Page 83 of Never Love a Lord
After a long moment filled with coughs from the audience, the shuffling of booted feet, the king spoke.
“Sybilla Foxe,” he mused. “Sybilla Foxe. At last we meet.” The small figure on the chair was absolutely still. “Nothing to say for yourself? I hear you were in quite a rush to see me after escaping my guards and riding to London through the night, on your own.”
The crowd rippled as heads bowed together in a collective hush.
“No, my liege,” Sybilla replied.
“No?” Edward sounded surprised. “Very well. Let’s get on with it then, shall we?” He turned to Julian quite unexpectedly. “Lord Griffin has been, for the last two years, charged with the task of investigating your mother, now deceased. Amicia Foxe, purportedly of the de Lairne family of Gascony before coming to England. Lord Griffin traveled to the de Lairne family home. All this is true, Lord Griffin?”
“Yes, my liege.”
“Tell the court of your findings regarding Amicia Foxe’s birth.”
Julian swallowed, shifting in his seat. “I was informed that the de Lairne family was home to two young girls. One was a daughter of the Lord and Lady de Lairne.”
“And the other?” Edward prompted.
“An orphan, taken in by Lady de Lairne to be a companion to the de Lairne daughter until the girl was old enough to become a lady’s maid.”
“And this lady’s maid,” Edward hedged, “did she live out her days as a faithful servant in the de Lairne household?”
“No, my liege. It was told to me by Lady de Lairne that she conspired with Lord Simon de Montfort against her family, in order to bring the French barons to heel under your father, King Henry.”
“And she was rewarded with this treachery against her family in what way?” Edward prompted.
“Her family turned her out,” Julian admitted. “She begged mercy from Simon de Montfort, and in December 1248, she traveled to England under a title assumed from the de Lairne family.”
The crowd in the hall erupted in shocked chatter.
“Silence!” the barrister commanded.
“So,” Edward said at length, “it is your conclusion that Amicia Foxe was not of noble birth at all, and that she lied to her future husband, Lord Morys Foxe of Fallstowe, now deceased, in order to secure her station as lady of Fallstowe Castle.”
“That is what the evidence has shown, my liege,” Julian agreed quietly, and each word was like a stab to his chest.
“Sybilla Foxe, if this is true, it would mean that your mother impersonated a peer in order to hold lands after the death of her husband. That she was never Amicia de Lairne at all. How do you answer to these accusations?”
Tell him you don’t know, Julian screamed in his mind.Tell him you never had the slightest idea about any of it.
“I am aware of the tale, my liege,” Sybilla said.
Again, the crowd in the court bubbled with shocked talk.
“Very well,” the king said in a voice that sounded almost pleased, nodding at Sybilla’s bowed head. “Then there is only one more witness we have yet to hear testimony from, which should certainly put those particular charges to rest once and for all.” Edward turned to where Lady Sybil de Lairne sat, heretofore silent. He held his palm out deferentially. “Lady de Lairne herself.”
Sybilla’s head shot up, her eyes wide, her bloodred lips parted. Julian drank in the brief sight of her face like a tonic as she gaped up at the tiny old Frenchwoman. Julian didn’t think he had ever seen Sybilla so openly surprised.
“Hello, Sybilla,” Lady de Lairne said quietly. “It is lovely to meet you at last.”
Sybilla turned her face down into her hands, shaking her head as Edward looked down at her once more, a knowing look on his face.
“Lady de Lairne,” Edward said, “is it your witness that the information gathered by Lord Griffin while at your home late last year is accurate? That the woman known as Amicia de Lairne was, in truth, an imposter?”
“Yes, it is accurate,” Lady de Lairne said sadly. “Lady Foxe was not Amicia de Lairne.”
Edward nodded, and Julian thought for a moment that he looked down on Sybilla with something akin to sympathy on his face.
“She could never have been Amicia de Lairne,” Lady de Lairne said succinctly, holding aloft a gnarled index finger. Her smile seemed oddly triumphant. “BecauseIam Amicia de Lairne.”
