Candle in the Window: Castles #1

by Christina Dodd

  Lord Peter didn’t want her? The thought haunted Saura as she stood through Mass, and broke bread with the servants in the great hall. With a very human reaction, Saura was distressed. The man she thought so much of didn’t want her in his family. She prepared imaginary dialogues between Lord Peter and herself, dialogues in which she pointed out all the reasons she was worthy of his son. Sometimes the dialogues disintegrated into arguments, for Maud had planted two very unpleasant seeds in Saura’s mind. The first seed, of unworthiness, she could deal with, for she had dealt with it her whole life. But the other, much less agreeable seed, Saura stored away to fester in horror. She didn’t want to go back to her stepfather’s house to be a useless dependent, shunned and despised, a charge on her brothers, and always in fear of her life.

  Making her way to the little cubicle off the great hall where the priest worked on the accounts, she found Lord Peter loudly shuffling papers and muttering. “Sit, Lady Saura,” he ordered. “There’s a chair for you.”

  He didn’t rise to assist her, and she didn’t expect it. His gruffness she understood; he was protecting his son from a match he considered below him. Yet Lady Saura of Roget embodied advantages he couldn’t imagine, and she would explain them.

  “You understand, girl, I’m not quite as thrilled as my son. You have proved to me you’re a capable housekeeper, and my grandson worships the ground you walk on. William is completely besotted, of course, and unable to see there are other considerations. I don’t want you to feel I’m ungrateful; I am very pleased you could help restore William’s sight, but…exactly what is your dowry? Will you bring any properties into the family?”

  Leaning forward eagerly, Saura didn’t realize how conveniently Lord Peter had zeroed in on her strongest argument. She only thought how lucky she was to be so rich. “I am sole heir to all my father’s properties.”

  “That must be a sizable amount of land.” Lord Peter pondered, tapping his fingers together in indecision. Then in a different tone he said, “I knew your father.”

  “My lord?” Startled, for this was a connection she had never heard of, Saura listened with a still and anxious air.

  “We were fostered by the same family. He was younger than I, a page at the same time I was a squire. Elwin assisted in my dubbing, bless him, and wished me well when I returned to my lands. I liked him. He was a good man, an honorable man—and a very rich man.” Returning to business, he said, “Women, of course, know nothing about such things, but do you happen to remember any of the names of the properties or their locations?”

  She straightened her shoulders and recited the place names and sizes of her lands. This list he didn’t dare question, for her clear, certain voice conveyed her pride and sense of possession. Maud hadn’t steered him wrong; this lever would move Saura to matrimony.

  Finished, she waited with peaceful certainty until he gained control of his amusement to ask, “Are you aware of how is the land entailed?”

  “Sir?”

  “Are there any other claims to it?”

  “There are no other living relatives; my father was the last of his line, except for me.”

  “When do you take possession?”

  “It is my guardian’s until I marry.”

  “Are you sure? On your marriage to William, you will be heir to—”

  “All of it,” she confirmed.

  “Has your stepfather any claim to it?”

  “None of it,” she said firmly.

  Settling back in his chair, Lord Peter had a smile on his face she could hear. “Women are always so flighty, but if this information is correct—”

  “I swear it is.”

  “Then you will bring a sizable chunk of land to our holdings, and we would be willing to waive most of the dowry that should be paid in coin. Do you know how the lands are being run under Theobald’s hand?”

  Her face clouded. “He wrings them dry and lets the stronger neighbors take what they please. I’ve spoken to him, but all that got me was a blow and an order to mind my needle. My brothers help where they can, but—”

  “So there will be work to get your lands in shape.”

  “Aye, I’m sorry.”

  “And that will keep William away from real combat until we are sure he’s healthy, with no return of his blindness.”

  “Oh.”

  “Aye, indeed. This will be a most profitable union for my family. I’ll contact Theobald at once to start contract negotiations. Personally, I see no problem at all. You are living in my house already, and ’tis acknowledged you were a virgin, recently deflowered by my son.”

