He ground his teeth in frustration that went far beyond his body's needs.

Those could be satisfied easily enough.

Many of the serving wenches at Kingsclere had made it clear they would welcome the earl's son in their bed. But all of these were a poor subst.i.tute for Aldyth. By the rood, if he could possess her-- His blood ran hot at the thought of it, of being able to come to her and drop this disguise for a few hours in the haven of her arms. But it could not be, as he had explained to Urse this even. He dared not let himself be distracted from his purpose, even to love Aldyth. They could both end up paying too high a price for their pa.s.sion.

It was dawn when Aldyth wakened from the deep sleep into which she had finally fallen. She hadn't missed ma.s.s, had she? She had wanted to be sure to pray for heaven's blessing on her plans! Hurriedly, she jumped out of bed and splashed some ice-cold water onto her face.

Sleep had not come easily to her, either. Her brain could not stop racing thither and yon, imagining the things she would say when--and if--she found Ranulf alone. She must be sweet and winsome, a maiden worthy to be his wife but with womanly wiles enough to compete with and surpa.s.s those of his Norman mistress. She wondered what she looked like, this Vivienne. Was she willowy and fair or pet.i.te and buxom, a lush, midnight-tressed armful? Aldyth, forgetting the pride she had always felt in her shining, thick chestnut hair, felt like a homely sparrow with ugly, drab plumage. Surely she did not have the attributes needed to lure such a man from such a woman! But she must, she must! She would pray, involving the Lord's aid in the campaign.

Even the hot posset offered by the tirewoman had not quickly brought the oblivion she craved, the freedom from the crushing disappointment she felt when she thought of the man Ranulf had become.

Lying awake, she had mentally reviewed the garments she had brought with her and decided which would make the most of her best features, her hair and her eyes. Now she pulled these, a chain se of fine linen dyed with saffron and a bliaut of russet wool with long trailing sleeves, from her iron-bound traveling chest and donned them hurriedly in the chill air. Aldyth combed the tangles from her hair and divided it into two braids. On her head she placed a little couvre-chef or veil, making sure her braids were Pulled forward so they would show. Perhaps she could contrive to make sure the veil came loose if he embraced her? She wished she dared come to him with her hair unbound, but that was a hat lot trick, and one she would leave to Vivienne--until the night she, Aldyth, came to Ranulf in their marriage bed.

Attracted by the noise from the bailey, she gazed out her arrow-loop window at the bustling activity three stories below.

A pair of servants coming from the castle kitchen car- fled platters of browned loaves, whose freshly baked aroma reached her even at her lofty height. A smith shod a restive horse tethered outside his shop, while from the armorer's shed came the dang of metal on steel. In the far corner of the bailey, a bell toiled, calling the castle folk to ma.s.s in the small stone church.

Good! She hadn't missed the service! Full of purpose, she hastened to attend. It was always a treat to hear the melodious Latin chanting of Kingsclere's priest compared to the monotonous droning of the unlettered English priest at Sherborne, but now she had a special need of G.o.d's blessing.

By the time she had descended the winding stone stairway and crossed the bailey, the service had begun, so she dipped in un.o.btrusively at the back.

Her father and her brothers stood closer to the front, but she wanted to be alone with her thoughts awhile longer. Perhaps in this holy place, G.o.d would allow her to understand why this awful change had taken place in RanulL He did not attend the ma.s.s, Aldyth noted without surprise. Naturally one so steeped in sin would not bestir himself to leave a warm bed for the comfort of the sacraments. In fact, he was probably as irreligious as William Rufus was reputed to be.

Ranulf did not appear in the hall to break his fast, either. Aldyth ate her bread and drank the watered wine hurriedly and murmured something vague to her father about spending time with Lady Niehola. Then she left the hall.

Wrapping her cloak about her, she began her search. He wasn't in the tiltyard, nor was he at the armorer's. The falconer, tending Lord tienne's birds in the mews, said he hadn't seen Lord Ranulf. Pulling her cloak more closely about her, she ascended to the wall walk, but no Ranulf prowled the parapets.

Might he have gone late to pray in the chapel? Knowing the likelihood of that was slim, she nevertheless peeked in, but no one knelt in front of the flickering candles on the altar.

Was it possible he was still lying abed, hours after dawn? It wouldn't surprise her if doth was one of his many sins, but she couldn't very well seek him out in his bedchainher--could she?

Nay, what if he was not alone?

