CHAPTER NINETEEN
The night was deep and still outside of Farringdon House, but inside, it was full of men who were concerned with the turn of events. The latest drama had been the escaped spy trying to strangle the pledge within shouting distance of Farringdon House, and once the unconscious woman had been brought back to the house and put to bed, Christopher had summoned the remaining men in their tight little circle. Much had happened, and much needed to be discussed, and they had little time in which to do it.
Events were happening too quickly.
Gathered in William’s great solar, it was the same group who had been there at daybreak – Gart, the de Lohr brothers, both de Lara brothers, Cullen, Kress, Achilles, Alexander, and Maxton. Bric MacRohan and Dashiell du Reims, who had still been in London, arrived within an hour of the attempted strangling to round out the group.
There was a sense of expectation now, knowing that the situation was quite fluid. Christopher filled Bric and Dashiell in on the information from Andressa’s first visit to tell Maxton of the nuns’ intentions, which was shocking in of itself. That made her second appearance at Farringdon House rather worrisome for all concerned. The first time she’d come, it had been with a great revelation to aid their cause, so this second visit had them somewhat anxious.
Why had she been traveling the streets in darkness?
Was there more evil on the horizon?
It was the exact questions lingering in Maxton’s mind as he stood by the hearth, gazing into the yellow flames. He was reliving Douglas’ death over and over, feeling great satisfaction in the man’s ghastly demise. In truth, there had never been any possibility of a different outcome once Maxton saw the man with his hands wrapped around Andressa’s throat, and although Maxton had been killing men in unsavory ways for a very long time, this specific death had been particularly brutal.
There had been something more behind it than simple duty or simple anger.
As Maxton stood there and stewed, the last person to enter the solar made an appearance. William had just come from an unrelated discussion with his advisors, the retinue of men that formed his inner circle. Oddly enough, they were not involved in these proceedings, mostly because William only wanted to deal with a hand-selected group of men and not a gang of followers. He needed knights for this task, not politicians, which most of his inner circle was.
For this, he needed killers.
“Maxton,” he said as he entered the chamber. “I am informed that our guest has returned again.”
“Aye, my lord.”
“Where is she now?”
“In bed. After we saved her life, she fainted.”
“And she said nothing to you before she collapsed? No hint of why she has come again?”
Maxton shook his head. “She said nothing,” he said. “By the time we got to her, Douglas had thrashed fairly well. She was quite shaken.”
“Did you have my physic look at her?”
“He said she is only sleeping now,” Maxton said. “She suffered no lasting damage in the attack.”
William seemed to look at him rather strangely. Then, he chuckled, though it was an ironic sound. “If she did not, the Scotsman certainly did,” he said. “I saw your handiwork, Maxton. Very brutal. You sliced the man from his throat to his groin, then you dismembered him out on the street for all to see. For the first time, I am starting to see why you are called the Executioner Knight. That was an impressive execution.”
Maxton wasn’t thinking of it in those terms. He simply did what he had to do. In truth, he was still angry, still filled with rage at what he’d seen. What he did to Douglas wasn’t half of what he wanted to do, and he’d only stopped because Alexander had prevented him from doing anything more. Alexander had merely slit the man’s throat; Maxton had chopped him into mincemeat, and quite happily so.
He was unapologetic.
“I sent the pieces back to St. Blitha,” he growled. “Kress and Achilles dumped them right on the street outside of the abbey. Mayhap they will think again before they send spies out into the world.”
“You mean after the girl.”
“Take it as you will.”
William could hear the unrepentant tone. “I would be willing to agree with that,” he said. “But the truth is that until we talk to the pledge, we do not even know if they sent him after her in the first place.”
“Of course they sent him after her,” Maxton said, irritated. “There is little doubt that when Douglas escaped from Farringdon House, he went straight to the sisters at St. Blitha and told them that we are aware of their plans. Where else would the man go?”
“So why was he following your pledge?”
Maxton threw his hands up. “Because he probably saw her leave the abbey,” he said as if it was obvious. “The man was a spy, my lord. He thinks like a spy, meaning he believes everyone in the world is spying, too. You know this; you have been in the politics of England a very long time. You know how men of that vocation think. I am certain he saw Andressa leave and he followed her, thinking that mayhap she was the one who told us of the Holy Father’s plans and St. Blitha’s involvement.”