  Recalled to her misgivings by his rush to secure her, Saura objected, “I don’t want you to think I’ve taken advantage of your hospitality by trapping William into marriage.”

  “My dear girl, I’ve got warts on my thistle older than you, and with more guile. I can’t think of one reason to repudiate you.”

  “I’m blind!”

  “’Tis not a disadvantage, to my mind. There is perhaps an impediment to the wedding, however. Did you know William’s blood is not pure?”

  “Not pure? What do you mean, my lord?”

  “I’m a Norman. My père fought beside William the Conqueror when he came from Normandy and defeated Harold at Hastings. My mother was Norman, but my eye roved over my lands and discovered the Saxon daughter of the previous lord was fair and young. The young lady wanted none of me.” My father, a stern man, wanted none of her. He laughed softly at his far distant memories. “She wed me when she carried our babe, and my mother welcomed her in feminine sympathy.”

  “Your father?”

  Lord Peter shrewdly watched as Saura stroked her own flat stomach. “William picked up a stick the day he walked and brandished it like a sword, and then sat with a thump on his padded bottom and howled in frustration. He was my father’s pride from that moment, and my wife was honored as William’s mother. You’re daughter of a proud Norman house. The marriage of Norman and Saxon is not a blot; but perhaps you should consider whether you feel prejudice against William’s lines.”

  “What nonsense!” She swept his logic aside with a sweep of her arm.

  “Think carefully. Your children would carry the blood of a conquered race.”

  “My lord, the Saxons fought until the streams ran red with their blood. Conquered they may be, but their courage could never be questioned, and it seems the greatest warrior in England is a result of the mix of blood.”

  “You speak of William?”

  “Of course,” she said proudly. “All else is myth and madness.”

  “I agree.” He paused to let that sink in, and asked, “Other than your blindness, you have no mark on you, I assume?”

  “None.”

  “There is no history of blindness in your family, I know, and God has compensated for your lack of sight with the gifts of intelligence and beauty. In these times of trouble, the marriage needs to be witnessed at once. In all modesty I must admit we are one of the great families in the district. Everyone must be invited, or offense will breed offense and I’ll have a war on my hands. It will be a huge wedding. Can you handle such an undertaking?”

  “Of course!” She sounded just as insulted as he’d hoped. “With Maud’s help, we’ll make ready.”

  “There’ll be hundreds of folk in the castle, nobles and their servants, and much work for you. William and I will handle the entertainment, if that would help, but you will have to organize all the sleeping arrangements and the feeding of such a throng.”

  “I can do it,” she said stiffly.

  “Good. I’ve turned away suits from other fathers who will be here. Fathers who would attain William for their daughters. Lazy sluts, women without grace or talent, bores and nags. You’ll be doing me a favor by taking William off the marriage market. Your mother was a remarkably fertile woman. I would prefer to obtain additional grandchildren from this union, of course, but should there prove to be no issue, William has a healthy son whom we can marr
y off in the next—”

  “Why are you questioning my woman?” William’s roar from the passage interrupted them, and Saura jumped guiltily, as if she and Lord Peter had been plotting against him.

  “Now, William,” Lord Peter soothed. Pleased with the timely distraction, he wondered, with strong justification, if Maud hadn’t seen the need to end discussion before Saura grew suspicious. William’s advent came after he had covered all the important points, after he had assured Saura of her suitability, after he had whetted her taste for her own lands.

  “I can’t believe you have the gall to question the woman of my choice,” William said huffily.

  “Now, son, there’s no need to—”

  “She’ll bend to my will.”

  “William, stop yelling!” Peter raised his voice in a shout that rivalled his son’s. “I couldn’t have arranged a better union for you if I had tried!”

  “Saura and I—what?”

