Bone of Contention by Roberta Gellis Page B

one of the stools.
    “Maybe you spoke aright when you said God favored us. That this place is a known haunt of Waleran’s men is perfect. You remember Raoul de Samur?” Magdalene wrinkled her nose and William laughed once more and went on, “Yes, yes, he is no prize, but he has been of use to me. A place where it is known his fellows all come will make him feel safe. He will be willing to bring news to you of Waleran’s meetings and doings more often and even speak to me in your chamber directly—in which case I am sure I will be able to squeeze from him even more than he thinks he knows.”
    “I suppose so.” Magdalene grimaced. “But he is not likely to look on me with favor. I threw wash water in his face, Sabina crowned him with her staff, and Dulcie finished him off with her frying pan.”
    William roared with laughter. “Is that how you subdued him? Poor man. I am glad we are on such good terms.” Then he shrugged. “He will not dare touch you or even misspeak you. He knows how I value you.”
    I will have to warn Bell, Magdalene thought. Raoul will not know that William’s protection covers Bell — if it does. William had never shown the slightest sign of sexual jealousy over her, but he seemed to realize that Bell was more than just another body in her bed. Would he doubt her loyalty when he learned that Bell was also in Oxford, or would that arouse his sense of possession?
    Unaware of her thoughts, William continued, “And that was interesting news you gave me about the betting. Can you arrange to hear more of what the men who come here say?”
    “I think so. It was the boy who carries messages and fetches food and wine for the women and the clients who told me. He’s clever, and I gave him reason to like me…” William raised his brows and she laughed. “No, you evil-minded man. The boy is barely twelve years old. I gave him two farthings and a meal. He will be glad to listen for me and bring me what he hears.”
    “I do not believe I was much above twelve when I had my first woman,” William mused, grinning. “Ah, well. I imagine I was a likelier lad than any half-starved whore’s brat. At least while you are here he will be better fed. You do tend to take in the lame and the lost.”
    “And find good use for them,” Magdalene said sharply, then suddenly cocked her head. “Which reminds me, William, could I ask your men to keep their eyes open for a pretty blind girl? I am looking to replace Sabina.”
    “I thought you had, with that green-eyed slut.”
    Magdalene laughed. “Why is Diot more of a slut than I?”
    William stared at her, blinking his eyes to clear his vision. After a moment he said, “You did what you must…as I at times do what I must. Diot does what she likes.”
    Magdalene stared back at him. “You are very perceptive, William,” she whispered.
    “Which is why I am still alive.”
    He looked away, staring into nothing for a long moment, then pushed back the chair and began to rise. Magdalene rose also, her hand going to the tie of her shift, which showed above the neck of her gown.
    “It is not only ‘must’ with you, William,” she said.
    He looked down at her and drew her to him, gently for once. “I wish I could,” he said, resting his cheek against her hair, “but I am pledged to share the evening meal with Lord Hervey at Alain of Brittany’s lodging. Curse the man, he looks down his nose at all of us as if we were bugs to be trod underfoot. And Stephen usually has little patience with such airs. I cannot think why I am sent to dance attendance on him.”
    That comment was not meant for her either. Magdalene only said, “Let me change into a bedgown, William. There is no reason to let Florete or anyone else wonder what we have been doing.”
    He nodded and released her and went on irritably as she swiftly removed her clothing and replaced it with a tucked and embroidered linen bedgown, “This Hervey is not even a decent Norman. He is all French from