Redefining Rayne

by Amy Mullen

  Chapter Nine

  As darkness fell, Rayne left the empty hall and proceeded up the steps to her chambers. Tillie was not there, so she stoked the fire in her hearth and sat on the floor in front of it, contemplating her next move.

  Her emotions were out of control. Admitting it was hard, but she was growing fond of Andre. This was the biggest mistake she could make. She had to find a way to leave. It would be a bit painful to go, thinking of what might have been. A small sound behind her caught her attention. She stood quickly. Standing at the door to her room was a young boy, no more than four or five years old.

  He stared at her with large, bright, blue eyes. His blond hair curled about his angelic face, and a smear of mud ran up his right cheek. He studied her. Rayne did not know what to do. The boy was soon joined by another — almost a carbon copy of the first. The shining eyes of each sparkled with mischief.

  "You must be Jenri and Hamon," she said and took a small step toward them. They both stepped back. Neither said a word, but glanced at each other and then back at her.

  Intrigued, she tried again. "Do you know who I am? My name is Lady Rayne. Lord Andre told me all about you. Do you know anything about me?"

  The older boy nodded slowly, his chin quivering. Rayne stopped her advance. He was obviously curious but scared of her. Before she could say another word, a voice softly called out their names and they raced down the hallway and were gone.

  Alone again, Rayne sat on her bed. Her hands were shaking violently, and a lump formed in her chest. She had done all she could to avoid young children since the loss of her own. It was too painful to be near them. These boys were adorable, and she wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around them and squeeze them. Rayne wondered if Geva had been English, as the boys had the blond hair and blue eyes of the natives. She then remembered her own blonde hair and the blue rimming her grey eyes. She too appeared English, but was not.

  How she envied them those blue eyes. The blue in her own was there only to tease her, rimming the grey, barely visible. She hated the grey. The boys had eyes the color of a mid-summer sky. Rayne had often dreamt of what her babies would have grown to look like. She had wished them to have eyes of that same color.

  "Milady!" Tillie said, skidding to a halt in the doorway just recently vacated by the boys.

  "Goodness!" Rayne's hand flew up to her chest over her racing heart. "You scared me witless."

  Catching her breath, the older woman came further into the room. "I apologize if I frightened you. I feared you were…"

  "Aye?" Rayne said, confused.

  "Nothing," she said and shook her head, "I fear my head is full of silly fantasies these days. I imagined you in distress, 'tis all."

  "I am fine, though I must say I am a bit shaken. I saw the boys. They came to the door just before you arrived."

  Tillie threw more wood into the hearth, which was now blazing, and fetched a smock for Rayne without a word.

  "Is something amiss?" Rayne asked.

  "Oh no, dear. It has been a long day."

  She prodded no further. "Indeed it has. Sleep sounds wonderful. No bath this night."

  ****

  A bit later, down the hallway, Andre sat in the nursery with the nursemaid, Aliza, talking about his day with the tired boys.

  "She is pretty," Hamon piped up as he allowed the nursemaid to dry him after his bath.

  "Aye, she is," Aliza murmured as she tried to rub dry the boy's unruly curls. "I think your father may have found a lovely lady to take to wife."

  Andre studied the nursemaid. She was young and slender, curving where God meant her to, but she left him cold. When she had first arrived, he had contemplated bedding her, but only for a moment. She was delightful with the children, but mostly because she was like them. Aliza was immature for her age, and he feared she was a bit daft.

  However, she was good with the children, and she kept them safe and cared for, which was all he asked. Aliza's mind was sound, but conversation was stilted. Was he so desperate to take a wife and have children of his own he considered any woman who came his way? He knew now that was not the right way to go, and he cursed himself for those thoughts when she had first arrived. He had never been desperate for anyone or anything in his life, but his need to have children was now a priority.

  That had been years ago. The girl was more like a daughter than a potential wife. She took over more care of the children as Geva faded into her madness, and he was grateful to her for that reason. She would always have a home at Cuxton because of her kindness to the boys. Aliza stayed out of his way and kept up with the shy but energetic children with the ease of someone so young.

