Candle in the Window: Castles #1

by Christina Dodd

  “Oh, indeed?” His grin widened. “And which way did my father go?”

  “To his chamber, brave soul that he is.” One of the men cackled.

  “And has anyone come out?”

  “Nay, m’lord, he and the woman probably wrestled each other into submission.”

  The whole group fell about the benches, laughing at the suggestion, and William shook his head and left them, well aware their amusement was mixed with awe. Despite Lord Peter’s age, and he was into his forties, he was a vigorous man who enjoyed women both in and out of bed. And Maud had terrified the minions from the day she set foot in Burke Castle. She was a woman not to be trifled with. The combination of Lord Peter and Maud seemed likely to change their establishment in ways they couldn’t imagine.

  William’s firm rap at Lord Peter’s chamber brought only the muffled shout of “Go away!” in a disgruntled masculine voice.

  Ignoring the directive, he flung the door open and stepped over the threshold. Lord Peter came out of the covers with a roar that diminished abruptly when he saw their visitor. “This had better be important, son,” he mumbled in disbelief.

  “I swear to you it is.”

  Maud’s head peeked up through the furs on the bed. “And m’Lady Saura had better be in good health.”

  “Oh, she is.” William moved closer to the dais, dragging a stool after him. He sat himself astride, surprised by the bobbing of Maud’s head. “She’s wonderful. And sleeping very soundly.” He peered at her in the feeble light of the night candle. What was the matter with the woman?

  Lord Peter sat all the way up, the furs falling away from his bare chest. He shoved at the pile of clothes on the bed and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. “So what is it, boy?”

  “I need help with Saura. She’s resisting me. She’s resisting the idea of marriage, and there’s only one person I have to talk to.”

  Both men turned to stare at Maud, her gray braid set over her shoulder, and she blushed and sank into the pillows.

  God’s gloves! William thought. The woman is embarrassed. Embarrassed, at her age! How he’d love to poke fun at her, to torment her a little with his teasing. But in Maud rested his key to Saura’s consent, and so he tactfully said the one thing guaranteed to distract her. “Saura wants to stay on as my concubine.”

  Maud clucked her tongue. “That girl doesn’t have a bit of sense.” Realizing that sounded like a compliment, she hastily added, “Not that marrying you would be so wonderful, but ’tis better than going back to live with her stepfather.”

  His father stroked his chin. “Well, son, are you sure you want to wed her? After all, there’s no reason to own the tree if all you want to do is pluck the apples.”

  Maud landed a punch in the middle of his chest that rocked him back into pillows and made him wheeze with breathlessness. She folded her arms across her chest and a protective fire flamed in her eyes.

  “I was jesting!” he gasped.

  William drew two fingers alongside his mouth, pulling the smile off his face. “Jesting or no, my problem remains the same. The lady doesn’t wish to marry me, and she has the strength of character to refuse me at the altar.”

  A short silence greeted him, and then Lord Peter nodded. “Refuse you regardless of the marriage contract.”

  Maud morosely agreed. “Refuse you in front of a hundred witnesses.”

  William sighed. “She must be convinced before that time. What do I do?”

  Maud shook her head. “Manipulating my mistress is almost impossible. She knows when you lie to her, she knows when you seek to persuade her to do something good for her and bad for you.”

  William’s fist pounded the bedpost with a short, powerful rap. “Bad for me? This marriage will be a blessing on my life. Can’t she be convinced it’s a sign of God that in her arms I was bequeathed my sight?”

  “Aye, God’s sign that she stay with you. She wants to stay with you, I’m sure. But you don’t understand how she feels about her eyes, about herself. You don’t understand the horrors of living with Theobald, may God curse his name. From the time she could toddle, he kicked at her. He used to tease her by holding her breakfast so she could just smell it, tell her to grab it, and then he’d move it. And laugh, like he was doing something clever.”

  “What about her mother? What did she do?”

