is a possibility, especially if this enterprise we presume Jeoffrey plans
goes well. One has to believe that if they can defeat Sir William, Jeoffrey
will ensure his friend benefits.”

“But if it does go well—” Rosalind let her gaze rest on
Jeoffrey for just a moment, taking in how handsome and noble he looked even
while conversing with a rather deaf lord seated to his left.

Again Jane followed her glance and drew conclusions. “Ah, of
course,” she said. “So that is your hope. And if the enterprise goes well… Aye,
of course it would be so. And quite appropriate, too. Does he know of this
secret hope of yours? No, obviously not, if he continues to plan a betrothal
with Lady Alys. Yet, you two would be well matched. In fact, I cannot imagine
how two such attractive people could be living under one roof and not be
tempted to— Oh.”

Rosalind did not think her expression had changed, but she
felt the heat flooding her cheeks, so perhaps that was what Jane saw. “Nay,
‘tis not as you think.”

“And you are sure you know what I think?” Jane asked.

“Others have speculated on it. I doubt it could be avoided
since I have no one to chaperone me here.”

“And what better sport have we than to speculate on who is
sinning with whom?” Jane suggested. “But fascinating though the subject might be,
at the moment, I am more interested in what your hearts and minds are doing
than in your bodies’ interactions.”

“Then you are the only in this room. Perhaps the only one in
this land.”

“I pride myself on not doing what everyone else around me is
doing,” Jane answered.

Rosalind knew for a certainty she was going to like this
lady very much.

“So,” Jane continued. “Has he given you any reason to hope
his deeds might not follow his words?”

The servants were collecting empty trenchers and setting out
platters of cheese, fruit and cook’s delectable honey rolls. While she watched
them work, Rosalind debated the wisdom of answering the question. “As he is
trying to arrange marriages for himself and me with others, it would not be
wise for him to display any affection elsewhere.”

Jane laughed softly. “A careful answer, Rosalind, and a wise
one. You know not you can trust me as yet.” She took another drink of wine, and
then asked, “Is the duke coming to this meeting?”

“Aye, tomorrow.”

“And will his wife and daughter be with him?”

“Not immediately. They will arrive afterward and stay for a
few days’ visit.”

“Is the marriage a condition of his assistance?”

“We know not. The duke does not entirely favor my lord, but
his daughter does, and you have already said how effective she is at getting
what she wants.”

“Well. We have some work to be about on the duke, do we not,
Rosalind?”

Rosalind turned to stare at the other woman. “My lady, Jane,
why would you seek to help me?”

“I said earlier, your mother was a friend to us when we
needed one. And, in truth, I like you, Lady Rosalind. I like Lord Jeoffrey as
well, and I think you two well matched. Your happiness would please me.”

“Then I think we must bend all our efforts toward ensuring
my lord gets the support he needs for the venture he proposes. All our hopes of
happiness and peace, likely even of survival, rest on that.”

“You truly believe Sir William covets all the land around?”

“I spent considerable time with him, listening to him try to
woo me with his plans and ambitions. Aye, I know it to be true. And he is not a
man to listen to the voice of reason from any other quarter. He consults only
his own greed and ambition.”

Jane’s expression turned serious. “That agrees with my own
impression, formed merely from what I had heard of the man. And I believe Lord
Jeoffrey may be the only one who can bring together the majority of the lords
in the area. He is a leader all would follow. Well, then, we shall make it our
business to win support for him.” She set down the piece of apple she’d picked
up and her solemn expression grew darker. “Tell me how your family died. I know
‘tis not a pleasant memory to recall, especially at a feast such as this, but
we must be sure ‘tis known by all.”

Rosalind’s stomach turned over and for a moment she wasn’t
sure her dinner would remain in her middle. She understood the wisdom of Jane’s
request, however. Only she survived to tell the world of how her family was
butchered. She related the story to Jane, leaving out nothing, not even what
she’d heard of her mother’s dishonor.

The other woman looked rather sick when she finished as
well, but she nodded and took Rosalind’s hand. “My dear, how horrible for you.
I expected it to be bad, but I had not guessed it would be so barbaric. This
must not remain secret. As difficult as it will be for you, all must know how
your family was treated at Sir William’s hands. We have little time to spread
the news before they meet tomorrow. Perhaps…”

“What?”

