Lady Gallant (39 page)

Read Lady Gallant Online

Authors: Suzanne Robinson

BOOK: Lady Gallant
5.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

It was Tideman's turn to blush. "Forgive me, Lady Montfort. The master confided to me that you wished to become more acquainted with him before occupying the same chambers. I hope you understand that I have known Lord Montfort since he was in swaddling clothes, and he oftentimes entrusts me with his confidence. It is unfortunate that this snarl occurred upon the eve of your closer union."

"Yes, yes, unfortunate," she babbled. She would say anything to get away. "And I do understand."

Catching Arthur by the hand, Nora fled the kitchen before Tideman could embarrass her further. The man was so concerned for her, and she had to lie to him.

"Lady," Arthur said when they entered her chamber, "the monster might come back."

Arthur had taken to calling Lord Montfort the monster after Nora had told him as much as she felt he was able to understand about her husband's treatment of her.

"He's going to be so busy hunting for me," she said, "he won't have time to return. Blade will see to it by laying a false trail. You'll see."

And so she and Arthur established themselves as the sole occupants of Falaise, though several days passed before Nora could fee! secure in her ruse. She even moved herself to a better chamber, larger and with windows that looked out over the front courtyard. Her security lasted a day. On the eve of the fifth day, she and Arthur were spinning tops in front of the fireplace in the hall when one of the lower sections of a window burst open.

"Kit, you pretty piece of manflesh, where are you?"

Tops skittered and smacked against the fireplace. Arthur gave a startled cry and Nora whirled in a flurry of skirts to face the intruder. A painted, leering face goggled at them. A bleary-eyed gaze roamed over Nora and Arthur, dismissing them. The head wagged back and forth, bobbing a tangle of false blond curls, and the smell of ale wafted toward Nora.

The painted mouth opened, and the intruder bawled, "Kiiiiiiiit. It's Sybille. Kiiiiiiiiiiiiiit."

Nora covered her ears, and Arthur giggled. As the woman continued to bawl for Lord Montfort, Nora heard Tideman's running steps. The steward rushed into the hall, then halted abruptly at the sight of the woman. Nora cringed at Sybille's high screech, and her temper gave way. How dare this bawd stick her head into Nora's house and bellow for the man who was her husband? Marching up to Sybille, Nora made a fist and pounded the top of the woman's head three times.

"Be quiet."

"Ouch. Here, love, there's no call for blows. I know I'm late, but I didn't get word of Kit's invitation till yesterday. Where is that man? I haven't had a taste in months."

Nora decided she didn't like Sybille. "He isn't here."

"Ow. My head hurts."

"You're drunk," Tideman said. "Get you from this house, woman. How did you get in?"

"I've been getting into houses of gentry morts since I was a dell."

Nora stepped closer to the window and found that Sybille not only smelled of ale but also was drenched. Her curly hair was wet, and her soggy clothes gave off a musty odor.

"You swam the moat," Nora said in disbelief.

"Can I swim the moat, too?" Arthur asked as he trotted up behind her.

Nora groaned. " No."

"Get you gone, woman," Tideman repeated.

His reply was a snore as Sybille's head dropped to the windowsill.

"I'll remove her, my lady."

"No," Nora said. "Give her the room next to mine."

"But my lady—"

"She's soaked and in a stupor. If we cast her out, she could die of exposure or be set upon. Put her upstairs, please."

"Yes, my lady."

The following afternoon Nora entered the room she had assigned to the bawd Sybille, with Arthur marching behind her, laden with a pile of clothing. Nora carried a tray, which she placed on a stool beside the bed where Sybille lay curled in a ball. The woman pressed her hands to her forehead and groaned.

"Who's making all that noise? Ooooh."

"Mistress Sybille, you've swilled yourself into a stupor, and I've come to help you."

"Leave me alone." Sybille hunched her body so that her bottom stuck up in the air and her head burrowed into the mattress. "Tell Kit not to worry, I'll be ready to tup in a day or two. Oh, my head."

"Tup?"

Nora's benevolence expired in flames. She yanked the covers from Sybille and smacked the waving bottom. Sybille howled and scrambled away while Arthur clapped his hands and laughed.

"Arthur, this woman isn't fit company for you. Go help Tideman."

"Yes, my lady."

His disappointment marked by his slow steps, Arthur left them reluctantly after depositing his burden of clothing on the bed.

Nora put her hands on her hips and studied Sybille. The woman crouched as far away from her as she could get and peered at Nora through a tangle
of
snarled and matted hair. Pointing to the tray, Nora ground out her words.

"Drink that."

"What is it?"

"A brew of camomile and other herbs."

"Ech. No thanks, my lady. Where's Kit?"

Nora flew at the woman, grabbed a handful of tangles, and yanked her over to the edge of the bed.

"Ooooow! You pissing bitch. Oooow!"

