"Are you sure of that, Justin? There are few breaches which cannot be mended — "
"You do not understand. This was far more than a lovers' quarrel. It involved a betrayal."
"I see," she said. "But was it beyond forgiving?"
"Yes," he said, "it was."
They continued on up the path, walking in silence for a time. After giving him several sideways glances, she said, somewhat hesitantly, "When you said her betrayal was unforgivable, you really meant that you had to make a choice: whether to forgive her or not."
He smiled, mirthlessly, for she'd spoken greater truth than she knew. He had indeed been confronted with a choice. "I suppose so."
"I know I'm meddling," she said, "and after this, I'll say no more, I promise. But it seems to me that it is still gnawing at you."
"I suppose so," he said again, much more reluctantly this time.
"Could it be, then," she suggested softly, "that you made the wrong choice?"
When he did not reply, she was content to let the matter drop, hopeful that she'd planted a seed, one which might flower into reconciliation. Taking his arm again, she said, Come on, let's go spend your money. I think you ought to buy Nell a mirror. I know where you can get one of polished brass at a reasonable price. And some hair ribbons for her little girl. After that, would you mind if we stopped at St Mary's Church over in Tanner Street? Father Antony has been getting up a collection of blankets and clothing for Kenrick's family, and I would like to see how it is faring."
"I'm glad to hear that. But I'd not give Father Antony all the credit for that good deed. I understand he got a nudge or two in the right direction."
"Luke told you, did he? It was the lad, Kenrick's boy. I could not get that pinched little face out of my mind," she confided, "for that was once me…"
By now they were back on High Street. Eager to show Justin the brass mirror, Aldith was tugging at his arm, urging him to hurry. They had not gone far, though, before. Justin hear name being shouted. Aldith heard it, too. "It is Luke!" She exclaimed in surprise. Turning, they saw the deputy striding swiftly toward them.
"Where in blazes have you been, de Quincy? I've been searching all over town for you!"
Justin was startled by the tension crackling in the other man's voice. He'd thought that Luke had gotten over the worst of his jealousy. "Why?"
"I'd sent two of my men to Southampton to fetch a prisoner. They got back this morn, and with news you need to hear. John's ship dropped anchor in the harbor last night."
Justin drew a sharp breath, and Aldith looked from one man to the other in puzzlement. "John? The queen's son?"
"Who else?" Luke said tersely. "You know what this means, de Quincy?"
Justin nodded. "Trouble." Seeing that Aldith still did not comprehend, he said, "If what we heard is true, John has made a Devil's deal with the French king. He did homage to Philip for Normandy and promised to wed Philip's sister, apparently forgetting that he already has a wife. In return, Philip vowed to assist him in claiming the English crown. So you see, Aldith, his sudden return to England does not bode well for the queen or Richard."
"What are you going to do, Justin?"
"I have to let the queen know," he said, "straightaway."
~~
Aldith emerged from her cottage with a package wrapped in hemp; I packed bread and cheese for you, so you can eat on the road. While Justin put the food away in his saddlebag, she made one final attempt to get him to stay the night. "I do wish you'd wait, Justin, and leave in the morning."
"There are still hours of daylight left, enough for me to reach Alton with luck. That'll put me fifteen miles closer to London on the morrow."
Justin tightened the straps fastening his saddlebag to the crupper, pausing to look across the stallion at the deputy. "I've been curious about something, Luke. Do you know a man named Durand de Curzon?"
"No… the name is not familiar."
"He may have used another name. A man in his thirties, taller than most, with dark auburn hair and beard, bright blue eyes, an overbearing manner." Justin was unable to resist adding, "And a sneering sort of smile."
"I do remember a man like that," Luke said thoughtfully. "He claimed to be the sheriff's deputy for Berkshire, on the trail of an escaped felon. As I recall, he asked a lot of questions about crimes hereabouts, saying he had reason to believe his man might be sheltered by local outlaws. Why? Does it matter?"
"No," Justin said, "not anymore."
Aldith slipped her arm through Luke's, and they followed Justin out to the street. "Keep your guard up, de Quincy," Luke said brusquely, "for John could be a more dangerous foe than the Fleming."
"I'll be back for your wedding." Bidding them farewell, Justin turned his horse out into the road. When he glanced over his shoulder, they were still watching, and he waved, then rode on. The streets were thronged with carts and other riders and he had to keep checking Copper to avoid trampling careless passersby. Once he reached the East Gate, though, he left the city's congestion behind. The road ahead was clear and he urged his stallion into a steady gallop. But Luke's warning seemed to float after him on the wind.
It was late and most of London was abed. But lights still blazed in the queen's great chamber. It was quiet after Justin was done speaking. Eleanor was gazing down into her lap, her splendid rings glittering on tightly clasped fingers. "Pour us some wine, Justin," she said at last, "and we'll drink to my son's homecoming."
Her irony was so labored that Justin winced. Crossing to the table, he brought back two cups, but drank sparingly of his, for wine and fatigue could kindle a fire faster than any fuel he knew.
Almost as if reading his mind, Eleanor said, "You look bone weary. You must have slept in the saddle to get here so fast. Once again you've served me well."
Justin's mouth was dry. He took a quick swallow of the wine, then set the cup down in the floor rushes. "No, madame, the truth is that I have not served you well at all. For more than a fortnight, I have kept something from you, something you needed to know. I have good reason to believe that Lady Claudine is spying for your son."
She continued to sip her wine. "Indeed?"
Justin had been braced for anger, disbelief, even outright denial. But not indifference, never that. "Madame… you did hear me?"
He sounded so bewildered that she almost smiled. "Yes, I heard you, Justin. You said that Claudine is John's spy."
His breath quickened. "You already knew!"
She nodded. "Actually, I've known for some time."
Justin was dumbfounded. "But… but why?"
"Why did I not expose her double-dealing? Surely you've heard of the adage, 'Better the Devil you know than the one you do not.' Well, that holds even truer for spies. Besides, Claudine's spying was never more than an irritation, for she is not ruthless enough to be truly good at it. And as long as John thinks I trust her, he will not look elsewhere."
Justin decided that he needed a drink, after all. "You seem to accept betrayal so calmly, madame. Why are you not outraged?"
"Outrage is an indulgence of youth. It is not a vice of age… or queens."
Before Justin realized it, he had drained his cup. "You know her better than I, madame. Why would she do it?"
Eleanor shrugged. "There are any number of reasons why people are tempted to dance with the Devil. Some do it for money. Some are coerced, some seduced. My son can be very persuasive. But if I had to guess, I'd say Claudine was lured in by the adventure of it."
"The adventure of it?" Justin echoed, so bitterly that the words, innocuous in themselves, took on the sting of savage profanity.
"Yes, adventure," Eleanor insisted, "for that is how she'd see it. I am sure she has convinced herself that no great harm comes from her disclosures. She gives John what he wants, gets what she wants, and no one is truly hurt. It is a game to Claudine, only a game."