Roselynde (36 page)

Overboard! Simon thought, attempting to leap to his feet. Tangled
in his cloak, he toppled forward, right into her arms.

"Not now!" Alinor spat, pushing him back. Her eyes were
aflame with leaping gold and green points; her cheeks were blazing. "Look
at this letter," she cried, thrusting it into his hands. "Oh,
mea
culpa, mea culpa!"
she mourned. "I am punished for my weakness,
justly punished."

Her lover is dead, Simon thought, with a vicious sense of
satisfaction, or he has betrayed her. He hoped she burned and ached as he had
all these months. Then his eyes fell on the signature and seal, and laughter
roared out of him. He should have known! There was no lover. The only thing
that could move Alinor into such a passion were her estates. In the scribe's
careful hand beside a spluttery X was the name, Sir Andre Fortesque.

"You laugh!" Alinor screamed, beside herself. "You
laugh?"

"No, no," Simon soothed, "not at the letter. I have
not yet read it."

Nor was there anything to laugh about. Sir Andre had received
notice from the Chancellor, William Longchamp, that since the King's warden was
called away upon the Queen's business, he would appoint another warden in
Simon's place.

Worse yet, Longchamp also planned to appoint a new sheriff in
Sussex.

Simon's first reaction was to wonder whether Sir Andre could have
misunderstood what Longchamp meant. Although Simon knew Sir Andre very well now
and was completely convinced of his honor and good sense, it was easier to
believe that Sir Andre had turned into an idiot than to believe what Longchamp
intended to do. Such acts would tear apart the whole fabric of service to the
royal family.

The King or Queen rewarded those who served them with
appointments, such as Simon's appointment as Alinor's warden, from which a
profit could be drawn. If the appointee was forced to remain in residence to
attend to his appointment, he would be effectively removed from the King's
service. Thus, it was understood that any appointee could choose a deputy who
would perform his duties while he was away on the King's business. The absolute
right to appoint a deputy was important because it made the deputy responsible
to the appointee, not to the King, or the Chancellor, or anyone else. Since the
appointee could remove the deputy at will, or punish him for dereliction of
duty, he was assured that his profit from his appointment was secure. Without
that assurance, the original appointment would be worthless.

"Mea culpa,"
Alinor sighed again. "I
should have read the letter while we were ashore. I should—"

"What good would that have done?" Simon asked irritably.
"Do you think the Queen would have given me permission to return?"

"But what are we to do?" Alinor cried. "If
Longchamp gets his hands upon my lands, I will be beggared. My people will
starve. What is more, I doubt I would ever get them back."

"Be still," Simon snapped, "while I read this
again. I cannot think while you howl in my ear."

Alinor drew in an enraged breath and then let it out again. Simon
was perfectly right. Since they were already at sea, losing her temper and
crying
mea culpa
were both profitless. She moved around to where she
could reread the scribe's clear script over Simon's shoulder. Both sighed with
relief when they came to the end of the letter and took in what they had been
too angry to see previously. Sir Andre did not plan to yield tamely. He had
written already to the Bishop of Durham, who would assuredly confirm his
appointment as Simon's deputy if only out of spite of Longchamp, and to William
Marshal, who would just as certainly, support him. To Longchamp he had replied
flatly that he would yield neither the position of deputy sheriff nor the entry
into any of Lady Alinor's keeps without specific instructions from his lord,
Sir Simon, or his lady.

"It is very fortunate that you did not read these before we
embarked," Simon said after a thoughtful silence. "I will take this
to the Queen and have a letter from her to send back to Sir Andre. And, as soon
as we come to the King, I will have his letter, too."

"Yes, and a week later, Longchamp will send to the King again
and have a letter with a later date. Or—why should he send to the King at all?
He has the seal. If he signs the King's name, who will know it is not Richard's
hand?"

"Signs the King's name!" Simon exclaimed. "He would
not dare."

"Would he not? Who will call him to account?"

"Alinor, what are you saying?"

"It is rumored in the Court that he has done it already.
Where is the danger to him? He holds the letters he
says
he has received
from the King. If some chance should bring Lord Richard back or if some
complainant should go to the King, Longchamp need only destroy the forgery and
say the man lies, that the whole was fabricated to damage him in the King's
eyes. What is more, Simon, the King will not care. You know what he thinks of
the English barons. He said it aloud in Court. He will be well pleased if
Longchamp wrests our livelihood from us."

"Not from me or from you," Simon said. "If the King
tells me before my peers that I must yield, I will. It is my duty. But I do not
think the King will look me in the face before a concourse of barons and take
from me what he has only just given me and what you have barely paid for."
His voice stopped abruptly. "I am sorry, my lady, that you have been
troubled," he said flatly. "I will see that you suffer no hurt from
this."

"Simon, Simon," Alinor whispered, catching his hands,
"I will do what you want, anything you want. Do not be so cold to me. I
cannot bear it. I love you."

She had not really realized how much she loved him until they were
again involved in working together to keep her lands safe. She would give
anything to keep that warm rapport, that ready understanding. He is a man, she
thought, and he does have honor. It is only that the honor does not reach as
far as women.

"You love me!" he replied bitterly. "For how long
this time? In the name of God, Alinor, cease from tormenting me. I swear I will
serve you just as honestly, just as faithfully. I will not cheat you whether
you love me or not."

"Torment you? I have tormented you? And what do you mean, how
long this time? I could not love you longer than I know you. I have loved you
almost from the first day. How much longer could I love you?"

"I do not understand you at all," Simon said quietly.
"Are you pretending that you did not think better of this foolish love
while I was in Wales, and pay me my due—and very lavishly you paid with a rich
shire. I will say, Alinor, that you are not niggardly. It was the finest horse
and armor with which you paid Ian for his service, and it was a fair, rich
shire with which you paid me for mine."

