CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Mid-October
Ramsbury Castle
Given how wet the spring and summer had been, by the time autumn came, the weather was remarkably dry. The sky was a brilliant blue and a scattering of clouds crossed it, pushed along by a gentle breeze. It was colder now, with the hint of oncoming winter but, for the most part, the weather had been delightful. It was, perhaps, the only delightful aspect of Ramsbury these days.
The army was still away, still battling the king and his band of mercenaries. In the beginning, those at Ramsbury received word from time to time from people passing by, perhaps merchants or noblemen looking for lodging for the night, who spoke of the French fleet that had come ashore in May and how the rebels now held most of southern England.
But that didn’t mean Savernake’s army came home to roost because there was some peace in the south. On the contrary, Savernake’s army, along with de Lohr and de Winter and the rest of them, were pushing the king and his mercenaries out of the country, with battle after battle, now pushing northward to reclaim lands and properties the king and his mercenaries had held. As Dashiell had told Belladonna, there would be no missives forthcoming for fear they would fall into the wrong hands, so any news Ramsbury received was purely by chance.
At first, the lack of information had been torture. Months passed and the absence of news from Dashiell had been devastating for Belladonna and Lily. To combat the anxiety, they kept busy. They tended the puppies, the keep, and the poor. They were the benevolent benefactors of Ramsbury, holding fast to the few tidbits of news they were gleaning from their visitors and rumor.
But as the summer had arrived, a kind of numbness overcame them when it came to the lack of news. They’d learned to live with it. Summer days passed and, finally, more news came by way of a traveling merchant. There was fighting in the Midlands now, with the king bottled up in Newark Castle. The rebels were on the cusp of victory, it seemed, and Belladonna and Lily were comforted. Their men would soon be home.
But devastating news was soon to come their way.
In October, a cart from Amesbury arrived at Ramsbury, delivering the remains of Acacia. She had killed herself, an exhausted and bitter old nun said, and they would not bury her at Amesbury. She had sinned in death, as well as in life, and they wanted nothing to do with her.
The old crone proceeded to inform the sisters that Acacia had been with child and had undoubtedly killed herself over the shame of such a thing. After that, she would say no more. Leaving the casket at the gatehouse, the procession from Amesbury hurried away as fast as they could, leaving nothing but sorrow in their wake.
It had been a shattering revelation for Belladonna and Lily to realize what Acacia had done. A serious quarrel with their sister, one that time and forgiveness should have resolved, was now never to know resolution. Acacia had seen to that. If only she’d been able to reach out to her sisters with her sorrows, if only they had reached out to her to heal the rift… Belladonna and Lily simply couldn’t fathom what the price of their anger had brought them. Acacia was dead.
And then… there was the child.
That was perhaps the most shocking news of all, and the sisters could only assume it was Clayton’s child. But Lily, in particular, was in no position to judge Acacia for what she’d done considering that she, too, carried the child of a man to whom she was not married. Lily wished with all her heart that she could tell Acacia that she forgave her, but there would be no forgiveness now as a quarrel with her would never be mended in this life.
It was something she and Belladonna would now have to live with.
All fights, hatreds, and anger were forgotten on the day Acacia came home. The sisters had wept over the coffin of their beloved sibling even as the sentries at the gatehouse lifted it up and took it over to the chapel where, most recently, their father had been buried. That was where they intended to bury Acacia no matter how she had met her death. Surely God would be forgiving to a woman who clearly felt she had no other option.
Dashiell had left two hundred men behind at Ramsbury to protect and defend it, and he’d left a very old sergeant in charge, a man who had served Edward for nearly his entire reign. Joachim was the old sergeant’s name, and Belladonna and Lily had come to include the old man in their decisions, mostly because he was wise and seemed to think much as their father had.
When it came to Acacia’s burial, they discussed it with him and old Joachim was under the impression that no matter what Acacia had done, her father would want her buried with him. Therefore, a fresh grave was dug in the ground of the chapel of Ramsbury, right next to Edward, and Acacia was laid to rest next to her father. It was the last act of mercy that the sisters could give her.
And that had been their lives for the past seven months. There had been heartache, but there had also been days of normalcy, something that was desperately need. Yet, there were also pressing issues that grew more pressing with time – Lily was not too far from giving birth to her child and, for the past several months, she and Belladonna had discussed the many things she could do so that Clayton would never know of his wife’s condition. Belladonna had told her of Dashiell’s recommendations, and Lily had told her of Bentley’s.
