“Nay, for if I walked across the world, thou wouldst lie in mine arms, Margot. Never again shalt thou flee from me.”
“Thy strong arms … !” she murmured. “Even as thou didst bear me from Raoul’s palace. Stern, merciless conqueror! Simon, mon maître et mon seigneur!”
It was a long time before they left the pleasaunce, and then they went slowly, Simon’s arm about his lady’s waist, her head resting back against his shoulder, and her hand in his.
“I never thought to be so happy!” she sighed. “I never dreamed that I would bend to your will!”
“I must have loved thee from the moment I set eyes on thee,” Simon answered.
“What! Was it love then, that made thee mar my skin?” she pressed his hand to the scar on her breast.
“I know not. Thou wert a statue made of ice.”
“An Amazon thou didst call me! But oh, thy sword hurt!”
He bent to kiss the scar.
“An Amazon thou wert, who flinched not nor cried out. How could I have treated thee so?”
“Ah, no, I am glad! I said that for as long as the scar remained I would remember thy cruelty, and so I will, and with it mine own attempted treachery. Simon, that shame will never die!”
“My shame is greater, Margot, for I threatened a woman, a child.”
“No child am I, milor’. Just—just an Amazon.”
He laughed down into her pleading eyes.
“That rankles still, my queen. I would not have thee aught but that. I did tell my King that the lady I love is a tigress, beautiful beyond words, swift with her dagger, proud and indomitable to her foes, but with a great heart, and a brave spirit.”
Margaret blushed.
“Nay. I am not so fine. I have failed in all that I meant to do, and only succeeded in one thing. And that I did not mean to do. I stole what men thought was not there to steal. Thy cold heart, monseigneur. I swore to bring an army about your ears, and behold, I was foresworn. I tried to keep my hatred for thee alive, but it withered. See how thou hast humbled me!”
Simon drew her closer.
“One mistake didst thou make, dear heart. Thou didst set thy will against mine, for I had sworn to vanquish and to wed thee.”
“How vain my fight hath been!” she sighed. “In everything was I beaten, till thou hadst me at thy feet. And even then I would not realise, though Jeanne knew, and my Lord Fulk roared at me for a pert, wilful baggage. A silly maid, he called me, and bade me know that Simon of Beauvallet was not one to be worsted by an obstinate woman.”
Simon smiled.
“If my lord hath called thee names, then doth he love thee indeed.”
“Oh, he hath not a good word to say for me, but bellows at me until I tell him that he is wrongly named, and should be the Bull, not the Lion. There is only one Lion.” She drew his hand to her cheek. “Thy King will let thee stay with me? Thou wilt not go forth again?”
“My King hath made me lieutenant of the troops he leaves in Normandy, Margot. Thou wilt never be rid of me again, but when he returns from his campaign I will show him a gentle, docile English wife.”
“Nay, ’tis I who will show him a tamed husband. Thou shalt be Count of Belrémy, and rule my land—thy land now.”
“And when I take thee to England thou shalt be the Lady Baroness of Beauvallet, for all I have is thine.”
They had come now to the castle, and went into the great hall, hand in hand. Geoffrey and Jeanne were there, waiting for Simon to bring his lady in, and Fulk was standing by Alan, one arm flung around his son’s shoulders. He and Jeanne came forward, Jeanne running to her friend, Fulk waving his stick at Simon.
“So there thou art!” he roared. “First it is Geoffrey and his Jeanne, kissing and fondling until I am made sick by the sight of it, and now thee, thou good-for-naught, and Margaret, the graceless lass! Hadst thou no more sense than to thrust thy head into the halter, thou silly lad? Let me get hold on thy hand, I say!” He wrung it vigorously, his little blue eyes twinkling ferociously. “Always thou must conquer! I could weep when I think how none hath ever withstood thee! Small wonder is it that thou art a conceited coxcomb. Margot, thou rogue, come to me!” He embraced her noisily, shaking her to and fro. “What did I tell thee? Did I not say that my lion-cub would master thee? I warrant he will tame thy hot blood, saucy maid!” He rounded on Simon again, smiting him fondly on the shoulder. “Now I do say that if she sticks the dagger into thee, it will be but thy just deserts, lad! We will see what a slip of a girl may do to thee! Oh, thou art well-matched! A pair of fools, by my troth!”
“Shouting and blustering again!” Margaret said severely. “Thy gout will plague thee more than ever, and that will be thy just deserts!”
Fulk laughed delightedly, never so pleased as when Margaret chided him.
“Oh, she will school thee, Simon! Never was there so determined a lass! God’s Body, I never thought to get me a daughter so much after mine own heart!”
Margaret pushed him into a chair, dropping a kiss upon his brow.
“A Bull and a Lion,” she said. “What will my life be betwixt you? What with thy passions and my lord’s obstinacy—oh, Jeanne, am I not beset?”
Simon was kissing Jeanne’s hand, in congratulation on her marriage. She dimpled, looking mischievously into his eyes.
“I shall warn Margot to have none of thee, milor’—I will tell her—oh, terrible things about a husband’s tyranny!”
Geoffrey laid his
