Sanctuary of Roses (Medieval Herb Garden 2)

That place was outside of the chapel, outside where the sun blazed down and serfs, knights, tradesmen, and pages hurried about their business in the large bailey of Whitehall. Madelyne blinked rapidly as her eyes watered, adjusting to the brightness. She stumbled as Gavin gently pulled her across the trampled ground. He didn't stop, nor did he speak to her-or to anyone else-until they re-entered the keep. He guided her along the halls until they reached a private alcove, where he gestured for her to take a seat.

"Surely you did not mean to seek me out in the chapel, and interrupt my prayers to bring me here?" Madelyne asked, sitting on a wooden bench. A tapestry hung on the wall above her head, depicting King Henry's coat of arms.

"Nay, I didn't know you were in the chapel. Foolish woman. Again that you should be unprotected so soon after your father's attack upon you yesterday. Until I received word from Clem that you had been gone since last eventide, and that your maid had sent D'Orrais in search of you, I didn't realize you'd gone missing. " His face had hardened with annoyance. He appeared prepared to continue, but Madelyne thought it timely to interrupt before any passersby might hear his angry words.

"I do not fear harm when in a chapel, and in the presence of God," she told him, smoothing her skirt, noticing the dirt that stained where she'd knelt in the sacristy. "Aside of that, and more practically, the priest was present during my entire stay, leaving just before Lord Reginald arrived. Surely you do not be

lieve I would be that foolish, Lord Gavin?"

"I'm relieved to learn that you weren't alone," Gavin replied. "But I must reiterate again that it is not safe for you to wander about alone, or to be alone anywhere in this court. Even in a holy place. Your father is here-unbeknownst to the king-and he is a dangerous and desperate man. I cannot continue to protect you if you do not take care. "

Madelyne looked directly into his eyes. "I have seen the king, he has taken from me my freedom and my desire to devote my life to God, and thus you no longer have reason to have concern for my person, Lord Mal Verne. "

"I have been instructed to find you a husband, my lady," Gavin told her in a harsh voice.

Madelyne's gaze flashed to his face at this announcement, but he wasn't looking at her. "You are to choose my husband?" she echoed. "What special talent have you that you should be thus privileged?"

"The king has ordered it of me--that is the talent that I have," he responded, his words softer now, and his gaze returning to her face. "Until then, I will keep you safe-and help you find your way and comfort here at court, now that you, as you have so aptly described, lost your freedom. " He thrust a hand into his thick hair, yanking his fingers viciously through so that it stood wildly about his head, making him look even more formidable. His annoyance seemed to evaporate with this gesture, and his next words gentled. "My lady, for the loss of your freedom and the disruption of your vows, I am truly sorry. 'Twas never my intention to place you in such a position. "

She considered him for a moment.

To her surprise, she was not angry. Nay, she'd come to accept it-and him-after this night of prayer and day of fasting. Nay, she was no longer angry with him. But disappointed, sad, and disconcerted-and frustrated with the futility of her position and the loss of her freedom.

"I accept your apology, Lord Mal Verne. Yet my acceptance is with the knowledge that, though you regret my inconvenience, if you had the choice to make again, you would make the same decision. " He began to speak, and she raised a slim white hand to stop him. "Prithee. 'Tis the man you are, Gavin, and there is naught I or anyone could do to alter that. "

"And what kind of man is that?" he snapped.

"A man of honor, of right, of vengeance. . . and, aye, of blood. . . . That is the kind of man you are. And the man you will ever be. Just as I," she sighed, and looked down at her trembling fingers, ". . . I will ever be a daughter of madness, of despair, and one destined to seek peace and serenity-all the while fighting to keep those selfsame tendencies from my blood. "

"Madelyne. . . . " He reached for her, then his hand dropped. "Aye. You have the right of it, my lady. You may not be schooled in the ways of politics or court, but you are a woman far too wise in the ways of men. "

Chapter Sixteen

"The blood of madness runs in her veins, say they. "

"She wishes only to take her vows and live cloistered for the rest of her life. What man would take to wive such a woman?"

"The lady must be as comely as a horse to desire only solitude!"

The catty tongues had already begun to wag, thought Judith as she sat demurely in the queen's solar. Her relaxed posture and benign expression belied the anger and disgust that seethed within her at the nastiness abounding. She had not expected anything different, of course, knowing that many of the ladies of Eleanor's court were self-centered and vain, but their words served to spark her own indignation.

Before she could decide whether it would be detrimental to Madelyne to speak in her favor so soon, the door to the large, open chamber swung inward, allowing entry to a young page and the source of the raging gossip.

Judith, who had deliberately chosen to arrive prior to Madelyne instead of escorting her there, sat on a hassock near the queen, surrounded by some of Eleanor's favored ladies. Looking about the solar, she saw it as Madelyne must see it, entering this world for the first time: ladies dressed in bright colors, settled in groups about the room. Some sewed on embroidery, others shared a table of cheese and wine, still others sat with a lute. Two women pushed, tapped, and pulled on looms in a corner, weaving new tapestries for the great hall. The chamber was large and filled with sun, for on this warm day, the large rectangular windows were uncovered and allowed a comfortable breeze to flow through.

She flashed a brief smile, catching the eye of her childhood friend, as Madelyne followed the page who led the approach to her majesty. Be strong, Madelyne.

"Lady Madelyne de Belgrume," reported the page.

The women, who were scattered about the chamber, trickled into silence and cast sharp, interested stares at the lady who stood quietly before the queen.

Judith knew it had taken Tricky a concerted effort to dress and coif Madelyne in an appropriate manner-richly garbed in a new gown ordered days earlier, with a few jewels provided by Judith herself, for the woman still preferred the simple attire of a nun. But in her dark red bliaut, fitted along the wrists and waist under the loose crimson overtunic, Madelyne looked every inch the lady and ward of the king that she now was. Her thick black hair was wound and coiled in an intricate pattern of plaits around the crown of her head, with gold netting woven about and through it. Her lips were dark red as well-mayhap from nervous nibbling, Judith thought to herself. But Madelyne's fair, elegant face was serene as she curtseyed smoothly to Eleanor.

Whatever she was feeling was well-hidden behind that peaceful countenance.

"You are well come to my service," said the queen, a beautiful woman in her own right-and, Judith knew, astute enough to recognize that this new addition to her ladies in waiting would provide more than a little disruption. "You come to us from an abbey, I understand. Tell me a bit about your accomplishments there so that I may learn how you can best serve me. " She smoothed her hand over the jewel-encrusted skirts that splayed over the heavy chair on which she sat.

"Aye, your majesty," Madelyne replied in her clear voice. "Whilst there I learned the healing arts, and became the most learned in the herbary. I tended a small garden of medicines as well. The nuns taught me to read and write Latin and Greek, and we studied many of the holy papers. I have learned some mathematics, though I confess 'twas not to my liking and I did not fare as well in those studies, and also some geography. As to embroidery and weaving, I am well-learned there and rather enjoy the rhythm of such tasks. " She curtsied again.