Lady Gallant (42 page)

"I'm good at crossbiting," Sybille said.

Nora lifted her skirt as they mounted the stairs to her chambers. "Oh. Um… how—how clever of you."

"You get more money from crossbiting than plan whoring," Sybille went on. "I remember one time last year, this new married son of a wool merchant couldn't even wait to get his clothes off before he started. It's better if they're caught naked, you know. Anyway, he was grinding away when Ham—that's my roysterer—when Ham comes charging in. That wool merchant bleated like one of his own sheep and paid us enough to last till spring."

"How fortunate," Nora said. Desperate to stanch the flow of lurid reminiscences, she reminded Sybille that she'd promised to bathe.

A long groan was the response.

"I'll give you one of my dresses if you bathe." Sybille chewed her lip while she considered. "The blue one with the silver embroidery?"

"If you like."

"It's a bargain. Only I hope I don't catch an ague from bathing and die before I can wear the dress for Ham."

It wasn't long before Nora was arranging the skirt of her blue gown over the farthingale attached to Sybille's hips. The woman kept twisting out of her grasp in an effort to see herself in the long mirror in Nora's chamber.

"Hold still," Nora said.

"But I want to see."

Nora chuckled and sat back on her heels while Sybille whirled about.

"Bloody heaven and hell," Sybille said. "It fits, all except the top. It's squeezing my tits something terrible."

Nora eyed the woman's breasts. The bodice pressed them up until they bulged over the low, square neckline, which bit into Sybille's skin.

"We'll have to let the seams out. I can do that."

"Oh, look." Sybille pointed in the mirror. "I look like you."

Nora rose to stand beside the woman, and indeed, they were of similar height and build—discounting the chest, of course.

"Wait," Nora said.

She grabbed the matching French hood from the bed and fitted it onto Sybille. The headdress covered the top of her head while the veil concealed her hair. Nora stood next to Sybille again. Now each wore a gown and hood, and they struck the same pose.

"I could be a lady," Sybille said in a breathy voice. "I could be as pretty as you."

"I'm not pretty."

"Who says?"

Nora looked away from Sybille's skeptical glance. "Lots of people. My husband."

"Kit?" Sybille snorted. "He must have been furious. He's usually much better at concocting insults that will shrivel your skin. Nah, he's hot for you, or it wouldn't be all over the stews that the snow prince has melted."

"I don't think so."

Sybille suddenly looked toward the window.

"What's all that clatter?"

Nora opened the window and peered down into the courtyard. Across the lowered drawbridge trotted several men in Montfort livery. She didn't wait to see who they escorted, but quickly stepped back.

"Dear Lord, my husband."

"Where?" Sybille shoved her face out the window and opened her mouth, but Nora clamped a hand over her lips.

"Shhh! You'll warn him."

Sybille came back inside and shoved Nora's hand away.

"So?"

"God's mercy, Sybille. You've got to help me get away."

"Kit won't like it."

"If you help me, I'll give you two more dresses."

"It's a bargain. You slip out the kitchen yard, and I'll meet Kit. If I stay at the top of the stairs when he comes in, I'll be in the shadows and he won't see me clearly."

Nora was already gathering a bundle of her clothing and some coins she'd found in Christian's chamber. "Make him chase you all over the house. Keep him busy for as long as you can. The dresses are in my old room."

"Don't worry, love. Quicker than a hind, I am."

Nora ran out of the chamber, calling behind her, "Thank you, Sybille. I won't forget."

As she hurried downstairs, Nora heard shouts in the courtyard. Darting through a door that would take her to the rear of the house, she paused on the other side to look back into the hall. The double doors at the other end crashed open, and she heard her husband bellow her name. Nora gave a peep of alarm and bolted. Racing past surprised Cook, Nora fled the manor through a sally port set in the rear wall. She crossed the one-man bridge over the moat and flew down the slope toward the forest that marched close on the back of Falaise.

She had to find Arthur and put as much distance as she could between them and Lord Montfort. The river wasn't far, and she soon burst into a clearing at its banks.

She stopped to catch her breath. "Arthur!" She had to call three more times before she got an answer.

"Over here, my lady."

