Lyssa shook her head. “N-No one knows but me and Sir Garret and his friend, Sir Zayin. O-Of course, now you know, but no one else. W-We watched some men play games and dance. I-I have never had such fun, Auntie, not ever. I-It was the most wonderful evening of my life.”
Rose didn’t like the idea; not any of it. She couldn’t understand why Lyssa didn’t see anything wrong with it. “The knight had a friend, yet?”
“A-Aye, Auntie.”
“So you went off with two men?”
Lyssa nodded hesitantly because the way Rose said it made it sound like something terrible and dirty. “H-He was polite and kind, just as Sir Garret was,” she insisted, becoming hurt. “C-Can you not believe me when I say there was nothing improper?”
Rose was nearly beside herself. “Of course I can believe you,” she snapped. “But I am not at issue here. You may think that no one else knows of your adventure, but someone saw you return late last night just before the rest of us returned from Westminster. If you think you and the knight and his friend are the only ones who knew you did not come home right away, then you are mistaken. I heard the whispers this morning.”
“B-But we did nothing wrong!”
Rose grasped her. “Lyssa, listen to me,” she said. “You are a lady-in-waiting to the Duchess of Colchester. That means that you are judged by a higher standard. Any woman who would be seen alone with a man is a woman of questionable morals. You should have never allowed Sir Garret to take you to this – this tavern. It was unseemly and wrong. Do you understand me?”
Lyssa did, for the most part. But she was still hurt that her aunt would think so poorly of her. “B-But nothing unseemly happened, not in the least. W-We watched some entertainment and then returned to The Wix. A-Although… A-Although we did have a bit of a folly on our way back.”
“What folly?”
“W-We were beset upon by bandits and in the chaos, I hit my head. I-I have a big lump on my skull.”
She was rubbing the spot and Rose reached out to touch it, also, feeling the walnut-sized bump. She groaned unhappily.
“Lyssa,” she sighed, shaking her head, “you will never again do this, do you hear? As a lady to the duchess, you must always behave properly. That means you do not go off with men you do not know. Is this in any way unclear?”
Lyssa was starting to feel great guilt coupled by great disappointment. “B-But I know Sir Garret,” she said. “H-He is the Captain of the Royal Guard. H-He is a great and powerful knight and….”
Rose cut her off. “No more, Lyssa. Promise me.”
“A-And he wants to call upon me. A-Auntie, he wishes to court me!”
Rose looked at her as if she’d been struck. Her eyes widened and her mouth popped open. “Court you?” she repeated. “Lyssa, you do not know the man. This is completely improper!”
Lyssa grabbed on to her aunt’s arm. “I-I would agree with you,” she said, “except in a perfect world if he wanted to court me, he would ask my father. I-I have no father, nor do I have a mother. Y-You are the closest thing to a parent that I have. A-Auntie, please do not deny me. I-If he asks your permission, may he court me? P-Please?”
Rose pulled away from her, heading for the door. “I will not discuss it.”
“W-Why not? P-Please, Auntie… it may be the only chance I have of ever marrying. I-I do not wish to remain a spinster like you for the rest of my life!”
They were sharp words and Rose paused at the door, abruptly, looking at Lyssa with an expression of both sorrow and pain. Without another word, Rose quit the chamber, leaving Lyssa in tears.
She hadn’t meant to hurt her aunt, but she couldn’t believe the woman would refuse Garret’s request. She couldn’t believe her happiness was over before it even started. Rose had never married and, as far as Lyssa knew, had never even expressed any interest in it. Did Rose really expect her niece to follow in her footsteps as a frustrated old spinster? Perhaps that was the life for Rose, but not for Lyssa. She wanted a husband and a home.
She wanted Garret.
Fighting off tears, Lyssa went straight to the garden without breaking her fast at all.
*
He had come out to the flower garden because his wife was inside, breaking her fast with her ladies. That was Grace’s usual morning routine – eating with her ladies and discussing the coming day. But a quick perusal of the ladies’ solar showed that one woman in particular was missing.
