Johanna Lindsey - When Love Awaits

"So I thought. Then will you help me? Sir Evarard will not release the number of men Rolfe insists I have for escort. He seems kindly disposed toward you. Can you persuade him to change his mind? Tell him I will be gone no more than a few hours."

"But if the escort are needed here—"

"They will return here once I am safe inside Pershwick," Leonie assured her.

"Pershwick? But Rolfe will find you there. Can you not leave England instead?"

Leonie sighed disgustedly. "It is not my intention to hide, Amelia. It doesn't matter if Rolfe finds me, for Pershwick will be closed to him."

"Oh." Amelia smiled. This was even better than she had hoped for. For Rolfe's wife to pit her men against him would sever their relationship for good. He would not want her back after such an action. "You may leave Evarard to me," she said graciously.

Evarard allowed Leonie to leave Crewel, however much his sour countenance spoke of his reluctance.

The usually short ride to Pershwick took longer because of the baggage wain carrying Leonie's trunk. And when she arrived it was to find Sir Guibert absent for the day. That was just as well, for he would disapprove, she knew that, and might even try to prevent her. There would be little he could do when he returned to find the deed done and Leonie firmly ensconced in Pershwick.

She herself gave the orders to secure the keep. Her escort might have become suspicious over all the activity, but Leonie kept herself from them and there was nothing they could do when those suspicions were borne out. The major preparations finished, she had them removed from the keep, explaining only that she would not be returning to Crewel, and ordering them to return without her.

Aunt Beatrix was sympathetic. Wilda, on the other hand, showed surprising objections. She was disgusted that Leonie would let Amelia have Rolfe without a fight. Her feelings where Amelia was concerned were quite strong, and she revealed that it was Amelia who had ordered her and Mary whisked out of Crewel. If Amelia could use foul means to get whatever she wanted, why couldn't Leonie show some of her fighting spirit? Leonie simply kept Wilda busy so that she would not have to listen to her.

She could not do the same with Sir Guibert. When he arrived that evening and was told her plans he was furious. He strode into the hall to find her, glowering as he approached.

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" he demanded without even a nod of greeting. "You would make war against your own husband? I cannot—"

"Not war," Leonie interrupted. "I just refuse to abide with him any longer."

"You cannot do that!" Guibert sputtered. "God's mercy, Leonie, he is your lord now. You are bound to him in every way!"

Truth or not, the saying of it grated on her. She would not give in. But she needed Guibert's support, so she did something she had never done before. She burst into tears, gauging the effect it had on the man who had been like a father to her. In between heartrending sobs, she confessed everything to Guibert, sparing nothing, not even that she was carrying her husband's child—his second child.

But the revelations she made about Amelia were not as shocking to him as she had hoped they would be, for she had forgotten that her situation, though painful, was not unique.

"You are not the first woman who has been asked to raise her husband's bastards, Leonie," Guibert scolded gently. In truth, he was shocked at Rolfe's behavior, and he hurt for Leonie, but coddling would do her no good now.

"If it were only that, I could live with it," she said. "But my husband will not send this child's mother away. I have asked him and he refuses.

He flaunts her in my home. He gives her responsibilities that are mine by right. I feel like a second wife!"

"You exaggerate, Leonie."

"I do not! I have told you plainly how it has been. I tried to live with it, Guibert. If—if my feelings were not entangled, perhaps I could. But—"

"You love him?"

"Yes," she said, sobbing in earnest now. "I fought against loving him, I did. I knew it would cause me only pain. And he expects me to continue sharing him with that woman. I cannot do it anymore. It is killing me, Guibert."

Guibert sighed. "I do not see what you hope to accomplish by coming here, Leonie. The man has besieged stronger keeps than this and won them."

"He would not do so here!" Leonie told him. "I am his wife."

Guibert shook his head at her. "You think that will stop him? That is the very reason he will not turn away from our closed gate."

"No, Guibert," she said confidently. "Rolfe has two keeps to secure yet.

He will not take his army away from victory there to come here. He will come himself, yes, but I will tell him plainly how I feel—if I have to shout it from the walls. He will have to accept my decision."

"Does he know of your condition?" Guibert asked shrewdly.

"No," she admitted, glancing at him and then away. "I will not give him that excuse to force me to return to Crewel."

"I pray he will let you go," he said, sighing. "If not"—he shook his head—"God help us."

LEONIE worried over Guibert's misgivings for days to follow, for she had believed that Rolfe would come to Pershwick immediately, but she was quite wrong. Days turned into weeks, and still he did not come. She was as miserable as she had ever been.

After two weeks, Leonie opened Pershwick again, allowing things to take their normal course. She sent back the extra men she had requested from her other keeps, but kept her men-at-arms ready. The stores were full with the recent harvest, so she had no worry there. Time dragged by, taking with it the remains of her good humor. Nearly four weeks had passed since she left Crewel. She was two and a half months into her pregnancy, with a thickened waist her gowns could barely disguise. She was disgusted, having wanted to give Rolfe her ultimatum without bringing their child into the argument.

One unseasonably warm day, she stood on the parapet and watched her husband approach the keep. Four of his knights rode directly behind him. But beyond that was a sight that froze her where she stood.

"Sweetest Mary, he's brought his whole army!"