William nodded faintly; it wasn’t as if he disagreed with Maxton. In fact, Douglas’ grisly death showed William what Maxton was truly capable of and that action, strangely enough, erased much of the doubt William was feeling about the man. Maxton was a man without hesitation when it came to killing, up to and including making a statement from how badly the body was desecrated, and that impressed William. It was beginning to lend credence to what Gart had been telling him all along – that Maxton of Loxbeare was born to kill.
And he was born to prevent the death of a king from assassins who, more than likely, thought just like he did.
“I will agree with you on that point,” he finally said, turning to glance at the roomful of men who were standing around, listening to the conversation. “But I am further concerned that leaving Douglas’ body at St. Blitha will cause the nuns to suspect he was killed on the pledge’s behalf. I am concerned they will know we will do anything to protect our spy and she is not finished there, Maxton. Not until the feast is over and the king is safe. You could very well have jeopardized her by killing Douglas and returning the body to St. Blitha.”
Maxton knew that. “There are a thousand murders running about on the streets of London,” he said, though he didn’t want to admit that William might have a point – the death, and dumping, of Douglas had been made in anger. “Anyone could have killed the man.”
“And put the body on the doorstep of St. Blitha?”
Maxton’s jaw ticked faintly. “There is still no way of knowing who did it, or why.”
William wasn’t going to argue with him because he suspected, deep down, Maxton knew what he’d done. He’d taken a risk. So, he let the subject drop because there was no going back now.
What was done, was done.
“I shall not debate it with you,” he said, “for I have stated my concern. In any case, we should discuss what is to happen the day of the feast so that each man knows his role. Have you given thought to such things, Maxton?”
In fact, Maxton had, though very little. Much like the first time William asked him of his plan where it came to the king’s protection, which had only been that morning, Maxton began to concoct a plan as he went. Shifting his focus away from the dismembered spy, he looked to Sean, the king’s shadow, standing over with his brother by the windows.
“Sean, does the king still plan to hunt tomorrow?” he asked.
Sean nodded. “He does,” he said. “But now that we know it is the nuns of St. Blitha that we should beware of, do you still intend to shadow the king through the forests?”
Maxton looked at William, who lifted his shoulders. “Let us decide that depending on what your pledge says,” he said. “I cannot imagine that the nuns would venture into the woods to kill the king, but we cannot be certain. Make your determination after you speak with her.”
Maxton nodded. “Agreed,” he said, but he returned his attention to Sean. “Then let us speak of the day of the feast. Do you know when the king intends to arrive at St. Blitha?”
Sean stepped forward, closer to Maxton and William. “The feast is to take place at the nooning hour, the traditional time of a hunt,” he said. “John still plans to arrive at that time.”
Maxton thought on that. “How many in the king’s personal guard?”
“Twelve, including me.”
“And these are guards of the body?”
“Aye.”
“What of regular men at arms?”
“He will take a small contingent. At least fifty men because they will block off the streets and surround the abbey, most likely. But that is usual with him. The king is cautious, if nothing else. Something I suppose he learned from a father and brothers who were constantly trying to kill one another.”
Maxton lifted his eyebrows in utter agreement with that statement. “Then it would be a simple matter to add extra men to the contingent of men at arms,” he said. “A few more men would not matter. But we also need to place men inside the abbey; that is the most important factor. But we do not know the layout of the place.”
“I do.”
Everyone turned to see Andressa standing in the door to the solar. She looked a bit ashen, but alert. She was looking straight at Maxton and after the surprise of seeing her washed over him, he couldn’t help but feel his heart lighten at the sight of her. It was an odd sensation, something he’d never experienced before, but a wholly welcome sensation. Something about it brought him contentment like he’d never experienced, this woman he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about. She was well, and she was whole, and that was all he cared about at the moment. Leaving his position by the hearth, he made his way over to her.
“How are you feeling, my lady?” he asked.
She smiled timidly at him as he came near. “A bit tired, but thanks to you, I am unharmed,” she said. “You have my deepest gratitude for coming to my aid.”
Maxton smiled in return, his eyes glimmering warmly at her. “It was my honor,” he said quietly. “Are you sure you feel well enough?”
“I do.”
“Then I am glad we could be of assistance,” he said. Taking her by the arm, he pulled her into the chamber and indicating the men who were now looking at her quite openly as the mysterious pledge came into full view. “Some of these men helped save you as well. May I introduce you?”