“Think you Lord Jeoffrey might permit you to address the
assembly? To tell your story directly to them? It would be most effective, I
believe. You tell it with power and emotion that could not fail to move them.”

“But would they not be shocked by the impropriety of it?”

“Not if you can convince Jeoffrey to insist upon it.”

Chapter Fifteen

 

The meal went on for a long time. After the food was
consumed, people remained to drink and talk. The bard performed for a couple of
hours, singing many old favorites and a few new compositions of his own. His
musicianship was superb and he was an excellent storyteller as well, so he kept
the group entertained for the entire time.

Towards evening’s end, Rosalind grew so tired she could
barely keep her feet under her, but she dutifully waited near the exit of the
hall to bid goodnight to guests and ensure all could find their way to their
quarters and had everything they needed. Jeoffrey also remained, talking to a
couple of the men in a way that suggested he was trying to convince them of
something and not being entirely successful.

When only she and the group of men remained, Jeoffrey bade
them all good evening, excused himself, and made his way to her side. He took
her hand and kissed her cheek.

“My lady, you did a superb job of organizing the affair this
evening. Everyone has remarked on how wonderful the food and entertainment
were. I am deeply grateful for your efforts.”

“It was my pleasure, my lord,” she said, mindful of the men
who could see and possibly hear what they said to each other. “‘Tis the least I
can do to repay all the kindness you have shown me.”

“Would you accompany me a moment?” he asked. “There is a
problem I need to discuss with you.”

She nodded and walked with him out the exit and down the
hall to his private office area. When they were in private, he pulled her to
him and kissed her more deeply. “I am truly grateful,” he said, when they
finally came up for air.

“Did it go well, think you?” she asked. “Will they do as you
wish?”

He grimaced. “I cannot say yet. Some of those I consulted
this evening are hesitant. Not all believe the threat Sir William represents to
them.”

“My lord, if I might make a suggestion?” She hesitated,
knowing he might not approve, and even if he did, what she offered filled her
with dread.

“I am listening.”

“With your permission—I would like to address your assembly
tomorrow. I am aware ‘tis of questionable propriety, and it will not be easy
for me, but I think if they hear my story, know what was done to my family, and
learn what Sir William told me of his ambitions, they might be more inclined to
agree with your plans.”

He hesitated, weighing her arguments for a moment, then
nodded. “Aye. If you think you have it in you to do this, it might help.”

“Jane—Lady Shelton thought so also.”

He smiled. “I saw you two were deep into plans and calculations.”

“She was a friend to my parents, and seems inclined to be
one to myself as well. She is also of our mind concerning Sir William. I think
she will prove a useful ally.”

“She might indeed,” he said.

A huge yawn overwhelmed Rosalind at that moment.

Jeoffrey smiled and said, “Be off to your bed. We’ll have an
early start to a busy morning. This night… Nay, I will not come to your bed
this night. We both have more need of rest. But know you’ll be in my thoughts
and dreams, and I will ache for not having you in my arms. Tomorrow we will
talk more.”

He kissed her once more before he gently turned her toward
the door.

She had thought she’d miss his presence, and she did, but
only very briefly. Exhaustion claimed her and took her off to sleep soon after
she lay down.

 

Glennys came early to her quarters the next morning to wake
her, bearing a cup of warmed cider, bread and jam. Servers were already
beginning to haul platters of rolls, toasted bread, pots of honey and jam, and
trays of cheese and sliced cold meats to the great hall by the time she got
there.

A few early-rising guests had already arrived. Two ladies
picked daintily at rolls while another man had already heaped a trencher high
and was digging into it with earnest effort.

Rosalind talked with each, ascertaining all had what they
needed and had slept well, and greeted others as they arrived.