"Paid for your service? Simon, you are a fool! I have told
you before that I bought you that office to protect myself and my people. What
has that to do with a horse and armor for a boy? What has that to do with
whether I love you?"

"Has it not to do with that?" Simon said uncertainly.
Then his voice firmed. "No. You will not take me unaware again. I will not
have my heart torn out, then patched up at your pleasure and put back so that
it can be torn out again. When I came to Court, I thought it might be as you
say. You spoke my name in such a voice and tried to hold me— But by the time I
returned and I wished to ask if you loved me still, you would not even look at
me." He rested an elbow on his knee and dropped his head into his hand.
"Let me be. I am too old to play your games. Young hearts crack a little
and then heal. Old hearts are like old bones. When they break, they do not knit
together very easily."

"I am sorry, Simon," Alinor said dully. "I did not
mean to hurt you. I see now I held my value too high when I desired you in
wedlock. I have been well lessoned. I hold myself more lowly now. If it will
besmirch your honor to strive for me as a wife, appoint me a time, and I will
come to your bed."

"What?"

Tears filled Alinor's eyes and slipped silently down her cheeks,
but she did not sob. Her voice was only a little lower. "Will you make me
say it again? You are a hard master,

Simon. I said I would come to your bed at your pleasure. Say me
when. Here? Now?"

"Are you mad?"

"No, I suppose this is not a suitable place. When we come
ashore?"

Because Alinor's eyes were tear-filled and downcast she did not
see the slap that knocked her down. Simon knelt over her, his face purple with
rage.

"I wish I had some cleansing herbs to wash out your
mouth!" he roared. "I wish I knew what could be used to wash out your
mind! Where did you come by such a thought? How dare you say such filth to
me."

Alinor lay silent, her eyes starting wide, completely dumbfounded.
Simon seized her by the shoulders, lifted her, and shook her until she thought her
head would snap from her neck.

"If you ever say such to me again, I will beat you
witless," he bellowed. "Who taught you such a thing?"

"Oh, Simon, stop," Alinor gasped, beginning to struggle
against him. She was laughing and crying at once. "Stop. It was the
Queen."

"What!"

This time the level of Simon's voice was such that Alinor released
his arms, which she had been attempting to hold to reduce the impact of his
shaking, and clapped her hands to her ears. Fortunately his shock also checked
his activity before he broke Alinor's neck.

"If I answer you, will you shake me again?" Alinor asked
cautiously.

Simon's hands dropped from her shoulders. "Do you mean to
tell me the Queen said I wished to take you—That I wished to dishonor the girl
entrusted to my care?"

"No," Alinor admitted, smiling through her tears.
"Mayhap I could use a cleansing of the mind. The Court is no wholesome
place, but I swear, Simon, I will never take its ways to be yours again. And I
will thank God for that on my knees every day of my life."

"Well," he temporized, "I am no saint. I have
sinned my sins, but they are nothing to do with you. Now, how came the Queen
into this affair?"

Alinor rubbed her cheek. The hood of her cloak had cushioned the
blow, but Simon was a strong man and her jaw ached. "Will you grow angry
again if I speak the truth?" she asked.

"Probably," Simon growled, "but I will not hit you
if you do not insult me again." He stared at her expression and his own
changed from anger to revulsion. "Alinor, do not tell me you are of those
who take joy in being beaten!"

Her clear laugh rang out. "No, indeed, and if I deserved it
less, I would have made you sorry for it."

"You would have made me—" Simon began angrily, bristling
as he always did at a threat. Then he looked aside. "Ay, I have no doubt
you have the power to do that. But," he continued, looking back at her
sidelong, "you have not the power to lead me round by the nose. I ask
again, how came you to name the Queen when I asked who gave you such a thought
of me?"

Alinor's mind had been very busy. It would be easy enough to lie
and say she had built the idea from some talk she had with the Queen regarding
one of the court ladies, but it seemed better to tell the truth. In the end it
might be necessary to get herself with child by Simon in order to force a
marriage. If she planted the idea that the Queen had hinted approval of such a
plan, Simon's strict sense of honor might be somewhat assuaged. It was the
Queen, after all, who had made him warden and essentially his loyalty was to
her. Alinor did not for a moment believe that the Queen had had marriage in
mind, but she was not one to boggle at bending the truth in a good cause.

"I was very unhappy when I thought you were angry with me
over the purchase of that office," Alinor began, and then said hotly,
"Well, how should I know you were such an idiot as to think I would part
with a huge sum of money because I did
not
love you? That I should give
you a gift because I
did
love you is reasonable. The other way
is—is—"

"Never mind that. Come to your answer."

"I am coming to it. The Queen— Simon, it is very cold on this
deck," Alinor said, shifting uneasily.

"Alinor!" Simon warned.

She hunkered up and rubbed her behind. "It is hard, too. Let
me sit in your lap."

Belatedly aware that their position was not exactly private, Simon
glanced around uneasily. They were however, more secluded than he thought.
Sometime during the argument the sail had been hoisted, and it effectively
blocked the forward section from the main body of the ship. The crew and the
men-at-arms were huddled as low and as close together as possible for the sake
of warmth. What was more, between the noise the women were making and the noise
the horses were making, it was unlikely that anyone had heard Alinor and him
screaming at each other.

Simon folded his legs to make a comfortable cradle. "Very
well. Sit."

Alinor moved promptly and rested her head on his shoulder.
"That is much better," she sighed.

"Yes, and it is a great pleasure to me also," Simon
replied, "greater, perhaps, than is meet or fitting. Nonetheless, I have
not forgotten my question."