At first, Lily was leaning heavily towards running off to Weymouth to live with Bentley’s spinster aunt. In fact, that had been her plan until Acacia had been brought home in a wooden box. After that, she didn’t seem to have much inclination to leaving, instead, sitting in her chamber and sewing garment after garment for her baby.
Belladonna would sit with her a good deal of the time but whenever she spoke of leaving for Weymouth, Lily didn’t seem too keen on it. Although she wouldn’t discuss her feelings on the matter these days, Belladonna suspected that Lily simply didn’t want to leave her sister or her home. Acacia’s death had done something to her, perhaps forcing her to realize just how precious her love for her family was. Lily and Belladonna had grown closer in the past several months and Lily became very emotional when it came to leaving.
She simply didn’t have the heart to do it.
But time was drawing close and if Lily was to travel to Weymouth, she had to do it soon. She didn’t want to be caught out on the open road having her child. Running out of options, she mentioned to Belladonna that she was considering having the child at Ramsbury and then giving it to the servants to tend. That way, she could be near the child yet still at home, where the people she knew and loved were. Clayton would never know a servant’s infant was his wife’s child, because the man never lowered himself to speak to or even acknowledge the servants.
He would never be the wiser.
In truth, it made perfect sense to Belladonna and she even went so far as to take old Joachim into her confidence to explain the situation, hoping the old man would have some suggestions for her. He did, in the form of recommending his own wife to tend the infant and tell everyone it was their grandchild.
When Lily heard of the plan, she wanted to meet Joachim’s wife, who lived in the village in a tiny cottage and not on the grounds of the castle. She was a beer wife, supplying beer to the taverns in the village, and old Heddy immediately took a liking to Lily, and Lily to her. It seemed like a perfect situation.
It was a plan that brought Lily and Belladonna a great deal of comfort and, nowadays, everyone seemed more at ease than ever before. It made the fact that there had been no recent news of the army’s movement easier to bear and on this mild October day, the sentries at the gatehouse announced the arrival of a lord and his daughter, who had stopped to seek shelter for the night.
Belladonna, who had been feeding the dogs, with several of the grown puppies from the spring litter now to feed, heard the noise from the gatehouse and left the dogs to go to the bailey to greet the visitors.
The pair had quite an entourage of wagons, and ten heavily-armed men, who the Savernake soldiers separate from the caravan. They normally stripped all weapons from visiting soldiers. As the wagons were moved away, leaving the lord and his daughter standing in the middle of the bailey, Belladonna greeted them politely.
“Good afternoon, my lord,” she said. “I am Lady du Reims. May I ask your business?”
The lord dipped his head politely. “Lady du Reims,” he said. “I am Lord Corston and this is my daughter, Clarimund. We are traveling from Reading to Bath and hoped to seek shelter for the night.”
Belladonna nodded. “We would be happy to provide you with shelter,” she said, “but there is a tavern in town that might also prove comfortable.”
Corston shook his head. “I am bringing goods back to Bath and have a good deal to protect,” he said. “It would be difficult to do that in a livery. Is our presence of great inconvenience, my lady?”
Belladonna shook her head. “It is not. Please come with me and I shall take you to the hall to rest while I have a chamber prepared for you.”
Lord Corston grasped his tiny daughter by the elbow as they began to follow Belladonna across the bailey, towards the dark-stoned great hall.
“Truly, travel has been quite easy these days,” he said, simply to make conversation. “The land is peaceful this far south. None of the madness that I hear is happening to the north.”
That drew Belladonna’s attention. Since all of the news they’d had in the past several months had been from passing travelers, she wondered if Lord Corston could tell her anything new.
“It has been peaceful here,” she agreed. “You said you just came from Reading?”
Corston nodded. “We were in London before that, on a purchasing trip. I own a merchant shop in Bath.”
“Would you show me some of your goods before you leave? Mayhap, I should like to purchase something.”
“It would be an honor, Lady du Reims,” he said. “What castle is this, by the way?”
“Ramsbury Castle.”
Corston looked around at the massive walls with very few soldiers about for such a large place. “It seems rather empty,” he said, pointing to the battlements. “Such a large fortress should be heavily defended, I should think.”
Belladonna glanced up to the battlements. “Our army is away.”
