The Black Lyon (Montgomery/Taggert 1)

“Nay! I do not believe you! It is another man’s bastard—if indeed you do hold a child in that fleshless belly—and you try to convince me it is my husband’s.”

“I have given you warning and I have shown you proof of your husband’s love for me. Shall I show you the letters again, for I know you have seen them? Shall I describe the intimate moment of passion when he gave me the ribbon with the lions that you took from me? Nay, I see you know my words to be true.”

Lyonene tried to still her racing heart, calm her emotions and think rationally. When she spoke, it was quietly and deliberately. “Many women must look aside when their husband’s bastards are born. I am no less strong than they.”

“Ah, a most sensible way, but I think you forget King Edward.”

“And what has the king to do with such an ugly matter as you have placed before me?”

“Much, I fear.” Amicia watched Lyonene, studying her reactions to the words. “As has been mentioned, you are but a baron’s daughter, while I am heir to the Duke of Vernet’s properties and fortune. King Edward would like much to have England associated with such lands. Has he not expressed his doubts as to his earl marrying so low-born a woman?”

Lyonene could not answer, but her mind filled with memories.

“Do you know the story of Gilbert de Clare, the Earl of Gloucester? He has obtained his divortium and will soon marry the Princess Joanna. What think you King Edward will say when he finds the Duke of Vernet’s daughter carries the child of the Earl of Malvoisin? Think you he will laugh and pat Lord Ranulf’s shoulder? Or will he think of the war such a great insult to France might bring?”

Lyonene could not reply.

“What will you do then?” the high voice continued. “Will you sit calmly by as the Pope dissolves your marriage? And what of your child? Your child whom you thought to inherit will be cast aside and mine will become the Earl of Malvoisin. Will you remain here and share Lord Ranulf’s bed as his mistress? He seems to enjoy you well. I am sure he will continue to do so, even when you are not tied to one another with a marriage document. Mayhaps you will return to your parents. Will they not be proud of their daughter? Married once to the renowned Black Lion, his son in tow. You will be a prize, and your father will have little difficulty in finding you another husband. What say you to sharing a bed with another man? Mayhaps he will not be so strong as Lord Ranulf or so handsome, but he will have the hammers and iron to forge new babes.”

“Cease!” Lyonene put her hands over her ears. “Leave me! I can bear your presence no longer.”

“It is not my presence that troubles you, but the truth you hear in my words. I will go, but you are far from rid of me.”

Alone again, Lyonene sat, stunned, unable to make a coherent thought. Kate came and went, her questions unheard, unanswered. The woman’s words did indeed have the ring of truth. She seemed to remember every word spoken at court, every hint at her unsuitable marriage to an earl.

What of Ranulf? He seemed to sneer at convention, but he loved his king, and his honor was a matter of great importance to him. What if he were pressured by his king? She knew the answer, knew Ranulf could not disobey his king. Had he not once mentioned Simon de Montfort with hate, saying how the man had risen against his king, tried to overthrow King Edward’s father? Nay, Ranulf was an honorable man and would do what his conscience dictated.

She tried to sew again, but could not. What of Amicia’s crude statement? The idea of another man touching her brought a shudder of revulsion. Yet could she stay and become his mistress, see Amicia in his bed?

Nay! she thought, she could not.

Food was brought to her but she noticed neither it nor the hands that served it. She paced the floor, then stopped to stare through the glass of a window. The courtyard lay below and the retainers of the inner bailey walked about normally, as if this were not a day when Lyonene’s world had shattered.

Ranulf seemed to come to her from every corner, his face, his voice, his words. She had no faith in him! The thought brought new hope to her breast. Perhaps Amicia did lie. The letters could have been forged, the ribbon stolen. She had not seen them together, had no proof of her own that Amicia’s child had been fathered by Ranulf. If the child were not his, then King Edward would not force Ranulf to dissolve his marriage.

She must go to him, yes, she must see for herself if there were any truth to Amicia’s words. A glance at the window showed it to be late, too late to begin a journey.

Her mind worked quickly and she planned her journey with care. Once before she had used a disguise and she would do so again, only this time she must travel as a man, a boy at least. Clothes, she thought. She would need clothes; not rich ones to encourage robbers, but those of an apprentice, perhaps, on an errand for his master. She would need an excuse to be traveling alone. Once the thought of danger crossed her mind, but she shook it away. Her future and that of her child were paramount.

She rummaged through a chest of Ranulf’s and tried on some of his clothes, but they were hopelessly too large and the fabrics too rich for a poor boy.

“Kate, come here,” she called. She knew the girl looked with suspicion at her mistress’s wild-eyed look. “Kate, you have helped me before and now I need your help again. I must go to my Lord Ranulf, but I must do so in secret. No one but the two of us must know.”

“You cannot travel to his lordship without guards.”

“Nay, I must. I have to learn something. If I am right, then I will show myself and there will be no need for secrecy, but if I be wrong… Nay, I do not wish to think on it. But I must have your help. I need a boy’s clothes to fit me, as might befit an apprentice to a guildman. Think you that you can get these? Oh, and make them clean. I do not wish for vermin to infest my skin.”

“Aye, my lady. I can get them.”

Lyonene waited nervously for Kate’s return. She took the offered garments. “You told no one?”

Kate shook her head.

“They look to be of a good size. What else do you hold?”

“They are the boy’s clothes I shall wear.”

“You? But why should you dress as a boy?”