"I expect he will." Robin tossed back his wine, finishing it. He stood to his feet and looked solemnly

down at Bella. The expression on his face reverted back to kind; Chandos sobriety. "I expect that by the time he is full grown, Geoffrey will be the very image of his real father. What will you do then, Maman?"

Bella blinked. "What are you saying, Robin?"

His brows flattened. He resisted the urge to shrug his shoulders and Bella saw the tension in him. So

much for the shared comradarie. His sharp gaze was full of wariness and warning.

"Say what you mean, Robin," Bella commanded.

His eyes swept down her casual dishabille, noting the bare arms and bared knee protruding from her swaddling of wool. "I mean that the time has come for Geoffrey to be fostered. He looks more like

James Graham with every pa.s.sing day. And he suspects the truth, Maman. It will destroy him when he wakes up some morning and realizes father is not truly his father. It would destroy me were I in Geoffrey's place."

"That's utter Nonsense," Bella countered. James Graham Geoffrey's father? Impossible! She didn't dare exclaim those words outloud least Geoffrey wake and overhear them. "You have no right to say such a thing."

"You forget, madame. I was there. I know the truth."

"Do you?" Bella laughed. "How old were you, seven, eight? Humph! You think at six and ten you know everything?"

Outraged, but containing it well, Bella reached for the wine bottle and filled her cup to the rim. "Geoffrey takes after me, is all. He's a St. Pierre."

"Mother, please," Robin said with a belly full of disgust. "That might work on a stranger, but I was present when Geoffrey was born. He came on the coldest day of winter, not the hottest day of summer as you told Papa when he returned from Jerusalem."

Bella's jaw worked up and down wordlessly. Robin was the second person to tell her those facts, but she wasn't going to admit that to him. She brought the filled cup to her mouth and drank deeply. The wine was already surging in her bloodstream, making her brain swim. d.a.m.n Lady Isabel!

How could she possibly deal with this? She sipped the wine, seeking a solution that wouldn't come from potent alcohol.

"I have to stand watch," Robin dragged on his boots, then turned to leave.

"Robin." Bella delayed him.

"What is it?" he asked.

Bella moistened her lips. "I am going to forget we had this conversation, comprende vous? I want you to give me your word that you will never mention this subject again. Not to me, not to your father, not to Geoffrey, ever."

"Why should I?" he asked. "Do you ask me to be a hypocrite?"

"No. I beg you to consider the love your brother has for you. He idolizes you as much as he does both Sir John and James Graham. He takes nothing from you. You are the first born, your father's heir. Geoffrey will always love and serve and honor you. That much is evident in his character now. I beg you not to hold a mother's sins against an innocent child."

Robin stared at her long and hard, his dark eyes hard and solemn. Then all at once he pulled himself together and bowed very formally to her, his arm crossed over his body, gripping the gold embossed handle of his sword.

"As you wish, ma mere. I am astounded by your honesty and never thought to see the day that you would put my brother's best interests ahead of your own whims and pleasures. You have my word of honor that the subject will never rise again from my lips. Good night, Maman. Sleep well."

He turned and strode away from the camp, taking his post somewhere far away in the woods where he could see to the safety of those sleeping.

Sleep for Bella became something she wasn't likely to obtain very soon at all. She felt as if a great burden had been laid on her shoulders. Could it possibly be true? Had Lady Isabel lain with James Graham and conceived this son that was so like her own Iain it made chills rise on Bella's back. How much of Iain's looks were St. Pierre or Wynford?

How much of Geoffrey's were Saint Pierre or Graham or Chandos?

The boy turned over in his sleep and his precious features faced her. She loved him all the more. His existence was a gift to her. Her existence here in this plane was a treasure G.o.d had bestowed upon her. She wanted so much to love each of Sir John's sons and think of them as if they were her own. But they weren't. They were Isabel's sons. She resented the burden of that woman's sins resting on her shoulders and could only thank the heavens that when her judgement day came, G.o.d would be judging her for herself, not for somebody else.

It was not until she came to the dregs of the wine that Bella's dark turn of thoughts brightened at all. Then she remembered that Sir John knew the truth. He had all but conceded that she was not the same woman as the one he had first married. He'd even come round so far as to harp at her to forget her past and accept only their future together.

Bella gulped down the last swallow of wine, muzzy headed, but smiling. She hugged her arms around herself and grinned.

The whole world thought Isabel Saint Pierre Chandos was a heartless b.i.t.c.h! Spoiled and good for nothing, was she?

Time had come, Bella decided, for her to stretch her own wings...her real wings. She could do anything, make all things possible. Each of these wonderful sons were here for her to love.

Most important was Sir John. His love was the greatest jewel she'd ever been handed into her hands. In time they would all realize, Bella Chandos was a woman of courage, decision and fort.i.tude. A woman who knew what was right and what was wrong. By the time she woke up, Sir John would be back. That contented her.

Very satisfied with that thought, Bella bedded down beside Geoffrey and promptly went to sleep. The hooting owls didn't bother her. The buzzing mosquitos never lighted and Guilamu's raccous snores never penetrated her coc.o.o.n of newfound security.

