“You do us honor, my lord,” Leonie said coldly. “Seat yourselves by the fire and I will see to refreshment.”
William was confused by her icy manner. “What is amiss, dear heart? You are not pleased with your husband?”
The endearment sent a stab through Leonie’s heart, but shock followed that. “Husband?”
“You play, Leonie,” Judith interjected. “You know your father means the man you will marry on the morrow.”
“What?”
“Do not feign innocence, Leonie,” Judith replied wearily. “The banns have been posted. The marriage is by the king’s order. You know your father sent you notice as soon as the king’s messenger came.” She turned to her husband. “Is that not so, William?” William played right into the performance by looking thoroughly bewildered. “Do not say you forgot to send word to her! The poor girl has only this day to prepare! Oh, William, how could you forget such a thing!”
Sir Guibert was as shocked as Leonie, but he couldn’t allow his mind to whirl, as Leonie’s was doing. Guibert’s life would change now, just as hers would. Her husband would be her lord and master. Guibert and Leonie’s other vassals would be asked to renew their oath to her at the wedding, an act that signified their accepting her husband. There was no question of whether Guibert would renew his oath to Leonie. Whether he approved her husband or not, he could never forsake her. But her other vassals might choose to leave her.
“Who is my lady’s husband?” Guibert asked, and Judith smiled, feeling the worst was over. “You will be pleased to know that he is your neighbor, the new lord of Kempston.”
In the shocked silence that followed, Guibert looked at Leonie, to see all the color leaving her face. She said not a word. He knew why. She could not refuse the king’s will, no matter how she felt about it. And it was time she married, Guibert thought. He had long thought so. She would get used to the match. She would have to.
Leonie wordlessly turned and fled the hall. Closing herself in her room, she threw herself on her bed and sobbed tears of self-pity. Her father felt so little for her that he could wait to tell her of her wedding until the day before it was to happen. Did he care nothing for her? What had become of the loving man who had been a real father once?
She finally remembered that she was not alone and looked around. Her wide-eyed maids had never seen her cry before. Roughly, she wiped her face, angry that she had given in to emotions so childishly. Anger was a boon, bringing her spirit back.
She sent the maids to the kitchen with orders about dinner, then sat by her hearth, glad to be alone to think. She knew why the king was interfering in her life. He wasn’t concerned over her unmarried state. His interference had been requested by the Black Wolf. She was certain of that, but she could not guess what the man wanted of her.
It had been nearly a month since the burning of the woodcutter’s hut, and Leonie had ordered that no more of her people venture onto Crewel land. The man’s troubles had ceased, hadn’t they? If they had not, she might think that he wanted to marry her in order to end those troubles. But since there had been peace for a month, that could not be his reason. It was true she had a handsome dowry, but most alliances were made for the aid they would bring as well as for money, and her father’s aid could not be counted on. So that was not the Black Wolf’s reason. And the lord of Kempston had never seen her, so there was no reason to be found there either. Why did he want her…?
Leonie gasped as Alain Montigny’s words came back to her. “I must leave. I have heard enough about the Black Wolf to know I cannot stay and resist his taking possession of my land. He would kill me. He would not care that I am innocent of the crimes he believes me guilty of.”
“What crimes?” Leonie had asked, frantic.
“What matter the crimes!” Alain cried. “The king has killed my father and dispossessed me so that he may give Kempston to his French mercenary, Rolfe d’Ambert, that black wolf of the devil’s. No wonder he is called that! He is a ravaging beast. I was not even allowed a trial!” Alain wailed.
Leonie was fired by Alain’s rage. She had known him all her life. They had played together as children, and she had even thought of marrying him. But the weakness of his character showed itself as he grew older, and she knew he would not make a good husband. But they were friends, and the king’s injustice was appalling—worse because Alain did not have the courage to fight for himself, and there was no one to help him.
“If you want to make a stand, Alain, you know I would call up my men.”