“Fighting against the king?”
“Aye.”
Corston’s manner seemed to demure. “It has been an ugly business, to be sure,” he said. “It was all we heard of in London.”
By this time, they had entered the mouth of the hall. It was somewhat dark and cold beyond, with a few servants sweeping the hearth or scrubbing down the tables. Belladonna led her guests to the long feasting table next to the hearth and asked one of the servants to start a fire once the ashes were all swept away. She sent another servant for bread and wine before turning back to Corston.
“It should be warm in a moment,” she said. “What did you hear about the wars? In London, I mean. What were people saying?”
Corston sat heavily, a weary sigh emitting from lips. “Have you not heard about the king, then?”
“Heard what?”
“He is dead.”
Belladonna’s eyes widened. “Nay,” she said, shocked. “We’ve not heard much here, unfortunately. Our army is fighting against the king and the commanders told us they would not send us any word, fearful it would fall into enemy hands. We have had to rely on travelers like you to tell us what is happening. The king is dead, you say? When did this happen?”
Corston nodded. “Last month,” he said. “A sickness of the bowels took him, but it was after a very nasty battle, evidently, one in which he gained victory over the rebel army. But only momentarily. You said your army was fighting against the king?”
“Aye.”
Corston lifted his eyebrows ominously. “From what I heard in London, the battle near Newark Castle was very bad for the rebel cause,” he said. “That is where John died, you know. At Newark. Are you aware that William Marshal and the king’s half-brother, William Longespée, had turned against the king?”
Belladonna really knew nothing about it. Dashiell had never told her of such things and she’d never asked, so all of this was new information.
“I had not heard,” she admitted. “My… my husband never really spoke of the politics of the rebellion. But I do know that William Marshal has always served the king, as did his father. I find that astonishing that he should betray John.”
The wine and bread came, accepted gratefully by Corston and his daughter. Corston took a heavy drink before replying.
“Marshal’s betrayal was short-lived,” he said. “He and Longespée sided with John once again in the end, but their defection was not anticipated by the rebels. When those two turned on the rebel army, it was a slaughter at Newark, so I am told.”
“What do you mean?”
Corston took another long drink of wine, smacking his lips. “The rebels were caught off-guard,” he said. “I met a man in London, who had been at Newark, and he told me that some of the great armies were severely damaged – de Lohr, de Winter, and Lincoln among them. Have you heard of them? Very old and great families. In any case, as these great families are being beaten down by the traitors Marshal and Longespée, another army sacrificed itself so they could pull free. This army put itself between the rebel army and John’s loyalists long enough for the wounded rebel army to escape. It must have been a sight to see.”
A warning bell went off in Belladonna’s mind. She didn’t know why it should, but something told her she didn’t want to know the name of that sacrificial army. It sounded like something a noble commander would do, laying down his life so that others would live. It sounded very much like something Dashiell would do. With the greatest reluctance, she asked the fatal question.
“Who was the martyred army?”
“Savernake, I think.”
Belladonna’s breath caught in her throat. She heard the name – Savernake – but it took her several long moments for the reality to sink in. Then, she began to feel lightheaded.
“Sav… Savernake, you say?” she breathed.
Corston was oblivious to the tone of her voice. He was too busy finishing off his wine. “Aye.”
“How long ago?”
“Mere weeks, so I heard,” he said. “It is a sad story, truly. I’ve heard of the Savernake army; I think every man in England has. A mighty army, I’m told. If what they did was true – and they sacrificed themselves so the rebels had a chance to retreat – then it is a great and noble sacrifice, indeed. But for them to fall to traitors like Marshal and Longespée is an unfitting ending at best.”
Belladonna found herself gripping the table so she wouldn’t fall to the floor; the room was beginning to sway.
Sacrifice…
The word was ringing in her head as if someone had struck a bell. There was an odd buzzing in her ears, reverberating, singing out that terrible word that the merchant had so callously spouted.
Sacrifice…
“And… and you say that you are certain of this?” she asked, her voice oddly hoarse.
Corston was into his bread now, chewing loudly. “As I said, I met a man in London who said he was at Newark when it happened,” he said. “Unless the man was lying. But it is true that John has died and now young Henry is upon the throne. That is cause enough for the rebels to ease their onslaught, only now, they have to contend with the French, who do not wish to leave our shores. If you ask me, the rebels should have never brought them here in the first place.”
