She made a choking sound and, turning to one side, retched up the wine she had drunk. He watched her and said nothing, his eyes brightly observing her response as he had observed it in the act of love. He was surprised to find that he really did feel jealous — although he had no intention of running Pascal through on his sword. There were other, subtler means of torture.
'Is that a condition of his release, you having me? she demanded as she sat up. Her voice hovered on the verge of loathing.
Louis kept his own voice level, a little apologetic. 'I suppose you could take it that way, Catty my love, but I was hoping that you would cleave to me without such threats. You cannot marry him while I still live. You cannot give him legitimate heirs of his body or stand in church with him. Taking her hands in his, he leaned towards her. 'I promise on my honour to be a better husband than I was before. I still love you and desire you. I always have.
'But you don't love me enough to set me free, she said flatly.
'Is that what you want?
She jutted her jaw at him, and the old, stubborn look was back on her face. The one presented to him when he strolled home from the alehouse three hours later than promised with blond hairs on his tunic. 'I want to see Oliver.
Louis eyed her thoughtfully, considering his options. He could run the risk of 'setting her free' and hope that she chose him, or he could hold her to ransom with Oliver's release as the price. The first was the more dangerous but ultimately the more satisfying if things went his way. The second would ensure him her body, her obedience and access to King Stephen, but not the devotion he craved from her.
He inclined his head. 'If that is your desire. There was a doubtful note in his voice. 'But I am not sure it is for the best.
'I want to see him, she repeated, her voice trembling.
Rising, Louis beat crumbs of soil and bark from his elegant tunic. Then he helped her to her feet, his expression one of tender anxiety. 'It is your decision. He brushed gently at the creases and rumples in her gown.
'I know. Trembling, she stiffened her spine.
Louis cupped her face with his palm and brushed away her tears with a gentle thumb. 'Then, Holy Christ, I pray you make the right one, he said softly, and anticipation quivered through him at the size of the gamble he had just taken.
Chapter 19
Oliver was seated over a merels board with Geoffrey, halfheartedly considering his move, when their prison door opened and Louis de Grosmont returned.
Oliver eyed him with surprise. He had not thought to see de Grosmont again until his next turn of duty, especially after viewing him with the woman in the bailey. The satisfied glow on the man's face and the sated droop of his eyelids suggested that the encounter had been profitable. 'Now what does he want? Oliver muttered out of the side of his mouth.
Geoffrey glanced over his shoulder. 'You by the looks of things. Perhaps he's still hoping to woo you.
Oliver curled his lip. 'If he is, then he's in for a sad disappointment. He straightened his expression as Louis sauntered over to their trestle.
'I need to speak with you alone, Louis said to Oliver, and gestured to another trestle in the corner.
Close up, Oliver could smell the sweat of the man's exertion and the faint, but disturbingly familiar, perfume of rose attar. He raised one eyebrow, first at Geoffrey, then at Louis. In his own time he pushed to his feet. 'About what?
'About your ransom. Again Louis indicated the corner.
Oliver was tempted to dig in his heels and stay where he was but decided that it would serve no purpose. If Louis wanted to discuss his ransom, it was best to co-operate. Warily, he rose and went to the empty trestle. There was a wine stain on the wood and some drips of hardened candle wax from the night before.
'What about my ransom? he demanded as Louis joined him. 'Have you suddenly decided to raise the stakes?
'Let us just say that the stakes have changed. Louis rested his hip on the table and leaned into Oliver's space.
Oliver immediately slouched back on the bench and folded his arms to show that he was neither impressed nor intimidated. 'In what way? His expression was sardonic. 'Have I suddenly become so wealthy or important that my value has vastly increased?
Louis smiled with his mouth but not with his eyes which remained as wary as Oliver's. 'Important, yes, he said. 'In fact, so important that you are free to collect your weapons and go.
All attempt at nonchalance fell away. Unfolding his arms, Oliver gazed at Louis with widening eyes. 'I am free to go? he repeated on a rising note of disbelief.
Louis spread his hands. 'As soon as you will. Rise up and walk out of here and no one will stop you.
'Hah, I do not believe that!
'It is the truth, I swear on my soul. Louis crossed himself as he spoke.
Oliver spread his hands too, in a gesture of utter bewilderment. 'But why?
Louis dropped the hand with which he had been signing himself and hesitated. Then he looked at Oliver with avid, bright eyes. 'Catrin, he said.
Colour filled Oliver's face and he felt a warm surge at his core. A vision, not so far from the truth, flashed through his mind, of Catrin riding into Rochester with a determined jut to her chin, letting naught stand in her way. 'She is here? he said eagerly.
Louis nodded. 'Yes, she is here.
Oliver's mind was so filled with the image of Catrin that it took a moment for other considerations to pierce the upsurge of joy. But when they did the cut was deep and sharp — the intimacy with which Louis said 'Catrin', affording no other title as if he knew her well; the woman in the red dress and dark cloak; the heaviness of recent pleasure weighting Louis's eyelids. Like a hammer blow the thought struck
Oliver that Catrin had paid his ransom to this snake with her body.
'If you have touched her, I will kill you! he snarled and shot to his feet, his fists already clenched to strike.
In one nimble move, Louis sprang off the table and put it between them.
'And if you lay a finger on me, you will hang from these battlements until the crows have picked you clean! His glance flashed to the other guards who had started forward, swords hissing from their sheaths. He waved them back to their posts with a terse gesture.
'Sit down, he commanded Oliver. 'This avails us nothing, and there is much you do not know.
With great reluctance and hostility, Oliver subsided on to the bench, but the battle light remained in his eyes and his heartbeat was a heavy drum in his throat.
Louis remained on his feet. He rubbed his palm across his chin and drew out the moment as he gathered his thoughts. At last, when he was ready, he struck without mercy. 'I have every right to 'lay a finger' or whatever else I desire upon Catrin, because she is my wife, he said.
'Your what? Oliver almost gagged.
'Wedded, bedded and sanctioned by the church full six years ago. I have known my Catrin since we were children building mud castles together in the bailey at Chepstow.
'Her husband is dead. The words emerged from Oliver's mouth but he was scarcely aware of speaking them. 'My Catrin'? Christ Jesu, it was not to be borne.
'So she assumed until today, but she knows the truth now. He gave a secretive smile as if at some pleasant memory. 'Of course, I do not blame her for abandoning her «widowhood», but she should have been more patient. I would have returned for her.
'You were the one who «abandoned» her. Oliver's voice was clotted with loathing. If there had been a