An hour later, she had but one place left to search. She had left the stables for last, unable to imagine the elegant Ranulf risking the soiling of his outlandish shoes in such a place.

That was Where he was, however. She found him in a box stall with her brother Wafin, bending over and peering at a gray palfrey's hock.

Warin saw her first.

"Aldyth! Have you come to see my pony? And my puppy? And the barn cat has had kittens-come and see!"

Ranulf was startled to see her, and more startled still when he realized from the distracted way she replied to her younger brother's enthusiastic questions that she had come to find him rather than her brother. He had thought, after last night, that she would have avoided him like a leper. He had been about to ruffle the lad's hair affectionately, for he really liked the young English boy, quite apart from the fact that he was Aldyth's brother. Just in time, however, he remembered his pose. Gesturing exaggeratedly with his hand, he affected a peevish tone.

"Good morrow, Aldyth. I just came out to check my palfrey. Warin, see that you tell the groom there's mud still splattered behind his ear--the horse's that is--I don't care if the man is muddy!"

His tone implied that a spot of mud on his horse was among the worst of tragedies.

"And by the by, the seneschal is looking for you. He sounded disturbed.

What a sour- looking man!" he said, wrinkling his nose.

"Yes, my lord." After eyeing both his sister and Lord Ranulf, Warin excused himself. His retreating footsteps echoed in counterpoint to the steady munching of the horses :. s they enjoyed their morning hay.

Ranulf drank in the sight of Aldyth.

"Good morrow, . dy Aldyth. You look enchanting to these poor eyes! A vision of autumnal loveliness in russet and gold, ma ch.o.r.e." He knew his compliments were fulsome, but he had to keep up the pose.

Latching the stall shut behind him, Ranulf watched as her eyes took in the scarlet cloak fastened on his right shoulder by an elaborate jeweled brooch, then wandered down to his feet. Again this morning he wore shoes with extravagant curled toes; this pair, however, was gold with a tooled design.

"Thank you, my lord," she replied warily at last, "but I daresay I look like a serf compared to your splendor."

Aldyth gestured to the trailing, gold-banded sleeves of his tunic.

"Oh, this?" He made an elegant gesture that took in his entire ensemble.

"His grace the king clothes his pages better,"

he said wryly.

"These are fit to wear out here in the country, but never, never at court."

Her eyes widened and she bit her lip as if trying to think of something to say. He saw her hands, which had been nearly hidden in the long trailing sleeves, dutch each other. "You had something to say, Aldyth? You do not like the cut of my tunic? Or is it my shoes?" he added as her eyes dropped away from his intent gaze.

"Your t-tunic? Your shoes? Nay, my lord, 'tis none of those things."

He came closer.

"What then, Aldyth? Surely 'tis not difficult for one old friend to talk to another? Did you come to tell me I've sunk beneath reproach in your eyes?"

He might as well give her an opening, he reasoned, so she could tell him how he disgusted her and be done with it. "Nay, my lord. I ... I've come to tell you how happy I am to see you again... and..."

"And?"

"And ... forgive me for sounding so ... bold, Ranulf, but I thought you should know... the love I felt for you as a young girl--the love which I believe was mutual--I still feel that love for you, Ranulf."

He stared at her, totally astonished. He had expected her to say anything but this. Had his father--or more likely--his gentle mother--put her up to this? Were they so desperate to redeem their fallen angel of a son that they would use this innocent girl?

Aldyth's eyes were enormous in her suddenly pale, upturned face. She trembled, but she returned his gaze steadfastly.

i "Aldyth, sweetheart... you take me by surprise! I" -- "If you do not still cherish any feelings for me, my lord, I will understand," she interrupted him.

"I ... I just wanted you to know, e-especially after last night."

She was willing to tell him she loved him after he had done everything he knew to destroy her image of him as a hero straight from chivalry? After he had played the debauched courtier and boasted of having a mistress who had given him two b.a.s.t.a.r.ds?

"Weren't you listening last night, sweeting? My father accused me of being everything but a Christian!"

"But I know you, Ranulf," she said, taking a step forward.

"Your garments and your hair may look outlandish to your father, but I know you are a good man, with a kind heart. A man may... do certain things before he is wed, because he is a man, but I believe we would be good together..."

Ah, so that was it! Aldyth was offering herself as the good woman who could save him from himself, who could ransom his soul from the abyss. He would have to disabuse her of that notion, he realized. For her own good, Aldyth must believe it was too late, that he had already fallen over the edge and was far beyond her saving.