That is exactly what Jago was hoping for.
If the ladies weren’t in the solar sewing or reciting or even painting, then they were in his wife’s flower garden. There was simply no other place they could be and Jago was counting on the fact that a certain lady would be in the garden. Before his wife finished her meal and before she sent more of her ladies out to the garden, Jago had to act quickly. Aching head or no aching head, he would take this opportunity.
If Grace would not bring him Lady Lyssa, then he would have to find the woman himself.
The great garden of The Wix was already established when Jago had been granted the manor but Grace had immediately taken control of it, turning it into quite a showplace that even the barges along the Thames would stop to view. There was no wall on the river side; parts of the garden merely ran up the river bank and even into the water, so the garden could be seen by those traveling upon the waterway.
It was damp and warm in the garden, even at this time in the morning. There were a few servants about, but they were moving in and out, hardly paying attention to the duke who had entered the grounds through an old iron gate. Some of the stalks were so high that Jago couldn’t see over them to the rocky pathway on the other side; lavender and hollyhock reached for the sky, blocking his view in several instances, and rows of yellow oxlips lined the beds, flowers that Grace had brought in from East Anglia. As Jago wandered towards the south side of the garden, towards the river, he caught sight of someone moving over by the enormous growth of violets.
His prey had been sighted.
Jago could see the woman more clearly as he rounded a hedge of roses and he knew it was Lady Lyssa simply by the color of her hair. She wore a wide-brimmed bonnet on her head and a thick braid trailed down her back. Dressed in a pale gown with long sleeves, she looked elegant and angelic. Just the way he liked them. With a particularly lustful gleam to his eye, Jago came up behind her.
“Lady Lyssa,” he said. “Why are you not inside breaking your fast with the other ladies?”
Startled, Lyssa turned quickly to see that the duke was nearly on top of her. Literally, the man’s legs were against her hip and she fell onto her bum in her haste to put space between them. He’d come up so silently that she hadn’t even heard him approach.
“M-My lord,” she gasped, trying to unwind her feet from her skirt where they’d tangled. “I-I did not hear you draw near.”
Jago reached down to help her up but she didn’t seem to want his help. She was trying to pull away from him even as she struggled to stand.
“Why so nervous, my lady?” he asked in a sickly-sweet tone. “You need not be nervous around me. I would certainly never do you any harm. We have hardly had time to know each other since your arrival.”
Lyssa was quickly growing uncomfortable. For every move she would make to put space between them, Jago would close the gap. She’d really only been introduced to him once upon her arrival at The Wix but, since then, she’d had virtually no interaction with him.
But that didn’t mean she hadn’t heard the rumors about the man. He beds the servants, Rose had told her. You would do well to stay away from him. She never remembered those words more clearly than she did at this very moment. She didn’t like the look in his eye.
Like a hunter.
“I-I am in the service of the duchess, my lord,” she said, finally gaining her feet. “L-Lady de Nantes keeps me very busy but I do not mind. I-I like to work.”
Jago could look her in the eye now; he was a bit taller than she was but not by much. He could see
her creamy complexion, rosy with the humidity, and eyes the color of bronze. She had the most astounding eyes. In fact, she was quite perfect but for the fact she seemed to have a catch in her speech. But that could be nerves; surely so exquisite a creature could be nothing less than perfect.
“My wife is an industrious woman,” he said. “Is that why you have not broken your fast this morning? Because she has forced you to work? Then mayhap you would do me the honor of breaking your fast with me.”
Lyssa went from uncomfortable to fearful all on one swift movement. Up until this moment, her impression of the Duke of Colchester had been one of indifference because she had never come into contact with him, and rumors had not been of particular interest to her. But now, everything she’d ever heard about the man began swirling in her head and her heart began to race with terror. She could hardly believe she found herself in such a position. It was hugely unexpected and vastly unwelcome.
“M-My lady has given me a directive, my lord,” she said, stepping back from him and indicating the flowers. “A-Although your invitation is gracious, I have duties to attend to and I do not wish to disappoint my lady.”