Andressa had been around knights and men of rank most of her life, from her many years at Okehampton, and she was not intimidated by them. She nodded politely as Maxton introduced every man… the Earl of Hereford, the Earl of Canterbury, Viscount Winterton, Bric MacRohan, Sean de Lara, Kevin de Lara, Cullen de Nerra, Kress de Rhydian, Achilles de Dere, Alexander de Sherrington, and Gart Forbes.
All great men of the highest order and Andressa politely greeted each man, showing her well-trained manners. She recognized a few of them from earlier in the day, when she’d come the first time, but the rest were new. She was formally introduced, once again, to William Marshal, and he stood up from his chair to greet her.
“My lady,” he said, looking her over closely. “Now that we have formally met, I would like to thank you for the information you have provided to us. I do not know if you realize it, but you have provided key information to a dilemma was have been faced with.”
Andressa nodded. “Sir Maxton told me,” she said. “He said that you knew someone was going to try to assassinate King John.”
“And you have provided us with the answer to that mystery.”
Andressa drew in a deep breath. “But there is more now,” she said, looking between William and Maxton. “That is why I came back. That man who tried to kill me… he is a friend of the Mother Abbess.”
Maxton took her by the shoulders and guided her over to the fire, away from the chill of the room. “He is,” he answered. “It is complicated to explain who he is, but…”
“I know who he is,” she said, interrupting him. “He came from The Lateran Palace to deliver our Holy Father’s command to the Mother Abbess personally. I saw him at St. Blitha the day he brought the message. I told you of seeing him. He is the Scotsman.”
Maxton nodded. “His name is Alasdair Baird Douglas and he can no longer harm you. We saw to that.”
Andressa looked at him with some relief. “Did you lock him away?”
“We killed him. Don’t you remember?”
She really didn’t. Andressa didn’t remember much after the Scotsman grabbed her around the throat. Shaking her head, she looked to the men standing around her. “I am sorry that I do not,” she said. “I remember that he grabbed me… and not much else. But I thank you for saving my life, all of you.”
Christopher was standing the closest to her. As a man with a wife and several children, including two daughters who were verging on womanhood, he knew how to handle a woman. He could see how frightened and exhausted she was, so he had his brother grab a chair and he pulled it up for her, sitting her down next to the fire. He also asked his brother to send a servant for food for the lady, including a warmed drink. As David headed out of the solar, calling for a servant, Christopher smiled politely at Andressa.
“My lady, you have saved us more trial and trouble than you can possibly imagine,” he said. “And it was Maxton who mostly did away with your attacker, so he is the one to thank. We simply cleaned up his mess when he was finished. Now, you said you had more to tell us. Would you please tell us what more there is?”
Andressa found herself looking up at the very big, very blond earl who sported a neatly trimmed beard over his jaw. Behind him, his brother was returning to the group and she could see the family resemblance. They all seemed to be crowding in around her, which made her a little nervous, but she knew they were of no threat. They had saved her life. Therefore, she wanted to be cooperative.
“I know how the nuns are going to kill the king,” she said, looking between Christopher and Maxton at this point. “Sister Petronilla told me how to do it. She stripped leaves from a foxglove plant and told me to crush them and put them into the king’s wine. She also told me to take the root from the dwale plant and mash it, and to put that in as well as juice from the berries. They intend to poison the king and I am in charge of the wine.”
The men looked at each other. “Neat and uncomplicated,” Maxton said as he looked at Christopher over Andressa’s head. “And completely untraceable. The man would be dead before we could do anything about it.”
Christopher nodded. “Indeed,” he said, scratching thoughtfully at his beard. “Quite clever of them. What do you have planned, then?”
Maxton’s attention returned to Andressa. “You said you know the layout of the abbey,” he said. “Can you draw it out for us?”
Andressa nodded eagerly. “I can,” she said. “If you bring me a pen and parchment, I can draw out where this will take place.”
William sent one of his servants on the run for parchment and quill, which he kept in a smaller solar next to his bed chamber. While the man was gone, Andressa went to the hearth, where there was a solid layer of ashes on the stone, and picked up the fire poker. Kneeling down, she began to sketch out the footprint of the abbey.
“The abbey is laid out like so,” she said, sketching out a rudimentary rectangle with a long, oblong shape at one end. “This is the chapel. That is where Communion will take place for the Feast Day. The Bishop of Essex will be conducting the mass.”
