A Passionate Magic Page 12

  “Why did you not send Emma back to her father as soon as you saw that she was a grown woman?” Lady Richenda demanded of her son.

  “You know as well as I that the marriage was made at the will of King Henry. By the terms he imposed on Gavìn and me, I could not refuse to accept my wife,” Dain said mildly.

  “Then defy the king!” cried Lady Richenda.

  “I will not.”

  “What you mean,” said Lady Richenda with great contempt, “is that you want to bed her again. Dain, where is your resolve? Where is the hatred for anyone of Udo’s blood that I have tried so hard to instill in you?”

  “My lady, I beg of you,” Father Maynard protested, “cease this talk of hatred. Vengeance belongs to the Lord, not to mere mortals.”

  “I shall become the Lord’s right hand, wreaking His vengeance for the wrongs done to my husband and his father. I shall do the Lord’s work, if my son will not!”

  Lady Richenda’s fierce blue-green gaze met and clashed with Emma’s, and Emma trembled inwardly, for she perceived in Lady Richenda a true fanatic. The woman hated her beyond reason, and Emma was sure if Lady Richenda ever learned about her magical power, she would use the information as a weapon against her, and against those whom she loved.

  Therefore, Emma decided, she could not tell Dain the truth. If she did, he might reveal her magical ability to his mother, either inadvertently or deliberately. Emma’s heart sank within her as she contemplated the lie of omission that she had intended to remedy at her first opportunity and now must maintain indefinitely. Lady Richenda had just driven a wedge of dishonesty between husband and wife, harming their marriage without ever knowing it.

  “Lady Richenda,” said Father Maynard in a stern voice, “you cannot know what the Lord’s will is. It is possible that the Lord wants peace between Penruan and Wroxley.”

  “What / want,” Lady Richenda told him, “is for you to say Holy Mass in thanksgiving for my safe return home before this enemy creature was able to cause any more harm to Penruan than she has already done. I have fasted since rising this morning; therefore, you will conduct the service before the midday meal. I will be in the chapel within half an hour, and I expect everyone who is in the great hall to attend. You may tell them so.”

  “My lady, I believe the midday meal is ready to be served,” Father Maynard said.

  “Then tell the servants to put the food on the tables before they go to the chapel,” Lady Richenda ordered.

  “The meal will be cold before the Mass is over,” Emma protested. “That’s unfair to the men-at-arms who have been on guard duty since dawn and who need warming food.”

  “Are you claiming their bodies are more important than their immortal souls?” asked Lady Richenda.

  “I am saying that both are important,” Emma said, and would have gone on to suggest that the food be kept hot in the kitchen, but Lady Richenda stopped her.

  “You are wrong,” Lady Richenda declared in the voice of one who is absolutely sure of herself. “Nothing is more important than a person’s immortal soul, and if you think differently, then you are doomed to a most unpleasant surprise in the Hereafter. Dain, I expect to see you in the chapel.” Lady Richenda stalked out of the room, pausing only long enough to indicate with a fierce look that Father Maynard should follow her.

  “Dain, I am sorry,” Emma said. “It was not my intention to quarrel with your mother.”

  “Then see to it that you do not quarrel with her in the future.” He rose from the chair but did not look at her.

  “I fear it will be a difficult task. She does not like me.”

  “Considering the bloodshed that lies between our families, can you blame her?”

  “I thought she would accept the king’s will.” When he did not respond at once, Emma went to him and laid her hands on his rigid back. “Dain, please look at me.”

  He turned to meet her eyes, but there was no warmth in him. This was the same cold and distant man who had confronted her on her arrival at Penruan, and she knew it was his mother’s harsh words that had changed him from the gentler soul she had just begun to know, the lover who had shown her unimagined delights.

  “I want to thank you,” she said, hoping to see in him some slight return of kindness.

  “For what?” The words were abrupt, clipped off between his gritted teeth.

  “For the gifts,” she said, and let her hands stray upward along his arms, feeling the hard muscles that tensed beneath her stroking gestures. When she touched one finger to the corner of his mouth, he turned his head away.