  “My mistress, Lady Eleanor, didn’t realize when she married him. Not that she had a choice.” Maud reached out and dragged her shawl from the tangle of her clothes and wrapped it around her shoulders. Rubbing her arms with a slow kneading motion, she remembered, “Saura’s father died so suddenly, like a candle snuffed out, and Lady Eleanor was big with the child, and ill with a rash and fever. She couldn’t keep the estates together. The neighbors began to tear the lands apart immediately. Saura was born, and we didn’t know there was any problem, the babe was so pretty and fair. So Theobald offered for Lady Eleanor and he seemed like a decent man.” She stared back into the past and knit her fingers together. “We knew right away we’d made a mistake. He made her put the child out to a wet nurse and got m’lady pregnant at once.”

  “When did you discover Saura couldn’t see?” William asked.

  She hesitated, sad with memories and not sure if she should share them. The two kind faces turned to her convinced her, and she told them, “I knew before Lady Eleanor, and long before Theobald. Saura was so bright. She lifted her head from the moment she was born and laughed out loud when most babes can only smile. At first I thought that unfocused look was just the way of infants. But soon it was obvious to me, and to the wet nurse. When Saura began to creep on her stomach and groped for everything she touched with such amazement, Lady Eleanor knew. That slut of a wet nurse told Theobald, and he wanted to kill the babe.”

  William sucked in his breath, and Lord Peter muttered something dark and horrified under his breath.

  “If m’lady hadn’t stepped between them, he’d have broken Saura’s neck. If m’lady hadn’t been carryin’ his child, he’d have thrown her aside. As it was, he threatened her if his heir wasn’t perfect. He raged like any weak man faced with a situation he couldn’t bend to his contentment. He sent Saura away, to be raised on her properties, and I went with her. M’lady ordered it, ordered I train her to run and play in the sunshine like any child. And I did until her ninth year, when Theobald grew afraid of the disorder around the country and demanded she come back where he could keep an eye on her. Afraid someone would abduct her and demand her properties.”

  “Was Lady Eleanor happy to have her back?” Lord Peter asked.

  “Oh, aye. Started right in training her to be a lady in charge of a household. Didn’t allow for any excuses, and between the two of us Lady Saura learned everything a chatelaine needs to know. A good thing, too, for m’lady produced five healthy boys for Theobald and grew old before her time. Trained little Saura to care for them, always suspecting she’d not be there for any of them.”

  Alerted by the tone of her voice, William asked, “How did Lady Eleanor die?”

  “I think he kicked her in the belly when she carried his last babe.” A tear trickled down her cheek, and Lord Peter put his arm around her. “Another beautiful boy, stillborn on the wash of his mother’s blood.”

  Recalling the pride and affection in Saura’s face as she spoke of Lady Eleanor, Lord Peter asked, “Does Saura know?”

  “Of course,” she said flatly. “We’ve never talked of it, but she knows. I wouldn’t be surprised but Theobald has bragged about it to her. He worked her, you know, forced her to run the household and raise the children, and then condemned her efforts. Never let up on her. Would have raped her, but for the whole castle who loved her and interfered for her.”

  William leaped to his feet and swore. “I’ll skewer that whoreson on a spit and roast him over slow coals.”

  “I’ll make the sauce,” Maud nodded. “And when he’s done to perfection, we’ll bake him in pastry and toss him in the dung heap.”
>
  They nodded in unison, equally pleased by the picture in their minds, but Lord Peter interrupted their vindictive relish. “That’s fine, but unless William weds the woman Theobald has every right to demand her return.”

  “Possession—” William began.

  “—is worth nothing if the lady decides to leave you,” Lord Peter said brutally. “Indeed, she’ll not get her pennyworth with you as a husband. What sane woman would seek a protector who awaits his death from a knife in the back?”

  With grim resolve, William sank back down on his stool. “Have you thought about what I told you this afternoon?”

  “What? That Arthur was a traitor? I agree. That we need to discover who has masterminded this outrage? I agree. That you need to sharpen your skills as a knight? On that point there can be no doubt. The brain, the muscles have atrophied. That bit of work you did today convinced me of that. Your swordplay is atrocious, your work with mace and broadax is enough to affright your destrier into ducking.”

  “All right! I’ll practice with the squires until I can challenge even you, my father, but that’s the easy part. What of this sly, slinking cur who seeks to destroy me and mine? Who can it be?”

