Rebellious Love Page 10

  A vivid tapestry hung across from the bed, and embroidered seat covers were set on the chairs and a bench beneath a window. But it was the floor covering that most amazed Verony. Instead of the customary rushes, another larger tapestry lay over most of the flagstones. The thought of walking on such exquisite work appalled her, even as she was fascinated by such imaginative use.

  "That is lovely," she began, pointing at the tapestry, "but surely we are not supposed to walk on it?"

  "I'm afraid you are. It's called a rug. Lady Emelie first saw them in the East and decided to use the same idea here. They are much warmer and more comfortable."

  So taken was she by the thing called a rug that Verony stared at it silently for several moments before Arianna's words fully reached her. "In the East, you said? Do you mean Lady Emelie has visited the Holy Land?"

  "Oh, indeed! Hasn't Curran told you? No, I suppose you haven't had time yet, being practically newlyweds." Grinning at Verony's blush, Arianna went on: "The Earl Garrett and Lady Emelie were married in the East, during the crusade of Richard the Lionhearted twenty-five years ago. My husband, Mark, their eldest son, was born before they returned to England." Hazel eyes sparkled mischievously as she concluded: "Emelie can probably be persuaded to tell you the story herself, so I won't spoil it. Suffice to say you are not the first d'Arcy bride to wed under unusual circumstances."

  "I hope that means the family will be able to accept me," Verony said in a burst of candor brought on by Arianna's friendliness. "I could hardly blame them if they did not."

  "Of course they will!" Arianna exclaimed, helping Verony off with her cloak. "How could you think otherwise?"

  "Quite easily. After all, I brought nothing to Curran except some hope of keeping the peace among our people. Surely his parents must have expected a wife who would bring him even greater wealth and power."

  Opening the door to admit servants carrying a tub and Verony's wardrobe, Arianna giggled: "Truthfully, I think the earl and his lady had almost given up hope of getting any of their sons wed. Curran and Mark showed no interest in proper young court ladies, and the other two are even worse. Their father could have forced the issue, but since he himself married for love and has never had cause to regret it, he wished his sons to have the same happiness. Until Mark and I met, it must have seemed such patience would go unrewarded."

  Somewhat reassured, Verony relaxed in the steaming bath water. As the serving women laid out fresh clothes, Arianna perched on the edge of the bed to keep her company. "You must be delighted to already be with child. How far along are you?"

  "About four months," Verony said, then waited for the speculation she felt must inevitably come. So far as she could determine, the child she carried had been conceived during those two blissful days in the bower. But others might presume she was breeding before she was wed.

  Arianna, however, showed no such suspicion. Laughing, she declared: "So Curran has lived up to the reputation of the d'Arcy men."

  At Verony's puzzled look, she continued: "I don't think there's been one in a century and a half who hasn't managed to get himself an heir within little more than a year of marriage. It's become a family tradition."

  One Curran had upheld with true fortitude, Verony mused as she soaped a slender leg. Barely a day had passed since their wedding that they had not managed to find the time and privacy for lovemaking. Since learning of the baby, their intimacy had become even more passionate and tender. Under Curran's loving care, Verony had blossomed into a confident, fulfilled woman. But motherhood still remained something of a mystery.

  "I don't know very much about children," she admitted softly. "I've helped birth foals and calves, but never a baby."

  "Don't be worrying about it," Arianna advised. "I'm sure Lady Emelie will arrange to attend you, as she did me. She's very knowledgeable. The earl's mother taught her much about childbirth that mid-wives either do not know or . . ." She broke off, glancing round to confirm that the serving women had left the room. ". . . or are afraid to use."

  Verony's eyes widened. This latest bit of information, hinting as it did at practices that might at the least be impious, made Lady Emelie seem all the more formidable. How could she hope to win the approval of this epitome of all feminine grace, this tower of beauty and strength to whom all deferred, even the proud, stalwart men of her family? Sighing, Verony wished vainly that she might have a little more time before having to confront her remarkable mother-in-law, even as she knew such a further reprieve was not to be.

