“Nay, sir, the Lord de Marnis.” Edmund was triumphant, though Amaury still could not make sense of it.
He set his empty bowl of stew aside. “But the Lord de Marnis has a wife already, in Lady Faydide.”
“But he means to put her aside. She is to go to the convent with Lady Isabella and there to remain forever. The Lord de Marnis intends to wed Lady Marguerite instead.”
Amaury seized upon the only detail of import to him. “Lady Isabella is being sent to a convent? You are certain of this?”
“She will not deny that she willingly wed you, and she confessed that the match was consummated.” Edmund’s smile was sly once more. “If she would not lie to the bishop, then there can be no annulment. And truly, why seek one, as I said to the Lord de Marnis? The lady is unmarriageable. It makes sense to see her dispatched.”
Amaury rose to his feet and heard the anger thrumming in his own voice. “You proposed this solution to the Lord de Marnis?”
“Oh, he had already contrived it, my lord. It is my duty to offer reassurance for notions already conceived by my lord and master.”
“What convent?”
“The Lord de Marnis had yet to decide.”
Edmund lied and Amaury was certain of it. “Why are you here, Edmund?”
The older man smirked. “I wished you to know that the ladies will depart for the convent after the funeral rites are completed on the morrow. And once they are gone, the Lord de Marnis will celebrate his engagement to Marguerite de Haniers. If you wish to save your wife from her fate, you will have to intervene on the morrow.” He smiled at Amaury, clearly pleased with himself. “And you will need my aid, sir, to enter the gates of Marnis.”
“I would wager that you desire something in exchange, Edmund.”
“I would return to your service, my lord, in your father’s memory, and abide at Montvieux once again.”
Doubtless to spy upon events in the holding and report regularly to Marnis. Amaury sipped his wine and weighed the possibilities. He did not believe anyone would open the gates of Marnis to him, given his recent experience, even to pay his respects to the son of the house. He suspected that Edmund had a means of ensuring his entry to the keep.
And was the price so high? Even if Edmund meant to spy upon Montvieux on behalf of the Lord de Marnis, Amaury thought that might be managed. All he had to do was ensure that Edmund had no access to a horse. If he were compelled to walk to Marnis from Montvieux, he could be missed and intercepted long before he arrived at that holding.
Amaury did not have to trust him. If Edmund intended to use him, he had no compunction in accepting what the other man offered.
The sole concern was whether Edmund intended to deliver him to the Lord de Marnis, by whatever his means might be to get Amaury through the gates.
But Isabella’s welfare was at stake. There could be no choice.
“I accept your offer, Edmund,” he said, aware that Roland threw up his hands and turned away. “And I thank you for taking the initiative to make it.”
“You will not regret your choice, my lord,” Edmund gushed, kissing Amaury’s hands in a fawning manner.
In a way, Amaury already did.
But on the morrow, he would see Isabella again – and if Edmund’s aid meant that he could bring her home to Montvieux as his lady wife, Amaury was prepared to accept the terms.
CHAPTER 12
Amaury’s skepticism had redoubled by morning.
He stood in the shadows of the small copse outside the gates of Marnis with Roland, Philip and Edmund. They had been met on the side of the woods furthest from the keep by a man with a wagon. The wagon was loaded with casks of wine, intended, as the man insisted, for the feast to be held at Château Marnis that day. Roland, to Amaury’s relief, appeared to know the man though neither of them said as much aloud. It was no more than a glance from his brother, one made so Edmund could not witness it, that convinced Amaury.
He did not understand it, but it meant this man was trustworthy.
Edmund, on the other hand, was surely not.
“All you have to do, my lord, is hide amidst the casks,” Edmund insisted.
“Hidewithina cask would be my counsel,” said the gruff driver. “They are suspicious at the gates of Marnis.”
Amaury’s doubts grew to epic proportions.
