Page 94 of Her Dark Seduction
Chapter 27
The hissing increased as I felt a cold shock on my skin, and I opened my eyes. The lower half of my gown was dripping wet, the fire almost out. The crowd had fallen silent. A deep, stentorian voice echoed around the courtyard.
“Stop this! Douse the fire again. Quickly!”
The king had risen to his feet. A party of about ten men on horseback wearing identical livery stood in the yard. The man who had spoken sat astride an enormous black destrier. Two men in the same livery stood beside me, holding empty buckets. A third ran toward the platform with a bucket full of water which he poured onto the wood at my feet, extinguishing what remained of the fire.
“Release her.”
The executioner untied my wrists and helped me down. I moaned in pain—my feet and the lower part of my legs were badly blistered.
The king’s voice rang out across the yard. “Hold her!”
He spoke to the man on the horse. “What is the meaning of this, de Beauvane?”
So, this was de Beauvane. About two score years with dark hair graying at the temples, he had an imposing face, a strong brow, straight nose and a large, square jaw. He looked at me with a hard expression in his eyes.
“This woman is innocent.”
The king’s face reddened with anger. “To interrupt the execution of a traitor is a punishable offence. Explain yourself.”
“I can vouch for her personally, my liege. She is not a traitor.”
“Then what is she?”
“My mistress.”
The king nodded toward me. “Is that true?”
I shook my head but de Beauvane continued. “Whatever she says, she is my mistress. Only her modesty prevents her from admitting it.”
“My patience wears thin, woman. Are you Sir Roger’s mistress?”
“Aye she is,” de Beauvane interrupted. “She has borne me a son.”
“I have not…” I stuttered but de Beauvane continued, his eyes staring right at me.
“His name is Geoffrey Valentine.”
I gave out a low moan of shock.
“Geoffrey…”
“Tell him,” de Beauvane ordered harshly. “Tell him who you are.”
De Beauvane dismounted and strode toward me.
I nodded, afraid to move. “I am as he says.”
De Beauvane curled his gloved hand around my bandaged arm.
“Why did you say nothing of this?” the king demanded. “Why should I not still have you executed for treachery?”
“If I may speak,” de Beauvane said, “I’ll assume responsibility for her. She has given me no occasion to doubt her loyalty to me—or to you. She has always supported your mother’s claim to the throne. I took her under my protection when Lord Mortlock was killed. She was foolish enough to venture out unaccompanied and de Tourrard took her, for which I will punish her. You may doubt her loyalty, but do not doubt mine. Be assured I will treat her harshly and deliver her unto you if she gives me the slightest cause.”
“You have still not answered my question, woman,” Henry said. “I would have you explain yourself.”
De Beauvane’s grip on my arm tightened.
