Page 115

Masters of Medieval Romance: Series Starters Volume II Page 115

by Kathryn Le Veque


All the while, however, Val was entrenched in perhaps the greatest inner turmoil he’d ever experienced, knowing he’d been lied to by men he had once trusted. He also thought of McCloud, another old friend who had fooled him greatly. Was it possible that he was becoming too trusting of men in general? His mother was such a cynical, mistrustful woman, but she was also a good deal older than he was. Perhaps she’d learned what it meant to be wary of men in general. And Val, who seemed to have faith in honorable men, now found himself in a terrible position that could cost him everything.

Something in him, at that moment, changed forever.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

In the midst of the winter’s dark night, the torches from the walls of Selborne made it seem as if there was hope in that darkness, piercing the night with tiny pricks of light.

Vesper and McCloud could see the torches of Selborne in the distance as they approached under a clear night, a half-moon in the sky lighting their way. It was a comforting sight. The road was muddy from the melting snow and travel had been slow, but they’d managed to make it to Selborne in two days, riding long into the night as they had.

Vesper, who had some money of her own that she’d earned from sewing garments for Lady Eynsford, had brought her coinage with her and they’d slept at a tavern the night before. At least, she’d had a bed but McCloud had slept in the common room. His daughter had paid for his meal but he seemed strangely against allowing her to rent him a bed, so he’d slept on the floor by the enormous hearth quite happily.

They’d pushed onward early the next morning to Selborne and were now arriving as the evening meal was being served. The smells of cooking meat were wafting upon the cold air, a pungent and delicious smell. Having not eaten since the morning, Vesper and McCloud were both famished. With rumbling stomachs, they proceeded up the road leading to Selborne, a road that seemed to go on forever until, finally, the great gatehouse arose in the darkness before them.

The castle was bottled up tightly at this time of night but it took very little for the soldiers on watch to open the gates to two lonely travelers. In fact, Mayne, who was still on the wall, noticed that it was Lady Vesper and her father so he quickly had the men usher the pair in. By the time they passed beneath the gatehouse and into the bailey, Mayne had come down from the wall to greet them.

“My lady,” he said, motioning men to come forward and help the lady from her horse. “I apologize that we did not meet you out on the road. We were not advised of your arrival.”

Vesper climbed off her horse, stiffly. She’d been sitting in that saddle for hours and her legs were like jelly. “We did not send word ahead,” she said. “Is Sir Val here?”

Mayne nodded. “Aye, my lady,” he said. “He is in the great hall. Will you permit me to escort you there?”

Hearing that Val was at Selborne filled Vesper with relief; she honestly didn’t know if he would be there. She half-expected to come to a castle empty of him and trying to explain her presence to Val’s mother. Not knowing if the woman knew about the events over the past few weeks, it would make for a delicate conversation.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to worry about that, at least not at the moment. As Mayne politely took her elbow to escort her to the hall, a soldier handed over her satchel, which had been strapped to the saddle of her horse. With her bag in-hand, Vesper didn’t waste any time. She headed for the hall, practically pulling Mayne and her father along as she marched.

With every step, thoughts of Val grew. Vesper had already planned what she was going to say to him. In fact, it was all very simple. She would tell him that it didn’t matter what she’d heard because she didn’t believe any of it. Thinking of tall, proud Val, she was fully willing to believe that the news from Canterbury had been a lie because the Val she knew was not capable of what that horrible Canterbury soldier said he had done and nothing in the world could convince her otherwise. That was her official position on the matter.

Still….

Val had executed her brother, so she knew he would do his duty no matter what. He was, indeed, capable of deadly force. But to kill the archbishop on Henry’s command? Val wasn’t an assassin. He was a man who enforced laws, a man respected and loved. He wasn’t a man who could be paid to kill like a mercenary. But if Henry had asked such a thing of him, to kill the king’s nemesis, then Val would have to do as he was ordered.

So… perhaps he was capable of such things.