There seemed to be a thousand men moving toward Pershwick. The army stopped well out of range of Pershwick's weapons. Did that mean Rolfe truly expected a battle?

"I warned you, my lady," her friend and vassal said dolefully.

Leonie tore her eyes away from the horrifying sight below and made no attempt to hide her fear from Sir Guibert.

"I will have the gate opened," he said.

"No," she returned, and his face collapsed into a picture of misery.

"God's mercy, Leonie, what can you be thinking? This is no longer a woman's whim. Your lord is serious!"

"I tell you he will not attack us," she insisted. "He has brought his army only to frighten me."

"You would risk all our lives on an assumption?" he cried.

"Guibert, please," Leonie pleaded. "This is my whole life that will be decided here. Let me at least hear what he has to say. If you give me up to him without even that, he will never believe he must take my feelings into account."

Guibert looked out again at the men. A man did not order a paid army to follow him unless he meant to make use of that army. She was fooling herself. The Black Wolf was prepared to attack.

"You will talk to him yourself?" he asked, and when she said "Yes," he asked hastily, "You will not provoke him?"

Leonie shook her head. "I will be careful, but he must know I am firm.

How else can we come to terms? But I swear, if it does not go well, I will surrender."

"Very well." Guibert sighed heavily. "But remember a man's pride, my lady, and do not push him too far. Pride can make a man do things he doesn't really want to do, for honor's sake."

Rolfe and his knights had ridden to the gatehouse and halted. Rolfe slowly surveyed the manned walls to each side of the gatehouse, the weapons trained on him, the closed gate. Tension crackled in the air.

Rolfe demanded entrance and was refused. Leonie held her breath, waiting for his reaction. How far, indeed, would Rolfe go for honor's sake?

"My lady wife is within?"

"I am here, my lord," Leonie called down to him.

"Lean forward. I cannot see you, madame," he shouted up.

She leaned forward. She could see him fully. He wore full armor, and because he didn't remove his helmet, even his eyes were hidden.

Rolfe moved his destrier so that he and the horse were standing directly beneath her. "You have readied Pershwick for war?"

"Keeps should always be kept in a state of readiness," she said evasively. "I would as well ask you why you have brought your army here."

"Why, to please you, of course," he called. "Isn't war what you want?"

Leonie gasped. "I take precautions, my lord, nothing else."

His voice whipped out fiercely. "Against me!"

"Yes!"

"Why, Leonie?"

The answer was too embarrassing to be shouted down at him, but shout she must.

"My lord, I will abide no more at Crewel with your . . . with Lady Amelia in residence."

"I cannot hear you, Leonie."

She had heardhimplainly enough. Did he mean to shame her?

Leonie steeled herself and leaned farther over the parapet. "I said I will no longer abide at Crewel with Amelia there also!"

"Isthatwhat this is about?" He sounded quite incredulous.

"Yes."

And then the unthinkable happened. Rolfe began to laugh. He removed his helmet and his laughter grew louder and louder. It carried over the walls into the quiet keep.

"Your humor is misplaced, my lord." Her tone was bitter. "I mean what I say."

There was a moment of silence and then, harshly, he said, "Enough, Leonie. Order the gate opened."

"No."

His expression was darkly turbulent. "No? You have heard me say that no one will keep me from my wife. That includes you, wife."

"You also said you would kill anyone who tried. Doesthatinclude me, my lord?"

"No, indeed, Leonie, but if you force me to break down these walls, I doubt there will be many left alive to rebuild Pershwick. Do you want your people dead?"

She gasped. "You would not!"

Rolfe turned toward his knights. "Sir Piers, order the village torched!"

he shouted.

"Rolfe, no!" Leonie called.

Rolfe turned back to Leonie, waiting "You—you may come inside, my lord—alone. And only to talk. Do you agree?"

"Order the gate opened," he said coldly.

Leonie's features marked her defeat. Rolfe had called her bluff. Her advantage was lost and they both knew it. He knew he was safe inside her keep, for he had an army outside.

"Do as he says, Sir Guibert," Leonie said quietly. "I will await him in the hall."

"Do not take it so hard, Leonie," he said gently. "Perhaps he will give you what you want, now that he knows how strongly you feel."

She nodded sadly and left.

Guibert's temper rose as he watched her go. He could not bear seeing her so desolate. He didn't approve of what she had done, but her motives were understandable. Angrily, he went to meet Rolfe d'Ambert.

ROLFE rode into the bailey and dismounted from his large war-horse.

He was furious. He had left Crewel with a light heart, deciding to believe that Leonie loved him. After all, how could she respond to him so passionately if she really loved Montigny? he had chided himself.

The question was as irrelevant now as Alain was dead and buried.

Rolfe hadn't been there to see it, but he had been told about it. In the stupidest action imaginable, the young fool had managed to enter Blythe Keep and incite the besieged occupants to attack Rolfe's small camp outside the keep. He had then led them on to Warling, thinking the occupants under siege there would come out and join the battle. They did not, but it truly would have made no difference if they had. Either Montigny was simpleminded, or he had greatly underestimated the size of Rolfe's army. There was no real battle at all. Montigny had gathered less than a hundred men. They were quickly overcome, and many died, including Alain Montigny.

The occupants of besieged Warling, witnessing the slaughter, quickly came to terms of surrender.