The Deed

The Deed Sands, Lynsay

For Maggie Willan You gave all the love, support, and encouragement that a mother can. I
wish that you were here to see what came of it.

Leicestershire, England, May 1395

Emma peered surreptitiously over her companions in the antechamber. Some were pacing off
nervous energy, others sat stiff and still, but every single one seemed tense and alert as
they awaited their appointed visit with the king.

Glancing down, she noticed that she had begun to shred the hankie she held, and quickly
eased her hold, crumpling the piece of cloth in her hand to hide this sign of her
nervousness.

It had taken a great deal of begging, nagging, and pleading for her to get her cousin,
Rolfe, to arrange this meeting with Richard II. It was not often that women were granted
an audience at court. Popular opinion was that any issue they might bring forth would be
of little import and therefore better seen to by their husband or father. But Rolfe was
one of Richards most favored dukes. He had also been raised with Emma, loved her like a
sister, and was prone to let her have her way whenever possible. Despite her refusal to
explain what her complaint involved, Rolfe had agreed to request an audience for her,
andunfortunatelythe king had been in the mood to indulge him.

Tucking her shredded hankie up her sleeve, Emma settled her hands in her lap and tried not
to fidget. A difficult task. Now that she had gained what she had worked so hard for, Emma
was beginning to regret the impulsive plan she had come up with. Unfortunately, she hadnt
stopped to consider it thoroughly before pursuing it with her usual dogged persistence.
She had conceived it and struck out to make it happen without thinking about it too much.
That was one of her failing sins. She was too impulsive and stubborn in her approach to
the problems in her life. Even she could see that. It would see her in Hell some day. At
least that was what Father Gumpter constantly told her.

Lady Eberhart. Emma gave a start, then paled at the sound of her name. It was time for her
audience with the king! Oh,

sweet Saint Gabriel! This was a mistake.

My lady? When the steward raised one eyebrow at her hesitation, Emma silently cursed her
sudden cowardice and got promptly to her feet. Like it or not, she was here now. By her
own request. She had no choice but to go through with her plans and hope for the best.

Straightening her shoulders, she approached the steward, then followed when he turned
smartly on his heels and led her through the door people had been walking in and out of
for the past hour. Well, most of them had walked in and out, she thought now. There was
that one poor unfortunate fellow. Emma wasnt sure what he had said, but he had apparently
displeased the king. At least that was the opinion she had arrived at when the guards had
dragged the terrified man out by his heels and hauled him away. Probably to the tower, she
thought nervously as she was led into the audience room and up to the chair where the king
was seated.

A cleric of some sort stood on the kings right, while Archbishop Arundel, Lord Chancellor
since Bishop Wykehams retirement, stood on his left. Emma tried to staunch the unpleasant
thoughts that ran through her mind on seeing the prelate. She did not care for the new
chancellor. He seemed far too arrogant and sly to her. Her opinion was not softened by the
expression on his face as he took in her presence now. It seemed he did not even need to
hear her complaint before deciding it a waste of the kings time.

Emma was working herself into a fine temper over that fact when she suddenly realized that
what she would say would most likely prove him correct. BGad! This had indeed been a
mistake.

Lady Emmalene, Your Majesty.

Grasping at the distraction, Emma turned to watch the steward leave after he announced
her, then immediately wished she had not. This was her first visit to court. She was
completely ignorant of the proper etiquette in most things, so she had been simply
following the example of those around her. However, the steward was bowing his way
backward out of the room, leading her to believe she would be expected to curtsy her way
backward out of the room as well. If that were the case, she very much feared she would
make a horrible bungle of it.

Lady Emmalene?

Giving a guilty start, she turned abruptly to the three men before her and dropped a
curtsy, staying in that pose until the king bid her rise.

You are Rolfes cousin? The kings voice was gently curious as he looked her over.

A-aye your majesty. Emma shifted nervously and swallowed the little ball of apprehension
that had lodged itself at the back of her throat. She briefly considered discarding her
plan and excusing herself, but feared such behavior might find her being dragged out of
the room by her feet as the earlier unfortunate had been. A most distressing image. Rolfe
would be horribly embarrassed.