It was the argument she’d been rolling around in her head for days, ever since she’d heard the tale of the archbishop’s assassin from that despicable soldier. All she knew was that she had to reaffirm her support to Val, so much so that she’d fled Eynsford, traveling in winter to reach the man she clearly adored. She’d been so very foolish, denying her feelings for Val and floundering in confusion because of it. But those days were ended – no more separation, no more ridiculousness. It was time to confess what was in her heart and stand by it.

No matter what.

Vesper approached the entry to the great hall with Mayne on one side of her and her father on the other. The doors were slightly cracked, heat and light emitting from the interior. She could hear voices beyond, men drinking and laughing, and her heart began to race. She was so excited to see Val that she simply couldn’t help it. When Mayne finally opened the door for her, she realized that she was trembling. He was here, somewhere.

She had to see him.

The stale heat from the hall slapped her in the face as she entered, her gaze going immediately to the alcove where they had sat the last time she was here. But there were two tables full of men between the door and the alcove, and it was difficult to see that side of the hall in general. Mayne pointed towards the alcove, in fact, and walked her around the edge of the room to protect her from any drunken soldiers who might try to take a swipe at her. They were halfway to the alcove when Val was suddenly appeared.

“Vesper!” he said, sounding stunned. “God’s Bones… is it really you?”

His abrupt presence startled her. Vesper found herself gazing up into that handsome face, more handsome than she had remembered, and her voice caught in her throat. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing would come forth. Tears stung her eyes, hearing his beautiful voice fill her ears. All she could do was nod, eagerly.

“Aye,” she finally managed to say. “I… I hope I am welcome.”

Val looked at her as if that very question pained him. He put his hands on her arms, something that might have been considered an improper touch. She was a maiden, unpledged, and he was an unmarried man, and the two simply did not touch in public. But Val had a grip on her, so tightly that it was as if he never intended to let her go.

“Of course you are welcome,” he said gently. “You are more welcome than you know. But what has happened? Why are you here?”

Vesper didn’t want to give her reason aloud; she looked around, nervously, seeing unfamiliar men looking at her but no sign of Margaretha. She swallowed hard.

“Nothing has happened to me,” she said, her voice trembling. “But… Val, I must speak with you. May we go someplace private?”

Val nodded before the question even left her mouth. “Of course,” he said. Then, he eyed her. “Are… are you sure you are well?”

“I am well.”

“Then it must be very important if you have traveled all this way from Eynsford.”

“It is. Very important.”

Val nodded again, managing to pull his gaze from her in his quest to locate someplace private where they could speak but, in doing so, he caught sight of McCloud standing a few feet behind his daughter. His expression shifted from soft and warm to suspicious and cool.

“What is your father doing here?” he asked.

Vesper turned to look at McCloud, who was looking at Val warily. “If you will feed him, I will tell you everything,” she said to Val. “He means no harm, I promise.”

Val’s expression didn’t change. “You will forgive me fo
r being wary of that statement.”

Vesper nodded, putting her hand up to touch his wrist. “I know,” she said softly. “Please, Val. Feed him and allow me to speak with you.”

Because she asked it of him, he agreed. Motioning to Calum, who was sitting at the table in the alcove with his wife, he indicated McCloud to the man and Calum understood to keep watch of him. As Calum took Vesper’s father in-hand, Val took Vesper by the hand and quickly led her to the far end of the hall where the stairs led up to the loft above. The clavichordium was up there, but the instrument wasn’t his focus. The loft was a private place to speak as the noise of the hall went on below them.

The darkened stairs dumped them out into the cluttered loft. It was warm up here and smoky from the fire blazing in the hearth. Val took Vesper over by the clavichordium simply because there was a stool there. He set her upon it, still holding her hand, and she perched on the stool gratefully. But he watched her as she shifted around on it, trying to find a comfortable position. When Vesper noticed that he was observing her with some concern, she smiled weakly.