  "Aye, she is a beauty, children," he said, speaking of Rayne as he tucked Jenri, already bathed and dressed, into his bed. "She is a nice lady too, though she is a bit scared of being here."

  "Was I scared when I came here?" asked Hamon. He was but a toddler when he arrived and did not remember, but he knew he was not born at Cuxton.

  "Nay, you were a fine, brave boy, and your brother was the same."

  "I wish I could remember," Hamon said.

  "No need to dwell on those things. You are here now, and you will stay. You have my word."

  Hamon struggled to put on his nightclothes. "Can we have a story?"

  "Certainly," said Aliza. "What would you like to hear?"

  "I want Father to tell us again about William!"

  Andre's heart sang when the boy called him father. At the same time, melancholy swept over him. Under his roof now resided a woman meant to be his wife, who excited him in every way and could give him more children, children of his bloodline, and yet the future seemed unsure. If these were the only sons he had, he would be blessed. They would have the best he could give them.

  "William," he said, "let's begin."

  Hamon clapped his hands together and crawled into his bed. Andre sat back as Aliza left the room. "I shall return shortly," she said.

  "William was a brave man. He was promised England by the Saxon king, Edward the Confessor. Upon his death, however, they refused him what he felt was his."

  As Andre talked, the children slowly drifted to sleep, struggling to stay up to hear the story. When he finished, they were both asleep, and Aliza had returned. He gave her a brief nod as he exited the nursery to go to his desk. He had a letter to write to William Rufus. Briefly he remembered the end of William's story, how the king had died and how Andre had been unable to save him. His loyalty to William's son was absolute, his promise to a dying king to stand by the next one.

  Now, he had another to protect — Rayne. She was an enigma, whereas William the First had been upfront and open. He had to keep digging so he knew what to do to protect her fragile heart and make her happy. One failure was enough, and he could not protect her if he did not know what to protect her from. His promise to William on his deathbed was sound, but he could not discount how William Rufus treated Rayne. This time, there would be no deathbed, no lady leaping from the wall. This time, he would do it right.

  Chapter Ten

  Nearly a week later, Rayne was getting frustrated. She was no closer to going home than she had been when she arrived. Things were becoming more complicated by the day as her affection for Andre grew. As she spent more time with the boys, they were becoming dear to her as well.

  Hamon and Jenri were indeed as sweet as they appeared. It took them both a few days to come to her willingly, but they had. Hamon was full of questions about where she had come from and what her life was like before arriving at Cuxton. She did her best to answer those questions in a way that would not offend their tender ears. Jenri never spoke, but he eagerly listened as she told them stories.

  Andre had been patient and kind, though he seemed preoccupied with Odo. They rode out many times, coming back hours later. Andre always looked upset and Odo seemed oblivious to his host's mood. Rayne was becoming increasingly wary of Odo. He seemed to ignore her around Andre, yet would find a way to run into her
when no one else was about other than Tillie. Something about the way he looked at her sent a feeling of dread to the pit of her stomach.

  As if fate were laughing at her, she ran into him while out near the stables. Odo was sitting with a few soldiers, trading battle stories and draining ale mugs. He rose when she neared. After a quick bow, he smiled but it failed to light up his eyes. She felt sick being so near him.

  "To what do I owe this great honor, milady?" he said.

  Putting on a brave smile, she tilted her head up and said, "I came to see the horses, 'tis all. I spent the morning with the candle maker. Interesting work, is it not?"

  "Indeed," Odo said as he stood. "I think a walk is in order. We should speak."

  "There isn't far to go," she said, desperately trying to think of an excuse to be gone, but not even a paltry excuse came to mind. "Perhaps a short one would not hurt."

  Glancing up at the wall, she saw they would be in view of the soldiers above most of the time, so she felt safe enough. They started to stroll, and she felt sicker by the minute. A sense of foreboding enveloped her. "So how long are you staying?"

