The Lamentable Truth of Planning

Chapter: 3

~~~~~~~~~~

Conversation was slow in coming. Jocelyn seemed determined to be silent this night. Adhemar watched her, trying to think of something that would jolt her into speech.

“I attempted to barter for Christiana for you during negotiations. Your father wouldn’t release her.”

Jocelyn stared at the fire, her fingers buried in her cloak fabric.

Was she pretending to be deaf or was she really that lost in her own thoughts? “At least thank me for the attempt,” he snapped.

Finally, her glance flicked to him. It stayed upon him only seconds before returning to the fire. “I never expected Christiana to come with me, nor would you have attempted such an effort unless it could benefit you in some way.”

“And what benefit do you imagine a plotting maid would be to me? She did confess her part.”

“Of much benefit if you thought you could persuade her to plot for you.”

He didn’t deny the mild-toned accusation. The thought had crossed his mind. However, he’d really bartered for the maid merely as a comfort for Jocelyn. Adhemar had never intended Jocelyn to cut ties with all she’d held dear. Despite Christiana’s role in the Thatcher affair, he’d been willing to allow her in his home for Jocelyn’s sake. With many restrictions on her, of course. He wasn’t daft.

“I thought only of your comfort, Jocelyn.”

She made a choking noise, her features scrunching up. “You dare claim such when my comfort is the farthest thing from me by your actions.” she cried with more emotion than he’d witnessed in days. She shook her head and got to her feet, fleeing into the small tent he’d once more instructed his men to raise. The sounds of her tears rang the camp.

Of his men, only Germaine ventured close. “Would your lady require anything else this evening, my lord?”

Adhemar eyed him in slight disbelief. “Tell me, Germaine, do I look as though I have any idea what Jocelyn requires?”

Germaine froze. “No, my lord.” He flushed. “I mean, yes, my lord. I mean --”

“Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for her comfort and she accuses me of not thinking of her comfort. Does she think I care to raise a tent in the middle of travels when I’d rather spend as little time as possible on the journey home? A tent is more time spent breaking and setting up camp.” Resting his hands on the ground, he leaned back on them. “And if I’m going to camp with a tent and bed, I’m going to damn well sleep in them myself. Fetch the priest.” Germaine had begun to walk away before he reconsidered. It was late and Jocelyn wouldn’t be the best of bedmates in her current state. He was more likely to strangle her than anything else. “Wait. Fetch him at dawn. Jocelyn and I shall wed before we start out for the day.”

Adhemar stayed awake late considering that plan. Yes, he’d wed her and she’d have the entire day to mentally prepare herself. Surely by nightfall she’d be prepared to be his wife?

~~~~~~~~~~

With dawn had come a marriage blessing by the priest in Adhemar’s garrison. The move hadn’t surprised her in the slightest. She’d said what had been expected of her, accepted the Holy kiss, and tried to imagine Will in Adhemar’s place. All day she dreaded nightfall. Adhemar wasn’t going to accept a chaste bed. She was well aware of that. He wasn’t the sort of man to do so.

By the time they were alone in the tent, tension gripped her shoulders and wouldn’t release her. She watched him flip the covers back on her right. A heavy sigh left his lips.

“Did you bleed for him, Jocelyn? Did it mean anything to you?”

Drawing her knees up, she rested her chin upon them, one hand smoothing the fabric of her shift so that there were no folds about her feet. “Does it matter to you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because if you bled, you weren’t given to seduction. It means that you minded your virtue. It means that despite your outward boldness, there was a hint of propriety in you….” Another sigh, his wide shoulders lifting in a shrug. “Yes, wife, I matters to me.”

She stared up at him a moment, then nodded. “Yes. I minded my virtue like a good woman should. I’d not considered that life isn’t always fair. I’d thought Will and I would never be parted. The force of our love would keep us together.” Turning her attention from him, she focused it on the blanket. In a minute she’d close her eyes, keeping them closed until morning. Let Adhemar do his will. She knew what was expected of her. “I won’t fight you,” she told him. “I know my duty. It’s been pounded into me since birth.” Jocelyn couldn’t help the tinge of bitterness to the words, squeezing her eyes shut.