“No,” he stopped her nervously, “I know you would aid me, Leonie, but I cannot ask it of you. The Black Wolf is too powerful. He comes even now with his army to take Kempston. If the king were not behind him—” He let the thought linger, as if the king were the only thing that kept him from fighting.
“Where will you go, Alain?”
“I have a cousin in Ireland.”
“So far?”
“I must. If I stay in England, the Wolf will find me and kill me. It is true, Leonie,” he insisted. “It is not enough that Henry has given my home to the Black Wolf. The bastard wants me dead so that I can never claim Kempston. I cannot tell you the stories I have heard of him, for they would make you fear your new neighbor. But you should know he is like Henry in that he never forgets an ill, nor relaxes a hatred. Step carefully with him, Leonie. Be warned.”
She should have heeded Alain’s warning and tried to be a peaceful neighbor. It was too late now. He never forgets an ill, nor relaxes a hatred.
A feeling of dread crept over Leonie. She had caused Rolfe d’Ambert trouble, and he had reason to hate her.
“You have nothing to do, Leonie?”
Leonie swung around to find Judith in her room. “There is naught that needs my attention, madame.”
“I am glad to hear it. I was afeared you would balk.”
Leonie smiled tightly. “As to that, madame, I can say only that the king’s choice is not acceptable.”
“I do not blame you, my dear. If I knew my future husband was interested only in controlling my land, I would not like it either.”
So that was it! “You know that?”
“D’Ambert tried to buy Pershwick, you see. Of course William had to tell him he could not sell it, that it was part of your dowry. Then he asked for you, but your dear father would not give you to a man interested only in your land.”
“My father refused his offer?”
“Of course he did. But you see what came of that. The man went straight to the king, and now d’Ambert will have you, will you nill you.”
“No, he will not. I said he is unacceptable. I mean it. I will not marry Rolfe d’Ambert.”
Judith’s eyes gleamed for a moment. “But you will. In truth, I wish you had a choice, Leonie, but with the king involving himself in this matter, you must see you do not. It would break your father’s heart to have to force you, but force you he would. He cannot ignore the king’s order.”
“I can.”
“Do not be a silly chit!” Judith snapped, visualizing a scene between father and daughter that might reveal too much and ruin everything. “Henry cares nothing for any wishes but his own, and it is his wish that you marry d’Ambert. Your father will not defy the king, nor will you.”
Leonie jumped to her feet, her temper flaring. “Leave me, Judith. We have no more to say to each other.”
“But we do,” Judith replied grimly. “You will swear to me by all that is holy that you will wed the present lord of Kempston.”
“I swear I will not!”
“Fool!” Judith spat. “You bring this on yourself. Richer!” Judith shouted, and the man Leonie feared stepped into the room. “You know what must be done,” she told him. “Do not leave her until she has sworn.”
With that Judith left the room. She went to make certain the hall was deserted and would remain so for a while. No one must hear.
Leonie tried to calm the wild beating of her heart, prepared to withstand the worst from this large brute. Long shaggy hair and a thick beard suited his rough manner. Murky blue eyes impaled her with a strange light, unnerving her badly. But it was Richer’s slow grin that made her stomach turn over in terror.
Chapter 7
IN Crewel that night, a different kind of fear was taking its toll on Lady Amelia. She did not want to be sent back to court where she had been just another of Princess Alice’s ladies-in-waiting, just another pretty face among so many. She had no power there, no control over her own life. She must forever dance attendance on the princess, do her bidding, suffer her moods.
A landless widow without relatives could expect few prospects. More important, Amelia had found being a wife not nearly as desirable as being a mistress. She had been her husband’s mistress before they wed and her circumstances changed so drastically afterward that she was not at all displeased when he died. A man will not strive to please his wife as he does his mistress, for a wife cannot leave him, while a mistress can.
She knew, too, that the quality of lovemaking from a husband could not be compared with that of a lover. Perhaps the church had much to do with that, preaching that lovemaking was solely for procreation and not to be enjoyed. Amelia’s husband had been an attentive lover until they wed, and then he looked on their joining as a duty and, like other duties, best done quickly.