The Shattered Rose Page 0,124

had no choice about the beatings, but when she sent Aline out to find help, she could have sent her to Galeran to put a stop to it.

She hadn't.

And he'd know why.

This separation from Galeran, spiritual more than physical, was a pain far deeper than her sore back.

She had never realized, when she'd sent him on crusade, just how much she would miss him. With typical carelessness, she'd not considered how he was warp to the weft of her life, part of her every thought and action; how much she depended on him being there ready to discuss, argue, advise, object, comfort.

She'd felt almost half alive all the time he'd been gone, despite Gallot and the comfort of Aline's presence. Perhaps, she thought for the first time, her seduction of Raymond had not been out of grief and anger alone, but out of a loneliness made absolute by the loss of her child.

That loss brought tears to her eyes. Or perhaps they came from the loneliness, which still lingered because her sin stood between her and Galeran. And now her actions might make it worse.

Sweet Mary, but angry or not, she needed him here beside her ...

Someone entered.

Jehanne turned her head sharply enough to hurt, but it wasn't Galeran. It wasn't anyone she knew. A monk.

He nodded. "I am Brother Christopher, my lady. I have a salve for your injuries, if you will permit. . ."

Jehanne nodded, and Aline came over to help uncover her back by the simple means of slitting the tunic neck to hem.

Jehanne heard Aline gasp, and wondered just how bad it was. "Is the skin broken?" she asked.

"Nay, Lady," said the monk, spreading the cloth a little wider, ""four clothes protected you from that. The damage is mostly bruising and swelling. Very painful, I'm sure, but it should cause no scars, and the risk of infection is small."

He began to spread something cool on her back. His first touch was painful, but soon the soothing effect took over. Jehanne sighed and relaxed.

Vaguely, she remembered that Aline had been out all night, perhaps with Raoul, and that this should concern her. That the hearing was taking place close by and she should, perhaps, think about forcing her way in after all.

But her tormented mind had eased and refused to tangle itself again.

She slept.

* * * * * Galeran had left early for Westminster, despite the fact that Raoul had not returned with further word of Aline. Despite the fact that the messenger he'd sent to Waltham to keep his father informed had not returned either.

He'd been driven. Driven by his concern about Jehanne and Donata. Driven by his hunger to be home again with all these things settled.

Driven, he knew, into leaving foolishly early as if that would have things settled sooner.

He did have some purpose, however. He hoped to have a word with the king's champion, FitzRoger. Galeran's travels had taught him that great men were temperamental and often let their foibles interfere with justice.

Henry had enjoyed many liaisons, and acknowledged a number of bastards.

How would that affect his view of Galeran's affairs? A talk with FitzRoger might tell him something useful.

FitzRoger was not in Westminster, however, so Galeran was left to pace a small room, waiting for the hour of the hearing.

Surely Henry's personal tastes would mean he thought little of adultery.

That would lessen Jehanne's danger. Galeran was determined she come out of this without being punished in any way.

On the other hand, as Aline had pointed out, Henry had promised to restore law and order in England. Adultery and bastards were an offense to all men.

But surely, Galeran thought, circling the room as his mind was circling the problems, whatever the king's attitude to the law, he could not support the absurdity of taking a baby from its mother's breast and giving it to an unwed man to raise.

No, of course he couldn't.

Unless he was afraid to offend the Church. Flambard was a bishop, an eminent representative of the Church, no matter how little he deserved that honor.

Galeran knew, with bitter certainty, that Henry Beauclerk would do nothing that might jeopardize his long-sought prize, his hold on the Crown of England.

He turned and circled the other way. Were Lowick and Flambard already here? Were they together nearby, making plans? What plans? Galeran didn't see what new twist they could come up with, but he'd never underestimate the cunning of a man like Ranulph Flambard. And Flambard's ambitions could entangle the whole of Galeran's