“All right.” Let’s see if she could shock him into revealing more. “We were searching for you. Well, your bones, to be precise.”
Quiet descended between them. The very air held its breath.
“At Langeais? Why?”
Those few syllables held so much inflection—surprise, curiosity, confusion, determination to have answers.Join the club, mister.
“We could find no record of your death.” Not uncommon in itself. Records were often lost, destroyed in fires. “There were no details of battles at that time, no written evidence that illness had struck you down. What we do have is a notation in your chaplain’s journal.”
His gaze never left her face. Oh, she had his attention now.
“Continue.”
“The notation speaks of a summons from Comte Lothair, for you to attend him at Langeais Keep.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “That is of no consequence. I am summoned often.”
“A week later, he added two words.” Two simple, yet extraordinary words sending their research into overdrive. “Numquam rediit—never returned.” Coupled with the other document they’d found, it pointed directly to Gaharet d’Louncrais’ bones being in an underground cell at Langeais Keep.
“So I do not return to my keep after this summons from Comte Lothair?” His expression turned thoughtful. “That does not mean with all certainty that I die.”
“No, it doesn’t. It’s merely a theory, one we had yet to find evidence to support.”
“And this theory leads you to believe Lothair and I had a disagreement?”
“It does.”
He smiled. “Lothair is always disagreeing with people—his wife, the church, the Comte de Blois.”
“His wife ended up dead, and he maintained his hold over Langeais despite the efforts of the Comte de Blois. As for the church, he forced them to grant him absolutions for any infractions by taking pilgrimages to the Holy Land. Things don’t turn out so well for those who disagree with Lothair of Anjou.”
His eyes widened. “Marguerite dies following a dispute with Lothair?”
“Yes.” That’s what he got out of all that she’d said? “Word supposedly reached Lothair of a treasonous plot instigated by Marguerite. Historians are still divided over whether Marguerite was innocent and Lothair simply used treason as an excuse for getting rid of her. There are hints in recovered documents suggesting Lothair caught Marguerite in a compromising position with another man. A blacksmith, I think. Whatever the case, she ended up dead. There are no records of a trial, or any evidence supporting the charge of treason. There is, however, a record of her being burned at the stake in the public square at Langeais at the order of her husband.”
He grimaced. “Not a good way to die.” He sighed. Took a sip of wine. “Her fate hardly surprises me, though. She has been less than discreet.”
Erin frowned. “I don’t condone infidelity, but his reaction is monstrous. And to trump up a charge of treason because his wife cheated… Especially given thathisextra-marital affairs are legendary. Surely someone could’ve stopped him, had some influence over his actions.”
He raised an eyebrow at her, an amused smile playing across his lips. “He is Comte Lothair. No one in his own county would challenge him. Has your study not taught you the type of man he is? Do your books not tell of his savage temper?”
Oh yeah, Lothair’s fondness for killing, burning and pillaging was well documented.
“After he died, they named himLothair le Diable.”
“Lothair the Devil? How appropriate.”
“My point is, those who disagree with Lothair suffer the consequences.”
He grunted in response, rubbing his chin, tugging at his beard, avoiding her eyes. He swirled the last of his wine around and drank it down, placing the goblet on the table with a soft thunk.
He looked up at her. “Do you have any theories on the cause of the disagreement behind Lothair and I?”
“Would I have asked you if I did?”
He grunted again. She hid a smile, taking another sip of her wine. She had him on the back foot now, and he wasn’t too pleased about it.
“When is all this due to occur? When does Lothair summon me to Langeais?”