She heard the rustling of cloth and then the bed dipped, his body against hers. “Really. What is your duty?”

“To bear children.” She unwound her arms from her knees and lay back against the soft pillows. “Sons.”

The candle was extinguished and Jocelyn let her mind take her to the place she’d most rather be. With Will.

~~~~~~~~~~

Never in his life had Adhemar had as unsatisfactory a sexual encounter as he’d just experienced with Jocelyn. Or rather on Jocelyn, for his wife was like a corpse beneath him. The only thing keeping him from feeling like he really was desecrating the dead was the slight sound of her tears. She couldn’t quite hide them.

It wasn’t a pleasant experience. The reality of having her was nothing like his imaginings. He lay awake long after she’d succumbed to slumber, unable to banish the uneasy sensation that to continue in this manner with her was to drive the last remnants of the woman he’d been intrigued by away. He was able to pinpoint the exact moment she’d slipped into her own mind and he’d ceased to exist for her.

It was maddening.

Adhemar liked his women to participate even if it was to try to take his eyes out with their nails. As he laid beside her in the bed, he realized that as it stood now, he’d no desire to touch her again. Not if she was going to be lifeless. He wanted her fire, her passion, and her attention.

But I need a son, he told himself.

“Can’t get a son if you can’t stand touching her,” he whispered into the dark.

So what did he do now? Contrary to what many people believed of him, he wasn’t a monster. He did care for Jocelyn in his own way. Sighing, Adhemar rolled over onto his side. Quite a quandary.

~~~~~~~~~~

Robert of Anjou paced the Great Hall of his nephew Adhemar’s home. Adhemar wouldn’t be pleased to find them still in residence though he’d certainly understand once the circumstances were made known. Hopefully.

“Will you sit down, brother? You dizzy me with your pacing.” Adhemar’s mother, Katherine, glanced up from her game of chess. She was beating his wife Anne. Anne was no more pleased about it than usual, a frown pulling down her brow and lips set in a hard line. “Adhemar will be along in his own sweet time.”

“And we must always dance attendance on Adhemar,” Anne murmured, rolling her eyes and quickly moving one piece. Robert could see she’d reached the point of making stupid moves just to have the game over with.

“You’d do well to remember that, girl,” Katherine reminded her in a sharp tone, fingers pouncing on the piece Anne had left open. “Your life depends upon him now, doesn’t it?”

“So you remind us every day he’s been gone.”

Robert ran one hand through his hair. “Anne, Katherine. Enough. We all know how things stand and soon he will as well.”

It was humiliating for him, a grown man, to have to beg his nephew for shelter and food. Unfortunately, Robert knew he was too old to ride the tournament circuit. Doing so and likely losing in a spectacular fashion wouldn’t do Anne or their children any good. So he’d beg. He’d humble himself before Adhemar and hope their plight was understood. Surely even Adhemar would realize how catastrophic a burned manor could be.

Robert paused in his pacing. If he let himself, he could still hear the screams of those who’d been caught by the fire; smell the scent of burning wood and flesh. He could see the line of soldiers on the hill watching his family and the peasants fleeing. He’d not thought they’d actually burn the manor. His refusal to entrench himself in politics was a sore point with some, but Robert had no desire to walk that line. He’d enough politics within the family to deal with and didn’t care that his lands were right on the line between France and Aquitaine. The soldiers hadn’t liked that he’d given the other side shelter and food only nights earlier, despite the fact that he was willing to give them shelter and food as well.

His household had been given a short while to begin to flee, not nearly long enough to pack their treasures. All of his wealth…gone. Well, the land was worth something he supposed, yet all of the portable things, the household goods, the cloth, the furniture…. Burned. He’d braved the soldiers the next day and found his home to be a pile of smoldering ashes still too hot to approach with comfort.

