"Nay, Lady Madelyne, we shall not return you to the care of your father. In sooth, 'tis our plan to keep your wardship under our care until a proper protector-a husband-can be found for you. In the mean while, 'twill keep your father from razing the lands of our other barons and causing war among them whilst you are our guest at court. "
"But, your majesty," Madelyne started desperately, ignoring the goblet of wine Gavin offered her, "please have pity-I have made a vow to God that I shall dedicate my life to Him!"
Gavin saw her eyes glisten with unshed tears and trepidation tauten her face, and he nearly reached out to touch her. How terrible it must be to have one's fate seized, he thought, suddenly realizing how accurate she'd been when she told him of the unusual freedoms granted to women in cloistered abbeys.
The knowledge that he'd been party to-nay, that he was responsible for-destroying that freedom she'd obtained crested over him like a dash of cold water.
Henry had turned to Madelyne and now looked at her with steely blue eyes. "My lady," he responded in his firm, monarchical voice, "we do not attempt to naysay God, but, as we have made clear, your dedication to Him has not been formalized, and thus we take that as a sign, from God Himself, if you wish, that 'tis not His desire that you do so. We shall hear no more upon it, Lady Madelyne. " His voice had grown impatient, and he slashed his hand in the air as if to cut off any further protestations on her part.
"As you wish, your majesty. " Madelyne stood humbly, shoulders straight, gaze slightly downcast, hands balled together at her waist.
There was a prolonged silence as the king sipped again from his goblet, and it was broken as he set the cup down deliberately on a small table near his throne. "Lady Madelyne, you are now a ward of the king, and you shall fulfill your duties here in our court by serving her majesty, Queen Eleanor. We shall collect a fine from your father-Burland!" he called over to the scribe who had continued to huddle over a table, scratching at his parchment throughout the entire exchange. The scribe's head popped up and he blinked blearily. "Burland, send you a notice to Fantin de Belgrume that we are assessing a fine as recompense for taking on the wardship of his daughter, Madelyne. "
Gavin caught the glint of humor in the king's eyes and could not resist a small grin. Henry did not miss the slightest chance to add to the royal coffers in any legitimate manner he could fabricate. Fantin would be murderous with rage when he received the notice, and there was naught he could do but pay it.
He sobered as he looked at Madelyne again. She stood rigid as a statue, as cool and smooth and beautiful as a marble figure, silent as the men interacted about her. Again, a pang of guilt thrashed him, but he pushed it away. He was not responsible for the fact that she'd neglected to make her final vows, and that was the only reason she found herself in the current predicament.
"You are dismissed, my lady. We shall expect to see you with the queen's ladies hereforth. "
"Thank you, your majesty. " Madelyne made a graceful curtsey, then turned and walked stiffly toward the door at the other end of the room.
Gavin caught a glimpse of her set profile, but she did not look in his direction as she stepped past.
He looked at Henry, whose own gaze followed Madelyne from the room. "'Twould be a sin for one as beautiful as she to take her holy vows," Henry murmured with a wink at Gavin.
Madelyne heard the king mumble something behind her, but she was so close to tears that she dared not turn to see if he yet spoke
to her. A low rumble followed the king's comment, and she presumed it was Gavin's response. She did not look behind to her to ascertain whether Gavin followed. She would find her own way back to her chamber rather than wait for him.
Holding her head high, she braced her shoulders at the door to the hallway. A page stood at the high oaken portal, opening it as she approached, and stepping aside so that she could find her way into the perpetual crowd that gathered out side of the chamber.
People milled about in the large, open area, and Madelyne hurried through the throngs without noticing any of them. Dimly, she heard the page announce the king's next audience, and then heard the door close firmly behind her.
She still clutched her golden skirt in her hands, but kept her attention focused on the floor made of large gray stones as she hurried blindly away from the people. She paid no mind to where she was going, knowing she would likely become hopelessly lost in the vast warren of corridors and passages. . . but at the moment, all she wished was to get away.
Her inattention caused her to stumble into someone, and she stepped aside, looking up to murmur an apology. When she raised her eyes up the tall form of the man standing in front of her and saw his face, she froze. All sensation fled her body, leaving her light of head and numb.
"Madelyne. How good it is to see you again. " He smiled brilliantly, but she saw the odd gleam in his wild blue eyes.
She could not speak at first, just gasped for air as fear and loathing rushed through her heavy limbs. Where had he come from? "What do you want?" she managed to say with amazing calmness. "Were you following me?"
His smile turned chill. "Is that any way to greet your father?"
Madelyne noted with alarm that they seemed to be in an unusually deserted corridor, and her heart swelled into her throat. She raised her chin, taking care to keep her voice low. "You are my father only by an accident of birth. I wish naught to do with you, my lord, so please step aside. " How could others miss that madness, that obsessive light in his eyes?
Fantin's hand snaked out to close around her arm before she could move past him, tightening into an immediate vise. "I'll not suffer such words from you, Madelyne. " He jerked her once, quickly, but enough that her head snapped back. "Now, you'll come with me, daughter. After ten years, 'tis more than my right to take you under my care. "
Quelling the nausea of fear, Madelyne jammed her heel onto her father's slippered foot and yanked on her arm. Although he grunted in pain, his grip was too tight and he curled his fingers around her arm even tighter, causing her to cry out in pain. "Let me be!" she cried, now hoping that someone would hear their altercation. Surely there couldn't be any place in all of Whitehall that was deserted for long.
"Be still!" he growled, propelling her down the empty hall, away from the faint noise of people. Her gown caught around her legs and she tripped, falling against the rough stone wall even as Fantin wrenched her arm to keep her on her feet. "I'll have none of your tricks!" he snarled as she slammed up into the wall from the force of his yank. Pain burst in her shoulder and along her arm.
"Unhand the girl, de Belgrume. " The steely voice cut through the air like a sword and Madelyne's knees went weak with relief.
"Step aside, Mal Verne!" Fantin whirled toward Gavin, a hand going to his belt and returning with a glittering dagger. "I'll not have you in my way in this. "
As Fantin manipulated them around, Madelyne saw Gavin through the fog of pain that had enveloped her. Even in her half-dazed state, she saw the rage blaring in his eyes.
"I said unhand her. " Gavin's voice was calm, but the violence lacing it sent a frisson of fear down Madelyne's spine.