It is the woman who is in love with he who saved me—and showed your son mercy.”
He flicked his gaze to her abdomen, and she feared he guessed it a ruse. Even so, if Guarin was right in believing William hesitated to take Vitalis’s life, no better reason could he have beyond the problem of the reckless one and mercy shown his son.
He waved a hand, and she stepped to the side, hopeful full view of Vitalis was what he wished rather than her absence.
“As well you know, Vitalis, the lady is bold. She provides much to think on, as well she knows. Thus, I come back to what I thought of the leader of the Rebels of the Pale before last we met amid snow-covered mountains. Of all Saxons whose resistance most greatly tested me, you were one of only a few for whom I would have yielded much to bring you to my side. As so worthy an opponent, I believed you had a great deal to offer in return for my grace.”
Nicola longed to nibble her nails to distract her from the impulse to demand the king not speak as if what he thought of Vitalis was in the past and would remain there.
“Lady Hawisa was a challenge,” he said, flicking his gaze to her eldest brother, “but that was overcome since I had power over her—unlike you.”
Did he refer to the Lady of Wulfen’s people? To Guarin who captured her heart just as she captured his? Nicola wondered. Perhaps both.
“You, Vitalis…” William shrugged. “As much as you eluded me, so did your rebels, and when you disbanded them, there seemed naught about which you cared enough to make you see the good of serving my England.” His gaze fell upon Nicola. “Until now that it is possible your son or daughter grows in this Norman lady.”
Another blast of anger against her back, but it was far less felt for the hope William’s last words offered.
“William of Normandy,” Vitalis growled, “I have told you—”
“She has told me different. And you said her word would suffice regarding what passed between you from Ely to Thetford.” He nodded. “Granted, she did not speak all of what transpired, but enough to satisfy your king. For many a man it would not matter he had sown a child on one not his wife, but he who could have put a blade in the back of his greatest enemy but rejected such dishonoring…who could have made use of a foolish prince but planted a seed to grow my second son into the man that eludes him…”
William nodded. “If anything matters to you beyond the ways of a Wulfen-trained warrior, methinks it that your blood nourishes the child Lady Nicola carries—or if she lies, will nourish the child you make with her.”
“She lies,” Vitalis persisted, and as angry as it made Nicola he would drown before taking hold of the driftwood made of her reputation, she loved him all the more.
William crossed his arms over his chest. “Honor is a good thing, but of what use if it costs your life?”
“What use?” Vitalis growled. “This asked by him who flew the papal banner at Hastings to attest to God’s blessing on his honorable quest to set aright England’s corrupt church and, for it, was awarded the throne?”
Le Bâtard stared, then turned a hand around the sword resting atop one thigh, possibly the same hilt gripped the day he claimed this country for his own.
Nicola feared whatever progress made with him was unraveling and he might, indeed, lop off Vitalis’s head here, but he loosed the hilt and shrugged his mouth. “I do not fear God’s judgment.” He returned his attention to Nicola. “You do understand I am considering giving you what you want, Lady?”
On his terms, she thought but did not care. Though tempted to once more set her hands on her abdomen, she kept them at her sides. “I would be grateful, Your Majesty.”
“You also understand it requires Vitalis give me what I want?”
She nodded.
“That if he does not, my judgment against him stands and, for the sake of your family, you shall wed as soon as possible lest you are, indeed, with child.” Gaining another nod, he said, “Despite what you believe, I find Baron Lavonne an acceptable fit for Lady Hawisa’s sister-in-law and do not doubt he could be persuaded to grant you his name.”
Oh, wily William, she silently scorned, I know what you do, and that if it does