Nora swerved to the right, plunged into a wall of shrubs, and stumbled on a fallen slab of hewn stone.

"Up here, lady."

Arthur's shining curls appeared above a chunk of stone high in the old tower. Not much more than a pile of rubble, the Norman structure was more ivy and crumbling mortar than anything else.

"Come quickly," Nora said. "Lord Montfort has returned, and we must flee."

As she finished speaking, someone roared her name. Nora turned toward Falaise and heard the sounds of someone thrashing about in the forest. Arthur was climbing down.

"No," Nora said. She threw her bundle over her shoulder and scrambled up the spray of stones at the foot of the tower. Reaching Arthur, she led him back to the top where they crouched, noses level with the highest stone. From this vantage, Nora could see Christian as he burst into the clearing. He stopped, head tilted to one side, and listened. Beside her, Arthur fumbled among the rubble at his feet until she stilled him with one hand.

Christian paced the clearing, looking like a tall, catlike animal who'd caught a scent. He slowed as he approached the tower, then knelt to touch the bent branches of a shrub. At once he was up and racing lightly toward them.

"Damnation," Nora said, her fear growing with each graceful stride he took.

Arthur shoved a rock in her hand, and she looked down at him. The boy grinned at her, hefting a boulder in two hands. Nora peeked down at her husband. He had stopped a few yards from the tower and was looking up, scoring the ruin with his gaze.

"You might as well come down, chuck," he called. "I know you're there."

Nora hunched back down, shivering at the sound of the caress in his voice. He was in that strange mood again. He wanted to play with her. Her hand clamped around her rock and she bit her lip. He wasn't going to toy with her again, and she would kill him before she allowed him to hurt Arthur.

"Come, Nora, you're being irksome, and I've things to tell you."

As he spoke, Christian's voice grew louder, and Nora realized he was going to climb up after her.

"Now, Arthur."

She rose, bent over the top of the tower, and hurled the rock. Arthur did the same. Hers bounced off the side of the tower and sailed past Christian's ear. Arthur's missile hit the ground and ricocheted off Christian's boot.

"God's blood!"

Christian hopped backward holding his foot while Arthur laughed. Nora wasted no time in gloating. She rummaged about for more ammunition, straightening just as Christian stalked up to the tower again.

"Don't you dare throw that," he said. He put his hands on his hips and fixed her with a look of combined ire and dominance.

She cocked her arm and hurled the rock at his face. He dove to the side, but Arthur was ready with another stone, which hit him squarely in the back.

"Hell's demons!" Christian rolled to the base of the tower under a barrage and slithered up the pile, dodging bits of mortar and rock as he came.

"Run, Arthur!" Nora shouted when she saw her husband's head clear the last stone between him and them. "Run, and I'll catch up!"

Arthur hesitated, but she shoved him to the side and hurled a stone at Christian with both hands. He ducked, cursing, and Arthur slipped past him as he dove at Nora. Nora had another rock in her hands and was raising it over her head when Christian's shoulder hit her stomach. She flew backward under his weight, dropping the stone. They fell on the top ledge of the tower, with their upper bodies hanging over the edge.

Then Nora remembered her lessons with Sybille. Squirming for the right position, she jerked her knee up between Christian's legs. All she got for her trouble was a grunt, for her skirts padded the blow.

"You little wolf cub, stop that."

Christian wrapped his arms around her torso and rolled to haul her on top of his body. Frantic to escape and reach Arthur, she bit his neck. Her husband yelped and thrust her away. She regained her balance and launched herself down the spray of stones after her page. In moments a hand caught her arm and she was yanked back against Christian's chest. As she sailed toward him Nora doubled her fist and smashed it into his jaw. Christian yelped with pain and captured her fist.

"God's teeth, woman, you've transformed into a harpy."

She bent over his arm, ready to sink her teeth into the back of his hand.

"Oh, no, you don't." Christian grabbed her wrists and held her at arm's length. "Will you listen to me?"

"If you hurt Arthur, I'll kill you."

"Hurt Arthur?" Christian shook his head, then pursed his lips and whistled. Hext appeared with a struggling Arthur slung over his hip.