  Odo reached up and stroked his beard for a moment with his free hand before answering. "I should be departing soon. Big things are happening, and I have places to be. The winds of change blow, which means 'tis time for me to move on."

  "Big things?"

  "Never mind, sweetheart, 'tis nothing a woman such as yourself should worry about."

  His words were a reminder of why he rubbed her the wrong way. "Surely something big would affect everyone, aye?"

  A hearty laugh escaped Odo's lips. "You are something else, dear. I suppose there is some wisdom in that. Still, none of your concern I assure you."

  "Does it have to do with William Rufus?"

  Odo hesitated. His steps halted, and she almost tripped. They were near the orchard now. Tiny green buds appeared along with new leaves already sprouting. Rayne focused on them, hoping she had not said the wrong thing. She questioned her decision to walk without Tillie nearby. Where was she?

  He recovered and pulled her along. "Why would you say that? Change does not always mean trouble is coming. 'Twas just an observation, nothing more."

  Shrugging, she tried to appear nonchalant. "It's a simple matter of wishing to know if I am safe here."

  Stopping again, Odo faced her. "You plan to marry him then? Such a beauty you are, Rayne, why would you settle for such a weak man? Surely there are richer, more powerful barons who would have you."

  His answer puzzled her. She had no say in the matter, which had been the problem all along. "I must do as the king bids, Odo."

  "Andre's first marriage ended badly. Does that not worry you?"

  Rayne paused as she realized she and Odo had already had this conversation, yet he did not seem to remember. She continued, playing along, in the hopes of learning something he may have held back before.

  "Did you know, Geva, his wife? I remember her, but 'tis all so vague now. I do not think I ever spoke to her but a few times. Did you know her well?" she asked.

  "Geva was weak. 'Twas her mind. I was here not long before she threw herself from the wall."

  "Are you sure? You know some suggest Andre did it," she said.

  Odo laughed. "Surely you cannot think he could do that? Nay, she was as mad as an injured bull. She was never right, she never made any sense, and something was eating away at her. 'Twas only a matter of time for that one. Besides, Andre values his loyalty to the king overmuch. Rufus sent her so he was determined to do right by her."

  "So I have nothing to fear?" she asked.

  "I know why you may think that, but no, Rayne. He'll not hurl you from the wall."

  Relief flooded her mind, and she almost forgot she was looking for a reason to leave, not a reason to stay. Odo was untrustworthy at best, but his words seemed sincere enough. Actually, his opinion did not matter. She already knew Andre would not harm her.

  She had to get away from Odo. "You'll be going soon then I suppose. Shall we head back?"

  "Back?" he said, taking her by the waist and pushing her against the wall.

  Fear flickered across her features as she wondered what he was about.

  "I thought you wanted a stroll, to spend some time alone with me," Odo said."

  He leaned in to kiss her but she dodged him. "Odo, please, no!"

  "Tease!" He laughed as he pulled her close to him. Rayne put her hands on his chest in an attempt to push away.

  "Please, Odo, stop!"

  "Shh…" he said. "Just a taste for old Odo, aye? Have pity. I am a man of God and most only see me as such. I have needs the same as any man, you know."

  Panic took over in earnest as he forced his mouth on hers. He shoved his tongue between her lips and bile rose from her stomach and burned her throat. Pushing as hard as she could, she managed to move him, but only a few inches back. It was for naught, as he pressed against her again as she struggled.

  Then, she heard a thud, and he was gone.

  Too scared to open her eyes, Rayne stood still with arms out where they were once pushing him away.

  "Milady! Come!" It was Tillie.

  Rayne opened one eye and then the other. Tillie stood before her, a plank of wood in her hands, her eyes wide.

  "Oh Tillie! What have you done?" she cried.

  "I'm your chaperone, aye? I did my job. Let's go before he awakes."

  Needing no further urging, Rayne took off. Tillie threw the board down and followed her. They did not stop running until they entered the hall. A few curious eyes watched their progress, but Odo did not follow.