Glancing back over his shoulder, he saw Katherine triumphant and Anne sulking. How she despised being pressed into performing as Katherine’s companion! What could she do though? With Adhemar gone, Katherine overlooked the manor in his stead, causing all sorts of trouble for stewards.

“Anne, why don’t you go find Amelie and remind her Adhemar is arriving soon?”

A spasm of weariness crossed her features as she stood and crossed to him. “You mean, why don’t I mentally prepare myself for seeing him again?” Her voice was soft, her hands stretching out and up to smooth his shirt across his chest.

Exactly. This was not going to be easy.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jocelyn was glad to have their journey completed. Traveling such a distance as they had tired her out. A few times she’d rode in the wagon, but Adhemar had, more often than not, insisted she ride on his horse with him. She was quite ready to rest and ease into life as mistress of his manor. Walking into the hall, she was surprised to hear him mutter an inventive curse.

“Uncle,” he fairly snarled, his hand tightening on her arm so tightly that she gasped and attempted to wrench away. Instead, he eased his grip, hand sliding down to grasp hers and draw her forward to meet those waiting.

The resemblance between Adhemar and his uncle Robert was uncanny. They were of similar height and build, with the same slightly curled dark hair and arrogant demeanor. The only differences readily apparent were their eye color and the fact that Robert smiled far easier than Adhemar did. On closer inspection, Jocelyn noted a sprinkling of silver in Robert’s thick hair.

What on earth was the cause of the tension between the two men? Jocelyn found her curiosity piqued.

Robert smiled, a quick flash of his teeth, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “So this is the beautiful, accomplished Lady Jocelyn. Nephew, you’ve been remiss. You never mentioned you’d captured an angel in human form.”

Despite herself, Jocelyn was charmed. She relaxed.

Adhemar, however, was not relaxed. He spoke through gritted teeth. “Angel, Uncle? More like a devil at times. Have a care, she bites.”

“Does she? You must provoke her, then. Angels can be fearsome creatures, as well as breathtakingly gorgeous.”

Adhemar cleared his throat. “Where is my lady aunt? Here I trust?”

“You mean Anne?”

“Have you taken another wife?”

Robert’s snort reminded Jocelyn greatly of Adhemar’s usual one. “She’s gathering our children. Amelie was determined to wear her prettiest gown to see her favorite cousin.”

Adhemar opened his mouth and Jocelyn waited for whatever cutting thing he’d say. It never materialized. His aunt chose that moment to descend the stairs at the back of the hall with two children in her arms and two running before her.

Jocelyn hadn’t expected his aunt to be close to her in age. Nor had she expected the vision of blonde loveliness that crossed to them.

“Adhemar! Adhemar!” The elder girl launched herself at Adhemar, apparently certain he’d catch her.

He did, scooping her from the air in a smooth movement and hugging her to him, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Amelie!” His features relaxed into a genuine grin, the first Jocelyn could recall ever seeing from him. It made a difference. He seemed younger, more attractive. “I swear you grow taller each moment that passes.”

“You shouldn’t swear,” Amelie informed him. “It’s not proper in front of a lady, you know.”

“Well, I believe you’re right. Where are my manners?”

Who was this man Jocelyn saw beside her? Could it be that sarcastic, arrogant Adhemar liked children? It seemed so. He was gentle with his young cousin, affectionate and kind. That changed however in seconds with the first words his aunt spoke.

“They’re probably out in the stables as usual. You look fit, Adhemar. We were certain you’d bear a limp from that last joust.”

“Anne.” Robert’s voice was sharp, but his wife only smiled a too sweet smile.

“I express relief, husband. He’s recovered in full from that humiliating physical defeat in London.”

Adhemar set Amelie on the ground. When he stood, his gaze was once more cold and hard. “Your concern is noted…Aunt.”