Shaking her victim by the hair, Nora shouted above Sybille's protests, "Be quiet or I'll dunk you in the moat!"

Sybille was in no condition to fight. Clapping both hands over her mouth, she groaned and subsided. Nora released her hair and poured a cup of the herbal tea.

"Drink."

"Naaah."

"Remember the moat," Nora said.

Sybille took the cup in shaking hands and sipped. "Blehh."

Not waiting for another refusal, Nora shoved the cup to Sybille's lips and held it there until the woman had drained it. When released, the bawd gagged and spat, but Nora was back quickly with more tea. Four cups later, Nora allowed her patient to collapse.

"Eeeeeewww. I'm dying."

"You won't be in an hour or so. I'll send up a tub at that time, and I want you to scrub and put those clothes on. And Mistress Sybille, don't go looking for my husband. He's not here."

"Bloody witch."

"I'll see you anon, Mistress Sybille."

Several hours later, Nora sat opposite a transformed Sybille. She eyed the woman's wildly curling hair and generous figure and began to doubt the wisdom of the plan she'd conceived during the night.

"God's bloody arse," Sybille said, "I feel wonderful, and I'm obliged to you, lady." She stuffed a meat pasty in her mouth and spoke at the same time. "Too baa Ah misshed Kit." Swallow. "Might as well go back to town."

"Don't go."

Sybille wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, took a gulp of ale, and burped. "Why?"

"You're a thief and a… a…"

"Whore, lady, a damned good whore. Ask your lord husband."

"How would you like to spend the evening in the pigpen?"

"You just try it." Sybille began to rise from the table.

Nora sighed. "Enough of this arguing. If you'll listen, I've a bargain to strike with you."

"Well, hurry up, I want to get out of this place. That steward gives me the runs."

"Please, Mistress Sybille."

With little grace, the bawd plopped back down on the bench opposite Nora.

"As I said, you're a thief, and you seem to know how to�to get your way and to take care of yourself. The way my husband does, and I would like you to teach me."

"Why?"

"I need to know."

Sybille stared at Nora, and Nora stared back, but she couldn't keep a flush from stealing up her neck to her face.

"Well, stick me in a roomful of new-landed sailors."

"What?"

"Our Kit's too much for the likes of you, is he?" Sybille threw back her head and crowed. "I'm not surprised, love. He plies the whip like a slavemaster. Trouble is, he makes you like it."

Nora bit her lip to keep it still and to forestall tears. "I don't like it."

Sybille was quiet. She stuck her face close to Nora's and remained there for long moments, staring. "No, I can see that." Sybille backed off and leaned her elbows on the table. "Word in the stews is that Kit's gone and lost his heart to a shy little dove with blue blood and no stomach."

"I don't know," Nora said. "But he grinds me under his heel, and I can't have that. Not anymore."

Sybille tossed her head. "Do you mean to tell me you're still afraid of him? Silly chuck."

"I need to learn how to take care of myself and Arthur."

"What you mean is you want to snatch the whip from Kit's pretty hands and make him feel its kiss for once."

"Something like that."

"It will take some doing."

"I know."

"God's blood, I'd love to see Kit at the mercy of a woman, just once. There's a lot of us that would."

"Then you'll teach me?"

Sybille picked up another meat pasty and bit into it. Smiling through bits of crust, she nodded.

"For my room and board and a little extra, I'll show you enough to pit yourself against any coney catcher in the kingdom. Maybe a few tricks of the flesh as well."

Sybille swallowed and wiped her moth. " 'Course, we're going to need a few things. Got a nice sharp dagger about you, love?"

Chapter XIX

 

Christian watched his father stroke the muzzle of the destrier that had carried him to victory in tournaments before the great King Harry, and felt as small and distasteful as the flies that buzzed around the creature's tail. The Earl had discovered Christian's treatment of Nora, and there was no reasoning with him. Fathers could be most stubborn. Sebastian glanced at Christian, and Christian felt an unaccustomed heat spread over his cheeks.

"This sinful lusting after revenge has gone too far," Sebastian said.

Christian settled back against an adjoining stable door, set his jaw, and twitched a pile of straw with the end of his riding whip. His father knew nothing of his most sinful acts against Nora.

"You should have thought before you acted. Nora is no dissembler."

"I had no time for reflection," Christian said. "I learned the truth moments before the wedding."

"It matters not. That young woman couldn't ally herself with anyone like Bonner or King Philip, and she'd choose death before she would hurt me."

Other books

Cherokee by Giles Tippette
Tor (Women of Earth Book 2) by Jacqueline Rhoades
Suffragette Girl by Margaret Dickinson
The Iron Maiden by Anthony, Piers
A Time of Exile by Katharine Kerr
Seven Nights to Forever by Evangeline Collins
The Replacement Child by Christine Barber
Box 21 by Anders Röslund, Börge Hellström