  ”What gifts?” he asked.

  “The flower, and the herb,” she said, smiling at him.

  Dain frowned at her as if he did not understand what she was talking about, but before he could respond, Hawise came into the room.

  “I am sorry to interrupt you,” Hawise said. “Lady Richenda insists that both of you must join her in the chapel at once.”

  “Yes, I know,” Dain said.

  When he started to pull away from her, Emma went up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. He made no response, but stood still for a moment, then turned his back on her and went out the door.

  Chapter 8

  “I have not seen that disreputable squire of yours,” Lady Richenda remarked to Dain when Mass was over and the inhabitants of Penruan were finally assembled in the great hall for a very late midday meal. “Dare I hope you have finally had the good sense to take my advice and send Robert away?”

  They were sitting at the high table, eating a meat pie that ought to have been steaming hot but instead was cold, and a rather unsavory cold vegetable stew. Over Emma’s protests Lady Richenda refused to allow any of the food to be reheated, saying denial of comfort was good for the soul. The men-at-arms seemed to be making up for the lack of hot food by drinking more wine and ale than usual, and the great hall was becoming noisy. Emma could riot help wondering if the noise was an attempt on the part of the men to blot out the constant, strident sounds of Lady Richenda’s irritating voice.

  Dain was sitting between his wife and his mother, and at Lady Richenda’s unkind words Emma saw his hand clench around his wine goblet, while his mouth thinned in the way she was beginning to recognize as a sign of tightly reined anger. She marveled that his mother did not notice and stop her prying about Robert’s absence.

  ”I trust we will not see him again,” Lady Richenda said.

  “No, you will not,” Dain replied. “Robert was killed recently while fighting outlaws.”

  “Was he?” Lady Richenda put down the sliver of cheese she had been nibbling on. Bowing her head she made the sign of the cross, then clasped her hands and whispered a brief prayer. When she was finished she looked at Dain with no hint of warmth or sympathy in her gaze. “I always disapproved of your decision to take that creature of sin into your personal service. At least he died in a good cause. I suppose that thought will comfort you.” She picked up her cheese again and resumed her meal.

  “How can you be so hard-hearted?” Emma cried, unable to keep quiet any longer. “Robert was your grandchild.”

  “He was a bastard,” said Lady Richenda, as if that coldly uttered statement explained her apparent indifference to a tragic loss.

  “I only met Robert once before he rode off to fight and die,” Emma said, “but he seemed to be a good lad, and devoted to his father. And Dain loved him.”

  “That’s enough, Emma.” Dain’s voice was quiet, his hand on Emma’s gentle. “I thank you for your kind words in my son’s behalf, but please, say no more.”

  “Is that how you did it?” asked Lady Richenda, leaning forward to look at Emma across Dain.

  “Did what? Emma asked her.

  “Did you lure my son into your bed by pretending to share his unseemly grief over a child born out of filthy sin? Did you take advantage of his sorrow and use it to soften his heart against his sworn enemy?”

  “My lady,” gasped Father Maynard, who was sitting on Lady Richenda’s other s
ide, “I do protest your unfounded accusations.”

  “So do I,” Emma said. ”Lady Richenda, I am not Dain’s enemy, I am his wife.”

  “Not for long,” said Lady Richenda.

  “My lady!” Father Maynard exclaimed, openly horrified by the threat in her words.

  “Be quiet, all of you!” Dain thundered. “If you cannot be still, then leave the table. I will have peace while I eat!”

  There was silence in response to Dain’s command, but there was no peace in Emma’s heart. As if in protest against all the unpleasant emotions she was trying to conceal, her stomach rebelled. She could eat nothing more and waved away a bowl of egg custard flavored with almonds, offering only a weak smile of apology to the servant who carried the bowl.

  As soon as Dain rose from the table, signaling the end of the meal, Emma excused herself and fled to the calm safety of the stillroom. There she heated water on the brazier and made an infusion, steeping mint leaves in the boiling water until their fragrance was released into the air. She dipped some of the infusion into a pottery cup, then sat on a stool by the worktable, holding the cup in both hands as she sipped at the mint-flavored liquid.