  “I said, this girl is rich. Did you know she is her father’s only heir? And she takes control of her inheritance on her marriage, free and clear? God’s teeth, Elwin of Roget had as much land as I do, it will double our holdings. No wonder that worthless fart, Theobald, never married Saura off. Take her away!” Peter waved his arms vigorously as Saura rose and walked toward William. “And send me Brother Cedric. We will begin to work on the contract at once. We’ll have a huge party to celebrate this union, invite every neighbor and friend. I only wish I could see the look on Theobald’s face when he receives the contract.” Peter gave a great burst of enthusiastic laughter, a laughter Saura softly echoed. “I bet he has fits.”

  As William led Saura out of earshot, Peter grinned in triumph. “This will be wedlock, indeed.”

  Out in the great hall, William took Saura’s arm awkwardly. “I apologize for my father’s, um, great enthusiasm for your holdings. I assure you ’twas not your lands that attracted me to, that convinced me to….”

  Still smiling, her face shining with pleasure, she answered, “Nay, William, I realize that and I’m very grateful. But just think, my own lands will be mine, to manage as I see fit.”

  “Does that mean,” William asked slowly, “you will marry me?”

  “Aye, your father has convinced me. ’Tis the right thing to do. I am blind, but he assures me I’m beautiful.”

  “And you believe him?”

  His tone was a mystery to her, completely neutral and delivering a fleeting blow to her newfound confidence. “Am I not beautiful?”

  “Very beautiful,” he confirmed. “I’ve told you so many times.”

  Her brow cleared of its pucker. “Aye, and your father convinced me. Also, he says my personality is pleasing.”

  “Pleasing?”

  “Is it not?”

  “Aye.”

  “And I’m competent to manage a household.”

  “My father convinced you of that, too?”

  “Nay, I always knew that. Your father forfeited most of my dowry. A good thing, since I doubt Theobald can pay even a paltry sum. Lord Peter also reminded me of the good I’ll be doing by attaining command of my lands.”

  “Am I permitted to share in the stewardship of these lands?” William asked sarcastically.

  Waving her hand with airy grace, Saura conceded, “You know more about administration than I could ever know, but don’t you understand? At last the people I remember from my youth will be protected, the country I roamed as a child will be handled correctly. ’Tis perfect, William. You get a great amount of land in compensation for marrying me, and I get my lands. Not the least of the matter, the profit is taken from Theobald. Isn’t it glorious?”

  Piqued by her capitulation and the reasons for it, William questioned, “Is this all we get with our marriage?”

  Her puzzled face turned up to his. “What do you mean?”

  Picking her up, William showed her with his mouth and his body what he meant, and then he stood her with spine-jarring suddenness on the floor.

  His sword called him, his lance, and his broadax. His weapons promised relief from the consternation and disbelief that boiled in him.

  She didn’t love him.

  He had taken her to his bed, showed her in the bluntest manner possible he worshiped her, and she would have nothing of him until his father convinced her to wed.

  By bribing her with her own lands.

  It tasted bitter on his tongue. The gall of that woman!

  He knew where he could work off his rage, and he strode down the stair to the bailey. There the hands led the horses out to be groomed and exercised, maidservants plucked the weeds from the herb garden, and Kimball and Clare practiced their mock battles.

  Glaring around him, he stopped by the stables. His hands worked, his muscles begged for action, and a fiery promise lit his eye. Activity melted away as all around him recognized the signs. The stable boys working with the horses skipped out of the way and Kimball and Clare skinned up a tree, hiding in the leaves. William barely noticed, so concentrated was he on relieving his temper. Leaning down, he hefted the long rod the boys used as a lance and shouted for his chief man-at-arms. The soldier came running down the steep stairs that led to the wall walk, and William ordered, “Channing, I want a message sent to Sir Guilliame, telling him to return his son to my care. I need a squire. I need one at once.”

  “An’ if the thane has entrusted his son t’ another knight?”

  “Then see if he has another son. But I doubt that young Guilliame has gone to fostering yet. The family will keep him home for an extended visit.” Channing nodded. William twirled the stick in a slow design, and tucked it under his arm to heft the weight. “I’ll need many messengers prepared to go to all the neighbors and my vassals and castellans with an invitation. I am,” grimness bracketed his mouth, “to be married.”