  Having completed her bath and choked down a few morsels of the delicious repast set before her, Verony dressed with great care. As Arianna offered advice and encouragement, she selected a blue silk tunic which complemented her eyes and a crimson wool mantle, a daring choice with her dark-red hair, but which lent a welcome glow to the polished ivory of her skin. For jewelry, she chose only plain brooches, a simple gold circlet to hold her veil in place and Curran's ruby betrothal ring. Arianna agreed wholeheartedly with that decision, being so kind as to say her loveliness needed no ornament. Though she disclaimed such praise, Verony was glad of the reassurance. In Hilda's absence, the old nurse having been forced by stiffened bones and painful joints to remain at home, she needed all the support she could get.

  All too soon she was dressed and ready. Taking a deep breath, Verony followed her sister-in-law from the room.

  With the fast fading of the winter sun, torches were lit along both sides of the gallery. Dipped in the finest quality pitch, they smoked little and gave ample light. Arianna kept up a ready stream of chatter as they made their way to the Main Hall where the rest of the family was already gathered.

  Verony instinctively sought out Curran, only to find him in the midst of a group of men clustered around a tall, powerfully built noble she guessed at once must be the Earl Garrett. His years, near fifty by Verony's count, in no way diminished the unmistakable aura of virility and determination surrounding him.

  Rugged features very similar to Curran's were topped by the same raven-black hair lightly streaked by silver. A thin, white scar ran across the tanned skin of his jaw and throat, disappearing into the collar of a rich velvet tabard. Though made of costly materials and perfectly tailored to his heavily muscled length, the earl's clothes were sedate. Unlike many of the peacocks at court, he had no liking for excessive embroidery, lace trim or any of the other fopperies some men had recently affected.

  The gleaming dress sword at his hip was his only ornament save for the old-style gold bands at his wrists. Very few of the nobility still wore those ancient symbols of authority handed down from the Norsemen. Verony wondered if they might have

  been in the family for a long time, and felt a sudden flash of liking for a man who would preserve such tradition. But it was the woman at his side who most commanded her attention.

  Slender and small-boned, not quite reaching her husband's broad shoulders, the Lady Emelie was nonetheless a compelling figure. Verony had no doubt of who she was, although she looked far younger than might be expected. Thick, chestnut hair hung in waves to her tiny waist. Her features were delicate, set off by large, violet eyes and perfect skin as smooth as a young girl's.

  Her amber silk tunic and golden mantle emphasized high, firm breasts and gently curved hips that were slender despite the four children she had borne. A warm smile curved her ripe mouth as she laughed easily, with an inner contentment Verony could not help but recognize.

  The laugh broke off when she spied the two girls entering the hall. For just an instant, Verony felt the full impact of the Lady Emelie's acutely perceptive stare. Their eyes met and locked in a moment of silent but nonetheless intense contact. Verony recognized great intelligence coupled to rare courage and fortitude. Unconsciously she projected the same qualities in the proud straightening of her back, her uptilted chin and the steadiness of her sapphire gaze holding the countess'.

  Around them, Arianna and the d'Arcy men were silent. They understood full well what was happening and
saw no reason to interfere. The earl had already made his own evaluation of the radiantly beautiful girl who had captured his son's heart. He

  was smiling even before the Lady Emelie said: "Come in, my dear. You are very welcome."

  Grateful for her long skirts, which hid the trembling of her slender legs, Verony went to stand beside Curran. Putting an arm around her waist to draw her even closer, he grinned complacently. "I told them all how lovely you are, but they had to see you before believing."