  Maud sighed in exaggerated patience and asked, “Have ye a bed robe, m’Lord Peter?”

  “Of course.” Lord Peter pointed at the trunk where a warm velvet wrap lay flung. “But you’re not leaving me? This strategy will take only a moment.”

  “Men who talk of war and fighting can stretch a moment to its greatest length. If Lord William will hand me the robe, I’ll pour us a cup of wine to sharpen our wits and wet our tongues.”

  “A good woman.” Lord Peter hugged her, his eyes glowing with amusement and tenderness.

  “A sensible woman.” William tossed her the robe and turned his back as she struggled into it. “But how could she be less, to have helped raise up such a woman as my Saura?”

  Maud lifted the pitcher of wine left for the night thirst of the lord. Deliberately she clattered the pewter cup to signal William he could face them once more, and brought him his wine with a puckish grimace. “Flattery will win ye no allies ye haven’t already earned, and expediency buy ye the rest.”

  She flipped her braid behind her as she turned to serve her lover and returned to the bed with her own goblet in hand.

  “Thank you,” William said gravely. “Both for the wine and the advice. Both are good and necessary, and we’re still faced with an unpleasant discussion of serpents and weaklings.”

  “Our choices are limited.” Lord Peter stared right at William, and their thoughts meshed with identical links.

  “Aye. Arthur was fostered with Charles and Nicholas.”

  “And Raymond of Avraché,” Lord Peter reminded him.

  “Not Raymond. He’s one of the richest nobles in the land, one of the highest placed.”

  “Son, men are not always what they should be. Raymond was an unhappy boy when he came to us. His parents cared nothing for him. They were only interested in him as heir, as a political being who could help advance the Avraché cause. Sometimes, such an upbringing can never be cured.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  Lord Peter weighed the facts against his instincts, and shook his head. “Nay.”

  “Raymond is my friend,” William declared, and for him that ended the discussion. “Let us check, instead, the other two and how they influenced Arthur.”

  “Nicholas.” Lord Peter massaged his forehead and then his brow as if the failure of his own fostering drove a pain into him no wine could cure. “Nicholas is quiet, deep, with little to say. He never confided in me, not even as a boy. If there’s rot in him, I’d never know it.”

  “Nor I. Did he influence Arthur?”

  “Arthur had no mind of his own, he blew with the breeze and relished the different currents. Nicholas could have influenced him, but why? Nicholas’s elder brother held the title, but he died three years ago, not long after Nicholas returned to the family holdings. Now Nicholas is lord, and one of the wealthy men of Suth Sexena.”

  “We have left only Charles.”

  “Charles.” Lord Peter took a swig of his wine and lay back against the pillows.

  “What of Charles,” Maud interposed sharply, “that you two should look so thoughtful when you mention his name? Is he not lord to some powerful estate?”

  “He’s lord,” William agreed. “But the estate is not powerful.”

  “When Charles came to his inheritance, the fine castles he should have received had dwindled to a mere one. Only one estate, and ’tis ridden with debt and dishonesty. His father was ever a wastrel, letting the fortifications decay while he followed old King Henry around the courts. Charles is not much better, bragging about his prowess and afraid to joust for fear of losing his horse and armor. And with this wicked disorder that governs us, I fear….”

  “Aye, and I.” William massaged his forehead and eye in such natural imitation of his father Maud chuckled as she carried the pitcher to refill their cups. “If ’tis Charles, how can we trap him before he does us harm?”

  “Invite him to the wedding,” Lord Peter answered promptly. “In such a festive setting, he’s bound to betray his intentions. We’ll watch him like a hawk, keep witnesses nearby.”

  William rubbed his hands in glee. “What a marvelous persuasion for Saura. Surely she’ll wed me if her consent frees me from such a threat.”

  “I wouldn’t depend on that,” Maud said.

  “Well, ’tis the best idea we’ve uncovered yet,” William retorted, rising from his stool and thumping his cup on its wooden seat.

  He strode from the room, invigorated by the discussion and the plan, and Maud watched him with a dry approval. “I would have never thought a loud, blunt man such as Charles would be capable of such underhand treachery,” she mused.