"Devil!" Arthur screamed. "Fiend! Let me go!"

Nora kicked at Christian's shins. "Let him go."

Christian dodged her foot and shook his head. "Stop fighting me. I won't hurt him, I promise."

Nora's foot was in midair, ready for another kick. She set it back on the ground and warily watched her husband while she caught her breath. Hair in a wild tangle about her face, she stood with her wrists imprisoned and drops of perspiration gathering on her upper lip. Christian was staring at her in an odd, startled way that puzzled her. Without looking away from her, he spoke to Hext.

"Take the boy back to the house and see that he's tended. Lock him in a room or we'll end up chasing him across the county."

Nora watched Hext disappear with Arthur still slung over his hip. When he was gone, she had no excuse to ignore her own fear, and her knees began to turn to melted cheese. She licked her dry lips and met her husband's gaze. He was staring at her still, as he had since she'd stopped fighting. Curiosity, confusion, hot arousal, and other unidentifiable emotions jumbled together in his eyes, exposing an agitation she'd rarely seen him reveal. She tried to shrink away from him, but he only tightened his hold on her wrists.

"I'm not going to hurt you either, Nora. Even though you've just tried to stone me to death. God's teeth, you've turned into a warrior."

She tugged at her wrists in vain. "How do I know you're not lying?"

"Beshrew you, woman, stop wriggling."

Nora twisted her arms and pulled at the same time. Christian muttered an obscenity and hauled her to his body so that her arms were trapped between them. Immediately she drew back her foot.

"If you kick me again, I'll throw you in the river."

Lowering her foot, she glared up into her husband's face. She was startled when he sighed with relief and smiled at her. She didn't return his smile.

"How do I know you aren't lying?" she asked.

His smile vanished, and he closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, Nora beheld something she'd never seen in Christian. Fear.

"I didn't want to begin it like this," he said, "but you give me no choice. I—Paderborn is a fool, you know."

"Who?"

"How was I to know?"

"Know what?"

"And you wouldn't tell me, and he was in France."

"Who was in France?" Nora shoved at Christian, who appeared to be suffering from all the evil humors at once.

"I should have listened to you."

"My lord, you've made no sense at all, and I still don't believe you mean no harm."

"But I don't," Christian said. He searched Nora's face be-fore looking down at the ground. A flush stole over his cheeks and he lowered his voice. "I spoke with William Cecil."

It took Nora a full minute to realize what he meant. "Oh." She drew in a deep breath and let it out. "You can release me."

He loosened his grip and stepped away, only to fall to his knees at her feet. She gaped at him when he snatched her hand and kissed it. Turning it over, he kissed her palm, but she shook off his grip and put both hands behind her back.

"I was wrong," he said. He touched the hem of her skirt. "And I was cruel. A monster. Arthur is right to name me one, and I beg you to forgive me."

Nora looked down at Christian de Rivers, looked at him on his knees begging for her charity as she'd once dreamed of him doing.

"It doesn't matter," she said.

He leaned toward her. "Of course it matters," he whispered violently. "I can never make up for what I've done. It matters." #

"No," she said as if she were speaking to a lackwit. "You see, it would matter if I cared, but I don't care anymore. I don't care if you believe me. I don't care if you love me. I don't care if I see you. I just don't care. So you see, it's not important to me that you know you were wrong and that you're contrite."

He rose, his hand strangling the hilt of his dagger. "Please, Nora, you must give me a chance to mend what I've broken."

Saying nothing, Nora watched as he reached out to her with one hand. It was a strong, clean hand, its skin smooth and brown and warm, and once she would have given all she possessed for it to stretch out to her so beseechingly. Now she didn't care.

"I have changed," she said.

"I'm beginning to see." He let his hand drop and tilted his head, his manner grave. "Mayhap we should begin anew, write a new Genesis."

She shook her head. "I've had time to think. I want to go back to my country house and live there with Arthur and my old servants."

"No."

"I don't want to be your wife."

She turned toward Falaise, but he blocked her way in two strides.

"No power on earth can undo our marriage," he said.

"I'm not a fool. Not all husbands and wives live together. You may live as you please, and so will I."