  After formally introducing her to his parents, Curran presented his eldest brother, Mark, who turned out to be a slightly older and somewhat gentler version of Curran himself. They were of the same height and build and had their father's features, although Mark sported his mother's chestnut hair. The two younger boys, James and Kevin, were both raven-headed and green-eyed. In their late teens, they still had some inches to grow but already showed the brawny shoulders and muscular chests of their elders. Not at all shy or rumbling like many young men their age, James and Kevin welcomed her genially, kidding Curran that he did not deserve such luck.

  Before their jokes could get out of hand, Lady Emelie declared: "The cooks have labored hard and will be put out if we don't sit down promptly."

  Even on such short notice, a special supper was ready to celebrate their arrival. As the family took their places around the wide trestle table, the earl offered a toast.

  "I confess to some concern when Curran sent word of his marriage, but having met my new daughter, I am once more reassured as to his discernment." Raising his goblet, he said gently, "We are very glad to welcome you among us, Verony. May you and Curran have a long life together with great happiness."

  Deeply touched, Verony could only murmur her thanks. The experience of being in the midst of a warm, loving family was completely new to her. Curran had already shown her some of what she had missed during the long, unhappy years with her brutal father. But as she listened to the d'Arcys' affectionate jokes and ready camaraderie, she began to realize how rich their lives really were. Whatever might happen in the world outside, they could trust and love each other unreservedly. The knowledge that these remarkable people now regarded her as one of their own made her feel acutely humble. Silently she promised herself she would do everything possible to live up to their faith and, most of all, to Curran's.

  Certainly she could share his delight as he informed the family that there was further reason for rejoicing. "My nephew will shortly not be the only spoiled infant in this family. Come May, Verony will present me with an heir."

  His presumption that the child would be male made her laugh even as the family's exclamations of pleasure warmed her greatly. Only Mark looked the least chagrined, and that good-naturedly.

  "My lord knows he has been bested," Arianna explained teasingly. "Our son was born ten months after our wedding, a fact which has caused far too much crowing in certain quarters." Eyeing her husband fondly, she said: "It rests with your younger brothers to equal this record."

  "We'll do our best," James promised with an ingenuous leer. "But not for a while yet," Kevin chimed in. With the natural charm all the d'Arcys seemed to have in abundance, he added: "Since the two loveliest ladies in the kingdom are already wed, poor James and I will have to look long and hard to find anyone suitable."

  "And you'll enjoy every moment of the search," Curran snorted, bringing laughter all around.

  Inevitably, the talk turned to politics. Accepting a slice of pigeon pie, Arianna asked: "How is the archbishop? Still as determined?"

  The earl nodded. "Publicly he continues to speak of the king as God's representative on earth and to refer to the sanctity of the monarchy, making it clear however that he means the institution rather than the man who presently occupies it. But, in private, he leaves no doubt that John must be bridled."

  "Is it only John he wishes to restrain?" Emelie doubted. "Stephen Langton suspects all kings and has never made any secret that he thinks their power must be circumscribed."

  "I think the archbishop must have a secret fondness for our scapegrace sovereign," Curran suggested. "After all, who else could rally the barons in common cause?"

  "That's true," Mark agreed laughingly. "England's nobility has always preferred conflict to agreement. Put two lords together and they will argue everything from the color of the sky to the exact measure of a boundary. It's a wonder old William ever managed to get them over here. I'm surprised they didn't fall to blows on the Normandy beaches, fighting over who was to board the ships first."

  "They may be a shortsighted and rowdy lot," Earl Garrett agreed, "but they have no trouble identifying their own interests. John, God bless him, has offended everyone more or less equally. That's a rare talent in any man. In a reigning monarch, it's a gift we would be foolish not to use well."

  "Timing is the crucial element," Curran said, wiping his mouth on one of the squares of linen provided for that purpose. "Once the barons are fully unified, I doubt they could be held together very long. We must be ready to strike without delay."

  Bemused by the array of comforts she had never before imagined, let alone actually seen, Verony had some trouble following the talk. In addition to the cloths, there were circles of glazed pottery at each place on which the food was set after being selected from serving platters. Small knives of beaten gold lay beside each plate. These were used for cutting and spearing choice morsels.

