Margaretha was mildly comforted by his declaration but not entirely. Her focus moved to d’Vant. “Dacian, I am displeased,” she said in a tone that all men feared. “You have shared my table many times. I know your mother. Why have you come to arrest my son? He is innocent of the murder of Canterbury. If no one has told you that, then I will.”
Dacian would rather face all the armies in France than the formidable Lady de Nerra. “I have been told, my lady,” he said. “And I am under orders from Henry. I must return Val to him so that Henry, too, may know of his innocence.”
Margaretha glanced up at the sky, now considerably brighter with the sun just peeking over the horizon. “Then let us waste no more time,” she said. “Lead on, Dacian. We will follow.”
“Wait,” Val said, his tone bordering on frustrated. He looked at Dacian. “Please, move the army out. I will join you shortly. It seems that my womenfolk are bordering on rebellion and if I do not stop it, they will threaten everyone.”
Dacian was glad it wasn’t him having to do the duty, especially not against Lady de Nerra. Quickly, he reined his horse around and motioned to the men. “Gladly,” he told Val. “You will hurry, please.”
Val didn’t respond; his gaze was on Vesper and his mother. Margaretha was looking at him quite stubbornly while Vesper was looking at Margaretha, seemingly surprised by her appearance. Val was coming to think that Vesper didn’t know of Margaretha’s plans simply by the expression on her face.
But no matter; he had to end this before it got out of hand. As Tevin, Calum, and finally Kenan were the last men to follow Dacian and the soldiers several feet down the road to wait, Val endeavored to convince his mother and Vesper to return to Selborne.
It wasn’t going to be easy.
“Ladies,” Val said, trying to be very understanding and patient with them because he knew that anything else wouldn’t work. “I admire your bravery more than I can say. I am deeply touched that you are trying to protect me. But I do not require your assistance at this time. I would appreciate it if you would please return to Selborne. That is my wish.”
Margaretha, who was unimpressed by his words, turned to Vesper. “Coming from a man with shackles on his wrists, I take no stock in his assurance,” she said. “Shall we go, my lady? If you will ride on his other side, we shall make an excellent escort, you and I. No one will dare cross us to get to him.”
Vesper nodded eagerly, reining her horse to Val’s other side. When he looked at her, baffled, she slapped the butt of his war horse and the animal bolted forward. “Your mother and I intend to escort you and there is nothing you can do about it so you may as well accept it,” she said as she trotted alongside him. “I am not trying to be disrespectful, Val, but surely you cannot expect us to simply wait for you and pray that Henry forgives you. It would drive me mad to wait and I am sure it would not do your mother any good, either. Do you not understand that we do not want anything to happen to you?”
Val was reining his horse back, slowing it down as Vesper’s slap on the rump had jolted it. “And do you not understand what a fool I will look like with two women as my escort?” he shot back softly. Seeing her face fall, he hastened to apologize. “I am sorry, sweet, I do not mean to be cruel, but you are not helping me. You are making me the laughing stock.”
His words cut her but she would not surrender. “Better a laughing stock than the admired dead,” she said, wounded. “As long as your mother and I ride with you, those men will not dare harm you.”
Val couldn’t believe he was debating this with her. “Why? Because of that dagger?” he asked, pointing out the obvious. “I have already told you that they have swords much bigger than that dagger, Vesper. They will slice through you quite easily. Is that what you want me to see? My future wife slain before my eyes?”
“They will not touch her,” Margaretha said. “I will take out the first man who tries. If you do not believe me, then watch and see. I am not so feeble and old that I cannot swing this sword. Since no man wishes to die by a woman’s hand, it will keep your haters at bay, at least until we reach Winchester.”
Val was on the end of a losing battle. Shaking his head, he grunted unhappily, lifting a hand to wipe at his face because this situation was so unbelievable. “So you are telling me that simply because a man does not want to have the shame of being slain by a woman, that alone will keep me safe?”
“Exactly.”
Val hated to admit it, but there might actually be some truth to that. A man’s pride was funny that way. But he had to try one last time.
“Mother, please,” he begged softly. “Think of your bad heart. Of your health. This trip will be most taxing. Will you not go home?Please?”
Margaretha was facing forward, looking at the waiting army up ahead with the sword still laid across her lap. “I cannot,” she said after a moment. “I have my future grandchildren to protect, and my legacy, so I must see this through regardless of my health. Henry will listen to the evidence presented. If he does not, he will be very sorry.”
Val cocked a disbelieving eyebrow. “Are you actually going to threaten the king if he does not release me?”
Margaretha didn’t look at him. For a moment, she didn’t reply, seemingly lost in thought. “It is said that Rosamunde travels with Henry these days as part of his court,” she said, almost casually. “I know the girl. I met her at Winchester two Christmases past. Do you recall?”
She spoke of Rosamunde Clifford, Henry’s beloved mistress. That talk made Val nervous because Margaretha was a friend of Eleanor of Aquitaine, Henry’s wife. Val’s mother and father had shared a monogamous marriage and, as far as Val knew, his father had never taken a mistress, but any talk of mistresses upset his mother greatly. She felt very strongly that a mistress or concubine was immoral.
“What about Rosamunde, Mother?” he asked suspiciously.
Margaretha looked at him, then, and Val didn’t like what he saw in her expression. In fact, it frightened him. Such black determination there, something unmovable and… wicked. Aye, it was wicked.
“If Henry does not release you of all charges, it would be a shame if the dagger that Vesper holds finds its way between Rosamunde’s ribs,” she said. “It would make one less whore in court.”
It was a cold thing to say, shocking and cruel, but not something out of the realm of possibility when it came to his mother. Now Val understood the blackness to her expression… and he believed every word.
“I have never heard you speak that way,” he said.
“That is because my son has never been threatened before. If Henry is going to condemn you, then I will make sure he pays the price.”
“So you are coming with me to kill Rosamunde?” he asked, incredulous.