  “Dain was beginning to trust me, and I know he desired me,” she said, thinking aloud. ”We might have created a good marriage, if only we had been granted more time together before his mother returned. But how can I convince him to give up this feud when Lady Richenda is so set against my family?”

  She took another gulp of the hot mint brew, feeling it beginning to settle her stomach. Slowly, warmth and courage returned to her.

  “There must be something I can do to bring peace to both our families; it’s why I came here, after all. I will pay careful attention to everything that happens, I will keep my eyes open and listen well, and I will discover a way. I must!”

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock on the stillroom door. Before Emma could respond, the door was pushed open and Blake stumbled into the room. He was clutching at his right thigh with both hands.

  “My lady,” Blake gasped, “Sloan sent me. He thought you’d be here, and I prayed you would be. I’ve hurt my leg. Please help me.”

  “Oh, Blake!” Emma set down her cup and went to him. She did not need to hear his fragmented explanation of an accident while he was practicing with a battle-ax to see that the gash just above his right knee was a painful wound and could have been a dangerous one.

  She made him sit on the stool she had just vacated while she removed his shoe and cut away his blood-soaked hose so she could better examine the wound.

  “You are fortunate it wasn’t deeper,” she said. To distract Blake from the pain and fear she was certain he was feeling, she began to explain what she was about to do. “The wound won’t require stitching, although later we will have to ask Hawise to sew another leg on your hose. But that’s a small matter. No, don’t touch the cut. Let it bleed a bit until I gather what I’ll need. The mint water I brewed a while ago has cooled enough for me to use it to clean the wound, and I have a supply of sanicle that I brought with me from Wroxley. It’s the best herb for treating open wounds. I’ll soon have your leg treated and bandaged, and if you are careful not to get dirt into the cut until the skin closes, you should suffer no permanent damage. You will have a stiff leg for a time, but you can work out the stiffness with exercise. I’m sure either Dain or Sloan will be happy to tell you how to do that.”

  Blake was looking a little pale, so she gave him some wine mixed with water and a few drops of poppy syrup to hearten him and take away the worst of the pain, and then she set to work on his leg. She was just finishing with the bandage when Dain arrived.

  “Sloan told me the boy was hurt. How are you, Blake?” Dain ruffled Blake’s dark hair.

  “He will be well enough in a day or two,” Emma answered for him.

  “Be more careful the next time you handle a sharp blade,” Dain warned Blake. Then, to Emma, he said, “Thank you. When I heard what happened, I feared I might lose a second potential knight.”

  “No chance of that. The wound is a clean one. I don’t believe it will fester,” Emma responded, warmed by the light she perceived in Dain’s eyes. “Blake ought to lie down and stay quiet for a while, though, so the bleeding doesn’t begin again.”

  “And put on your second pair of hose,” Dain advised, chuckling at the sight of Blake’s bare leg and his none-too-clean foot.

  “I will.” Blake pulled on his shoe, then stood and attempted a cautious step. “Ow! Oh! It doesn’t hurt too much,” he said, glancing at Dain.

  “As I expected,” Dain told him, “you will grow up to become a brave knight.”

  “Yes, my lord. It’s what I hope to do.” Blake limped toward the door.

  Behind Blake’s back Dain and Emma exchanged a smile of adult understanding that lasted only an instant, until Lady Richenda stalked into the still-room, with Father Maynard in attendance.

  “How dare you use this room without my permission!” Lady Richenda exclaimed, coming to a halt just a few inches away from Emma.

  “I have Dain’s permission to use the room,” Emma said, speaking as calmly as she could when confronted by Lady Richenda’s cold outrage.

  “Why?” Lady Richenda turned to her son. “Cooking herbs are stored in this room. Only the cook or I may enter it. Why have you entrusted the key to this outsider?”

  “Because Emma asked it of me,” Dain said with remarkable patience. “Because I believe she can do some good with her herbal remedies.”