She glanced up as she spoke, looking at a host of shaking heads. She continued. “He always performs the mass on Feast Day,” she went on. “That was something that was ordained long ago, long before the command for the king’s death ever came from our Holy Father.”
“Essex,” Maxton grunted as he looked at the others. “The vile beast himself will be giving Communion.”
“He will,” Andressa said as she sketched. “But he does not know of the plot against the king. I am sure the Mother Abbess would not tell him, given he is a confident of the king. He is simply there to give Communion and nothing more.”
A floor plan was beginning to take shape in the ashes, one with chambers and buildings, and the men watched with interest.
“Is the king’s Communion wine poisoned?” Maxton asked.
She nodded. “All of it,” she said. “He will be given the same wine at Communion as he is at the feast. And this… this is where the feast will take place. This is the Mother Abbess’ private solar.”
She was indicating a large room that was next to the chapel. Maxton crouched down beside her, pointing to the drawing.
“So this is the chamber,” he muttered. “Where are the entry points of this complex?”
Andressa pointed. “The main entry to the cloister, the postern gate, and then two doors leading from the church into the dormitories and cloister,” she said. “Once Communion is completed, they will move from the church through one of the two doors into the cloister. My guess is that it will be the door that leads out to the gardens. The Mother Abbess is very proud of her garden and she will want to show it to the king.”
“The garden where the plants grow that will kill him,” William muttered. “She will be parading him past his fate.”
It was the truth. Maxton continued to focus on her map. “Christopher,” he said, indicating the all of the external access points. “We must have men on these entry points. I would suggest putting MacRohan on one of them. The man shouldn’t be in a position where he has to speak with anyone, but we may very well need his sword. I fear that if they hear his Irish accent, they might be suspicious. John wouldn’t have any Irish soldiers.”
Christopher nodded, looking over at Bric, who understood their logic. “Come and look at this map,” he said, having the man move up beside him. “See the main entry? You and du Reims take it. That way, you’re both guarding the main entry and Dash can do any speaking if need be. If there is trouble, the entry has direct access to the Mother Abbess’ solar – and you can come running.”
Both Bric and Dashiell were looking at the map, nodding as they understood their position.
“Someone will have to unlock the entry door from the inside,” Bric said. “I can only imagine it is heavily barred.”
Christopher nodded. “I will make sure someone unlocks it,” he said. “You and Dash make sure it remains unlocked.”
The two young knights nodded, eager and ready to participate in this great plan. They were hungry and talented, eager to gain the experience, eager to serve their king. Once those two were set, Christopher looked at Maxton.
“You realize that David and I cannot join the ranks of John’s men,” he said. “John and I have a long history. The man knows me on sight. Forbes, too – he has seen Gart. We cannot pretend to be part of his guard. We can, however, show up for Communion, as worshippers.”
Maxton saw his point. “Then you should,” he said. “That will put you three inside with the king and fully prepared to defend and protect the man.”
At that point, Sean moved up between Christopher and David. “I will be with the king and his personal guard,” he said, pointing to the layout of the church. “I will take my brother, Cullen, and Alexander with me in the personal guard. We shall stay close to John.”
Maxton nodded. “And that leaves me, Kress, and Achilles to dress as royal men-at-arms,” he said. “We’ll have more freedom to move about if we’re part of the lesser contingent.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
There was some satisfaction to those plans, now knowing what their roles were and what the general plan was. But Maxton wasn’t finished yet. He looked at Andressa.
“You mentioned that the Mother Abbess will have assistance with this assassination,” he said.
She nodded. “Sister Dymphna, Sister Agnes, and Sister Petronilla.”
Maxton sighed. “We will need help identifying them, Andressa. As much as I do not like the thought of you returning to St. Blitha to be part of this operation, the truth is that we need you. You will have to point the assassin nuns out to us so we can watch out for them and arrest them.”
She looked a bit frightened by that, fearful that such an action might give her away to those deadly nuns, but she didn’t say so. She knew that Maxton realized the danger and would not have asked her to do such a thing if it wasn’t absolutely necessary; he’d said himself that he didn’t like the thought of her returning to St. Blitha yet again, and she’d known his reluctance to let her return all along. From the beginning, he’d been trying to keep her from returning, as if she meant something to him. More and more, she was wondering…
… was it possible that the man really did care about her?
