By Arrangement Part 2

"Nay."

The men began walking away. The voices receded.

"It will be worth your while," the first man said.

"There is nothing that you have that I want."

"How do you know if you don't listen?"

"You are a fool to speak to me of this here. I do not deal with fools."

The voices and footsteps continued to grow fainter. Christiana listened until their sound disappeared down the stairway. Lifting her hem, she ran back to her chamber.

She was sitting on her bed in Isabele's anteroom, fretting over whether to approach the King another day, when Morvan came storming into the chamber still furious from his meeting with the King. He stomped around and ranted with dangerous anger. Rarely had she seen him like this, and keeping him from doing something rash became her primary concern. She felt guilty calming and soothing him, since she knew that everything was her fault and he, of course, did not. Morvan laid all of the blame on the King and the merchant.

"This mercer did not even have the decency to speak with me first," Morvan spat out, his black eyes flas.h.i.+ng sparks as he strode around. He was a big man, taller than most, and he filled the s.p.a.ce. "He went directly to the King! The presumptions of those d.a.m.n merchants is ever galling, but this is an outrage."

"Perhaps he didn't know how it is done with us," she said. She needed him calm and rational. If they thought about this together, they might have some ideas.

"It is the same with every degree, sister. Would this man have gone to his mayor to offer for some skinner's daughter?"

"Well, he did it this way, and the King agreed. We are stuck with that part."

"Aye, Edward agreed." He suddenly stopped his furious stride and stared bleakly into the hearth. "This is a bad sign, Christiana. It means that the King has indeed forgotten."

Her heart went out to him. She walked over and embraced him and forgot her own disappointment and problems. She had been so selfishly concerned with her own pride that she hadn't seen the bigger implications of this marriage.

Fleeting, vague memories of another life filtered into her exhausted mind. Memories of Harclow and happiness. Images of war and death. The echo of gnawing hunger and relentless fear during siege. And finally, clearly and distinctly, she had the picture of Morvan, ten years old but tall already, walking bravely through the castle gate to surrender to the enemy. He had fully expected to be killed. Over the years, she came to believe that G.o.d had moved that Scottish lord to spare him so that she herself would not be totally alone.

When they had fled Harclow and gone to young King Edward and told him of Hugh Fitzwaryn's death and the loss of the estate, Edward had blamed himself for not bringing relief fast enough. Their father had been one of his friends and supporters on the Scottish marches, and in front of Morvan and their dying mother Edward had sworn to avenge his friend and return the family lands to them. That had been eleven years ago. For a long while thereafter, Morvan had a.s.sumed that once he earned his spurs the King would fulfill that oath. But he had been a knight for two years now, and it had become clear that Edward planned no aggressive campaigns on the Scottish borders. The army sent there every year was involved in little more than a holding action. All of the King's attention had become focused on France.

And now this. Agreeing to marry her to this merchant was a tacit admission on the King's part that he would never help Morvan reclaim Harclow. The ancient n.o.bility of the Fitzwaryn family would be meaningless in a generation.

No wonder the Percys did not want one of their young men marrying her. But Stephen's love would be stronger than such petty concerns of politics property. And once they were married, she hoped that the Percy family would help Morvan, since he would be tied to their kins.h.i.+p through her. The chance of that had always increased Stephen's appeal. The redemption of their family honor should not rest entirely on Morvan's shoulders. It was her duty to marry a man who would give her brother a good alliance.

Morvan pulled away. "The King said the betrothal is to be Sat.u.r.day. I do not understand the haste."

She could hardly confide to her strict older brother that the haste was to make sure that her lover could not interfere. And maybe also to avert Morvan's anger. If he learned what had happened with Stephen, he would undoubtedly demand satisfaction through a duel. King Edward probably wanted to avoid the trouble with the Percy family that such a challenge would create.

Her attempts at soothing him failed. The storm broke in his expression again. He left as furiously as he had entered. "Do not worry, sister. I will deal with this merchant."

David stood at the door of his shop watching his two young apprentices, Michael and Roger, carry the muslin wrapped silks and furs out to the transport wagon. A long, gaily decorated box on wheels, the wagon held seats for the ladies and had windows piercing its sides. Princess Isabele sat at one of the openings.

