The Fifth Knight(121)

“Sir Benedict Palmer, your Grace.”

“Duped by Fitzurse and a witness to poor Thomas’s demise,” said Amélie swiftly. “Neither Th — Laeticia nor I would be here today if he had not come to our aid. Isn’t that so, Laeticia?”

Her mother gave Theodosia a gracious smile, as if the harsh exchange on the boat had never taken place.

Theodosia simply nodded.

“Then I will be forever in your debt, Sir Palmer,” said Henry. He indicated to two red velvet–padded settles by the fire. “Now please, be seated, all of you. The letter that came to me hinted that there is much to tell, and I need to hear it all.”

“It will take some time, sire,” said Amélie as they took their places, she next to Henry, Benedict beside Theodosia.

“Then take it,” said Henry. “No one will dare disturb us.”

♦ ♦ ♦

It took nigh on two hours to tell Henry the full tale. He listened well but barked short, sharp questions at several points. His interrogation showed a keenly incisive mind, and impressed and terrified Theodosia in equal measure. Her father he might be, but she could think of him only as the monarch.

Now they’d finished, they sat in silence before the glowing embers of the fire while fat snowflakes rustled against the window.

Henry held Grim’s manuscript unrolled on his lap and shook his head slowly, face ruddy with fury. “I always knew Eleanor loved my power and not me. But I never thought she’d stoop to these lows.”

“The lust for power makes people do some terrible things,” said Amélie. “She will be judged before God, like everyone else.”

“If only she were like everyone else.” Henry sprang to his feet and rolled up the manuscript.

Theodosia too scrambled to her feet, Benedict quicker than she. Amélie also rose politely.

“No, no.” Henry waved for them to sit. “I’m thinking, thinking. Walking helps me think.”

As they complied, he paced before the hearth, slapping the roll of vellum hard on his other open palm as he did so. “Knowing Eleanor, she won’t worry about the Almighty’s judgment. She’d more likely try to oust the Almighty so she could take his place.” His face reddened more in his anger. “Curse her!”

His sudden shout made Theodosia jump, and Benedict started beside her.

Pausing before the fireplace, Henry took the manuscript in both hands and struck it against the stone mantel over and over. “Curse her, curse her, curse her!”

Theodosia sat utterly still, not wanting to draw the King’s wrath. Now she knew where her own flashes of fury came from. At the edge of her vision, she saw Benedict’s actions mirrored hers.

“What am I supposed to do with such scurrilous lies?” Henry wheeled around and waved the manuscript aloft. “Murder in my name! A good man, nay, a great one, slain! Betrayal by my own queen! Devil take her, and devil take those sniveling little curs spawned from her rancid loins. Devil take them all!” Specks of foamed spit flew from his mouth as he shouted.

Did the King need help? His rage was fearsome. Theodosia caught her mother’s eye, but Amélie appeared calm, like she had witnessed this behavior before.

Henry flung himself back into his seat beside her mother, his hands trembling violently. “Edward Grim is a lucky, lucky man to have died so easily. He wouldn’t have had as swift a passage if I’d got hold of him.”

Amélie placed a steady hand over his convulsing ones. “Your passion for truth, for righteousness, shows in your anger, sire. But do not let it make you ill.”

The King snorted but seemed a mite calmer. He looked at the manuscript and snorted again, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand. He stared into the fire, lost in his own thoughts.

Amélie patted his hands gently. “You have the truth now. You hold it in your hands.” She looked at Theodosia and Benedict and gave a light laugh. “Indeed, sit beside it. For we three are living proof of it.”

Henry gave a humph and let out a long breath.

Amélie continued. “But we are not a piece of vellum, with words spelled out along it. We are flesh and blood. Indeed, Laeticia is your royal flesh and blood, conceived in holy matrimony.”

Another humph.

“Then what happens to us all, sire?”

Reluctantly admiring of her mother’s skillful handling of the King, Theodosia glanced quickly at Benedict. His dark eyes reflected her own trepidation of what might come to pass.

Henry jumped up from his seat to pace once more. “That’s what I’m trying to decide.” He paused and looked at Amélie. “You know, if I could, I would claim you as my queen?”