The man was rattling on with no idea what damage he was doing. Every word out of his mouth was like a dagger to Belladonna’s heart. The more he spoke, the more injured she became until, finally, she stood up, greatly unsteady on her feet from the news spinning around in her head.
“I… I will see to your chambers,” she said, her voice trembling.
“Thank you, Lady du Reims,” he said as she turned away. “Ramsbury Castle… I have heard this name before, but I cannot place it. May I ask whose residence this is?”
Belladonna came to a halt, heart pounding, panic filling her veins. She stood there, weaving unsteadily. “The residence of the de Vaston family,” she said. Then, she turned to look at him. “The Dukes of Savernake.”
Corston stopped chewing and his eyes widened. “Saver –” He swallowed hard, bolting to his feet when he realized what he had done. “My lady, I did not know. Please forgive me for… God’s Blood, forgive me for being so ignorant. I did not know this was the seat of the Savernake army.”
Belladonna couldn’t help it; her eyes filled with tears. “It is,” she whispered. “The men you speak of… those are my men. My husband.”
Corston was devastated. The man looked positively ill. “Forgive me,” he breathed. “I have not heard how they fared after the battle, only that they saved the retreating army by fighting off John and his mercenaries. Surely… surely some have fared well. Surely the army is still intact for the most part. They have not returned home yet?”
He was trying to undo the damage he had done, but it was too late. Belladonna shook her head, quickly wiping away her tears so this fool of a man wouldn’t see them.
“Nay,” she said. “I will go and see to your chambers now.”
With that, she ran off, running from the hall and leaving Corston and his daughter utterly shattered over what had happened. Corston’s daughter began to weep softly as Corston sat down and poured himself another cup of wine. He drank the entire thing on two gulps.
Meanwhile, Belladonna was struggling not to become hysterical, running for her sister’s chamber in the keep. By the time she entered the tall, dark foyer of the keep and headed up the narrow stairs, she was openly sobbing. She burst into Lily’s chamber and nearly frightened the woman to death.
“Bella!” Lily gasped, pricking herself with her needle because she was so startled. “What is the matter with you?”
Belladonna was trying very hard to catch her breath, trying to bring forth the terrible words that would cause Lily to understand just how awful everything was. Rushing to her sister’s side, she fell to her knees and buried her face in Lily’s swollen lap.
“A-A lord and his daughter are here,” she sobbed. “They-they are seeking shelter for the night. The-the lord said he had just come from London and he heard that the Savernake army sacrificed itself to save men who were being destroyed by the king’s army. He said they are martyrs!”
Lily went pale. “Sweet Mary,” she breathed. “It cannot be true.”
“It is!”
Belladonna was so hysterical that Lily had to grab her by the hair in order to pull the woman up so that she could look at her.
“Bella, stop!”
“They’re dead!”
Lily slapped her sister across the face, hoping to jar her out of her hysteria. The sharp sound coupled with the sting did the trick; Belladonna gasped and her hand flew to her left cheek, already turning red from the force of Lily’s slap. But the wild sobbing stopped as Belladonna realized she’d been out of control. Still, the tears fell as she looked at her sister’s ashen face.
“I am sorry,” Lily murmured. “Bella, you must get control of yourself. Tell me what happened.”
Belladonna swallowed, laboring to think clearly. “The lord told me that John’s army was beating the rebel army because William Marshal and William Longespée had turned on the rebels,” she said, her voice trembling. “He said that some of the rebel armies were being destroyed and that the Savernake army fought off the king’s men so the beaten rebels could retreat.”
Lily looked at her with such horror in her expression that it was like a blow to the gut. “Oh, God… no,” she whispered. “When did this happen?”
“He said only a few weeks ago, at most. He was not for certain.”
As Belladonna dissolved into quiet tears, Lily simply sat there and stared at her. She simply couldn’t accept that Dashiell and Bentley might never be coming home. And what of Clayton?
Was he never to come home, either?
Lily was torn, greatly torn, with all of the feelings stirring within her breast. If Clayton met his death on the field of battle, then he was never returning. God, she felt so wicked for praying that was true, hoping God wouldn’t punish her by taking Bentley away from her, too.
Lily’s mixed feelings ran deep.
