Redefining Rayne

by Amy Mullen

  She had no retort as he stalked away, leaving her alone. She stood were she was, flustered and afraid, as a soldier moved in to usher her back through the gate. It had been less than a day and already he appeared unflappable. How would she ever get him to send her home? He seemed to tolerate her stink so long as he was not embarrassed. Perhaps that was the key. She would bathe, but that would not stop her from trying something new. What would he do if she embarrassed him at every turn? Would that be enough to urge him to send her away?

  Chapter Five

  Many hours later, Rayne readied for supper. The sun was setting as the air cooled, but the fire in the hearth kept her room warm. Tillie seemed more at ease now that Rayne had bathed. She had spent almost an hour untangling Rayne's hair before it was presentable again, and it was not an easy task. With a proper braid containing her tresses, Rayne resembled the lady she was. Tillie brought a clean kirtle to Rayne, and Rayne said nothing as she accepted it. She rejoiced in being clean again, but was disappointed her ploy had not worked.

  Frustrated, she had to admit she was beginning to like Andre. Even worse, she was attracted to him. It had only been one day and yet, he was affecting her in ways she did not understand. She should have been screaming as he carried her off to the moat. Had her late husband done the same, the outcome would have been bodily harm. Somehow she felt safe with Andre even though she had not known where he was taking her or what he meant to do with her. This worried her. She would have a harder time carrying out her plans to go home should she start to trust and like him.

  He was certainly a good-looking man. His high, arching brows drew attention to his eyes. A shadow of a beard appeared on his face, and a faint, small scar zigzagged up his cheek near his right ear. His raven hair was long enough to brush his nape. He was rugged. Sure. Strong. He even smelled good. When compared to her last husband, he was a god.

  "Please, Tillie, hurry," Rayne said as she drove the image of him out of her mind.

  "Milady, I am pleased you have given in," Tillie said with a click of her tongue. "I told you he is no one to mess with."

  "Given in? I have not given in. I just have to go about this another way. I will have a new plan by the morrow. I have not forgotten why I am here. There must be something which will drive him to distraction so he will send me away. I just have to figure out what that would be. There is also a benefit for me I did not see."

  "What is that?" Tillie asked as she closed the shutters and went to add more wood to the hearth.

  "I am not afraid of him as I feared I would be. He does not frighten me as Claude often did."

  "Meaning?"

  "I mean I have felt better in the last day than I have felt in the last five years. I do not know what to make of it," Rayne admitted.

  "Mayhap he gives you nothing to fear? Though I would think being tossed into the moat was not a high point in your life."

  Rayne shrugged. "Nay, 'twas not fun, but I wasn't exactly tossed. He went in with me. I do see reason behind it, though. In the past, there was never a good reason. I would bear the brunt of Claude's fist for walking into a room at the wrong time or for not filling his ale mug fast enough."

  Tillie followed as Rayne stood and left the room. They walked to the hall and started down the stairs. Rayne hesitated before she descended the final steps. Eyes were on her, but most were respectful enough to avert their gaze quickly. She was presentable now, beautiful even, but she did not notice the appreciative stares. She was simply glad the smell was gone.

  Tillie left her side to sit nearby at a trestle table while Rayne joined Andre at the dais. He stood silently as he watched her walk toward him. She could not read his face. Boisterous laughter from some of the men-at-arms in the far corner spooked her, and she jumped, but she managed to compose herself quickly. Rayne and Andre sat down together and immediately, food began to appear. She chewed on her bottom lip as she wondered what she could do to make this man angry enough to send her back to William Rufus.

  "You almost pass for a lady," Andre said as he lifted his wine to his lips.

  "I beg your pardon?" Rayne said, caught unaware.

  "You look nice," he said, "I knew beneath the stench and dirt was a presentable lady."

  Rayne shrugged. "I am aware of your displeasure, milord. I am most confused about my sudden lot in life, and surely a wise man such as yourself could understand how I may not know what I should do. I am from but a small manor and unaccustomed to your worldly ways."

  Andre put down his wine. "Lady Rayne, you lived in London. The king is your cousin. You jest with me."

  "I only meant Cuxton is so large one could get lost. My manor could never compare."

  "'Tis like comparing fish and boars, or mice and clouds."

  "I only meant…"

  "You know how to bathe, Rayne. Discussion over."

  "Of course, milord. My humblest apologies."

  Rayne's stomach growled when food was placed before her. After the prayer, they ate in silence, listening to the chatter filling the hall. Other than the priest, they were alone at the dais, and even then, they sat alone at one end. Loud, booming laughter from the trestle tables reached her ears, and a woman squealed. Those at the high table remained silent.

  The next three months were going to be rough. She had not thought much about what it would mean to be here other than her plans to irritate Andre. It had only been one day, but he appeared unflappable. Three months was a long time to try to get out of the marriage contract, but at the same time, a sense of doom enveloped her.

  "'Tis good food, milord," she said, finally breaking the silence.

  "'Aye, 'tis a benefit of being lord," Andre said flatly as he studied her face.

