your hall!' The Duke indicated the bench at his left hand side, and hitched his chair closer to Julitta's.
'You will pardon me if I seem a trifle distracted,' Rolf said, warning Robert before he started his usual back-thumping, all comrades together routine, 'but my wife died at the convent of the Magdalene this morning – it was expected, but nevertheless,' he made a small hand gesture serve for the remainder and sat down heavily.
Julitta poured him a cup of wine and looked at him anxiously. He managed a half-smile for her and an almost imperceptible grimace in the direction of the Duke. Her eyes kindled with understanding, and she pulled a face of her own. 'Papa, I'm sorry.'
Rolf shook his head. 'She was at peace,' he said, and raised the cup to his lips.
'My condolences,' Robert's open features sobered at the news. 'Your lovely daughter told me that you had gone to visit your lady and that she was mortally sick. I will pay for the priests to say a special mass for her this very day, God rest her soul.' He crossed himself vigorously. 'She was a gentle, pious lady, you will miss her sorely.'
'Yes.' Rolf examined his wine, its colour the dark red of his daughter's hair. Robert of Normandy might be vainglorious and selfish, but the words, for what they were worth, were genuinely meant.
'That makes it all the more difficult for me to impose upon you, but impose I must,' Robert added with a theatrical sigh, and leaned back in his chair.
Rolf shook his head and murmured a polite, half-hearted disclaimer. He did not own the stamina today for Robert of Normandy's impositions. 'Must' in the new Duke's case was frequently a cover for the more indulgent 'want'.
'My father was accustomed to buying all his horses from you,' Robert said, 'and I see no reason to change that. Of course,' he added, his eyebrows puckering, 'I am not entirely at ease that you should continue to trade with my brother William. It seems to me a conflict of interests.'
Rolf took a slow drink of wine and rolled it around his mouth, while he wondered how to reply. If Robert's imposition was a demand that he cease selling horses to Rufus, then he knew he could not, nay, would not meet it. 'In England, I am your brother's tenant, in Normandy I am yours,' he said after a moment, his tone polite, but firm. 'Many of us with lands on both sides of the narrow sea are divided in our loyalties and obligations. But you and your brothers have always looked to Brize and the new farm at Ulverton to provide you with warhorses. If you and Rufus come to friendly terms and I have refused to trade with one or the other of you, where does that leave me? No, my lord. I will conduct my business as I see fit.'
Robert continued to frown. He drummed his thick fingers on the table. 'You don't even like Rufus,' he growled.
'No, my lord, but he has my pledge for my English lands since your lord father designated him the heir.'
'Is that why you are here, Lord Robert?' Julitta interrupted. 'To persuade my father to change his ways?' She regarded the Duke with limpid eyes, her face turned towards him in a pose that almost invited a kiss, yet retained an air of innocence.
Mauger almost choked on his food, and Rolf on his wine, both men wondering what devilry she was at. The Duke was partial to pretty women, and she appeared to be playing up to his weakness.
Robert cleared his throat, and his complexion grew ruddy. 'Well partly, yes,' he said. 'It isn't a good idea for a man to have two masters.'
Julitta nodded, as if Robert's words were pearls of ineffable wisdom. 'What about two mistresses?' she asked saucily.
Robert threw his head back and laughed. 'That neither!' he chuckled, and glanced at Rolf. 'She has a sharp tongue, your daughter!'
Rolf said nothing, his eyes slightly narrowed as he pondered her outrageous behaviour. Beside him, he thought that Mauger was going to have an apoplexy.
Julitta said, 'I am like my father, so I am told.' She leaned a little closer to the Duke and made good use of her eyelashes, lowering them, looking at him through them. She wanted to put Robert of Normandy off the dangerous subject of oaths and loyalty. She knew the man, had watched Merielle manipulate him like warm clay at Dame Agatha's bathhouse, and was thoroughly confident that she could do the same.
'Your father does not delight me half so much!' Robert warmly flirted in return.
Julitta gave him a look of playful reproval. Then she tilted her head to one side. 'So what is the main reason for your visit, my lord?' Her voice was rich and low now, inviting confidences. And by suggesting that his complaint to Rolf was only a trifling side matter, she was able to dismiss it from Robert's mind. He might remember it later, but by then he would be so bedazzled that he would let it lie, or else, knowing him, would be too lazy to turn back and settle the issue.
Robert basked in the light from Julitta's eyes, in her attentive expression, the slightly parted lips. 'I have come to ask your father to obtain some stock for me. I want a Spanish stallion such as my own father rode.' He patted Julitta's hand where it lay on the trestle. Then he looked at Rolf. 'Do you think that you can find one for me?'
Rolf shifted in his chair. 'A Spanish stallion,' he said slowly.
'I'm not saying that those you breed are not good enough,' Robert added hastily, 'but my father always had a Spanish stallion for the most important occasions, a sort of mark of prestige, and I want one too.'
Rolf rubbed his jaw, where stubble, silver and red, was beginning to poke through the skin. But you will never be even half the man your father was, he thought. If you were, the King of Castile would have sent you such a horse by now. 'I daresay I could find what you want, but it would not come cheaply.'
Robert took his meaty paw from Julitta's hand, and gave a profligate wave. 'Don't worry, you will be paid.'
Rolf's lips tightened. With what? he wanted to ask. Robert's spendthrift nature was notorious. Already he was in debt to the moneylenders, and it was not even a year since his father had died with a well-stocked treasury. In silence he finished his wine. It was too much of an effort to enquire of the fine details such as colour and weight, broken or unbroken. He wondered to himself if Benedict would bring anything back from his pilgrimage that was suitable, thereby saving the need for a further excursion.
'Well?' Robert demanded. 'Will you fulfil my commission, or shall I look elsewhere?'
Rolf passed a weary hand across his forehead. 'Forgive me, my lord, I am tired and in a state of grief. I shall be pleased to fulfil your commission if there is nothing at Brize that takes your eye.'
Robert's gaze admired Julitta. 'There is always something at Brize to take my eye,' he said with double meaning, 'but I still want a Spanish warhorse.' He allowed the squire serving at table to replenish his cup.
'There is a horse fair in Bordeaux in two months' time. Belike I could find you something there. Spanish stock is frequently traded, and at better prices than in the north.'
'As you wish.' Robert's concentration remained on Julitta. 'I am sure that I have met you before now,' he said with a puzzled frown between his russet brows.
Julitta had known that there were dangers inherent in flirting with Duke Robert. If he remembered that he had previously encountered her in a Southwark brothel, there would be no constraints on his lechery. 'Probably when I was a child, my lord,' she said lightly. 'I was always underfoot in the stables.'
'Yes, perhaps.' Robert pinched his chin between forefinger and thumb. 'But I cannot help thinking it was elsewhere that I saw you.'
She gave him a smile and a shrug, and towed the conversation into safer waters by asking him about the kind of Spanish horse he wanted. Basking in her attention, Robert followed her lead with enthusiasm, and the subject lasted them until the servants began clearing away the trestles in the main part of the hall and stacking them neatly down one wall.
Robert gently squeezed her knee beneath the table before he rose to visit the latrine. 'You are a beautiful woman,' he murmured. 'Would that I could have more of your company.'
Julitta had been expecting this particular move all evening, but it did not prevent her stomach from lurching now that it was played. 'You honour me, my lord,' she said demurely, and thought that his intention was more in the realm of dishonour'.
'I speak no more than the truth. Perhaps you would like to visit the full splendour of my court?'
Julitta lowered her lashes. 'That is most generous of you, my lord,' she murmured. 'But I have my position