Lord Rolfe asked that I grant you an audience?

Emma bit her lip and nodded.

The king waited patiently for a moment, then raised his eyebrows slightly. What did you
wish to see me about, my lady?

Feeling a blush bloom beneath her skin, Emma let her gaze skitter over the two men
flanking him. She had never considered that there might be someone else present at her
audience. Truthfully, she hadnt really considered the audience itself at all; she had
simply determined to persuade Rolfe to acquire one for her. Now she stood before the king
and these two other men with little in her poor addled mind but horror over what she had
gotten herself into. She was nervous, of course, and had no problem at all in determining
where to place the blame for it.

It was the archbishops fault, she decided, giving that man a firm glare now. While the
king was peering at her with nothing more than gentle inquisitiveness and the cleric
looked simply curious, Arundels expression was becoming more scathing with each second
that she delayed. It made her nervous.

My lady?

Emmas gaze slid back to the king at once. He really was not at all what she had pictured.
She had known he was not very oldbeing perhaps four years older than herselfand despite
living so far away from court and all of its gossip, she was aware of the stories of his
sadness and gloom over the loss of his wife this past year. It was said he had loved Queen
Anne deeply. A rarity in made matches. Still, she had expected him to have more presence.
Truthfully, Emma found the archbishop much more formidable. That gentlemans expression at
the moment was enough to shrivel her up.

A flicker of movement drew her gaze back to the king to see the impatient way he was now
tapping his fingers on the arm of his seat. Emma drew herself up and spoke. I apologize,
Your Majesty, but I wish to speak to you of... She paused, flushing slightly, a pained
expression crossing her features. Tis a delicate matter. Your Majesty, she told him
unhappily.

The kings expression immediately became sympathetic. Pray, take your time, my lady, he
said gently.

Nodding, Emma glanced down at her wringing hands, sighed, took a deep breath, opened her
mouth to speak, then shook her head helplessly. Tis most difficult.

The king nodded, but raised an eyebrow in question and Emma sighed. Deciding there was
nothing else for it, she plunged into speech. My lord, you know that I am married to Lord
Fulk, the Duke of Eberhart?

Richard II inclined his head solemnly. Aye, my lady. I am aware of this. Does your request
for an audience have something to do with your husband?

Emma nodded helplessly again, silently berating herself for her foolish plan. Aye... well,
I... You see, the marriage took place, but to date his lordship has not seen fit to...
um... well... She frowned slightly, aware that her face was now completely red. It felt on
fire.

The king raised his eyebrows curiously even as the archbishops brows drew down in
unpleasant suspicion.

He has not seen fit... ? the king murmured now, letting the question trail away, a small
frown of concern marring his lips as he leaned forward in his seat. Despite the
displeasure evident on his face, the holy man was leaning forward as well, as was the
cleric.

Emma gazed slowly over the three men and wailed despairingly, He has not bedded me since
our wedding, Your Majesty!

All three mouths dropped open at her announcement. The archbishop was the first to
recover, his mouth snapping shut in a firm line of definite disapproval. Catching the
motion, the king straightened a bit more slowly, his lips easing back into an
uncomfortable line. The cleric, however, continued to gape at Emma as if she had just
stripped off her clothes and suggested a game of chess.

Doing her best to ignore the servants rude behavior, Emma caught her hankie as it slid
from beneath her sleeve and twisted at it miserably as she awaited the kings
pronouncement. It was a long time in coming.

Shifting, he cleared his throat, scratched his head, then glanced at a spot vaguely over
her shoulder to ask, I take it this... er... situation... displeases you?

He didnt sound totally certain of that even as he said it, and Emma frowned slightly. She
supposed his confusion had to do with the fact that ladies were not generally thought to
enjoy the marriage act. At least that was what Father Gumpter had told her when she had
approached him. Personally, she did not see what all the fuss was about. She did not like
or dislike it herself. However, enjoy it or not, she was aware of the facts of life and
there was no other way that one might beget a child.

