By Queen's Grace Read online

  “The king is back from Normandy?”

  “He is.” Gerard smiled. “You will be happy to learn he intends to bestow a handsome reward on whoever returns Judith safely to his care. It seems Alexander of Scotland has been hard on Henry’s nerves over an apparent lack of protection for a certain Canmore heiress. When these two kings find out that you have also saved England from a rebellion and Scotland from a good deal of embarrassment, I imagine the reward will grow larger. I do believe you are about to become a rich man, Corwin.”

  Corwin rose from his chair and tossed his goblet into the empty bucket. “I do not want their reward.”

  “Now I know you have had too much ale.”

  Corwin shook his head. “They can keep their coin or land. I want none of it.”

  “Corwin, that is…witless.”

  Corwin picked up the list of lords’ names, scanned them, wishing he’d had but one more day at Norgate. “Nay, ‘tis simply a matter of refusing one reward for another. You are right. Henry is spared a war for his crown. If Alexander had imprisoned Ruford instead of banishing him, the rebellion would not have had a ready Saxon noble to rally around. Both neglected to protect Judith. I can give the kings names, not only of Ruford Clark, but his captains. I wish I knew if these lords supported the rebellion or were intended victims, but mayhap that is for Henry and Alexander to ponder. Either way, I do deserve a reward, a hefty one.”

  “You have a reward in mind. What?”

  “Judith Canmore.”

  Gerard’s initial surprise faded to disbelief, then to deep thought. Corwin silently watched his overlord’s reactions, sure only of that, in the end, he could trust Gerard.

  Gerard rose from his chair. “Corwin, Judith Canmore is-”

  “Mine. She is mine, if she will have me.”

  “-an heiress. A Canmore. Her royal heritage runs thick in her blood.”

  “And I love her despite it. Gerard, as you love Ardith, so I love Judith. As you once risked all-Wilmont, your very life-for my sister, so I am prepared to do for Judith.”

  Gerard lowered his head, then raised it again. “The difference being that I risked all from a position of power. I hate to say this, Corwin, but you are not a Norman baron with the power to risk the king’s wrath and come out unscathed.”

  Corwin smiled. “No, I am not. Which is why I am very grateful that my brother-by-marriage is a Norman baron who can help me figure out how to get what I want. I also have another Norman brother-by-marriage who is a valued advisor of the king’s. What good are the two of you if you cannot help me on occasion?”

  That gave Gerard pause, but he recovered quickly, and with a wry smile. “Now I need an ale. What makes you think Judith will accept your suit?”

  She loves me.

  “She loves me, she says. We have done far more these past three nights than sleep.”

  “Oh, that complicates matters nicely.” Gerard came around the table and laid a hand on Corwin’s shoulder. “Corwin, be very sure it is love Judith feels and not gratitude or mere lust. If we embark on this venture, not only will your resolve be tested severely, hers will be as well. I can assure you, Henry will not give her over easily. Now, what say we see how our women fare?”

  Side by side they took the stairway down into the hall. At the bottom, Gerard called out to his steward. “Walter, I need our swiftest messenger and the captain of my guard. Now.”

  Corwin turned toward the hearth. Two of his sisters sat there. Bronwyn, who’d come to aid Ardith during the birthing, and whose Norman husband, Kester, could be trusted for help. And Ardith, who held her firstborn, Everart, a lad of three years. At her feet a child of six, Daymon, Gerard’s illegitimate son, sprawled on his belly, his chin in his hands. Gerard’s mother, Ursula, worked a spindle.

  All looked entranced at Judith, who was obviously.telling some story-and cradling a baby in her arms.

  The sight hit him square in the heart. This was what he wanted. Judith as his wife, a child or two or ten. A family. Was it possible Judith could already be with child?

  The longer he looked at her, holding Ardith’s child, the more he hoped the deed done. He walked toward her, wondering if it was possible to accomplish such a feat in three nights. Three bliss-filled, incredible nights. They would have one more, at the least. Tonight. In a bed, in an upstairs chamber. On the morrow they would leave for London.