  Rayne ate in silence again. His eyes remained fixed on her, but she refused to look up. She did not want to feel any connection, nor could she love him. In truth, she was not sure she knew what love was or why so many sought it. Marriages were arranged for a reason. Love was a gift to some, but she thought it a lie. She had only known fear, and now that fear was absent, she only knew confusion. Here, at Cuxton, she felt like an imposter. This life was too good for her.

  Another idea came to her as she finished eating. Tell him about the babies, her mind screamed, but she immediately dismissed it yet again. Telling Andre she could not have children would not work. She peeked at the man across from her and imagined herself telling him. He had been kind, but he was stern. He was patient thus far, or at the least, much more patient than Claude could have ever been. She could not picture herself admitting she was half a woman to him, or anyone. It would bring it back, make it real, and dredge up feelings of hopelessness she had tried so hard to bury. Despite Claude's abuse during their marriage, Rayne still had some pride.

  She could not tell him. Not only for the personal reasons, but also because he would not believe her. He already sensed she was against the marriage, and he would think her a liar. Rayne knew she would deserve that title. He had no reason to believe her, and sharing that personal pain with a man who was little more than stranger was unacceptable.

  What could work to ruffle this man? Embarrassment? Would he tire of a meek woman or denounce a bold one? Rayne's confusion grew. She knew nothing of men, really. She only knew Claude and those like him. Andre was different, but the complete picture of who he was had yet to form.

  As Rayne retired for the night, her mind whirled. Despite her own worries and mounting confusion about what she should do, she thought of the children. She had not heard a sound from them. How old were they? What did they look like? Unable to settle her mind, Rayne decided to look around. Tillie had already gone to the great hall to bed down for the night and was not there to stop her. She would not go far.

  Stepping carefully, Rayne left her quarters and stood in the passageway. The torches along the wall burned brightly, pushing back the darkness. She turned toward the direction of the nursery, looking about to be sure she was alone. Voices from below came, but they were low. No footsteps announ
ced a person nearby, and no sounds indicated she was anything but alone in the solar.

  As she neared the nursery, the chambers belonging to Andre were still. The door was ajar. She could see the dim light of the fire warming his room, but there were no other indications of human presence. She had to stay alert. It would be no problem for her to explore her surroundings, but not all of those around her would have good intentions if she were caught alone and unaware.

  The door to the nursery was shut, and she could hear nothing from within. She sighed in disappointment. She did not want to get close to his children and then leave, but something drew her to them. Maybe it was for the best. Rayne returned quickly to her room after peeking into the empty rooms separating hers from the nursery, and then tried her best to get some sleep.

  ****

  Andre waited. He was atop the castle wall near the gatehouse where only a small section of the wall was left undone. He rubbed his hands together and then pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders to ward off the chill. The work should be finished within a fortnight, much sooner than expected, and the castle would be secure.

  He felt at home in the stone dwelling. The tower containing the great hall and the solar was still wood with a stone floor, but would be converted to all stone as his next project. The original tower, now long gone, had been built up on the top of a mound, which was common with early English castles. He had visited other strongholds recently, and saw they had leveled the mound when rebuilding the donjon, but that was not the case with Cuxton. When the first donjon was torn down, part of the mound was dug out and the new dwelling sat nestled against what was left. The earth butted against the building added extra insulation in the winter months. Wood was too vulnerable, though. He wanted stone wherever possible. Once the entire building was stronger, he would feel more secure.

  Many Norman castles went up under the reign of William the First. Cuxton Castle had not been a priority to William the First, but Rufus had demanded he finish. He was away from court and town-life, but Andre loved the lands near Rochester and saw no reason to be closer to London. As a knight, his oath was his word, and he was loyal to William Rufus, as he had promised the late king William, but the less he had to do with the current king the better.

  Andre peered down at the order he had created. His men knew their jobs, and his most able knights kept the lower orders in line with few problems. He had two barracks on either side of the outer bailey near the far walls, and twice as many soldiers as he needed. Unrest was in the air, and he had children to think about. The outbuildings were secure within the curtain walls, and the village beyond the castle walls counted on Andre and his men for protection. He took no chances. These soldiers did not always have the best character, but they knew to serve him well and they knew what he expected. Otherwise, they could seek employment elsewhere.

  William was a strange king and nothing like his father. He was unpopular and feared a revolt was in the works. His tax increases were outrageous, and his hold on the country was cool and aloof. Rufus was right to fear revolt. It was at hand. There were many landowners ready to usurp him in favor of his brother, Robert. Andre could not blame them. William Rufus was a vile man and ruled by whim and want rather than by the standards of his father. Now, Rufus had sent Rayne, and Andre had no idea what to make of her behavior.

  Rayne was cousin to the king. Andre needed a wife, but only because he needed sons. His first wife had thrown herself from the top of the unfinished wall two years before in a fit of madness, leaving her children behind — children who were not his. He did not want another wife like Geva. His wishes, however, also involved a secure union to ensure the safety of those boys. Andre's job was to accept Rayne as his wife, and find out the mind behind the revolt against the king.