The arrival of Lady Idonia and Lady Joan and Princess Isabele today had amused him and awed the apprentices. The ladies ostensibly came to choose cloth for the cotehardie and surcoat that Isabele would wear at Christiana's wedding, but the princess was not his patron. The news of the betrothal had just spread at Westminster, and he knew that in reality Christiana's friends had come to inspect him. They had almost been disappointed, since he hadn't arrived until they were preparing to leave. His business extended far beyond the walls of this shop now, and he left the daily workings of it to Andrew. He smiled at the memory of tiny Lady Idonia throwing her body between Isabele and Sieg when he and the Swede had entered the shop, as if she sought to save the girl from Viking ravishment. The boys handed their packages in to Lady Idonia. They peered into the wagon one last time as it pulled away surrounded by five mounted guards.

They had a lot to peer at, David thought, glancing at the crowd of onlookers that had formed on the lane when the wagon drew up. A princess and the famous Lady Joan, Fair Maid of Kent, cousin to the King. Members of the royal family rarely visited the tradesmen's shops. It was customary to bring goods to them instead.

Christiana had not come, of course. He wondered what ruse she had used to avoid it. He was sending a gift back to her with Idonia, however, a red cloak lined with black fur which the tailor George who worked upstairs had sewn at his bidding. The one that she had worn to his house four nights ago looked to be several years old and a handspan too short. Being the King's ward clearly did not mean that she lived in luxury.

She would probably feel guilty accepting his gift. In that brief time in his solar, he had learned much about her character and she had impressed him favorably. Her beauty had impressed him even more. The memory of those bright eyes and that pale skin had not been far from his mind since her visit. She waited for her lover. How long would she wait?

Unlike most men, he liked women and understood them. He certainly understood the pain Christiana felt. After all, he had lived eighteen years near a similar anguish. Was he fated now to spend the rest of his life in its shadow again? Was that to be the price this time of Fortune's favor? This girl seemed stronger and prouder than that.

He had briefly lost awareness of the street, but its movements and colors reclaimed his attention. He pushed away from the doorjamb. As he turned to enter the building he noticed a man walking up the lane from the Cheap, wearing livery that he recognized. He waited for the man to reach him.

"David de Abyndon?" the messenger asked.

"Aye."

A folded piece of parchment was handed over. David read the note. He had expected this letter. In fact, he had been waiting for the meeting it requested for over ten years. Better to finish it quickly. Betrothal and marriage probably had a way of complicating things like this.

He turned to the messenger. "Tell her I cannot see her this week. Next Tuesday afternoon. She should come to my house."

He entered the shop. Michael and Roger were closing the front shutters, and Andrew came in with cloth from the back room.

"I put the tallies from Lady Idonia and Lady Joan up in the counting room," Andrew said as he settled his burden down.

David clapped a hand on his shoulder. "So. A whole afternoon with the Fair Joan. Your friends will buy you ale for a month to hear your story."

Andrew smiled roguishly. "I was just thinking the same thing. She is very fair. As is Lady Christiana Fitzwaryn. I have seen them together in the city. You might have told us about this betrothal. It was very awkward finding out from them."

The boys stopped and listened. Sieg stood by the door.

"It was just decided."

They all waited silently.

"Let us close and go home. I'll explain all there."

Explain what, though? Not the truth. No one would ever learn that, not even Christiana. He would have to come up with a good story fast.

They were almost ready to leave when the sounds of a horse stopping in the lane came through the shutters. Michael ran over and peered out the door. "A King's knight," he said. "The same one who came looking for you this morning, David."

David knew who this would be. "All of you go back to the house. You too, Sieg. I will take care of this."

The door opened and a tall, dark-haired young man entered. He paused in the threshold and looked around. He wore the King's livery and a long sword hung from his knight's belt. Bright black eyes, so like those others but brittle with a colder light, came to rest on David. The apprentices filed out around the big man, clearly impressed with his size and bearing. Sieg glanced meaningfully at David. David shook his head and Sieg left too.

"I am Christiana's brother Morvan," the knight said when they were finally alone.

"I know who you are."

"Do you? I thought that perhaps you mistakenly thought that she had no kin."

David waited. He would let this brother make his objections. He would not a.s.sume that he knew what they would be, for there was much to object to.

"I thought that we should meet," Sir Morvan said, walking down the pa.s.sageway. "I wanted to see the man who buys a wife like she is some horse."

David thought about the two hours he had spent this morning with one of the King's clerks drawing up the marriage contract. It had been impossible to keep out the terms of the supposed bride price completely, because only Edward and he knew its real purpose. Still, David had tried, and finally negotiated only a reference to its amount involving a complicated formula based on the price of last year's wool exports. Only someone very interested would ever bother to make the calculations. Morvan must have been shown the contract for approval and not missed that particular clause.

"The King insisted on the bride price, as in the old days. I would have been happy to pay nothing."

Morvan studied him. "If she were not my sister, I might find that amusing. You go to a lot of trouble to marry a woman whom you do not know."