  Despite the late season, when even the noblest households depended heavily on spices to mask the gaminess of aging food, everything Verony tasted was uniformly fresh. Lady Emelie clearly planned her menus carefully and ordered the frequent slaughtering of animals all year round. Certainly only the wealthiest families could afford such luxury. But the fact that others who might have managed it did not do so showed that more than wealth was involved. Only someone with an open mind who was not afraid to break with tradition could have devised such lavishness.

  Busy wondering what other marvels the household might contain, it took Verony a moment to understand what Curran had just said. When his words finally reached her, she came down to earth abruptly.

  "Are you saying you mean to rebel against the king?" she asked in a voice little more than a whisper.

  Seeing her white face and strained manner, Curran longed to reassure his wife. But he could not lie. "We hope it will not come to that. If all the barons join with us, John will have no choice but to give in. But if it comes to an armed conflict, we will not retreat."

  "But your oaths of fealty ..." Verony began, only to break off as Lady Emelie insisted: "The king's utter disregard for his own responsibilities has made those oaths void. How can honorable men be expected to follow a weakling knave who has brought only shame to the crown from the day he first claimed it?"

  Four months of living with Curran, who discussed all manor business with her and made it clear he expected to be challenged when she believed him wrong, gave Verony the courage to persist. "There have been poor kings before, even evil ones. Yet oaths were still respected and loyalty maintained. What has changed now?"

  "What has changed," the earl said quietly, "is that now men are more angry than afraid. It used to be that the Church told us to obey our kings, who in turn obeyed the Pope. Believing that to do otherwise would displease God, we suffered all manner of royal abuse. But since the interdict, we have learned that God's displeasure, if it is in fact the same thing as the Pope's, shows itself in strange ways indeed. Since no calamity befell us then, it is reasonable to expect it will not now."

  "But since John has submitted to Rome and got himself back in favor, isn't it likely that Pope Innocent would at least threaten to excommunicate any who rebel against him?"

  "Innocent is no fool," Curran insisted. "He's fully aware that his excommunication of John and subsequent reinstatement did nothing but weaken the church in England. Papal wrath is no longer the weapon it once was. Rather than risk a total breakdown of holy authority, he will tolerate much."

  "If you are
right," Verony considered, "and neither the Pope nor the barons will support John, then what is to stop you from deposing him and putting one of your own in his place?"

  The d'Arcy's looked at each other uncomfortably. They were no strangers to the charge of coveting the throne for themselves. But neither were they so unrealistic as to believe it within their grasp.

  Mark cleared his throat before saying: "The Crown Prince Henry is still a child, but he already shows signs of being far different from his sire. He seems more like his grandfather, who was a hard but able ruler. Many who would not raise a finger to help John would act to protect the boy. Right now, he is the best alternative we have to the chaos of civil war."

  "Unfortunately," Curran admitted, "not all the barons feel as we do. There are hotheads in any group, men who think the solution to every problem is a war. So far we have managed to control them, but I'm not sure how much longer that can last."

  "It will have to last some months yet," the earl insisted. "John is hardly likely to give in at once, especially when he knows we could not fight until the weather improves. If I had my way, we would wait until early spring to challenge him."

  Emelie reached across the table to touch his hand, her violet eyes dark with concern. "But that isn't likely, is it?"

  The earl shook his head. "The barons have no patience. Their unity is a tenuous thing at best. Men I might count on today could well be gone tomorrow. So some action must be taken to keep them from breaking ranks."

  The family absorbed this quietly, the men and Lady Emelie seeking some way around the problem while Arianna and Verony worried about the outcome. Part of the family and yet still outsiders, they could only pray the courage of their kin would lead to restraint rather than impulsiveness. Finally Curran asked: "Is that what you and the archbishop talked about this time?"