“I will do what you need me to do,” she said after a pause. “I will be in the kitchens and also bringing the Communion wine, so I will be moving about with some freedom.”
Maxton could see her nervousness. “We will have men posted all around the complex, as you heard,” he said. “Look at these faces; know them well. You can tell any one of them who the sisters are and they will spread the word. We are all there to help you, Andressa. And we will not let anything happen to you, I swear it.”
That was something of a relief to hear him say that, even though she had already known it. They’d proven it. This task, which could have been so utterly terrifying, was made far easier knowing that these men would protect her at all costs.
“I know,” she said, smiling timidly. “It is just that this… I have never been involved in anything like this. It is quite frightening. How do you do this on a regular basis? You must have nerves of steel.”
That brought laughter from the group. With a grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye, Maxton reached out and clasped her hand.
“It takes practice, believe me,” he said. “You will do fine. Know that we are all there to help you and protect you, so simply complete your duties as normal and everything will work out as it should. In fact, we must discuss what will take place at the feast so we know when to act. What can you tell us about the schedule for the day?”
Andressa knew this; she’d been part of the Feast Day for the past four years. “In the past, the king has arrived later in the morning and the mass begins. The bells will call the faithful to Sext, the midday prayers, and the bishop will perform mass. At the conclusion, he will perform the act of Communion for the worshippers.”
“And the king is to have his own special wine,” Maxton clarified.
She nodded. “Aye,” she said. “Of course, the king would demand his own wine as it is, so this is nothing new. It will be my task to ensure the king receives the poisoned wine, only I will make sure he does not. But the sisters will think otherwise.”
Maxton was still holding on to her hand; he squeezed it. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Then what?”
Andressa was having difficulty focusing on his question because his hand, so big and warm, was holding on to hers. Her heart was beating firmly against her rib cage, thrilled by his touch.
“Then the king, the bishop, and the Mother Abbess will retire to her private solar for the feast,” she said. “It will only be for special guests, this feast. The Mother Abbess has never opened the feast to all those at St. Blitha, so they will dine in her solar.”
“Maxton,” William said; he’d been listening to everything and a thought had just occurred to him. “How do you intend to catch the nuns in the act? As it is, they are guiltless women until you can prove they tried to poison the king. How do you intend to do that?”
It was an excellent question and everyone looked to Maxton for the answer. He glanced up at his friends, seeing their curiosity, before finally looking at William.
“Simple,” he said. “You will be attending this mass, will you not?”
William nodded. “Much like the de Lohr brothers and Gart, the king knows me on sight, also. I will be attending the mass along with them.”
“And I will assume you will be attending the feast.”
“I’ve not been invited, but I’m sure I can find my way to the table.”
Maxton released Andressa’s hand and stood up, facing William. “Then that final step will be up to you,” he said. “It is you who will ask the Mother Abbess to drink from the king’s wine. If she refuses, it will be because she does not want to drink poisoned wine. She will be the only one, along with her cohorts, who know it is poisoned and when she refuses to drink it, you will ask her why. Press her. As far as I am concerned, a refusal is as good as a confession.”
William liked that answer. In the end, he would be the one arresting the king’s assassins and look like a hero. Anything that brought him glory in the end was well received.
“Excellent,” he said. “And Lothar shall know it is I who foiled his plot. Perfect. And you will be nearby to arrest the other nuns?”
“When Andressa points them out, we will move on them as soon as you move on the Mother Abbess.”
“Wait,” Andressa spoke up before they became too excited over the idea that the nuns wouldn’t resist their arrest. “The Mother Abbess has a staff that she carries with her, always. As I told Maxton, it has a blade at the end of it, a very big blade, and she is not afraid to use it. You must treat her as you would treat any other killer – she would show no hesitation in using her blade against you.”
William smiled faintly at her concern. “My lady, I have been a knight longer than both you have been alive,” he said. “I believe I can defend myself against your Mother Abbess. Besides, Sean and Kevin and Cullen will be in the solar with me because they will be accompanying the king. They can assist me in apprehending the Mother Abbess. But where will her minions be?”
Andressa shook her head. “That is something I do not know,” she said honestly. “I will have to locate them and point them out to your men. Last year, they joined the Mother Abbess for the feast, but the year before, they did not. Therefore, I do not know if they plan to join the feast this year.”