"It happens all of the time."

"Aye. If the dowry is satisfactory."

"I have no need of a dowry."

"So I am told. Nor are you much in need of a woman to warm your bed, from what I hear. So why do you pay a fortune for my sister?"

David had to admit that it was a d.a.m.n good question. He realized that he shouldn't underestimate this young man. Morvan had been asking about him, just as David had been asking about Morvan. Perhaps the King's proposed explanation would work. We will put it about that you saw her and wanted her and paid a fortune to have her. Not, he suspected, that a man l.u.s.ting after his sister would appeal much to this young knight.

"I saw her several times and asked about her. The King was receptive to my inquiries."

"So you offered for her just on seeing her?"

"I have these whims sometimes. They almost always work out. As far as the rest, the lack of dowry and the payment, things just developed as they often do in such negotiations." It sounded almost plausible. It had better. He had nothing else to offer.

Morvan considered him. "That would make sense if you were a fool, but I do not think that you are. I think that you are an upstart who seeks to buy status among his people through this marriage, and who sees his children raised above their natural degree through their mother's n.o.bility."

Another plausible explanation. But if Morvan had spoken with the right people, he would know just how wrong it was.

"You are Christiana's brother, and are thus unaware of just how foolish she might make a man who is otherwise not a fool," David said.

A fire flashed in the young man's dark eyes. Nay, he did not like the idea of a man l.u.s.ting after his sister.

"I will not permit this marriage. I will not see Christiana tied to a common tradesman, no matter what his wealth. She is not a brood mare to be purchased to enn.o.ble a b.a.s.t.a.r.d's bloodline. She does not want this either."

David ignored the insults, barely, except to note that Morvan had been checking up on him quite thoroughly. "She and I have already spoken of that. She knows that I will not withdraw. I have no reason to."

"Let me give you a reason, then. Go to the King and say that the lady has a brother who has threatened you with bodily harm unless you withdraw. Explain that you did not antic.i.p.ate that when you made this offer."

"And what of the King's displeasure with you if I say this?"

"If need be, my sword can serve another man."

"And if I don't do this?"

"The threat is not an idle one."

David studied his resolute expression. An intelligent man, and probably an honest one. "Do you know why your sister does not consent to this marriage?"

"That is obvious, isn't it?"

So Morvan did not know about Sir Stephen. She had claimed that he didn't, but he may have discovered it nonetheless and been planning to force things with Percy.

"Is it?"

"She is the daughter of a baron. This marriage is an insult to her."

David fought down a sudden profound irritation. He had long ago become almost immune to such comments, and to the a.s.sumptions of superiority that they revealed. But he had accepted more from this man in the last few minutes than he normally swallowed from anyone. He leaned against the wall and folded his arms and met Morvan's fiery eyes.

"Will you withdraw?"

"I think not."

Morvan looked him up and down. "You wear a dagger. Do you use a sword?"

"Not well."

"Then you had best practice."

"You plan to kill me over this?"

"I cannot stop this betrothal, but I will stop the wedding. A month hence, if you have not left London or annulled the match, we will meet."

Anger seeped into David's head. He almost never lost control anymore, but he was in danger of it now.

"Send word of when and where. I will be there."

He knew that Morvan's own cold fury matched his own. But he also saw the surprise that the threat had been met with anger and not fear.

"We will see if you come," Morvan said with a slow smile. "I think that time will show that you are like most of your breed. Rich in gold but without honor."

"And you are like too many knights these days. Rich in pompous arrogance but without land or value,"

David replied sharply. It was unworthy of him, but he had had enough. Morvan's eyes flashed dangerously. He pivoted on his heel and walked the twenty paces to the door.

"My sister is not for you, merchant. You have a month to undo this."

Something snapped. As Morvan disappeared into the street, David uncoiled himself with a fluid, tense movement. His hand went to his hip, and a long steel dagger flew down the pa.s.sageway, imbedding itself into the doorjamb directly behind the spot where Morvan Fitzwaryn's neck had just been. A blond head moved in the open door's twilight, and Sieg bent into the threshold. He glanced at David and then turned and yanked the still-quivering dagger out of its target. He came down the pa.s.sageway.

"I suppose that it is still early to congratulate you on this marriage."

David took the dagger and sheathed it. The worst of his anger had flown with the knife. "You heard."

"Ja."

"I told you to leave."

"His sword and face told me to stay. I thought that I would have the chance to repay my debt today."

David ignored him and began walking away.

"Do you want us to take care of him? The girl need never know. There be all of these rivers around. A man could fall in."

"Nay."