  They sat before the hearth after catching their breath. Rayne shook, wondering if he would burst in, bellowing in a rage, but he did not come.

  "Tillie! You struck a man! What is Andre going to say?"

  "I stopped that lout from whatever it was he planned to do, that is what I did," Tillie said with a sniff. "You can thank me for it later."

  "He'll tell Andre! I cannot imagine what he will do when he finds out you bashed Odo's head in with a plank."

  "Milady." Tillie took her hand. "You place too little value on a man’s pride. Do you think Odo wants to admit he was overcome by lust and derailed by two women? He will not say a word."

  For a moment, Rayne considered what Tillie said. "Come up to my quarters with me. I need a new direction. Nothing is working as I planned."

  "Plans are often for naught." Tillie shook her head. "Because life happens whilst you make them."

  "Just come," Rayne said. Flustered, she ran to the stairs and up to her room. She did not look back, but she heard Tillie following.

  Once in her room, she closed the door and tossed off her cloak. It landed in a heap on the floor. She spun around and nearly knocked Tillie over.

  "Ah, nothing is working. Odo sticks his nasty tongue in my mouth. Andre is kind, and I am starting to like him. My plans all fail. Before I know it, I shall be wed and pregnant, and then, the worst will happen. Tillie, for the love of all that his holy, please help me."

  "Milady," the older woman spoke softly, "things happen as they should. Do you not realize that by now?"

  "Really? You mean my children died for a reason? That was as it was supposed to be? Please, Tillie, tell me more about how that works."

  "I did not mean that. What I meant was you are supposed to be here. Don't you see that yet? Admit it, you like Andre. You are drawn to him, aye?"

  "Please don't ask me that."

  "And the children? What of them?"

  "They are not my worry. I am fond of them, but I cannot allow that to drag me into marriage. I have to find a way out. Rufus will not let me out of this marriage contract without a good reason. He won't unless Andre asks, and even then, he may not allow it. Mayhap I will have to run away to join a convent. Surely someone would take me."

  "Not without the permission of a male relative, you know that, milady."

  "I could lie."

  "That is not the answer
, and 'twill not work anyway. You cannot see that as the only hope for your life."

  Rayne sat on her bed. Bending forward, she rested her head in her hands. A minute later, she pulled her head up and stared out the window. "I think I shall sleep now, if you don't mind."

  "We've not had supper," Tillie said. "'Tis still early."

  "Leave me be, please."

  ****

  Hours later, she regretted going to bed so early. She had allowed herself a moment to feel sorry for herself before she shook it off, and then she fell asleep before the sun set. The moon was high and bright in the sky, and she could not get back to sweet oblivion. Unable to stay abed a moment longer, Rayne rose, wrapped herself in a cloak, and stood at the window. Silvery light bathed everything before her, and the landscape took her breath away. Other than the low hum of the nighttime insects and shadowy men treading atop the curtain walls on patrol, the darkness was remarkably still and peaceful.

  If only things were different, she would love to make a life at Cuxton. She could make a life with Andre. Unwilling or unable to admit it, she was more aware of him than ever. Her stomach knotted as she remembered how his lips felt on hers and how she had felt a huge loss when the kiss was over. She was undeniably drawn to him in ways she did not understand.

  Now, not only did she worry about what a pregnancy would do to her, she worried what it would do to him. He doted on the boys, and Hamon and Jenri were quite taken with him. They were not his though, and she knew a man like Andre wanted his bloodline to carry on. She could be quite happy being mum to those boys, but that would never be enough for him.

  Breaking away from her thoughts, she decided to take a walk. She dressed, put her cloak back on, and then headed out into the passageway outside her room. No one was there so she ventured down the stairs, through the hall where the snores of the sleeping servants greeted her, and then out the door. She found Michael near the door of the great hall and asked for his care as she took a quick stroll. If Odo found her alone, she could only imagine what he might do.