“We have been riding since before dawn,” she said. “My backside is a bit sore.”

Val understood. “That has happened to me on more than one occasion,” he said. Then, he crouched in front of her, still holding her hand. His gaze upon her was intense. “I still cannot believe you are here. I… I am truly speechless.”

Vesper smiled weakly. “I understand your surprise,” she said. “I know you did not expect to see me so soon, if ever.”

He shook his head. “I knew I would see you again, but you are correct – not so soon.”

Vesper wasn’t quite sure how to begin the conversation after that. “I had everything planned out in my head as I would say it, but now as I look at you… I have never been very good at the coy games that men and women play. I have always spoken what is on my mind, so I am afraid that what I say will not be pretty or eloquent.”

He squeezed her hand. “I would prefer honesty to pretty speeches and unnecessary words,” he said. “But before you say anything, I must speak. If you are here about the necklace, I have not sent it to you not because I did not want to, but because I have not had the opportunity. I have not changed my mind about you or about anything else. I still feel the same as I did that day we parted in Bishop’s Waltham.”

Vesper sighed heavily, so heavily that she closed her eyes, hanging her head with relief. Sweet Jesù, she had hoped to hear those words.

“I am so very glad to hear that,” she said softly. “Because that is why I have come. I know the day of my brother’s execution was a chaotic day at best. We were thrown into a great deal of turmoil, both of us, and I suggested we part company to think on our true feelings for each other because I thought it was the right thing to do. But I must admit that I was wrong. No amount of separation could change my feelings for you. I did not mean to chase you away on that day.”

A smile filled his expression. For all of the relief she was feeling, he seemed to be feeling the same. “You did not,” he said, bringing her hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. “And no amount of separation could change my feelings for you, either. But you did not have to come all the way to Selborne to tell me this; you could have sent a missive and I would have moved heaven and earth to come to Eynsford to see you.”

His tender kisses were sending bolts of lightning up her arm and her heart, already racing at the sight of him, was in danger of bursting. “I would have,” she said. “But I came because I heard some very troubling news at Eynsford. I felt compelled to come to you, to tell you that no matter what happens, I will stand by you. You must know that there is at least one person in England who still believes you are noble and wise.”

The smile faded from his lips. “What did you hear?”

“That you assassinated the Archbishop of Canterbury,” she said. Then, quickly: “I do not care if it is true. I did not come to ask you that. But soldiers from Canterbury Castle stopped at Eynsford on their way to London bearing the message that you had assassinated the archbishop. I thought they were lying and told them so, but if they are spreading such lies, then surely others are, too, and many people will hear. I thought… I thought that it would bring hateful people to you, trying to harass you, and I wanted you to know that I do not believe their lies. I thought you would want to know that someone in this world still has faith in you.”

Her words melted his heart. He settled back on his buttocks, sitting on the wooden-planked floor of the loft while still holding her hand. He averted his gaze a moment, trying to think on what he should tell her, exactly, but because she had been forthright with him, he decided the best course of action would be to be equally forthright with her.

It was time for total honesty.

“That you would risk yourself to come here tonight tells me all I need to know about you,” he murmured. “You are a woman of great bravery and great loyalty, and that makes me the richest man in all of England. It is true that I was there when the archbishop was murdered but I did not kill him. It is a great mistake that I am being blamed for, however. I am sorry you had to hear about it from others.”

Vesper had to admit that she was hugely relieved to hear that he was innocent. “May… may I ask what happened?” she asked. “I know I said I did not come to ask you if it was true, but I cannot understand how you could be mistaken for an assassin.”

Val shifted position, turning so he was sitting alongside her as she sat on the little stool. Very carefully, he lowered his head onto her lap in a moment he would remember for the rest of his life. It was sheer bliss, the softness and warmth of her surrounding him, easing his troubled mind. He’d spent the past several days in such turmoil that he was certain he’d never feel any comfort in his life again, not ever.