  “Blake!” Lady Richenda had noticed the boy, who was standing partly hidden behind the door. One skinny hand reached out to grab Blake by the ear and drag him forth. As soon as Lady Richenda got a good look at him, she dropped her hand and stepped back as if in shock. “Why, you are half naked! As usual, you are a disgrace to your name and to my service. If you wish to remain my page, you will explain to me at once what is the meaning of your present state of undress.”

  “Blake was injured, as you can see by his bandage.” Stepping forward, Emma put a protective arm around the boy. “In order to treat his wound, it was necessary to cut off one leg of his hose.”

  “And you allowed her to do this, knowing how I consider treatment of injuries and illnesses to be in opposition to the Will of the Lord?” Lady Richenda turned to Dain again. “Have you no faith at all? Those whom the Lord favors will recover from their afflictions without mortal intervention. I suppose you have invited that witch, Agatha, here in my absence, as well as admitting your enemy wife to my private room?”

  “The room was virtually unused,” Emma said, so appalled by Lady Richenda’s cruel viewpoint that for the moment she could think of no other argument.

  “The room belongs to me. Return the key to me at once. I do not want you or that godless, wicked Agatha to come in here ever again, to practice your vile herbal treatments. And as for this immoral page, he also belongs to me, and I intend to see him properly chastised for his nakedness!” Lady Richenda pointed a skeletal finger at Blake.

  “He is not naked, only bare-legged,” Emma said. She sent a look of appeal in Dain’s direction, hoping he would speak up to protect Blake. To her relief, Dain did not fail her.

  “In fact, Mother, I gave Blake to Emma, to attend her,” Dain said.

  “First my stillroom, then my page? Where is your loyalty, Dain?” Lady Richenda demanded.

  “My loyalty lies where it has always lain,” Dain told her, “with Penruan, and with the folk whose liege lord I am. The people of Trevanan have Agatha to care for their illnesses and injuries, but for too long those who live here in the castle have had no healer. Emma’s knowledge of herbs is extensive, and so far she has served us well. She will continue to do so.”

  ”You cannot trust her!” Lady Richenda cried. “She is one of Udo’s spawn.” She looked as if she wanted to say much more. Dain’s furious face stopped her.

  “I will not be caught in a quarrel between my mother and my wife,’ Dain said. “Emma w
ill not exceed the permission I have given her. You, Mother, will not prevent her from carrying out the duties I have granted her leave to perform. I trust both of you understand me, and will obey my wishes.”

  “But-!” Lady Richenda exclaimed, plainly about to say much more.

  “Thank you, my lord,” Emma said, bowing her head to him.

  “Ah, you are clever!” Lady Richenda cried, turning on her. “Meek and mild, and agreeable in bed, too, I’ll wager. But you won’t win. Dain is my son, and you are only an interloper, not to be trusted. You will not last long.”

  “If any harm comes to Emma,” Dain said, “I will know where to look first. Father Maynard, you are witness to my mother’s threatening words.”

  “Now you will use my priest against me?” Lady Richenda cried. “What have you left me?”

  “Your noble dignity, if only you will assume it,” Dain said. He headed for the door, pausing just as he reached it to look back at his mother. “Perhaps you also need reminding that Father Maynard is not your personal priest. He has been assigned to the entire parish of Penruan and Trevanan, and thus he serves all of us.”

  “This is your doing,” Lady Richenda hissed at Emma as soon as Dain was gone. “You have corrupted my son. But I will live to see vengeance done against you and all your wicked family. Come, Father Maynard.” The very picture of righteous indignation, she walked out of the stillroom with her back stiff and her head high.

  “I will endeavor to soften her heart,” Father Maynard said, lingering for a moment. “I fear it will be a difficult task. As you have heard, she is firmly set in all of her prejudices.”

  “Father Maynard!” came the imperious voice from the corridor.

  “Yes, my lady, I am coming.” With a smile that encompassed both Emma and Blake, the priest took his leave.

  “I’ve never seen Lady Richenda so angry,” Blake said. “She must have had a dreadful fight with her sister.”