Jago watched her back away, clearly uncomfortable with him. He didn’t like her reaction; women weren’t supposed to move away from him. They were supposed to move towards him.
“I would not worry about upsetting my wife,” he said. “I would worry more about displeasing me. Do you wish to offend me?”
“N-Nay, my lord.”
“Then come with me and we shall break our fast together.”
Her heart began to pound even faster. “I-I am honored, my lord, but I cannot.”
“Are you disobeying me?”
She shook her head, trying not to panic. “I-I am not, my lord, but I cannot go against my lady’s directive.”
Jago didn’t like her answer. He wasn’t used to being denied anything he wanted. In a flash, he was on Lyssa, grabbing her arm. His fingers dug into her tender skin as he glared at her, his face an inch from her own.
“You do not seem to realize that I am the lord and master here,” he said, his voice low and his breath foul. “It is I who provide a roof over your head and food in your belly. If I wish for you to come to me, then you will. My wife has no say in the matter, for my wishes supersede hers. Do you understand?”
Lyssa was trying desperately not to cry out. “I-I-I do, my lord, but….”
“And stop that stammering. If you are attempting to discourage me with your insipid speech, it will not work.”
Lyssa was at a loss, feeling hot and embarrassed tears on the surface. “T-This is the way I speak, my lord. I-I-I am not….”
He pulled her up against him, so that her body was pressed against his and his right leg ended up wedged between her legs. He could feel her Venus Mound against his thigh and he pressed forward, rubbing on it in an attempt to arouse her. In an awkward and terrifying position, Lyssa turned her head away.
“P-Please, my lord,” she gasped. “Y-You are hurting me.”
Jago wasn’t listening. He’d never seen anything so fine or sweet in his entire life and his lust had the better of him.
“If I want to touch you, I shall,” he hissed, looking at her downturned face and watching her flinch. “You cannot deny me anything, Lady Lyssa, so I suggest you make this easy for yourself. If you do not, I will tell my wife that you have tried to seduce me and she will punish you. Is that what you wish? To be punished?”
His free hand shot out and he grabbed her right breast roughly. Instinctively, Lyssa slapped his hand away and Jago came back with an open-palmed strike to her face that sent her reeling into the rose bushes behind her. As Jago moved to yank her out of the bushes, he heard cries behind him.
“My lord!” It was Rose, rushing into the garden with Juliana behind her. “My lord, what has happened?”
Jago was furious but not so furious that he was willing to explain himself to these women. In fact, he didn’t want to explain himself at all. He simply turned away, quickly taking another path out of the garden, as Rose and Juliana ran to Lyssa’s aid.
The woman was scratched and weeping, carved up by the big thorns she’d fallen in to. Her dress was snagged and her hooded bonnet askew as Rose and Juliana pulled her out of the thorns. Rose was trying to unsnag the dress as Juliana helped with the bonnet, but the moment she untied the ribbon under Lyssa’s chin, she saw the big, red handprint on the woman’s left cheek.
“Lyssie!” she cried. “Your face! What happened?”
Rose quickly saw it, too. “My God,” she breathed. “Did the duke do that?”
Lyssa nodded, sobbing softly, as she put a hand over her welted cheek to cover it. “H-H-He cornered me,” she wept, her stammer worse because she was upset. “H-He… H-He touched me and I pushed his hand away so he hit me.”
Rose was appalled. “Touched you? What do you mean?”
Lyssa simply shook her head, too embarrass to tell her, and Rose was left to imagine the worst. A wave of guilt swept her. She had brought the girl here, knowing full well the appetite the Duke of Colchester had for beautiful young women. But she’d taken the chance because she hadn’t wanted her niece to live alone after the death of her mother. Now, she could see what her attempts to provide the girl with a pleasant life had brought her; no matter how they’d tried to keep Lyssa away from Colchester, he’d found her. Like a dog sniffing out a bitch in heat, he’d come straight to her and Rose was swept with remorse.
She couldn’t let it go unanswered.