Shortly thereafter Jeoffrey entered the room. Though she
faced away from the door, she knew something had occurred when conversations
trailed off suddenly and the room quieted. She turned. He wore the new clothes
she’d had prepared for him, and he looked grand enough to rival any duke or
king. The tunic had been cut and fitted to cling closely to his long, lean
frame, but it emphasized his broad shoulders. The deep blue color was a
brilliant foil for his blond hair and emphasized the sparkle of his gray eyes.

He made his way directly to her, though he sent greetings to
all present as he went. “My lady,” he said, taking her hand. “I trust you
rested well?”

“I did, thank you. And I hope my lord did so, also?”

“Well enough, if not long enough,” he said. “But you are
looking very well this morning.”

“Thank you, my lord.” She felt like an actor in a play as
she exchanged the banal words with Jeoffrey and curtseyed to him, when she
desperately wanted to throw herself on him and kiss him until they neither one
could think straight.

He turned away, to give his attention to his guests, and
another very busy day began.

The Duke of Barnston arrived at midmorning. His considerable
entourage included the carriage he rode in, a dozen mounted knights, a cart
with his pavilion and thirty or more servants. The duke himself was a man of
just over middle height and middle years, but still straight and trim. He had
iron gray hair under his fanciful chaperone, a multi-layered fall of fabric
from a rounded crown. His expression remained severe as he alighted from the
carriage, until he caught sight of Jeoffrey, and his face softened into
something not quite a smile but at least friendlier.

Jeoffrey bowed and welcomed him, then escorted him to
Rosalind, where he introduced her. She made her courtesy to the duke, who
nodded and said, “Ah, yes, I had heard of the fate of your family. A terrible
sorrow to you, my lady.”

“Thank you, your grace,” she answered.

The duke nodded and accompanied Jeoffrey into the great
hall, where he refreshed himself with food and ale.

Lady Shelton again sat next to her for the midday meal, a
simpler affair than the previous night’s dinner, but still more elaborate than
their norm due to the number of people present and the high rank of so many of
them.

“I understand from Jeoffrey you will be addressing the
group,” Jane said to her, once the formalities of the meal had been completed
and folks dipped into the food.

“Aye, but I confess I do not know if I can manage it. My
hands are shaking already as I think about it.”

“Tell it to them as you told it to me yesterday,” Jane
advised. “Pretend you are relating the story to a friend. If you feel very
nervous, choose one friendly face in the crowd and tell your story to him.”

Rosalind thanked her for the advice and tried to relax.
Later she couldn’t remember what she ate, or even if she did eat. Nor could she
remember what she and Jane discussed, though she knew they’d chatted through
most of the meal. Or rather, Jane chatted. Rosalind listened and tried to pay
attention. She did remember to ask the other woman if she would lead the ladies
outside for recreation on the lawn after the meal, and keep them organized
until she could get away. Jane immediately agreed.

Fortunately the weather favored them with bright sunshine
and warm temperatures. Rosalind longed to be going out-of-doors with the other
ladies rather than facing the gathered group of men and reciting the horrible
memories she carried within. As the lords, knights, and gentlemen congregated
closer to the head tables, where Jeoffrey stood and called them to order, she
tried to rehearse the lines she’d speak. Her heart pounded in her chest and
sweat made her smock stick to her body.

After reviewing the notice he’d received a fortnight prior
concerning Sir Williams’ latest depredations, Jeoffrey invited her to come
stand beside him and relate her story to the men.

Her voice wavered as she began by speaking of her father,
mother, and brother, their peaceful existence and the way they had always tried
to do the right thing by friends, neighbors and vassals. Most of her
nervousness fled as she spoke of the terrible day, how they’d awakened to the
alarm of the approaching soldiers, and then the nightmare that ensued. Anger
and outrage strengthened her as she related the way her family had died and
she’d been carried off by Sir William. She spoke only briefly of her subsequent
treatment at his hands, but mentioned how the man had bragged of his ambitions
to own this entire corner of the country.

“Your grace, my lords, gentlemen,” she concluded, “I tell
all of this not to ask for your sympathy or to spread gloom and despair; but
only to warn you of Sir William’s ambitions and his cruelty. My family was in
the path of his ambition and paid a dear price for it. Though you may not be as
close as some, all of your families stand in peril of his ambition as well.
Those you love and are sworn to protect are in danger of being treated as was
my family. I am here to implore you to act now, while there is still time to
thwart his desires. I would see no others suffer as I and my family have.”