Glancing from face to face, Jocelyn tried to decipher the reason for the animosity between them, but there was nothing obvious. An old grievance probably.

“This is Jocelyn.” His words were directed towards Anne. “As long as you’re in my home, you’ll defer to her.”

“I hope you’ve told Katherine,” Anne said, shifting the two children in her arms and setting the older one down.

“Mother will accept my order.”

“Oh yes, like she always does.” One brow arched.

This didn’t promise an easy settling into her new life. She’d met his overly friendly, yet charming Uncle Robert -- who kept watching her --, his hostile Aunt Anne, and his cousin Amelie who was behaving more like his child than his cousin. Heavens, what was his mother like?

“Dear Jocelyn,” Robert addressed her. “Don’t mind us. We’re rude and ill-mannered to let personal squabbles sour your first moments as mistress in this hall. Anne, put Sophie down so I may introduce you properly. We shame our nephew, behaving in such a manner.”

Anne obeyed instantly, finally actually looking at Jocelyn. Her features softened in seconds, a kind light growing in her eyes. She wasn’t quite as young as she had appeared. There were tiny lines at the corners of her eyes. Jocelyn decided she was likely Adhemar’s age, still a young bride for his uncle.

“Jocelyn, may I present my lady wife Anne and our four children? Piers is our eldest, Amelie the one clutching Adhemar’s leg, Ward and Sophie beside Anne. We’re greatly pleased to put a face to the name mentioned in letters these long months.”

“You’ve been here all that time, Uncle?” Adhemar reached for the clasp on Jocelyn’s cloak, unfastening it and sweeping it from her to hand it to a waiting servant. His displeasure with the idea colored the words and he instructed the children to go play. Amelie was reluctant until he promised to find them later.

Robert and Anne exchanged a glance. “We’ll pay for our keep,” Robert finally stated in a flat tone.

Adhemar’s derisive snort was loud. “Well I should hope so with six of you here.”

“Adhemar,” Jocelyn couldn’t help but exclaim. While she knew many did charge their relatives for visits, it wasn’t proper to mention it this way.

When the children had disappeared from the hall, he replied, “I don’t jest Jocelyn. Family pays bed and board for visits. My father charged more than most families deem acceptable and since the fee isn’t cheap, I assume Uncle and I have business to discuss as to the cause of this extended stay. Anne will show you about the manor and take you to meet my mother.”

When the men had gone, Anne sighed. “Neatly done as always. We’ll see her first. I hope you fare better with her than I ever have. Come Jocelyn, Katherine will be waiting.” Under her breath and barely loud enough to be heard she added, “Like a spider in a web.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“After all the trouble his Venus put him through….”

Kate rubbed the aching spot between her brows. Wat had said those words so many times these past days that she could mouth them word for word. With Roland and Geoff gone and Will on the way up to the convent, she’d been bearing the brunt of Wat’s frustrated rantings. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Christiana, she decided. He liked her fine. The problem was that he thought Will had been ill-used by Jocelyn’s father in the end.

She thought so as well, yet kept that opinion to herself. Jocelyn’s father was the schemer of all schemers, plotting hard to gain an advantage.

“…he ends up with her maid. Nice.” He practically bit off the last word, smacking a tent peg so hard with the hammer that it actually went into the hard ground. They’d been trying to put up the tent since Will had left with little success. The ground resisted their efforts.

“Plans fall apart.”

“Right.” He snorted. “And she broke Roland’s heart--”

It was Kate’s turn to snort. Why on earth had Wat out of all of them assumed Roland loved Christiana? It had been obvious to everyone else that there’d just been a bit of flirtation and romantic play. Nothing serious.

He stood. “Did you just snort at me?”

“Christiana hardly broke his heart.” Kate held out the next peg.

“I beg to differ.” Wat snatched it from her and strode to the other side of the front flap.

“You can beg all you like, you’re still wrong. And,” her brows lifted, “You sound entirely too much like Geoff. ‘Beg to differ’? Hah!”

