Once He Loves (Medieval 3)

Radulf’s eyes were far away, but he nodded for Ivo to go on.

“After Lord Richard’s death, the king gave all that was theirs to other barons, and they were declared outcasts. From what I have heard elsewhere, they made their way to York, where you see their life now. Very different from what it once was. Do you remember Sir Anthony Delacourt?”

Radulf blinked, his thoughts returning from wherever they had been. “Aye. He is a prisoner.”

“And once vassal to Lord Richard Kenton. I took Briar to see him, at his request. He has much on his mind—he is dying—and he wishes to cleanse himself of sin before he faces God. Sir Anthony told Briar that Lady Anna cuckolded her father with many men, Lord Fitzmorton and Lord Shelborne among them. There must have been others. Briar was distressed to hear it, at first would not believe it, but I think she will grow to accept the truth. It is the truth, is it not, my lord?”

Radulf’s mouth twisted in what may have been a smile, though not a very pleasant one.

“’Tis the truth, Ivo. This talk of the past disturbs me…brings back memories that are not so pleasant.”

Ivo said nothing, watching the other man as he shivered, and huddled deeper into the fur cloak. He had never seen Radulf in this pensive mood, and never seen him appear so vulnerable. This man was a long way from the tales of greatness, the legends of immortality and brutality. This was the real man, seated here before him, shivering from the cold. Lonely. If only Briar could see her hated foe now…

“Anna was like a dark storm cloud, and she hung over me for many years before I met Lily, but I am free of her now. Not because she is dead,” he added, when Ivo moved as if to ask the question, “but because Lily freed me. I am like the legendary creature held under a curse until the beautiful woman comes to break the spell.” His eyes shone with laughter now, and something hotter.

“Anna pursued me when I was in York two years ago. She would not believe I did not want her. She thought all men desired her. But I had Lily, and I knew if I di

d not stop her, she would destroy my wife. I met her and told her, brutally, that I loathed her. She was furious. She tried to ride me down, but…well, the saints were watching over me. I was hurt only. My men drove her off, and I did not see her again. I was told, later, that her body had been found and she was murdered, but whoever did it was never discovered. Lord Richard accused me before the king, but the king was satisfied with my replies and dismissed his accusations. Kenton would not…could not, believe that. He rebelled, and later took his own life.”

Radulf glanced up at Ivo. “’Tis a grim little tale, is it not, de Vessey?”

“Why could Lord Richard not see what Anna was?” Ivo demanded, impatient with such willful blindness.

Radulf laughed softly. “You did not know her. She found pleasure in twisting men’s hearts inside out with jealousy and doubt, until they would crawl over hot coals for her smallest favor. And then she would swear she loved them and only them, and all the rest was lies. Kenton would want to believe her, need to believe her, for his own sanity.”

“I see.”

“I knew it, but I could not see a way to make Kenton listen. I felt I did not have the right to force such knowledge upon any husband, but my reasons are private, de Vessey, I will not go into them here. However,” he drew a long breath, unknowingly echoing Sir Anthony’s words, “if I had tried harder, mayhap none of the tragedy would have occurred. And I knew Anna; I knew of what she was capable. Aye, I feel in some way responsible for Kenton’s daughters, for their misfortune. If I had known of their plight before now, I would have tried to help, but I was in the south, busy with concerns of my own.”

“I think Briar is still set against you, my lord,” Ivo reminded him quietly. “She is stubborn, but I hope to turn her from that.”

A glimmer of laughter shone in Radulf’s face. “I can believe it, Ivo. You are a man who could turn the devil to sainthood.”

Ivo frowned. “I am no glib tongue, my lord.”

“Nay, ’tis your earnestness, your knightly qualities. You are a man who has a solid core of gold, and it shines through.”

Ivo was nonplussed. He did not see himself like that, far from it, and yet it was flattering for his lord to say so.

Radulf laughed at the expression on his face. “Do not let it go to your head, Ivo. And tell your songstress that I am willing to help her, when she asks. Despite legend, I am no monster.”

“I know that, my lord.”

“Do you love her?”

Ivo didn’t know what to say. There was an attraction between them, a desperate, burning need, and she felt it as much as he. But was that love? Ivo did not know, and nor did he want to. He had sworn never to love a woman again, for her own sake as much as his.

Radulf was amused by his silence. Ivo stiffened, annoyed that he was the object of his lord’s mirth.

“Love,” Radulf spoke musingly, gazing down at the ring on his finger. “It is the cause of so many of our woes, and yet without it…Without Lily, I would as soon be dead.”

His frankness made Ivo uncomfortable. “You miss her,” he said, when it seemed Radulf would say no more.

Radulf looked up, and there was more emotion in his eyes than Ivo had ever seen. But all he said was, “Aye, I miss her.”

Chapter 10

The day looked as bleak as the one before. Ivo glared at the weather as if he thought his displeasure might change it. He was tired and his head ached, and the only sleep he had had was when he sat down to take off his boots and dozed off on a bench by the fire. When he finally woke, stiff and disoriented, it was already dawn. He had grabbed a crust and swallowed a mug of ale, and hurried back to his horse.