John de Chandos knew the truth. What he thought of Bella was all that truly mattered.

"Here's a new day. O pendulum move slowly!"

HAROLD MUNRO.

-35.

They rode into Calais as a family, drawing absolutely no interest from any casual observer. It was noon, Bella judged by the sun, Wednesday, August 30th. A bank of heavy, scudding clouds edged the north sky. Rain felt eminent.

Bella's heavy skirts fluttered about her boots, lifting and ruffling in the gusty wind. Sir John cast a stern look Bella's way outside Comte Eustace's palace and said only one thing, "Best you hope Henri is here."

"I have faith in Clair O'Donnell," Bella answered.

Guilamu rang the bell that alerted the steward that there were visitors at the gate. Moments later the wide doors were flung open and all five travelers trotted into the outer courtyard.

Henri jumped up from his toys and shouted, running down the steps excitedly. On the bal.u.s.trade, Comte Eustace got to his feet. He was down the steps before Bella dismounted, his arms wide open to greet his grandsons. He clapped Robin on his back and crowed over his height and the newly gained width of his shoulders. He rumpled Geoffrey's hair and kissed him. He pumped Chandos' hand solemnly and turned to Bella last, his face stern and full of displeasure.

She rather stiffly accepted his embrace and kept her face downturned for the scold that followed. "I have been beside myself, Isabella, worrying for you! And here you crop up in your husband's company. Do you have any idea how I have worried and been in fear of your safety? How could you take off like that...without any word to me of what you planned to do? Daughter, I could beat you."

"I'm sorry, Papa," Bella said lamely. What else could she say? "I certainly didn't mean for you to worry. If it helps at all, I a.s.sure you I did not plan to be gone so long originally."

"Humph!" Comte Saint Pierre grunted. "If you think that satisfies me, you are wrong. The stable boy at Jean de Vienne's told me you'd paid him for the horse and that you were going to go fetch Geoffrey. And I had Clair and Mangus here to tell me the truth as well. I've been sick, just sick over this."

Chandos said, "In that we are in full agreement, mon Pere."

"Chandos, I beg you, keep a better eye on my daughter.

You are not stern enough with her by half. She hasn't the sense G.o.d gave sparrows when it comes to exercising good judgment."

Chandos and his three stairstep sons remained curiously mute while Lady Isabel's father wound into a terrible scold. It wasn't easy to remain silent in her own defense, but Bella managed it. In the end, the elder threw up his hands and urged them indoors out of the bl.u.s.tery weather.

Henri tugged on Bella's hand. "I knew you'd come back for me, Maman. But Grandpere was very afraid something terrible had happened to you."

Bella stopped in the entry foyer to bend down and hug Henri, kissing both his rosy cheeks. "Never doubt me, my son," she whispered to him. His eyes brightened at once.

As she straightened, Bella lifted Henri in her arms, cherishing the feel of his little body once more. Sir John cast her another of those unfathomable looks, this one saying very clearly that she was lucky the boy was with his grandfather, not a captive of a pirate. Bella deliberately ignored him and followed Saint Pierre into the house.

She let the menfolk do the talking, which all in all was very stiff. Sir John made no bones about the ease with which his king had engineered a swift and stunning defeat of the largest army any king of France had ever raised.

Saint Pierre edged in and out of the questions that remained unasked...what were King Edward's intentions now? Would the English army go home and leave Flanders in peace?

Over luncheon the dialogue continued. The pace increased when Jeanne Vienne arrived with other aldermen of the city. There was grave concern for Calais' safety, understandable in light of the pirates they harbored in their city.

Chandos committed to nothing. Bella excused herself, telling Saint Pierre she had to pack her and Henri's things.

"You are not leaving?" he said stricken-faced.

Bella wisely deferred the question to Chandos.

"Yes, mon Pere, I a.s.sure you, she is," Sir John answered unequivocally. Comte Eustace looked crestfallen, then with typical Gallic elan, shrugged his shoulders and accepted his son-in-law's decision.

Henri tagged along after Bella. In the privacy of her room, she dropped to her knees and hugged him tightly, then asked if he would run next door and tell Clair O'Donnell she was home. Bella wanted to speak with her friend before Chandos hustled her out of town.

It wasn't long before Clair appeared and her first words were as scolding as Saint Pierre's had been. "And here ye be, then? Safe and whole, sound as the day you left. Do ya have any idea, Bella Chandos, what a fright you gave us all? Why, Comte Eustace has been beside himself. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"Not you too, Clair," Bella said.

"Sure and why not me, too, hiney? Yer daft, woman, daft. Let me look at you." Clair hugged her then held Bella at arms length. "You look wonderful. Not at all what I expected for being captured by the English."

Bella laughed. "Surely you mean, captured by my husband, don't you? Clair, I'm fine. Have you time to talk? I haven't much time left."

"Why?" Clair paused to look around the bedchamber and saw the open trunks and stacks of clothing Bella had been sorting. "Ach, yer goin' home then. Is that yer man down below, scowling at Comte Eustace? The one with the black hair and the eyes as flinty as the stones of Finn's walkway?"

