daughters unless they make it impossible for you not to.
He reached down and helped her to stand. She limped gingerly on the damaged ankle, and made small, sobbing sounds. Rolf resisted the urge to comfort her.
'Your sister and her mother must never hear of this,' he said grimly, as they began a slow progress towards the keep. 'For the sake of everyone you have ignored in your lust, you will hold your peace, and so will Benedict.'
'But… but what about the people who saw us?'
'They were drunken villagers. They were mistaken. Father Jerome will confirm this if he desires my patronage.'
They walked in tension-filled silence for a while, Julitta limping and sniffing on tears, Rolf's face set like granite facing a storm. 'I thought to give you time,' he said as they approached the huge wooden gateway. 'I see I have given you too much. You tell me that you will gladly pay the price — those are just words. Do you think you can stay under the same roof as Gisele after this? Even if she lives in ignorance, you will not. And what if you have conceived a child this night? Are you ready to face the world with your brother-in-law's baby in your arms and say that you will pay the price?'
Julitta shivered. 'I do not regret lying with him,' she said. 'Whatever you throw at me, you will not make me change my mind. Done is done, and yes, I will pay what is due.' Her jaw was set defiantly, but the wobble of her chin gave her away. She was very frightened.
'You have no choice.' Rolf's jaw was set too. 'As you say, done is done.'
Benedict awoke to the glimmer of a milky dawn. He was lying on the floor before the altar of the village church where he had knelt to pray last night, before finally succumbing to exhaustion of body and spirit.
His tongue was cloven to the roof of his mouth and his stomach churned like a dyer's vat. He blinked and wondered with momentary bewilderment what he was doing here. Then it all came flooding back and he put his face in his hands and groaned.
The sound that had awoken him from stiff sleep was that of a horse being ridden up to the church door and the chink of harness as the animal was tethered to the bridle ring in the wall. Now, the heavy, iron-barred door creaked open. Rising to his feet, Benedict watched Rolf pace down the nave towards him. His father-in-law's expression was bleak, but the fury of the previous evening was stonily controlled.
Rolf halted when he was several yards away, and the two men stared at each other.
'I won't waste my breath by telling you what a fool you are, or how angry I am,' Rolf said. 'There would be no point, and we need to deal in practical terms this morning, not lose our heads. Agreed?'
'Yes, sir.' Benedict felt queasy. He longed to sit down, but knew that he must face Rolf in order to hold his ground. Already he was at a disadvantage. 'If I could undo last night, I would.'
'That is not what Julitta says,' Rolf said with a grimace. 'I could whip her skinless and still she would not repent. Christ, I don't know, perhaps neither of you ever had a chance.' He looked at Benedict from eyes that were bloodshot and pouched with weariness, for he had not slept, having used that time instead for pondering the solution. 'How long has this been going on beneath my nose?'
Benedict swallowed. 'It hasn't, sir. Last night was the first time.'
'No fire without kindling,' Rolf growled. 'You did not just join up to mate like two animals in the wild.'
'No, sir. I…' Benedict closed his eyes. A nauseous headache beat behind his lids with a similar tempo to the drum beats of the night before. 'I married Gisele in good faith. There was nothing between myself and Julitta then, I swear it. Nor would there be now if…' He broke off and swore beneath his breath. 'I tried to keep my distance, but last night… it was too much.'
'Too much indeed,' Rolf said and dug his fingers through his hair. 'Best I think if you leave for a while. I have decided that you can take over my work, search out new clients and good bloodstock, visit the established ones. You need more experience on that side of the trade, and I'm becoming too old to spend so much time on the road. In other words, I am sending you out of temptation's way and giving the dust time to settle. You will leave this morning as soon as you have collected what you need.'
It was a practical solution and Benedict felt a pang of relief, closely followed by one of regret and misgiving. 'What about Julitta?'
Rolf's lips tightened. 'She is my daughter,' he said. 'I will deal with her fairly. That is all you need to know.'
'But I…'
'Perhaps you ought to consider your other responsibility, your wife,' Rolf added, his eyes hard.
'Does she know?' Benedict swallowed, feeling utterly wretched. If only Julitta had been his wife in the first place.
'Not the entire truth, although you will come out of it with a whiter fleece than ever you deserve. She thinks that you took part in the revels with one of the village women, and then, overcome with remorse, you spent the remainder of the night in the church, praying for forgiveness.'
'And I suppose she is prepared to forgive me too?' Benedict said angrily.
'I suggest you make your peace.'
Benedict snorted. Making peace with Gisele was like wading neck-deep in carded wool. The best peace he could make was a peck on the cheek, a mumbled apology, and a rapid departure. The shocking notion came to him that perhaps he could elope with Julitta. There were lands beyond Normandy and England, and he had a skill at his fingertips. His soul would be damned, but he would find ways to redeem it through the years. The anger left his face, and a spark kindled in his eyes.
'I'll make my peace,' he agreed. 'I had better speak to Julitta too.'
'You can't,' Rolf said, and there was no triumph in his eyes, only a great weariness. 'She is not at Brize. I sent her elsewhere, this morning, before I came to you. Knowing you, and knowing my own past, I judged it for the best. As far as Arlette and Gisele are concerned, Julitta was indiscreet last night, but they do not know how far. Nor shall they from me. Let them believe that she went no further than drunken fondling.'
'You are building on lies.' The gleam in Benedict's eyes had turned to anger once more, and mixed with it, chagrin, that his intentions should have been less obvious to himself than they had been to Rolf.
Rolf sighed heavily, and genuflecting, knelt before the altar. 'Only because I can find no firm foundations for the future in outright truth,' he said.
CHAPTER 48
Julitta was accustomed to either riding or walking everywhere she went, and found Arlette's litter both claustrophobic and uncomfortable. Every rut in the road threatened to jolt her bones out of their sockets despite the padding of tapestry-worked cushions stuffed with duck down. The excuse of making her travel by litter was that her twisted ankle would not benefit from being stressed by a stirrup, but she knew that the real reason had more to do with keeping her out of sight and under control.
Where she was bound, she did not know, her father had not told her. Nor had she asked questions, still being in too much of a daze. Sorry and not sorry. Stubborn and frightened. Ready to brazen it out and ready to yield. And between all these conflicting directions, she found herself paralysed. Within the litter, she curled up on the cushions, her ears filled with the creak of the wooden wheels and the plod, plod of the horse's hooves as they drew her further and further away from Brize-sur-Risle, and from Benedict.
Nursing the devil of a headache, Mauger avoided breaking his fast in the hall, and went on a slow round of inspection. There were few people about, for it was not much after dawn, and most adults were only just stirring from the surfeits and abuses of wearing the green'. His own recollections were hazy, but at least he had remained sober enough to find his way to bed.
Some folk still snored where drink and dancing and lust had felled them.
Mauger was busy examining a mare and her new chestnut foal when he saw Benedict de Remy emerge from a stall and lead a fully saddled Cylu towards the mounting block. Two laden pack ponies were tethered nearby, and a groom appeared with another saddled horse and two chestnut yearlings.
'Early business?' Mauger enquired.