William considered that. “Then we must have eyes on them at all times,” he said. “But let me make this clear, young woman – you are to have no involvement in apprehending these women. I am perfectly happy to use you as a spy, but not as a martyr. You will go about your duties as usual, you will help my men identify the nuns involved in this plot, and nothing more. Is that clear?”
Andressa nodded solemnly. “It is, my lord,” she said. “And I am grateful.”
William grinned at her. “You are doing quite enough, and it is we who are grateful,” he said. “In fact, I told Maxton that you would be rewarded when this is all over. Has he told you that?”
Andressa shook her head. “Nay, my lord,” she said, looking to Maxton in surprise. “A reward?”
Maxton could see that she was puzzled by the thought. He ended up crouching down beside her again. “You are helping us save the country,” he said softly. “Without you, we would still be fumbling around in the dark, trying to figure this all out. Don’t you understand? You have made everything possible and you deserve as great a reward as we can give you.”
A reward. Andressa had never even considered such a thing and even now, she simply couldn’t comprehend what he was saying.
“I…I do not even know what I would ask for,” she said. “I do not do this to be rewarded.”
Maxton smiled. “That is why we are eager to reward you,” he said. “You are doing this because it is the right thing to do, not because you will gain something from it. Is there anything you can think of? Anything at all.”
She considered his question very carefully. “Would… would a new pair of shoes be too much?”
William chuckled and Maxton did, too, at her sweet and simple request. “You would not want something more?” he asked. “Say the word and I shall ride to Chalford Hill Castle, remove your aunt, and restore your inheritance. The Marshal shall supply the army and no man, or woman, can stand against it.”
Her eyes widened. “You… you would do that?”
“Aye, I would do that. For what you have done, every man in this room would do that.”
She stared at him a moment longer before tears began to fill her eyes. “It is too much,” she whispered. “That is far too much to ask.”
“Nonsense,” William said firmly. “If that is what you wish, consider it done. When the Mother Abbess has been arrested, you will have seen your last day at that abbey. Won’t she, Maxton?”
Maxton had a smile playing on his lips. “I would say so,” he replied, feeling the least bit self-conscious because he suspected what most in the room were thinking – there was more than simple chivalry involved in his declaration. “The day after the feast, I will muster an army and ride to Gloucester. Your aunt will be arrested for stealing your inheritance and you may assume your rightful place as the heiress to the Culverhay fortune.”
Andressa’s hands flew to her mouth as tears popped from her eyes. She was so grateful that she could hardly express herself.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “It all seems like a dream… I cannot believe you should help me so.”
Maxton’s expression was gentle, something completely out of character for him. But with her… it was easy. “You are unaccustomed to someone being kind to you,” he said. Then, he winked at her. “You had better get used to it.”
Before she could reply, several servants appeared at the solar door bearing food and drink. There was also a servant bearing parchment and quill, and with the situation more or less settled, the knights began to disburse as the food was brought into the chamber and placed upon a table near the hearth. The knights broke into small groups, quiet conversation among them, as Maxton pulled Andressa to her feet and, collecting her chair, took it over to the table so she could sit.
Now, it was just Maxton and Andressa at the table as the others wandered away. The servants had left behind boiled beef, boiled carrots and peas, a soft pottage of cheese and honey, bread, butter, and a steaming pitcher of hot milk with honey and cinnamon in it. Andressa picked up a spoon, her eyes big on everything in front of her, before she delved into the cheese pottage. Once she tasted it, she couldn’t shovel it into her mouth fast enough.
“What do you plan to do once you are back at Chalford Hill?” Maxton asked, reaching over to pull the parchment and quill left on the table in his direction. “It has been four years since you have been there. Surely you have great plans.”
Andressa’s mouth was full of more soft cheese. “I do not know,” she said honestly. “I never thought I would return, so I do not know what I will do.”
“Well,” he said casually as he began to sketch out Andressa’s map in the ashes from memory. “The first thing to do is find someone to help you manage it.”
“Why?”
“Because you are to deliver a child soon. The infant will take much of your time. What will you do with your empire?”
She hadn’t thought of that and a hand moved to her belly, timidly touching it. She spent so much time avoiding touching it, avoiding acknowledging it, that it seemed strange to feel her belly, firm and rounded.
“Everyone will wonder about the father of the child,” she said, swallowing the bite in her mouth. “How can they know the truth? I am sure they all know I have been at St. Blitha for the past four years. They will know that I have not married.”