For a moment after she stopped speaking there was no sound
at all in the room. Then a murmur rose from the men, mingling expressions of
outrage, sympathy and determination starting low but rising to a near roar.
Jeoffrey finally stood and held up both hands to request silence. After a
moment the men complied.

Jeoffrey thanked her and suggested to the group they must
consider how best to answer Sir William’s attacks. Rosalind took that as her
cue to leave the group. Tremors of relief shook her and her legs wobbled as she
made her way from the room. Several of the gentlemen stood to kiss her hand or
just express their regret for what she’d suffered. She thanked them and then
rushed outside and stopped on the lawn, drawing in huge breaths of clean, fresh
air, before she joined the throng of ladies.

Feeling in need of refreshment, Rosalind went first to the
trestles set up along one side and got a cup of spiced apple juice blended with
wine. It was tangy and bracing. She watched a group of women playing Pall Mall
while she drank. The group laughed and chattered while making sporadic attempts
to coax their balls through the colored wickets. A small group sat on a cloth
spread on the ground, playing a card game.

Jane found her as she stood by the table.

“How went it?” she asked.

Rosalind shrugged. “I was able to convey my story to them,
and there seemed to be much anger and outrage as a result. Whether that will
translate into action is yet to be decided.”

“We shall see.” The woman gave her a sly smile. “If their
answer is not what we believe it should be, we will know our work is not yet
done.”

“Truly,” Rosalind sighed in agreement. She couldn’t
contemplate telling her story again with any comfort.

“For now, though, we must leave it in their hands. Come join
us for a round of Pall Mall.”

Rosalind joined their game with enthusiasm but little
success in propelling her ball through the wickets. Though she did her best to
keep her attention focused on the game and the ladies around her, it wandered
often to thoughts of what transpired within the manor. Occasional raucous
shouts floated out through doors left open to admit the warm, late-spring
breeze. Sometimes the din expressed approval and agreement; at other times it
held notes of conflict or anger.

By late afternoon, the ladies began to tire of their games
and started to drift back inside to rest before dressing for dinner. Rosalind
helped the servants clear the trestles and remove everything back inside before
she went to dress.

She stopped outside the great hall and listened to the
debate for a moment, but the men were discussing weaknesses in certain
fortresses. It told her nothing about the tenor of the debate and whether it
moved in the direction she felt necessary.

Glennys came quickly when Rosalind rang for her and helped
her bathe and dress in the grandest of the clothes they’d borrowed from
Jeoffrey’s mother. A magnificent blue velvet houppeland trimmed in lighter blue
satin, worn open at the front to display the pale blue, lace-edged smock
beneath it. A chaperone of rolled blue satin with a veil that ended just above
her eyes matched the fabric of the houppelande.

When she stood, Glennys clapped and sighed at the sight she
made, so Rosalind presumed she carried the grand clothing well enough.

As she returned to front of the manor, meaning to skirt the
great hall on her way to the kitchens, she met several of the men, making their
way toward their quarters. All acknowledged her politely. Their expressions
varied from an exuberant joy to grim sternness. She looked for Jeoffrey among
them and finally found him just exiting the great hall.

“My lord,” she said to him. Then, on catching a better look
at his face, she added, “My lord, are you well?”

“My lady,” he acknowledged. “Well enough. Just tired.”

“You have some time to rest before dinner,” Rosalind
suggested.

“I will try to do so.”

Rosalind paused, wondering if his reticence indicated a
failure he hesitated to discuss. “Did your talks not go well?” she asked.

He pulled a small smile from the exhausted planes of his
face. “Aye, they went to our purpose. We gather quickly, a fortnight from
today, at Chilton, from whence we can proceed in a day’s time to Railles. I am
off to the king three days hence to inform him of our plans and reaffirm our
loyalty.”

“Though battle is never an end to be sought for its own
sake,” Rosalind said, “In this instance it appears our only hope for long
survival, so I am grateful for your efforts, my lord. Now, please go rest.”

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