  The boy-laden tree whooped with approval.

  “Ye have persuaded the lady, m’lord?” The man-at-arms was eager, smiling with pleasure, and William sourly wondered how Saura had extended her influence to his fighting force.

  “What does it matter who persuaded her?” William growled, jabbing the makeshift lance into the ground. “It is done. At the end of this moon, I’ll need a troop of men ready to ride with me to Pertrade Castle to ‘persuade,’” his mouth tilted with pleasure, “Lord Theobald to sign the marriage contract.”

  Channing’s face glowed with his own pleasure. “Gladly, m’lord. Lord Theobald has an ill fame in these parts that owes t’ his treatment of his peasants an’ his servants, an’ I’ll have no problem fillin’ a troop.”

  Nodding dismissal, William stepped into the open stable doors. “Bring my destrier!” he shouted with a volume that blew a great explosion of dust and hay into the air. Stable boys raced to do his bidding, and he rapped the tree trunk with the rod. “If you want to see some practice with the quintain, come at once.”

  He could hear the lads scrambling to get down as he warmed his muscles with a measured run out to the outer bailey and around its perimeter.

  The quintain had never changed in all the days of his life. It sat at the center of a jousting course, challenging the untrained to combat. At one end of a timber, a weighted dummy sat dressed in a discarded knight’s robe and sporting a scarred shield. At the other end hung a bag of sand, and the post in the middle acted as a pivot for the revolving crosspiece. Many boys had tilted at Sir Quintain; many boys had eaten dust when they failed to gallop past after striking the shield with their lance. The sandbag would swing behind them and knock them off their horse, and the next time they tilted at Sir Quintain the painful lesson prompted their flawlessness. It was better, as Lord Peter explained to the bruised boys, to be knocked breathless by a sandbag than to be dead of a lance that pierces your chain hauberk in battle.

  The destrier came prancing out, dragging three grooms by the bridle, and William measured the distance with his eyes. Taking a running start, he leaped into the saddle without touching the stirrups. It was the test of maturity, th
at show-off bit of bravado every newly dubbed knight performed for his sponsors. Now he performed it for the children and for the men whose loyalty had never wavered, and they expressed their approval with a roar.

  He steadied the horse as the grooms fled away from the animal’s fury. The destrier reared, twirled, and William fought it to a stop. The familiar feel of a saddle, the smell of horseflesh between his thighs made the world return to its state of rightness. It made him whole again, mended his torn pride and returned him to the confident persona of Lord William.

  He gave a bellow of pure joy as one of the men-at-arms handed him an ashwood lance, and without pausing he kicked the horse into a gallop. The lance settled into his hand like an outgrowth of his own strength, his eyes estimated the distance, and with a shock he smacked the center of the shield and galloped past. The quintain swung in rapid rotations as his audience cheered.

  Turning and saluting the gallery, William directed his mount back to the starting line and held him against the wooden barrier while one of the stable boys straightened the quintain. He still had the ability to control his destrier with his knees, still had the timing and the balance to deal with the challenges of jousting. If the skills of combat had never left him, surely the guile to deal with one young woman lingered in his brain. He could plan an attack, prolong a siege; those abilities could be trained to deal with the female mind. She considered him her passionate lover. She consented to marry him as the protector of her lands. Yet there had to be a stratagem that directed Saura’s thoughts away from the practicalities of body and property and toward this melding of minds that William labeled love.

  Restlessly, the destrier pranced as he settled in the saddle and took a firm grip on the lance once again. Leaning forward, he kicked the horse again, braced himself, and struck the shield again. But in that moment of impact, an appalling thought distracted him. What if her wretched stepfather refused to yield her lands? Would she then refuse to marry him?

  Like the thought which knocked him from his complacency, the quintain swung with solid force and knocked him square in the back. Unprepared, he tumbled out of the saddle and end over end until he came to rest in the grass at the side of the wall. With a groan, he rolled onto his back and stared at the white clouds drifting through the summer-blue sky, and wondered how long this woman would destroy his equilibrium.