“I shall tell the duchess immediately,” she said hoarsely. “She must know that her husband… did he hurt you otherwise, Lyssa? He did not do anything else to you… did he?”
Lyssa shook her head. “P-Please,” she begged, “please let me go to my chamber. I-I do not want to be here. I-I cannot be here.”
Rose smoothed Lyssa’s mussed hair and kissed her on the forehead. “Of course, darling,” she said. “Juliana, take her to my chamber. Do not put her in your chamber where the duke may come looking for her again. Do you understand?”
Juliana nodded fearfully. “I will hide her where he cannot find her!”
Rose didn’t have the strength to counter that declaration. In fact, she agreed with it. “Go, now,” she said quietly. “Be swift. Keep her out of sight.”
Juliana put an arm around Lyssa’s shoulder and quickly whisked the woman out of the garden, heading in the direction of the stables where the duke more than likely would not be. Juliana took her duty very seriously; to get Lyssa to safety was of the greatest concern to her. Of course, she had had her brothers and father and a powerful warring family behind her, which meant that an opportunist like de Nantes wouldn’t be foolish enough to do to her what he did to Lyssa.
But poor Lyssa… she had no one to protect her. Or, so Juliana thought. That was before they came around the side of the stables in their attempt to make a break for the manse and saw Rickard in conversation with his brother and another man in the stable yard.
That was when everything seemed to change.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“This is the first time I have been to The Wix,” Zayin said, looking up at the tall stone walls that were capped with what looked like sharp iron spikes to prevent people from climbing over them. “I have seen it from the road, of course, but I have never been inside. It is an impressive place.”
Garret glanced up at the walls as they passed through the gates, which were massive iron structures. “I have been here twice to see my brother since Colchester moved here for the summer season,” he said, “but I’ve not been inside the manse. Rickard has kept me out here in the yard as if I am an undesirable.”
Zayin grinned. “You serve Richard when your brother’s liege possibly serves the prince,” he said quietly, looking around to make sure no one was close enough to hear him. “It is possible that you are an undesirable here at The Wix.”
Garret couldn’t argue the point. When a soldier approached to ask his busine
ss, he asked the man for Rickard and was instructed to head back to the stables, on the west side of the compound.
Dismounting their steeds, Garret and Zayin continued back to the noisy, smelly stable yard, the heat of the day already bringing out the flies and stench. As they passed into the yard, busy with men tending their horses, Garret spied his brother standing over the smithy as the man worked on the right front hoof of Rickard’s horse. With a wicked grin, Garret picked up a rock and sailed it at his brother with precision, striking the man on the shoulder.
Annoyed, Rickard turned to see who had pitched the rock, his features breaking into a smile when he saw his brother standing near the mouth of the stable yard. Leaving the smithy with the horse, he made his way over to his brother.
“Who let you in?” he demanded lightly. “I shall punish the gate guards severely.”
Garret cocked a dark eyebrow. “Then you should put men on the gate as opposed to boys if you want them to keep me out.”
Rickard snorted. “Now you insult my guards?”
“Since when is truth an insult?”
Rickard shook his head, still grinning. “I will make sure they know how you feel about them so the next time, your passage will not be such a simple thing.”
Garret couldn’t help the smile on his lips. “We shall see,” he said confidently. “But in answer to your question, I came to see you. We did not have much time to speak last night before I left so I thought to visit you this morning. It is rare that I am able to see my brother two days in a row.”
Rickard nodded, putting a hand on Garret’s shoulder. “I do not believe we have seen each other two consecutive days since you returned from The Levant four years ago.”
“That was my thought as well. I hope you do not mind that I brought Zayin with me.”
Rickard shook his head, his gaze moving to the dark-haired man standing next to his brother. “Not at all,” he said. “In fact, my wife was disappointed she did not get to see him last night. She is fascinated by all things from The Levant, so I hope you do not mind if she asks you many questions. She wants to visit The Levant someday.”
Masters of Medieval Romance: Series Starters Volume II Page 39