  Even worse, he knew the king disliked her for some reason. While Rufus had not come right out and said anything definitive, Andre was left with the feeling that the king was happy to be rid of her. Now Rayne was Andre's problem. She was beautiful, but his first wife had been also. It had meant nothing in the end. Now, he wanted stability. Rayne seemed to be everything but that. At the same time, despite her behavior, he sensed her mind was sound.

  He watched Michael running across the bailey, and guessed the man had found Rayne as requested. Michael reported to him as soon as he went up the steps within the tower. "Milord, she was up and about. She neared the nursery and then retreated to her room."

  Andre nodded. "I feel almost sorry for the lady. It seems she has something painful in her past, but she will get used to life here soon enough. Just see to it she does not try to leave the castle walls."

  Michael nodded and then continued, "Milord she will remain within. I assure you. Do you still think she is trying to be sent out?"

  "Aye, but… she will be fine," Andre said with a wave of his hand. "Let her roam the castle. The lady will be living here whether she likes it or not. I have to do as the king bade, and she is nothing more than a distraction at the moment. Remain watchful of her activities so she does not leave. The king is in a rather malicious mood. He may wed her to a brute that does her in, or even worse, throw her in a dungeon and forget about her should she go back."

  "But, milord, she is bound to figure out I am watching her."

  "'Tis no matter. Like any Lady, she needs protection. She’ll think you are simply handling your duties," Andre brushed him off with a snap in his voice. "She will remain and we will wed. 'Tis done."

  "I'll see to it, milord."

  "I am a man of my word, and this marriage is what I asked for. Be gone now."

  Michael nodded.

  After Michael left, Andre strolled slowly along the top of the wall as he did each night after supper. Someone else would take on the responsibility of overseeing the evening patrol when construction was done, but for now, he felt better doing it himself. He thought of the vision he had beheld when Rayne came down the steps to dine. This time she was clean. Andre had to admit she was radiant. A man in search of a wife would be elated to have her, but he could only think of his failure with his first wife.

  Geva's death had not been a total surprise. She had never adjusted to Cuxton, and he had never connected with her. He'd grown to love her children though. They came with her, their father having died of lung fever when they were only babies. Most of the servants were frightened of her, though not because she was cruel. She fought with something he could not understand and had taken her own life. He hadn't been able to make her happy. Rufus had commanded he keep the children. Andre's affection for them made it easy to obey.

  Rayne was an enigma to him, but one best studied slowly. He did not want to fail her as he had Geva, but he was helpless in understanding. In a fit of frustration, he had jumped into the moat with Rayne in his arms, only to show her he was in charge. Otherwise, he was at a loss. She trembled near him yet defied him purposely.

  She was like a breath of fresh air, but she was so preoccupied she jumped when the wind blew. He instinctively knew she would not want his pity, but that was all he felt for her at first. Pity. William the Conqueror had been her uncle, yet she was as impoverished and used as the native English the Normans had vanquished. He could see to making it a good life for her, but he was unsure how to connect with any woman. Perhaps his first wife's death was the ultimate insult. He was not worth sticking around for. Her death had affected him deeply, and he saw no reason for that kind of pain again. The pain was not about loving her so much, as it was having failed her.

  Now he would wait for answers he could provide to the king, and be as patient with Rayne as he could. He would see through his plan to alert the king to anything he could unearth. As far as Rayne, she could bear him children and then be left to raising them. He longed for children to fill his home, children of his own. A wife was a necessary evil. She was a beauty. At least he could thank William for that. But what start to a marriage would they have when she obviously did not want to be there, and he had no idea how to connect with her?


  Chapter Six

  Rayne was staring out over the landscape when Odo de Bayeux arrived. She could see the full outer bailey from her perch and was counting the apple trees in the orchard far to her right when the drawbridge fell to welcome visitors. While exploring Cuxton, she had found a small window in the passageway just beyond her room. It faced the main gate. From there she had picked out the blacksmith, the candle maker, and even the small shed the gardener used to store the tools of his trade.

  She tensed as she watched the party of twenty-odd men enter the bailey. Even while squinting she could not see the faces, but she knew the banner of Odo well. Odo was uncle to the king, to her a distant cousin. When in London, he had often taken great sport in leisurely activities with her late husband. He was a man of God, but ambitious, brash, and loud. He was a baron of great lands, and his loyalty to William Rufus was often rumored to be false.

  As she watched the party make haste to the stables, Andre moved to welcome his guests. His confident gait was quick and easy. He must have known they were coming. She was relieved for she yearned for a calm day. Surprises were great once in a while, but she was tired of being caught unaware.

  As unpleasant as Odo could be, this visit could prove to be an opportunity. Maybe he would take pity on her and help her get back to London. Sighing, Rayne turned from the window. Of course that would not do. Odo would not care much for the plight of a woman. He wouldn't risk the ire of William Rufus and Andre, and she would be right back where she started. There was another idea she could not use.

  With a shrug, she made her way back down to her chambers and sat on her bed. It was midday. She had eaten just an hour before, and Andre had been absent. Rayne was desperately trying to think of new ways to annoy him so he would send her on her way. A twinge of guilt ate away at her. He had been kind. Never once had he screamed at her or raised a fist to her. Even their swim in the moat was now more amusing to her than anything else. Her quarters were cozy, and she wanted for nothing.