The Black Lyon

when I have not told you I love you.”
    “Nay, you have never done so. Amicia knew you had not and when I saw one of your letters that said you loved her…”
    “Do not forget that I did not write those letters. But what you say cannot be true. If I have not said the words, then my actions have told you. Each time I make love to you I tell you I love you.”
    Lyonene sniffed. “But you have made love to many women. Did you love them also?”
    “Nay, I did not, but it is different with you.” He stopped, for he realized she could not know how he was different with her. “Have I not been kind?”
    She worked to control the tears. “You are kind to all women.”
    “Mon Dieu! You will drive me mad. There! I have just told you I love you.”
    “You curse me and that is to be taken as a declaration of love? Forgive me if I do not see your logic.”
    “I have no logic near you. What other woman causes me to lose my temper or makes me laugh? What other woman do I chase across the water or do I dress as a serf to rescue?”
    “Your wife? Isabel whom you loved so well, that drove you near mad with grief when she died?”
    Ranulf was stunned for a moment and could not speak.
    “I know how you loved her. It is in your eyes when I mention her or the child. I think I cannot replace her in your heart.”
    “Do not continue,” he said, his voice cold. “You misread me sorely if you think I bore that woman any love. I will tell you what I have told no other person and then you may judge for yourself what caused my grief.”
    He told the story of a young boy and a faithless wife without feeling, as if it belonged to another. The room was quiet and Lyonene could imagine the feelings that had been stored so long, the emotions that had changed a happy boy into the brooding man who had earned the name of Black Lion.
    They lay together quietly when he had finished.
    “That is why you raged so on our wedding night,” Lyonene said quietly.
    “I have never raged. I am ever good and kind.”
    “You were such a brute I would have left you had I not said vows to you.”
    “You said you hated me, but I did not believe you.”
    “Aye, you believed all, all Giles said. I am sometimes glad for that Welsh arrow, although the scar it left is most ugly.”
    “I love you, Lioness. I do not know how you could have doubted me. I love you more than myself or my yet to be son or… Tighe.”
    Lyonene shook with laughter. “Now I know your words are true.”
    “I shall keep a list of your insults and repay you properly when this great belly of yours does not prevent me from getting within a cloth-yard of you.”
    “I shall look forward eagerly to your instruction.” Her eyes sparkled in the dim light and she moved her leg over his thigh. He was too aware of her skin under his hands, the way her hair caressed her cheek.
    “You are a cruel woman. Now be still. There is only a short while before dawn and I must tell you our plan to remove you from this place.” His hand was on her stomach, and a sharp kick from the baby made him frown. “It has been long since the Round Table. Is not the babe due soon? Will you be able to travel?”
    “It is a full half-month before he will be born, I am sure.”
    “That is soon. Mayhaps we should wait until after his birth. Your Alice will see to you.”
    “And then Lady Margaret may decide to move me elsewhere, or other mishaps. I would not like to take a newborn babe into the cold air. Now he is warm and protected inside me. Alice says he lolls about upside down in a nest of liquid.”
    “We will go then, on the morrow. I wait for my men to come now.”
    “How did you find me?”
    “It was not easy. We had to keep our secrecy, so it was spread about that I was at court, that I did not care about my lowly wife and would not pay the ransom. I am glad you did not hear that story or I am sure you would have believed it.”
    “Nay, I would not,” she lied.
    He gave her a suspicious look for her too-fierce disavowal. “Dacre’s cousins and your father’s have sent spies everywhere. No one thought to look here. This woman, this Lady Margaret, is known only for her lechery for young men. It was not thought she would dare to encourage my wrath.”
    Lyonene felt fear, as she always did when Ranulf became the knight who was feared by so many men.
    “But what caused you to look here?”
    “Sainneville saw your lion belt.”
    “But the boy that I gave it to—they found him and hung