Peony Page 7

  Payen saw where the king had cause for concern. The women wore weapons and possessed the power of obvious beauty, but their throats could be sliced easier than a man’s.

  “I know I’ve asked a lot of you over the years, Payen, but I have another task I would assign, given the information you shared last eve.”

  He sidled his horse closer to the king’s stallion. He’d spied for the king, killed for the king, and kept the king’s confidences. They shared a shame that bound them as tight as flesh to bone. “Anything.”

  Louis exhaled. “You might regret that statement.”

  Apprehension knotted his gut. “Tell me.”

  “Infiltrate the queen’s guard. I will assign you to her retinue, your chief duty to ensure she doesn’t make mistakes such as were made in Constantinople. Eleanor has a passionate nature.” He stared straight ahead.

  Payen barely kept his shoulders from dropping. Assigned as a nursemaid to the queen and her guard? Lady Catherine’s roasted chestnut hair and firm mouth came to mind. He pushed the memory away. “I don’t think—”

  Louis whipped his head around, gaze piercing, obviously wanting one thing: peace.

  Payen cleared his throat. “You never shared what actually happened that night.”

  Louis slowed his horse to a snail’s pace, and Payen followed suit. “You know of my wife’s uncle Raymond of Poitiers—well, now Antioch.”

  “Oui. Didn’t he marry the Antioch heiress when she was but ten?” He offered no opinion or judgment. “And it angered the mother who thought she was to be the bride?”

  “Raymond is charming. As charming as Eleanor. He’d gotten the patriarch’s approval and did not waste time worrying over anybody else’s.”

  “He did nothing wrong.” Not a legal matter but one between the man and God.

  “Exactly, though it caused a lot of anger. Like Eleanor, Raymond thinks faster than what is logical or practical. My wife believes I should forgo fighting to gain Edessa back and, instead, give Raymond leave to govern all four Holy States, which was the reason we left Constantinople so abruptly.”

  Payen realized the damaging political implications of such a move. He understood the king thought to protect his wife by refusing to discuss her motives. “What does this have to do with Emperor Manuel?”

  “She did not realize the deep hatred Emperor Manuel feels for Raymond. Quite possibly Raymond killed John Comnenus, Manuel’s father. Or had him killed with a poisoned arrow. At Raymond’s urging, she planned to approach the emperor and enlist his aid to make Raymond more powerful.”

  “With all four states in his rule, he could crush the Byzantine Empire. Surely the queen saw the potential for danger in going to Manuel?”

  Louis clenched his jaw. “Like Raymond, Eleanor sees what she wants and goes after it.”

  The exact opposite of Louis. Or himself. They’d watched the damage their brothers had done with reckless behavior.

  “And so she met with Manuel in secret?”

  “Non.” He sounded faintly bitter. “Only because her loyal guard, Lady Isabella de Lacey, at the last moment made her realize what could happen if she were caught. Instead, the lady was apprehended. And almost killed.”

  Payen’s back stiffened, and the black stallion tossed his mane. “That sounds—”

  “Treasonous? Irresponsible?” Louis paused. “Eleanor swears differently, claiming she only wants to ensure France’s power in Outremer.”

  “So that is why you exiled Lady Isabella to England.”

  Louis waved his hand. “With her lover. She has a large amount of property there. She will be better off away from the queen and her guard.”

  Payen agreed wholeheartedly but kept quiet. He couldn’t stop thinking of Lady Catherine. What was she prepared to do for the queen? Steal? That put her actions in a different light. What wouldn’t he do for his king?

  “Keep a very close eye on Lady Catherine. We will say nothing of this to the queen, oui? She must believe you add knights to her caravan for her safety.”

  “As you wish.”

  Louis sighed. “I am grateful for your understanding, my friend. Thierry and Odo”—he gestured toward his advisors—“would rather I send Eleanor back to France. But I cannot. I love her.”

  Ah. Payen, at twenty-six, had never been in love. He’d promised his father he would consider settling down once he returned from the holy war. He’d find a simple, honest woman. They’d have well-behaved children, educated to master their property and give thanks to the king and God.