  Daymon got up and ran toward him. Corwin caught the boy and lifted him up. “Corwin, did you really fight four men at one time and prevail over all?”

  Apparently, Judith had been telling their tale, too, and had done so in Norman French for the benefit of Gerard’s mother, who understood not a word of English. The others in the small group who’d been listening to Judith understood and used both.

  Corwin easily slipped into the language of the nobility. He leaned close to Daymon’s ear and whispered, “Truly, only three. I had already vanquished one when the others attacked. But let us keep the secret and not ruin her ladyship’s tale.”

  Daymon nodded. A lock of golden blond hair that matched his father’s and half brother’s fell into his eyes. “‘Twould be rude to ruin her tale.”

  “That it would,” Corwin said, giving the boy a hug and putting him down, only to find Bronwyn standing before him, tears in her eyes.

  Unlike Ardith, who’d nearly knocked him over with a greeting, Bronwyn gave him a modest hug and quick kiss on the cheek. Also unlike Ardith, who preferred simplicity in manner and dress, upon her marriage to a wealthy Norman, Bronwyn had reveled in her life at court and newfound wealth. Corwin couldn’t help but wonder at the cost of her emerald silk gown, heavily decorated with gold thread.

  Though Bronwyn loved her family and truly adored her husband, Corwin knew her tears weren’t for him. She wouldn’t have fretted over the safety of her younger brother as deeply as Ardith had worried over her twin. He brushed away the tear that escaped her eye. “What is this?” he asked, suspicious.

  “Do you know, Corwin, how affective a tale Lady Judith tells? I suspect she embellishes, for the boy’s sake. Still, she makes you sound almost.heroic.”

  He leaned toward her, his eyes narrowed. “Are you saying I cannot be heroic?”

  She smiled, wide and brilliantly. “Nay, silly. I know you have dash with a sword and a devotion to duty. ‘Tis not so much the tale she tells as how she tells it. Most entertaining and moving. I am so glad you brought her here before going on to London. I can now tell everyone I heard the tale first. My thanks, little brother.”

  He’d given her something to brag about at court, the reason for her gratitude. “Happy to oblige.”

  Still beaming, she turned and flounced back toward the hearth. As they followed her, Gerard rolled his eyes and shook his head. Corwin held back his laughter.

  After a quick greeting to Gerard’s mother, and chucking little Everart under the chin, Corwin leaned over the newest member of the family, still firmly cradled in Judith’s arms.

  “Who have we here?” he said, tugging the blanket aside to get a better view.

  “This is Matthew,” Judith said, gazing down. “Is he not the most adorable baby ever?”

  Was it wistfulness he heard in her voice, or did all women grow emotional over babies? On closer inspection, he decided Judith had a point.

  “Well, Ardith, you did it right this time. Brown hair. Blue eyes. He looks like us. Well done!”

  Through the round of laughter, Corwin heard the sound of booted feet hurrying across the plank floor. Gerard’s messenger and captain had arrived with far more haste than Ruford’s men had when summoned, yanking Corwin back to the business at hand.

  “Ardith, have you a chamber ready for Judith?”

  Her eyes went wide with horror. “Oh, dear! I was so busy listening to her story I forgot.”

  Ardith made to get up, but Bronwyn pushed her back down. “You are not running away from me again. Lady Judith may have the chamber I was using until I took a pallet in the nursery. My trunks a
re in there, but the chamber is clean and the bed linens fresh. I will get a maid or two to show her up.”

  “I will do it,” Corwin said. “Which chamber?”

  Bronwyn’s eyes narrowed. “The one you normally use when in residence. But Corwin-”

  He interrupted the upcoming protest regarding propriety.

  “As you have heard, the lady and I have had a long journey, and we have much to discuss on how to proceed from here. When we are finished, I will send for maids.”

  Judith rose from her chair. “He is right, Lady Bronwyn,” she said, and handed the baby over to Bronwyn’s care. “Our tale is not yet finished. We have much to discuss and I would prefer to do so privately.”