"Probably," Bella grinned, her pride showing.

"Ooh, my, then! Don't he and the Comte come close t' blows. Why, I've never seen the like. They both must love you fiercely t' be so possessive. Henri missed ye terribly."

"Clair." Bella raised her hand to stop her friend's aimless chattering. "Listen to me. You know that talk we had before I left...about contingencies?"

"Aye." Clair grew solemn.

"Well, it's time for Mangus to act. You and the girls must leave Calais. No later than Sat.u.r.day. By Sunday the English will be here. I don't want to frighten you, but... do you understand what I'm saying, Clair?"

All the color drained from Clair's face except for the bright red spots on the crest of her cheeks. "Ya don't mean it?"

"Yes, I do. Please, don't panic, Clair. There's plenty of time for you and Mangus to leave safely. I just want you to know what's coming. I care about you and the girls. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you."

"Bella, I canna leave. Mangus is gone t' Antwerp, trading. He won't be back for a week."

Bella groaned. "That's not good. Not good at all. Can you take another ship?"

"I don't see how and how would I explain that t' my husband? I can't just run out on him. Why, I'd be terrified t' cross the Channel with anyone at the helm but Mangus."

"You could come home with me, now. Chandos is putting me on a ship this evening. I could talk the captain into taking you. You and the girls are welcome at Chandos Enceinte. You could leave word for Mangus. He'll come for you."

"Aye, he'd come for me, but would he live t' take us away. The English have a bounty on his head, you know."

"I could ask the queen to give him a pardon. She's a friend. Oh, Clair, it would be worth it to try."

Clair shook her head. She felt and understood Bella's urgency, but at the risk of losing her husband, she couldn't take the woman's offer. "No, I canna do it. We're safe here. We have t' be. The mayor says the English willna harm us. Calais is too strong."

Bella saw that it would do no good to say more. She hugged Clair again and patted her. "Well, just so you'll know what's coming. Store up your kitchen, Clair and be prepared for a long siege. And if you need my help, you and Mangus know where to find me. I'll speak to Chandos. Send word to him if you need help. I swear he'll do everything he can to help you."

Uncertain and fearing the future, Clair stopped and laid her hands on her enlarged belly, feeling the child growing there move restlessly. She grimaced then looked up at Bella. "If I could, I'd send Moira with you."

"I'll take her if you want me to," Bella said. "And I'll love her just as well as you did Henri."

"Sure and I know you would, sweetie. You would. But I could never part with a one of me bairns, not across the sea. We'll make do. Will your father be going?"

"No," Bella shook her head. There was no sense asking Eustace to leave. He wouldn't. His heart was here in this city, for better or for worse. Bella returned to the work at hand, packing all the new and fancy clothes.

Clair stayed a while longer, asking about Bella's adventure, laughing at the way Bella turned it all into a joke at her expense. They parted friends, knowing that no matter what the future brought, they could count on one another's aid. That, Bella reflected, was what friendship was all about.

After Clair had gone, Bella felt the awesome futility of failure. She might as well be Chicken Little, running about crying that the sky was falling for all that anyone paid any attention to her. Her crust of sheer bravado that had fueled her through the past four days crumbled. What good did it do to know the future if she couldn't do anything at all about changing it? Not even for one family? Surely, in the scheme of things, the fate of one Irish woman and her daughters couldn't possibly affect the outcome of history.

Disheartened, she closed the last trunk and sat on it silently weeping, and uselessly wiping the sheen of tears from her eyes.

That was the way Chandos found her. He paused on the threshold of the French doors off the balcony, hesitant to step inside the sun filled chamber. Bella sat very still, only her bent head and the uneven quality of her breathing truly indicating that she was caught in a bout of tears.

Her hair had tumbled out of its coils and the simple elegance of her gown intensified her beauty. He felt a fool and resented her tears because they so easily cut through his armor and pierced his heart.

"Are you packed then, Bella?" he said gruffly.

Her head jerked his direction and those wonderful eyes of hers showed genuine surprise. Just as quickly she dashed a lace edged handkerchief to her nose, jumped to her feet and turned away from him. "Oh, aye. 'Tis all packed."

She hurried to the bed and picked up a soft wicker basket, s.n.a.t.c.hing up Henri's scattered toys and stuffing them inside.

Sir John stepped onto the polished tiles, his heels clicking with each pace and he stood for a moment looking at the four oversized trunks. They would be outrageously heavy, stuffed to the very tops with more clothes than she could ever possibly wear.

Likewise, Henri, Geoffrey and Robin would be spoiled with gifts, clothes and useless jewels. In all his married years, Chandos had never been able to put a stop to Eustace Saint Pierre's over-indulgent spoiling of his only daughter.

The man equated his gold with love. Chandos was disappointed his Bella wasn't more resistant to Eustace's smothering.

Still avoiding facing him, Bella yanked on the bell cord to summon footmen to take the trunks, then she s.n.a.t.c.hed up Henri's cape and his cap. Turning to face him, she said, "I'm done."

Her jaw was set, her eyes clear and her nose quite pink.