Up until the moment he saw Vesper coming through the doors of the great hall, he continued to wallow in that turmoil, his thoughts on riding to Winchester on the morrow to face Henry. His life, his reputation, was in so many pieces that it would be difficult to put them back together again. But the moment he saw Vesper, everything changed.

There was light and beauty and warmth left in the world.

He couldn’t believe he’d been foolish enough to think that he would distance himself from her simply to keep her away from the troubles that were descending on him. Perhaps he was weak in not sending her away this very moment, letting his emotions rule him and not his head. But her support meant so very much to him that he couldn’t send her away, not now. Not when he needed what she was offering.

With his head in her lap, it was comfort such as he’d never known and when her hand timidly touched his head, stroking his dark hair, all was right in the world. He never wanted to be separated from her, not ever. Therefore, he dreaded saying what he needed to.

“What I tell you must never leave yours lips,” he murmured.

Vesper cradled his big head on her lap, her fingers in his wavy, dark hair. “I would never repeat what you tell me, I swear it.”

He believed her and continued on with his sordid tale. “There was evidently a plot to murder Canterbury and I was unknowingly caught up in it,” he said. “Now, whoever has created this plot is attempting to make me guilty for it. Tomorrow, I must ride to Henry at Winchester Castle and tell him what has happened. I saw four knights, men who I thought were honorable men, murder Thomas Becket. I did not participate. In fact, I stopped them from doing worse damage. But because I was placed at the scene by witnesses, I am being blamed.”

Vesper closed her eyes briefly, indicative of the anguish of his confession. “I am so sorry,” she whispered. “You are a true and noble man, Val. For these evil men to try and blame you for such a thing… it will not work. I am confident that God knows of your innocence and He will not let you fall.”

Val sighed faintly. “I am not concerned with God at the moment, only Henry,” he said. “He and Canterbury were friends from long ago. Although they have been in contention for the past se
veral years, it was not always like that. I fear that Henry will take Canterbury’s death very hard and will seek to punish those involved.”

“Like you?”

“Possibly.”

Vesper didn’t like the sound of that at all. Fear began to clutch at her. “But Henry knows you too well, does he not?” she said. “He appointed you his itinerant justice, which means he must trust you greatly. Do you truly think something like this would change his mind regarding you?”

Val was feeling so much comfort as she stroked his hair that he was becoming drowsy with it. He’d hardly slept the past several days and, now, all of his exhaustion was catching up to him. Something about her touch, her mere presence, built a cocoon around him that made him feel as if everything in the world was right, just for that brief moment.

“I cannot know,” he said. “I wish I could predict how he will react, but I truthfully cannot know. But one thing is for certain, Vesper – if he punishes me, then I do not want you to be punished also. It would break my heart if something happened to you because of me.”

Vesper could feel the sorrow radiating from the man. The fingers in his hair moved to his cheek and she put a soft, warm palm on his face.

“I am not afraid,” she said quietly, firmly.

Her touch was like heaven and he closed his eyes to it, savoring it. “I know you are not. But I am. As much as it pains me to say this, for now, you should distance yourself from me. I am not the itinerant justice you knew when we first met. Now, I am a suspect in a murder that will shake England to its very foundation. You should not be associated with me.”

“And, yet, here I am.”

“But….”

She cut him off gently. “Let me tell you what I have learned during our separation, Val,” she said. “When I left you at Bishop’s Waltham, I told you that I was afraid for your reputation should you be associated with a family of murderers. I was afraid of how it would reflect upon all you have built for yourself. I told you that something dark and terrible had happened to damage our relationship and you said that you felt it could be mended. You never wavered on that opinion. Now, I tell you – whatever plot you have been pulled in to and whatever the rest of England may think of you, I know differently. I am not afraid or ashamed to be associated with you. You once told me that you were unconcerned being related to the House of d’Avignon. I tell you now that I am unconcerned being related to the House of de Nerra. Whatever happens, I will stay by your side.”