  Bronwyn bowed her head. “As my lady wishes.”

  Bronwyn relented, Corwin knew, not because she wanted to, but because of Judith’s royalty. Of everyone here, Bronwyn knew her place within the strict confines of the classes. His sister’s quick acquiescence and deference brought home just how difficult getting his reward might be.

  Provided Judith wanted it, too, and was willing to stay the course. She’d said she loved him, had taken him as her lover. But was she willing to accept the censure of two kings, give up a life of privilege, to be the wife of a noteven-noble Saxon knight?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Judith entered the bedchamber, noting how the same cozy feeling prevailed in this room as in the hall below. Open shutters admitted light. A huge, drapery-enclosed bed dominated the room. A small table near the bed held a basin and towel. A high-backed chair stood in the corner near a brazier.

  Three enormous trunks lined the far wall. Bronwyn’s trunks. Likely filled with gowns of the same splendor as the emerald silk she wore this morn. One would think Bronwyn intended to live at Wilmont forever and beyond instead of merely visiting to help Ardith with the new baby.

  A precious baby. A tiny new life made more dear because he so resembled his mother, and thus Corwin.

  Judith didn’t need to look back to know Corwin had followed her into the chamber and closed the door. She felt him there, her awareness of him heightened by knowing he sometimes used this chamber as his own.

  Judith ignored the bed as best she could while walking over to the window. The view without included the portion of the bailey where merchants’ shops lined the high palisade that surrounded Wilmont. Beyond the palisade she could make out only the tops of trees from the nearby woodland.

  How many times had she looked out a high window of Romsey Abbey, wishing she were free to go roam among the trees? She’d done so the morning of her kidnapping, and then convinced Sister Mary Margaret and others to escape with her.

  “‘Tis nearly over, is it not, our adventure?” she said,

  perversely wishing it wasn’t.

  “Almost,” Corwin answered. He came to stand beside

  her and share the view out the window.

  “What happens now?”

  Corwin pointed toward Wilmont’s gate, where soldiers and horses were gathering. “Gerard sends men to Norgate, to rout any of the rebels who may still be there. I have a feeling ‘tis a useless venture. Ruford knows we will tell authorities of his stronghold and his purpose. I imagine the troops have moved from Norgate, if not scattered throughout the kingdom.”

  Judith didn’t care what happened to the troops, only to the man who’d vowed to hunt them all down and take his revenge.

  “And Ruford?”

  Corwin shrugged a shoulder. “If he stays in England or Scotland, he will be captured eventually. Gerard also sends a messenger to London, who will inform the king that you are here and safe, and give him the information we have on the rebellion. Henry will not only increase the palace guards but send word to a number of his trusted vassals and have the seaports watched closely. What the king wants, the king usually gets, and he will want Ruford Clark with a passion.”

  Just as she wanted Corwin.

  She’d always known this time would come. Letting Corwin go to get on with his life was the hardest thing she would ever do. He would come to London with her, for King Henry would want to question him extensively on the rebellion. There was likely a reward waiting for him to collect. He certainly deserved a reward for all he’d done. Then Corwin would leave London, and she might never see him again.

  She didn’t want to think about the reward Henry likely had waiting for her. Marriage, to some high-born, wealthy noble. A man who would lock her up within a strong castle and keep her there so Henry needn’t worry about her anymore. Corwin had the right of it. What the king wanted, the king usually got, and Henry would marry her off where he thought it would bring him the most benefit.

  “I imagine we leave here soon,” she said.

  “On the morn.”

  “We will not be alone this time.”

  He gave a short burst of laughter. “Nay. Gerard will provide an escort worthy of your rank, I can assure you. Nor will the earth be your bed any longer. We will spend tomorrow night at an abbey halfway between Wilmont and London. The abbot will give you the best bed to be had in the ladies’ court. The day after, we will go to Westminster.”

  She’d rather sleep on the ground, in a patch of long grass, with Corwin beside her-loving her so thoroughly she couldn’t help but fall into a contented sleep when done.