“Why not?” he asked, concentrating on drawing the chapel exactly the way she had. “Do you really think anyone at Chalford Hill has kept watch on you?”
Andressa thought about that as she pushed the cheese away and moved to the beef. “Probably not,” she conceded. “In truth, I do not know anyone there any longer. I was gone for eight years and when my parents died… I am sure my aunt has brought in her own servants and maids. I am sure I do not know anyone there any longer.”
“Then they would not know that you left St. Blitha, say, a year ago and married,” he said, scratching out the old abbey walls. “They would not know that it was your husband laying siege to Chalford Hill to regain it for you.”
She stopped chewing. “Husband? But I have no husband.”
He looked up from the parchment. “You have me.”
“You are not my husband.”
“I would like to be.”
Andressa almost choked with what was left in her mouth. She had to quickly grab at the cup of hot milk Maxton pushed in her direction and slurp it to push the beef down. When she was finished coughing and sputtering, she looked at him with utter shock.
“Maxton,” she hissed. “Are you mad? Why should you want to marry me?”
He set the quill down, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Because you see me in a way no one else does,” he said quietly. “You have called me kind and generous from the start of our association. You see me through the eyes of someone who does not know of my past, or of the things I’ve done. No one has ever looked at me that way before, Andressa. I never thought to marry, but if I did take a wife, I would want her to look at me the way you do. You only see the good in me and that makes me want to be the best man I can possibly be. If you have such faith in me, then mayhap I should have faith in myself.”
It was, perhaps, the sweetest thing Andressa had ever heard. Not only that, it solved her question of whether or not she was good enough for Maxton, something she’d been wrestling with from nearly the start of their association. But she was still overwhelmed with it all; everything was happening so quickly.
“You are the kindest and most generous man I have ever met,” she murmured. “Oh, Maxton… you cannot know how happy your words make me, but clearly, you are a blind man. Can you not see what I am? I surrendered myself to a man who was not my husband and now I am paying the price. I have been a laundress at an abbey for four years, working my hands until they bleed, eating crusts and berries and anything else I can steal in order to survive. I live like an animal. Are you sure that is the kind of wife you want?”
His smile broke through and he reached out, collecting her cold, slender hand. “If you are willing to see the best in me, then I am willing to see the best in you,” he said. “I told you that you are not the only sinner between us, and as for the rest, you did what you had to do to survive. That tells me that you are stronger than you know. I would be proud to have such a woman by my side.”
“Even though you have only just met me?”
“I do not need days or months or even years to tell me what my heart already knows.”
Andressa stared at him a moment longer before tears of joy pooled in her eyes. “And you are certain of this?”
“More certain than I have ever been.”
She blinked and the tears spilled down her cheeks, which she quickly wiped away. “Then if you are certain, I would be honored,” she whispered. “More honored than you will ever know. But tell me one thing.”
“Anything.”
“You are not offering marriage simply because I am the rightful heiress to a rich fortress, are you?”
He laughed softly, flashing his big, white teeth. “I can promise you that I am not,” he said. “In fact, I would take you with only the clothes on your back. Regaining Chalford Hill for you… it is yours, Andressa. It will always be yours.”
She was enchanted by his smile, his words, feeling such hope and joy swell in her that she could hardly contain it. It seemed surreal, all of it, but in the same breath, nothing had ever seemed so right or so true. It was glory beyond imagination.
It was to be hers.
“And yours,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I will share all that I have with you, for always. But… will you do something for me?”
“All you need do is ask.”
She squeezed his hand again, that big and strong thing, trying to put her thoughts into words. “When I was young at Chalford Hill, and when I was fostering at Okehampton, no one called me Andressa,” she said. “My parents only named me Andressa because they hoped I would be a boy. They wanted to name him Andrew.”
“You are most definitely not a boy.”
She giggled. “Nay,” she agreed. “But because they wanted a boy, they called me Andie from birth. I was always known as Andie until I came to St. Blitha. It reminds me of better days. Days I never thought I’d see again.”
He brought her hand to his lips, kissing it sweetly, and he didn’t care who saw him. “I am happy to call you Andie if it pleases you,” he said. “But know that I think your name is quite beautiful. Like you.”
Andressa’s cheeks flushed a dull red, the most color Maxton had ever seen in them. It gave her such a glow, a hint of the true beauty this woman possessed. He was still holding her hand when she lowered her head and continued eating.
All with one hand.
It was the best moment of his life.