I had the rose from your letter sewn into my leather hacketon. Do but remember me.
Your knight,
Ranulf
He wrote that the ribbon had been stolen when he knew Amicia had it. The woman could not have gone to the camp and not have been seen by him. Nor was it possible for Amicia to have sent her own messages or have access to Ranulf’s seal. Lyonene remembered Gressy’s stories of Ranulf’s first wife. It was said the woman attempted to kill herself, so unhappy she was. What treachery could make a woman try to commit a mortal sin?
She had been married to him only six months and already he was a master of lies and deceits. What heights could he climb to in three years? A man does not earn the title of Spawn of the Devil for naught.
She took quill and ink and paper into the solar. She would not let him know she knew of his dishonorable behavior. He should have been honest with her and told her he no longer desired her, rather than sending letters of kindness and practicing deeds of deception.
Amicia stood by a window, her letter in her hand. “You write him?”
Lyonene nodded.
“I am to go with the messenger when he returns. Mayhaps I may deliver it myself. I must prepare a few things.” She swept from the room.
Her letter lay open on a chair seat and Lyonene could not refrain from walking to it. She did not touch it—there was no need. The last line was quite clear.
I love you, my Amicia.
Ranulf
When Amicia returned, Lyonene was seated again at the little table, but the letter she had begun was crumbled before her. She walked down the stairs to the courtyard, where the messenger waited. Amicia walked ahead to the outer bailey, presumably to obtain a horse for her journey.
“You have a message for me to return?”
“Nay, I do not. Do but tell my husband his child is well and his castle is well cared for.”
The boy looked doubtful, but turned and led his horse toward the gate where Amicia had gone.
The woman was gone only one night, and when she returned, she proudly showed Lyonene a beautiful little jar of rock crystal and gold that contained a small, precious amount o
f perfume. The Frankish woman reeked of the scent.
“It is an expensive gift and, he says, well deserved. I vow I have never had such a night as this last. I do not wonder you are breeding already with such a husband.”
“Out! I will have no more! You spend your nights as the lowest of women, yet you brag and display your ill-gotten goods. I will bear no more of your insults. William! Show this woman new quarters. She may stay inside the castle walls, but not in the inner bailey. Throw her to the garrison knights for all I care!”
Even through her blaze of anger, she thought she saw a faint smile on the steward’s mouth.
Amicia smiled lazily, knowingly. “You will regret this. It will be you who will leave this fine house and I who gives the orders.” She jerked away from William’s arm and went down the stairs before him. At the door she stopped, not turning, and laughed, an ugly laugh that filled the hall, making the hearers’ flesh crawl.
Almost instantly there was a lightness in the house, now that the woman was gone. Familiar noises returned and servants walked more quickly. Lyonene even thought she saw Hodder smile. She had Loriage saddled and fled to the private glade, where she could be alone.
Dismissing Amicia had not dismissed her troubles. She could still see the letter that told of Ranulf’s love, a thing she had come to want greatly, but the words had been said to another. Why did he marry her? It was not for gold, he had proven not for love and he had not shared her bed until recently; what then was his reason?
A slight noise broke through her thoughts, a remembered sound of metal against metal. She turned over and saw that he stood above her, his face grim.
Her heart began to pound wildly. Ranulf was before her, the man she loved so intensely—yet one who gave his love to a woman he had known only a short while, and not to her. “Your … siege is finished?” The whispered words near choked her.
He sat down beside her, heavily. “Why did you not return my letter?” His voice sounded almost dead.
“You have journeyed far to ask me this one question? Could you not have sent another messenger?”
“Do not give me more questions, but answer me.”
She looked down at her hands. “I did not think you cared for my answer. I am well, as you see, and am carrying your child. William runs your castle quite well.”