But Belladonna’s feelings weren’t mixed at all. She was only thinking of Dashiell, the strong and glorious commander of Savernake’s army. Covering the retreat of his friends, of his cousins, sounded so much like something the man would do. That was why men loved him so much. They knew Dashiell du Reims would always do what was true and right, for everyone. But sometimes, that true and right attitude meant that Dashiell put himself secondary to other men.
Belladonna prayed that this wasn’t one of those times.
“Bella,” Lily said as she tried to wrangle her emotions. “Sit down, sweetheart. We must speak of this and you must be calm.”
Belladonna closed her eyes, tears popping from them. “I do not know if I can be.”
Lily sighed heavily. “You must,” she said. “You married a knight, Bella. You must know that something like this could always happen.”
“But what about Bent?” Belladonna wept. “Do you not fear that he, too, will never return?”
Lily’s composure took a hit, but she held fast. “Of course I do,” she said. “But weeping like a child will not bring him back to me, one way or the other. Do you think Dash would be happy to see you falling to pieces? I do not think so. He would want you to be strong. They would both want us to be strong.”
She was right. Belladonna’s heart was breaking as she realized that Lily was right; she needed to pull herself together. She was shaming Dashiell with her behavior. He would want her to be strong and she was failing at it miserably.
Now, she was ashamed. Dashiell du Reims’ wife should be the strongest woman in all of England, not the weakest.
Do you think Dash would be happy to see you falling to pieces?
Of course, he wouldn’t be. He deserved better.
Taking a deep breath, Belladonna tried very hard to stop her tears. It was the most difficult thing she’d ever had to do in her life, but it was important. She wanted to make Dashiell proud, in everything she did. For him, she would be the strongest woman she could be, even in the face of such terrible news. Wiping the tears from her face, she turned to her sister.
“You are correct, of course,” she said. “Forgive me. It will not happen again.”
Lily watched her youngest sister take a seat, sitting stiffly, trying so hard to be brave. In truth, Lily was only marginally composed herself.
“Now,” she said. “I will speak with this lord myself, but we must remember that what he heard was only rumor. Did he witness any of this first-hand?”
Belladonna shook her head. “Nay. He said he heard it from a man in London who said he witnessed the battle.”
Lily nodded shortly. “But men tell tall tales sometimes. We know that they can create a terrible situation where none existed.”
“That is true.”
“Mayhap it is not as bad as the lord has told you.”
“There is that possibility,” Belladonna said. “Mayhap we should send a couple of the men into the towns in the area and see if they can discover anything about this battle.”
“That is a very good idea. Ask Joachim to select two men to do that.”
“I will,” Belladonna said, feeling better now that they were taking some kind of action to get to the core of the truth. It was certainly better than living with the fear of the unknown. “I will ask him right now.”
Lily smiled encouragingly at her. “Good lass,” she said. Then, she set her sewing aside. “I suppose I should see to the evening meal. We have guests, after all.”
Belladonna reached out, pulling her sister up from her chair. Lily’s belly was quite enormous with Bentley’s child and things like sitting and standing often needed assistance. Belladonna took her sister’s arm as they headed for the chamber door.
“Oh!” Belladonna suddenly remembered. “I forgot to tell you that our visitor is a merchant. He is coming from London with wagons heavy with goods. There may be something we wish to purchase from him.”
Lily looked at her with interest. “Is that so? Then I am very interested to see what he has. Mayhap, he has something my baby can use.”
Belladonna smiled weakly. “That baby has more clothing and blankets than I do.”
Lily simply rolled her eyes, knowing her sister was right but defiant in her stance. Her baby would have the best, and the most, of everything and she didn’t care what others thought. But as they reached the doorway, she came to a stop and faced her sister. They looked at each other, the realization of what might be the course of their future evident on their faces.
“Come what may, you and I will be together, forever,” Lily said softly. “Mayhap our men will come home. But if they do not, then we are united, Bella. Come what may, we hold the Savernake dukedom in our hands. And this child… if it is a boy, he will inherit the dukedom, as my son. Our hope lies in him.”
Belladonna drew strength from her sister. She didn’t want to think of a future without Dashiell. She hated the idea that their life together was over before it had even begun, but what Lily said was true – she’d married a knight, and death was always a possibility. She’d been living in denial all this time, ignoring that potential.
She couldn’t ignore it any longer.
No matter what, she would live her life in a way that would make him proud.
“Come what may,” she agreed softly.
Lily touched her gently on the cheek before the two of them continued down to the great hall where their guests were.