I would like very much to have children, Your Majesty, she said firmly, then added, That
is after all what the Church says a wifes duty is, does it not? I wish to do my duty and
bear an heir to carry on my husbands name. Her gaze flew to the archbishop as she spoke,
and she saw the frown he had been regarding her with up until now fade, to be replaced by
a blink, then the beginnings of approval as he nodded.

Ah. The king nodded solemnly, his hand moving to cover the lower part of his slender face.
Holding his chin thoughtfully, he nodded repeatedly, wisely, and silently. Emma was
beginning to think he would sit their nodding all day when he suddenly shifted, a frown
flickering briefly across his face before he suggested, Mayhap his lordship has been busy
with affairs. He paused abruptly to glare at the cleric when that man giggled nervously at
his unfortunate choice of words. The cleric sobered at once, and the king amended his
words. Estate affairs.

For two whole years? The three men before her goggled in unison again. Do you mean to say,
my lady, that your husband has not...? Aye, Emma admitted grimly.

The three men sucked in their breath in unison. Emma shifted under their glances, aware
that they were now inspecting her for flaws. After all, why else would a man refuse to bed
his bride for two full years? She ducked her head in shame, afraid of what they would see.
Many was the time she had peered into her own looking glass, trying to fathom why her
husband turned away from her. She did not consider herself a raving beauty, but surely she
was not a hag either?

Her hair was honey blond. Her skin pale but flawless. It was true her eyes were perhaps a
bit large for her face, her nose turned up just a bit too much, and her lips just a touch
too large. And aye, she was not fashionably thin, but she was not fat either. She was well
shaped and buxom. And certainly not that ugly, she thought dismally as she once again
wondered why her husband had refused to even step into her room since their wedding night.

What do you wish that we do about this, my lady?

Emma blinked at the question, surprised by it. The answer seemed simple enough to her.
Why... order him to, my lord.

Order? The king nearly choked on the word.

He truly looked taken aback at that, Emma noted with a frown. Of course, my lord. You must
explain that tis his duty... to you as well as to me.

To me?

If he opened his eyes any further, surely his eyeballs would fall right out of his head,
Emma thought now, and sighed patiently as she explained. Aye, my lord. He is your servant,
and as such he should continue his line so that his sons and grandsons might serve you as
faithfully as we do.

The king blinked at that, then glanced at the archbishop who bobbed his head from side to
side slightly, then nodded with a small shrug as if to say it was a plausible argument...
almost. Leaning closer to the man, Richard murmured something Emma couldnt hear. Now it
was her turn to lean forward as the holy man responded. She only managed to catch the last
of that as well, however.

Whatever the case, sire twould certainly seem a sin to leave such... er... ripe fruit on
the... er... vine to waste. Or for someone else to pick, he added grimly.

Sighing, King Richard turned back to her, eyed her silently, then sighed again, pursed his
lips and leaned forward in his seat, a pained expression coming to his face. My lady... He
paused to frown as he realized that he had almost whispered the words, glanced to each
side with irritation to see that the archbishop and the cleric had leaned forward to hear
what he said as well, then glanced beyond Emma and glared.

Following his gaze over her shoulder, she saw the guards at the door straighten abruptly
from their bent-forward positions. They too were curious to hear the kings words.

Shaking his head, he tried again. My lady, you said he had not... er... Seen to his
conjugal duties, the archbishop offered softly. Aye, seen to his duties since your wedding
night. Are we to take it then that he did at least... er... ? Consummate, the holy man
murmured. Aye, did he at least He waved toward the archbishop. Consummate. The wedding?
Aye, Emma said. He scowled at her expression. You do not appear too certain, my lady. Emma
frowned slightly now herself. Truth to tell, she was not sure. She really had no idea what

consummation included. Her mother had died in laboralong with the long-hoped-for son she
had been trying to bearwhen Emma was just six. Her father had raised her on his own after
that, and while he had been an excellent father, he had not been a mother. When it had
come to preparing her for her wedding night and all it entailed, he had hemmed and hawed,
his face flushed red, and told her gruffly, Your husband will be sharing your bed now,
girl.