Pointing a finger at her, he lowered his brows, annoyance playing upon his features. “You take that back, Kate. I’m nothing like that silly scribe.”

She laughed, but it was one with little humor in it. “I will not take it back. Listen to yourself. You sound pretentious.”

“Oh, now who’s using fancy words?”

“I use it to show you how silly you sound, begging to differ and all.”

After a round of curses, the final peg was in the ground. Wat looked up at her from his crouched position by the peg. He looked tired and cold. “Do you think she’ll be a good lady?”

“Who? Christiana?” Kate bent, lifted their bedrolls and carried them into the tent. There was no sense in sleeping outside in the elements when there was a tent available. Besides, it cold and Wat gave off a wonderful amount of body heat.

“Duh,” he said, following her inside and helping to spread out the makeshift beds. “Have you not been listening to me, Kate?”

“I should think she will be. Lady Jocelyn always claimed Christiana was efficient in her duties. She was schooled with her. I’d think she’d be decent. Surely she can’t be worse than some I’ve seen.”

“Don’t utter those words again.” Wat opened one bag and brought out a partial loaf of bread. Part was handed to her. “You say that and it’ll happen. She’ll be horrible.”

They ate their snack in silence and then he looked over at her.

“We could combine our beds….”

Kate stared at him for one breath, then flung a hand out to her side, grasping her bag. “I still have a couple of those apples here somewhere…..” Finding the largest one, she held it out to him with a smile.

Wat’s fingers covered hers on it. She thought his gaze was a bit sad, though it could be the low light filtering in through the still open flap. He took the fruit, held it in one hand. “Do you have to do that every time I suggest anything?”

“Do what?” That wasn’t sadness she realized, her hand grasping the second apple. It was the slow simmering of anger.

“Make that face.”

“What face?” While she could deny it all she liked, Kate knew she had to be showing her unwillingness to have anything resembling a romantic relationship with him.

“The careful one that tells me you think I’ll attack you or something. The one that tells me you think I’m repulsive.”

“I don’t….” Kate ducked her head. He was very angry, fingers tight on the apple. “You’re not repulsive, Wat and I can assure you I don’t think that at all.”

“You do. You make that face. What is it you think I’ll do if you come right out and tell me you’re not interested? I’m a grown man. It’s not like I’ve never been turned down before. I am familiar with unrequited love.”

“I’m sorry, Wat --” She tossed the second apple back into her bag and wondered if she should just sleep out in the cold after all.

“No, I am. I thought we were friends Kate.”

“We are friends.”

“Then can’t a friend offer to be chivalrous to a woman who’s shivering she’s so cold?”

“Chivalrous.” Kate gaped at him.

“You know, to be like Will.”

“What has he to do with what you think I’m thinking about you?”

He sputtered and finally, setting the apple aside, said, “I was trying to be like him and offer to sleep closer to you to keep you warm in the night. You didn’t let me finish, making that face instead and throwing an apple at me like I’m some trained animal who can be distracted with food!”

“You don’t want the apple then?”

“I didn’t say that.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. Kate considered his words. “I accept the offer of warmth -- if it still stands. It’s cold and I’d like to not freeze before morning. It was thoughtful of you to think of that.” Crossing her arms, she swallowed hard. “I don’t mean to make a face. It’s just…I don’t want to deal with any man on such a personal level right now. The last thing I need is a lover.”

“”It does stand.” He took a bite of the apple and when he’d swallowed it added, “I know you’re not interested in anything deeper than friendship, but can I love you anyway, from afar?”

The request startled her and she opened her mouth two times before finding a reply. “Courtly, you mean? Like those silly tales Lady Jocelyn liked?”

Wat nodded.

“I don’t mind if you love me Wat, but I don’t think I can ever return it the same way.”

Her reply seemed to satisfy him, however, for he nodded again. There was silence for several minutes as he polished off the fruit and then, “You still got that other apple?”

Kate handed it over.