  It might be dull, but it would be honorable. His father was proud of his position in the king’s entourage, though nothing could remove the stain his brother, Henri, had left a dozen years ago.

  Henri and Philip, Louis’s older brother, had bullied their way through all of France, most of Aquitaine, and parts of England, leaving duty behind. If the woman had a pretty face, she was fair game. Music. Dancing and drinking. Whoring.

  Henri de Montfer was with the heir to the throne of France the day he died. Outside the Parisian market, he challenged Philip to a race. When a loose pig startled his horse, Philip hit the ground in a fall that left him nothing but a lifeless heap of broken limbs. Rather than stay and atone for his sins, Henri ran to Scotland with a beautiful maiden who promised him sanctuary.

  Payen had been making up for his brother’s reckless ways ever since.

  Catherine stretched her aching muscles. Her arms felt as loose as yarn after hours of morning archery practice. Her thighs quivered like a bowl of cold porridge from too many sword lunges. They neared the inn, coming from the practice yard behind the stables. She’d looked inside, and de Montfer hadn’t returned. She’d wager he’d gone to the king, despite the danger of traveling at night.

  “Sarah, are you certain you won’t lie down and rest? The queen will understand if you miss a meal.”

  Sarah’s fair skin had lost its golden glow. Her hair seemed dry and brittle. Still she had been pushing herself to complete the training exercises. “I eat for me and the babe.” She placed a hand over her flat belly.

  “You puke for you and the babe, which can’t be healthy,” Mamie said. “Resting with Jonathon feeding you candied fruit sounds much more appealing than eating in the noisy dining hall.”

  Laughing, Catherine looked to Sarah, who gritted her teeth against nausea or exhaustion—either made the normally sweet lady bitter. “Mamie, you have never had a child, so what do you know of the matter?”

  Mamie sucked in a breath. “How right you are. Lucky me, non?”

  Catherine reached out for Mamie’s shoulder, but Mamie danced ahead, her eyes too bright, her smile forced.

  “I am sorry.” Sarah’s voice quivered.

  “For what?” Mamie shrugged, not meeting Sarah’s eyes. “Not being able to keep more than a morsel in my belly would make me irritable too. I agree with Catherine, though. You should rest.”

  “The queen chose me to be her guard. I’ve already let her down by becoming enceinte. I will not give her another reason to release me from my duties.”

  Guilt. Catherine, quite familiar with that motivation, changed the subject. “I am surprised Fay missed our morning exercise.”

  “She’s with that German soldier, the injured one?” Mamie sniffed. “She seems enchanted with him.”

  “I will warn her to take care. A few kisses lead to more, and then?” Sarah rubbed her stomach. “Ruin.”

  “There is nothing wrong with our Fay flirting a little,” Mamie said. “I would have picked someone healthier, perhaps, but there is no explaining the pull of amour.”

  “Love?” Sarah lifted her hands as if praying for an answer. When none came, she dropped her arms to her side. “Love is a lie.”

  “Sarah,” Catherine said, “our queen has created a court of love, poetry, and mutual respect between men and women.”

  “They respect you until they get what they want. Then they disappear and leave the suffering to the women. What can Jonathon do to hel
p? Nothing. He wants to get married.”

  “Isn’t that the right thing to do?” Mamie said.

  “I don’t want to join my life with another’s just because we are supposed to. It goes against all the rules, I know. And I will marry him because I love him. But does he love me?” Tears slipped from Sarah’s eyes. “I wish I knew.”

  Catherine pulled Sarah into a tight hug.

  Mamie joined them, putting her arms over their shoulders. “Jonathon loves you,” she said softly. “I know men, and I see how his eyes follow you when you enter the room.”

  And how Sarah’s temper crushes him, Catherine thought. “Ask him to be patient. He will understand.”

  Sarah nodded, breaking free of the circle. “Let’s go inside before we catch a chill. Soup first, then a nap. Everybody gets to be happy.” She smiled at Catherine, then Mamie. “Thank you.”

  They went inside.

  “Over there, Fay and Hector are sitting with Queen Eleanor and Emperor Conrad.” Mamie led the way. “There is room for us too.”

  They handed their cloaks to a servant, who hung them on hooks by the door.