  She edged closer to him, to the man she already missed with all her heart. Her ire rose against the unfairness of having to give up the one man she would ever love. What good did her royal blood do her when it made happiness impossible?

  Corwin put his arm around her shoulders and continued to stare out the window. He would miss her, too, she knew, at least for a while. Until some other woman took her place in his bed, maybe even engaged his affections. Became his wife.

  She shoved the future to where it belonged, beyond her ability to change. For now, she belonged beside Corwin, and a huge, drapery-enclosed bed stood only a few feet away. Mercy, she’d become a wanton in a short time, ready to tear the chain mail off Corwin with the slightest encouragement.

  “I have given a great deal of thought to what form the king’s reward will take,” he said.

  “Land and coin,” she said immediately. “‘Tis the norm. The only question is where and how much.”

  He nodded. “All I have is one small manor, Lenvil. The demesne is not large but serves my needs. It boasts a village and church. The people are hardworking and friendly, and pay their rents on time. ‘Tis not much, but more than many have.”

  “Now you will have more. If one of the holdings within the reward suits you, you can make another manor your home.”

  He shook his head. “Lenvil will ever be my home, so long as Gerard sees fit to let me keep it. I truly do not wish for another. I have no need for the king’s land or coin.”

  ‘Twas the first she’d ever heard of a man who had no wish for money or land. In wealth and property were power, and those who owned it ruled.

  “What will you do with the reward then?”

  “I am thinking of refusing it.”

  Shocked, she blurted out, “Refuse? Corwin, that is.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked with amusement. “Gerard called me witless.”

  ‘Twas as good a word as any. “All right then, witless.

  You deserve a reward, and must take what is offered or you insult the king.”

  “Oh, I deserve a reward. So do you. I am hoping we might agree on what form the reward might take.”

  Confused, she tossed up her hands. “I will have no say, nor will you. ‘Tis for the king to decide.”

  “What if I asked for something in particular, something I want above everything? Might he listen and consider it?”

  “Mayhap, if what you ask for is within his power to grant.”

  “He is the only one who can.” Corwin ran a hand through his hair. “I know I do this badly, but I fear to.ah, hell. I have no right to ask for what I want, and at a word from you will take what Henry offers and go my way.” He turned sligh
tly and gripped her shoulders. “I have no place within your world. You move in circles I am only permitted to view from a respectable distance. I am not of royal blood or even noble, merely a landed knight.”

  Corwin took a deep breath. Judith held hers, hardly daring to hope where his words and upset seemed to be leading.

  He cupped her face in his large, warm hands and said softly, “I love you, Judith, and want you as my wife. I intend to turn down whatever reward Henry offers and ask for you. I swear, if you agree, I will fight heaven and hell and Henry to make it happen.”

  Judith’s heart swelled to beyond bearable. “Say it again, Corwin, just so I am sure I heard you aright.”

  “I love you, Judith.”

  She grabbed hold of his chain mail, tugged him down and kissed him hard. “I love you, too.”

  “Be my wife.”

  “Find a priest.”

  He wrapped her in his arms, held her close. “Ah, my love, if I thought for one moment that Henry would not have our heads, I would. For myself, I would risk it. But I will not endanger you or Gerard.”

  If they married without Henry’s permission, the king would not only punish them for doing so, but punish Gerard for allowing it. Corwin would risk himself, but no one he loved.

  Corwin loves me. But love rarely played a part in royal marriages. Political alliances were considered first and above all.

  “Oh, Corwin, do you think it possible? I fear to hope.”

  “I wish I could give you some surety, but there is none. Many besides the king will object. Right now, having done the king a great service, we are in the best position to have our petition granted. Gerard will help us, as will Bronwyn’s husband,’ Kester. We can but ask. Much may depend upon our resolve.”

  She smiled up at him. “I can be quite stubborn when I set my mind to it. Only talk to Abbess Christina. She and I had some mighty rows over my refusal to take vows.”

  “This will be different. We will face the court’s censure as well as the king’s disapproval. Standing firm may be harder than either of us imagines.”