  “Nor I,” Lord Peter said. “Still, one can never be sure.”

  “I’m sure of one thing. Saura will never marry Lord William unless we take the steps necessary. You, m’Lord Fox, will never betray our plan, ye’re far too wily for that. And I’m too wise a woman to tip our hand.” She cuddled beneath the covers and grinned at him, baring strong, white teeth and a considerable glee. “He’ll play his part with conviction if we don’t tell, and will never alert Saura by his voice that we’ve tricked her. Come closer,” she beckoned. Waiting until he draped an affectionate arm around her, she tumbled backward and took him with her. “And listen to my plan.”

  ten

  Saura floundered out of the deep well of exhaustion, urged by the scolding sound of Maud’s voice and a strong conviction she was late for morning Mass.

  “…leaps out of bed to selfishly break his fast after he uses you half the night so you’re too tired to rise like a decent woman to greet the dawn. Half the castle is sniggering, sure you’ve been shown your proper place and you’ll marry Lord William with no more fuss. But don’t you worry, Lady Saura!” Maud’s strong hands grasped her shoulders and lifted her to a sitting position. “I’ll help you escape. I’ll not let any bullyboy push you into something you don’t want.”

  To Saura’s groggy mind, Maud sounded gruesomely cheerful. “I don’t think—”

  “Rape! ’Tis rape!”

  “Nay, nay.” Saura pushed her loosened hair from her eyes and massaged her temples as if they hurt.

  “Like a savage, he carried ye off over his shoulder.”

  “Maud, it wasn’t rape.”

  Maud shoved Saura’s hands away and kneaded with deep and knowing fingers. “What else would ye call it?”

  “It would have been rape if I hadn’t….”

  “Hadn’t?”

  “Hadn’t enjoyed it so much!” Saura flounced off the bed.

  “Oh, isn’t that just like a man,” Maud complained. “Never thinking of you, never thinking of your reputation. I’m supposing you’ll be producing a babe in nine months.”

  “A babe?” She paused in midstep, and her maidservant caught her
long enough to drop her chainse over her head.

  “Oh, aye. Everyone knows when a woman enjoys her man, a babe’s not far behind. But don’t you worry, we can handle such a wee problem.” She never stopped talking, never paused long enough for Saura to think. She shoved Saura’s arms into the sleeves and said, “However, I’m not sure I’ll have to help you escape. Lord Peter stopped me last night and asked me to have you come and talk to him first thing in the morning.”

  “What for?” Saura rubbed her mouth and Maud handed her a cup of fresh-brewed ale.

  “That’ll give you strength to face Lord Peter. That man didn’t look pleased at all. Gruff and rude, grumbling about a marriage between you and his son and how he hadn’t been consulted.”

  “He doesn’t want me?” Saura asked, dazed by the hurt she felt.

  “Ye hurt his consequence, I’d say. Well, I told him he hadn’t looked so stern with William’s eye on him, and he snorted. So maybe we’ll walk out of here with our bags packed by Lord Peter. That’ll make you happy, won’t it, m’lady?”

  Saura nodded, and Maud pushed her to her feet and briskly finished dressing her. “Of course, we’ll have to go back to your stepfather, a happening I had hoped to avoid, but we cannot stay here with Lord William so determined to marry you. T’would be cruel torture to him. So ’tis back to Theobald the whoreson, I guess.” Loathing dripped from Maud’s voice, and Saura clenched her fist as she thought, really thought, about living with her stepfather again. That busy voice kept talking, kept filling in the picture for her. “Pertrade Castle will seem like a small, dirty hole after living at Burke. Ye can’t ride there, and Clare’ll stay here as a page, so you’ll have no companionship. We’ll have to start watchin’ out for the men again, since they never give you a bit of respect. Still, maybe by now that snip of a girl ol’ Theobald married has learned how to manage her own household and won’t have to depend on you so. I imagine by now the servants are used to runnin’ to her for instruction.” Maud twitched the skirt of Saura’s cotte and smoothed her sleeves. “There, now, you look very pretty, just right to meet with Lord Peter after Mass.”