  Catherine took a seat next to Fay, noticing the pretty pink blush on her cheeks and the furtive glances she gave Hector. Far from the injured soldier of before, Hector now seemed in the prime of health with his ruddy cheeks, inquisitive brown eyes. She watched as the man attempted to divide his attention between his liege and Fay. “Hector looks much recovered,” Catherine observed wryly under her breath.

  “Amazing what a beautiful woman can do.” Mamie chuckled. She sat next to Catherine. Eleanor and Conrad sat at the other side of the table, embroiled in serious conversation. Servants brought trays of steaming food and pitchers of wine or mead.

  “I’m starving,” Catherine said. The very instant the words left her mouth, she remembered the boy from the market. The morning had been filled with training, but as soon as she finished her meal, she would somehow find a way to take care of the pinched-faced beggar. With a hint of annoyance, she remembered de Montfer offering his aid. God willing, he would stay at his end of the caravan and leave her alone.

  The door opened, letting in a cold gust.

  “King Louis!” Fay said, elbowing Catherine.

  Catherine pushed her goblet aside, recognizing the figure in the door with a surge of adrenaline that warned her to flee or fight. She straightened her spine for battle.

  “Lord de Montfer.”

  Chapter Five

  “Where?” Mamie turned to see. “Now that is a well-made man.”

  Catherine knew she spoke of de Montfer. “Odo and Thierry are right behind him and King Louis.” She lowered her gaze as if disinterested in the royal arrival, though very aware. Her sensitivity to the charged currents in the air hurt her skin like a heat rash.

  Since the king had not been officially announced, none had to bow as he walked toward Eleanor, though most nobles dipped their heads with respect. King Louis’s slight frame gave him the appearance of a younger man. His strength of character belied his small stature.

  Next to Louis, de Montfer’s height was pronounced. His dark blue cloak fell across his broad shoulders and down to his ankles. It was open at the front, and his knee-length tunic showed with each step as he strode beside the king.

  Queen Eleanor stood as Louis neared, her pleasure clear in her dimpled smile. Lovely in a gown of light blue, she held out her hands, which he clasped.

  Odo and Thierry wore matching expressions, hinting disapproval at the display of affection.

  Catherine thought of Ragenard, of how fleeting love could be, and offered a silent prayer for the royal couple.

  Payen de Montfer approached her and Mamie’s end of the table. Catherine blinked and there he stood, all of that male lordship directly in front of her. For the first time she noticed his dark hair held hints of deep red. He wore it loose instead of tied back, giving him an approachable air that was dangerous. And misleading. Catherine swallowed.

  He shot her a look impossible to interpret.

  “Lord de Montfer, would you care for a seat?” Mamie smiled encouragingly, scooting over to make room on the bench.

  Catherine fought the urge to kick de Montfer in the shin. Something about him made her feel as if she had hives. Tucked beneath her gown, Ragenard’s necklace warmed against her skin.

  “Merci. I see the king has settled next to Queen Eleanor and Emperor Conrad.”

  Catherine gave a disinterested nod. “I hadn’t thought to see you again so soon.” She’d been hoping never. How was she supposed to forget the way he made her feel if he wouldn’t stay gone? He belonged with the king at the rear guard. She’d hardly noticed him during the journey until Constantinople. She squirmed. Perhaps he hadn’t gone completely unnoticed. After all, Catherine had been married to a lusty man who had taught her the joys of love, and she admitted with shame, sometimes her body craved what it remembered.

  Payen brought on the memories.

  He sat next to Mamie, smelling of crisp autumn air. She couldn’t question him here. She’d shared Lady Abigail’s escape with Eleanor and the guards but kept Payen de Montfer’s disappearance to herself. She was waiting till she found out more.

  “A pleasant surprise, I hope.” He gave her a charming smile she didn’t believe. “Have you taken care of that matter in the market? I’d hoped to accompany you.”

  Mamie’s brow lifted. “Hmm. What matter, Catherine?”

  She glared at de Montfer. “I have no need of your assistance.” She turned to Mamie. “I plan to find a place in the church for the boy in the market.”

  “What if he doesn’t want to go?” Mamie said.

