The Shattered Rose Page 0,114

might trust me, my friend."

"I do. I trust you not to break your sworn oath, no matter what the temptation."

Raoul placed his hand on the cross and made the oath, feeling a comfort from it, from the reinforcing of his good intentions. This made him wonder yet again about the wisdom of keeping secrets from Galeran.

Ah, well. He had a night to consider it, since he wouldn't be doing more interesting things.

"I also stopped by the convent," he said, "and spoke to Jehanne. She seems well, though rather strained by it all. That's hardly surprising. You look stretched tight as a bowstring yourself. Everyone is safe for now. Get some sleep."

Galeran laughed and rolled his shoulders. "Yes, nursemaid."

"You may have to fight tomorrow. You need your wits sharp and your body rested."

And, by God, thought Raoul, he could sympathize a little with Jehanne.

Standing by to watch Galeran face death would be harder than facing the ordeal himself.

* * * * * In the convent, the mother superior returned to the cell, armed with her rod.

"What is your foolish cousin up to, Lady Jehanne?"

"I don't know."

"I think you do. You are a wickedly willful woman, and you need to pay for her peril as well as for your sins."

Jehanne turned to kneel, accepting the mother superior's judgment. She had not considered how Aline was to recruit Raoul's help, and thus had put her into danger. She'd do it again, though, to keep Galeran safe.

"May the Lord forgive his wretched sinner."

"Amen."

Jehanne sincerely prayed for forgiveness as the strokes began, applied this time with considerably more vigor. By the fifth stroke, her control broke, and she cried out.

* * * * * Raoul returned to Helswith's house by a circuitous route, making as sure as possible that he wasn't followed. As he went he considered the options.

He'd assessed the convent, and it would be child's play to remove Jehanne from it. Violating a church establishment, however, was not a risk to be taken lightly.

Even if he extracted Jehanne without penalty, he would then have to escort her to Westminster and into the king's presence, thus proclaiming the sinful crime to all. He found it hard to imagine that this would make the king more likely to favor their case.

Underlying, or perhaps overlaying, all these concerns was the thought that he was about to spend the night with Aline, who strained his control to breaking point.

She'd accomplished her mission and contacted him, so she could be returned to the convent. There were two arguments against that. One was that she might be punished. The other was that one of his plans for liberating Jehanne involved returning Aline tomorrow morning.

And, of course, there was the fact that he wanted this night, tormenting though it promised to be.

Just a night to talk.

A night to hold her.

A night to teach her a little more about her wonderful body . . .

He cursed softly. He was already hard.

He gave thanks for his sworn oath to Galeran which made weakness impossible.

In Cheapside, he bought a wineskin, a roasted rabbit, and a loaf of bread.

He was hungry, and he didn't think someone with Aline's rich curves would be a sparse eater.

Dame Helswith let him into the house, which now hummed like a beehive with illicit activities. Laughter, gasps, groans, bumps . . .

Hurrying up to Aline, he berated himself for not finding a better place. But what other place? He was sure the king's men would have checked the inns, and even if he knew other private households well enough to ask for lodging, they would not want to house a fugitive.

No, this was best, but it offended him mightily that his future wife even enter such a place.

He rapped gently on the door, saying, "It's me. Raoul," before entering. He had no desire to be knifed.

Even with the warning, Aline was standing ready, knife grasped competently and held close to her body, ready for a killing thrust.

He grinned with delight. "Ah, Aline, you are a splendid woman."

"Am I? I thought I was a frightened one." And her eyes were still wide with fear.

"It's what people do when they're frightened that really matters." He put his purchases on the table. A rather more substantial one than the rickety assembly of planks in Paul's crude room. He could sit her on this one. . . .

"Do you want to keep the knife?"

She looked at it, then shuddered and tossed it on the table. "No, thank you.

If anyone attacks, you can handle