  “I promise to ask questions. I just . . . he needs me.” She pressed her hand to her heart. “I know it.”

  “I’ve learned to trust your feelings.” Mamie accepted mead from a servant and sipped. “Just take care that the child doesn’t have a family willing to fleece you for your cloak and dagger.”

  “Feelings? You should be packing to ready for Pergamum, not chasing a thief through the market.” Payen leaned close. “King Louis will make an announcement soon. We leave first thing in the morning.”

  Catherine’s throat tightened. She couldn’t explain her feelings, and obviously de Montfer didn’t believe her anyway. “I have a few things to buy for the journey.”

  Mamie pushed the jar of berry preserves toward Payen, along with a fresh loaf of bread. “There is plenty to eat. Better to start a difficult journey with a full belly, oui?”

  “We have ample supplies to see us to Pergamum, though they might not be the highest quality. Nobody will starve.” Payen sliced off a piece of bread and meticulously spooned fruit to the center before smoothing it to the edges. Once done, he set the spoon down, eyed his creation, and took a bite. “I suggest you pack only what you need.”

  Bossy too. Catherine watched him eat. Did he prepare all meals with such precision or just bread and jam? She studied him as he chewed then swallowed. He’d shaved his chin, leaving his tanned skin smooth. Inviting. She cleared her throat, her body flushed, her heart beating too fast.

  “And what of weaponry?” She switched the subject from food, determined to think like a guard. Tough. Not prone to spells of desire for a man who could have her executed if he knew the truth. “Arrows, knives?”

  He wiped his fingers on the edge of a cloth. “You have no need to worry. As a matter of fact, my men and I will be joining your queen’s retinue. I, too, will be a queen’s guard.” His jaw tightened.

  “What?” Catherine sent a look of concern toward Mamie.

  “You have the legs for a skirt, de Montfer,” Mamie said.

  Payen ignored the jest. “I’ve lost men on this journey, as has the queen. It makes sense to combine my knights with hers. The coastal road could be dangerous, and we know what happened to Conrad.”

  “Non, what makes sense is that you stay with the king, your friend and liege.” Catherine’s scalp tingled. She knew, without p
roof, that he was not telling the entire truth.

  “King Louis assures me that Queen Eleanor will be grateful to accept my knights.” He took another measured bite of bread and chewed, his gaze holding hers.

  “How many men do you have with you?”

  Mamie leaned on her elbow and waited for Payen’s answer.

  “Forty.”

  “Hmm.” Mamie smiled. “I look forward to meeting them all.”

  Still holding Catherine’s gaze, de Montfer frowned. “I hope we will be friends.”

  Catherine fanned her face. “We are not friends.” Dear heaven, had her voice squeaked? And of course, he would notice. His eyes narrowed the tiniest bit. Thankfully, her friend’s did too.

  “Catherine, my sweet, you look flushed.” Mamie stood, leaving the bench next to Payen and walking over to Catherine, holding out her hand. “Let me take you outside for a breath of fresh air. Perhaps the preserves didn’t agree with you?”

  With gritted teeth, Catherine accepted Mamie’s help. Something didn’t agree with her, oui, but it wasn’t the fruit. She was afraid to speak until they got outside.

  The brisk November air immediately calmed her reaction to de Montfer. “Merci. Was my dislike for him that obvious?”

  “Dislike? I’ve never seen you lose your composure. Did he fondle your knee beneath the table?”

  “Non.” Catherine laughed. “I would have stabbed his hand with my dagger. I don’t have a good feeling about him joining the queen’s caravan.”

  “I noticed. It is the first time I’ve ever seen you flustered around a man. How long has it been since your husband died?”

  Catherine blew out a breath, the air forming a cloud. “Over a year.”

  “I know you don’t like to talk about it.”

  Hugging her middle, she began with what she’d already shared. “Ragenard was killed in an illegal joust.”

  “Oui, and now you hide among the queen’s private guard because you are worried someone will accuse you of doing the deed?” She stifled a smile.

  Catherine half-smiled. Deciding to trust her friend with a bit of the truth, she whispered, “I ran away from home to marry Ragenard. I was supposed to marry someone else.” The secret burned at her heart like a canker.