The Marriage Priza

by Virginia Henley

  Though she smiled, Rosamond clenched her teeth when he announced so cavalierly that she was soon to become Lady de Leyburn.

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  She wanted to kick his shins for such barefaced arrogance, but restrained her impulse to attack him until they could be alone.

  As her eyes traveled over the servants, Rosamond thought them a sorry lot compared with Kenilworth's clean, industrious staff. When her glance fell upon the red-faced cook, she raised her chin. "I am so pleased to see you up and about, madam," she said. "I shall come to inspect Pershore's kitchen in an hour's time, and trust you will have the evening meal well under way by then. Until I choose a replacement for you, I am afraid you'll have to manage without Edna. She will be assisting my tiring-woman with my personal things." Rosamond's glance dismissed the cook and she raised her eyes to the others. "The rest of you can start cleaning. Pershore needs stripping and scouring, chamber by chamber. If your work pleases me, I may retain your services; otherwise you will be turned out." She looked pointedly at two male servants. "I want a fire lit in every room. Thank you, that will be all for now."

  After they all filed out, Nan picked up a bag and indicated that Edna do the same. "We'll return these to the chamber you chose last night."

  When Rosamond and Sir Rodger were completely alone, Rosamond tossed her hair back over her shoulder in a gesture of defiance, though she spoke with exaggerated meekness. "I beg your permission to speak, my lord."

  Rod's eyes filled with laughter. "I might intimidate the rest of them, but not you, my Rosebud. I warrant now that we are alone, you will speak your mind whether I give you permission or not."

  "Well, since I am so soon to become Lady de Leyburn, I might as well start out as I mean to carry on." Her sarcasm was tart.

  "If I am to have full authority and have them obey my orders, and ultimately yours, you know full well I had to inform them I would be the new master here."

  Rosamond said with mock solemnity, "If your work pleases me, I may retain your services; otherwise you will be turned off."

  "You were magnificent," he said with a grin.

  She suddenly wished he had seen her yesterday when she had swept the dishes from the table and threatened to maim the cook with

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  the copper ladle. "I realize now that you had to threaten the steward with hanging to make him obey."

  The amusement left his eyes. "No, Rosamond, that was no threat. I do intend to hang Dymock."

  "I won't have his death on my conscience, not for insolence!"

  He led her back to the padded settle before the fire, then leaned against the mantelpiece. "My orders are on my conscience, not yours. But perhaps it is best that you hold your own court and try him legally. That way the verdict will be the same, but your conscience will be clear."

  She searched his face. "I don't understand."

  Rod hesitated for a fraction of a second, loathing to strip away her innocence, then decided he had little choice but to begin her education. "Rosamond, the management of Pershore and its lands has been left in the hands of a corrupt steward whose sole purpose has been to enrich himself at the expense of not only you, but your tenants. You know the despair you felt at his hands, but can you imagine the horror he has imposed upon those who work your land?"

  "Oh, no! How negligent I have been."

  "You were not to know; it is Gloucester who has been negligent. Lord Edward and I were guilty of the same sort of laxity. When we returned from the Continent and began visiting his royal castles, we discovered a number of the stewards had been enriching themselves by making slaves of the tenants. Not only were they being worked to death, they also were being starved, beaten, raped, and even hanged at the whim of the men in charge. It is no wonder that so many people in England hate their king and his family and are turning to Simon de Montfort for their salvation."

  "Were you able to right the wrongs of these corrupt stewards?"

  "Yes. Before we embarked on the Welsh campaign, I spent an entire year traveling to Edward's royal holdings, appointing trustworthy men to positions of authority, and meting out just punishment to those who had committed unconscionable crimes."

  "Sir Rodger, will you do that here at Pershore?"

  "My lady, I am honor-bound."

  Rosamond remembered the last time he had said those words to her, and how coldly she had rejected him. She knew it would be ungra-

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  cious of her if she did not thank him. "Sir Rodger, I appreciate your help in bringing the Pershore staff under control." She doubted that he was helping her because he cared for her. Most likely he wanted to improve the value of the property he would gain through marriage to her. Clearly, he had become an authority figure to the servants, but Rosamond did not want him to try to assume authority over her, for she was certainly not willing to submit to his wishes. She lifted her chin, determined to show him they were equals. "There is no reason why we cannot be friends, my lord," she said loftily.

  Rod smiled at her, but he was careful not to touch her. Before he was done, she would crave his touch. He silently vowed they would be far more than friends, more even than husband and wife; they would be lovers. "Later today, once your horses have been recovered and Dymock is safely locked up, I will ride to Worcester Castle, which is only seven or eight miles from Pershore, and bring back a staff who will soon have your household restored and running efficiently. I will also bring men-at-arms who will guard your property and hold it secure in your name."

  "Sir Rodger, are you sure Worcester will lend us their people?"

  Rod laughed. "Worcester is a royal castle, and I am a royal steward. I have the authority to use Worcester's resources as I see fit."

  "Forgive my ignorance, my lord." The tone of her voice deliberately held an edge. "Will it be possible for you to return today?" Rosamond did not wish to reveal the anxiety she felt at the thought of staying at Pershore without him.

  "I will leave Griffin with you—you may entrust him with your life, and I promise to return today, no matter how late the hour."

  Relief washed over her, but determined to hide it, Rosamond said coolly, "Thank you, my lord. I sincerely appreciate your aid in this matter."

  ******************

  At Kenilworth, Simon de Montfort was experiencing some anxiety of his own. Rumors were beginning to reach him that King Henry had no intention of returning to England in time for the February Parliament, and without the king's presence there could be no Parliament. Earl Simon had many informants who traveled with the king's court in

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  Europe, and it took only four days for merchant vessels to sail from the Continent and bring messages to England.

  The institution of regular sessions of Parliament was the first and foremost of the Provisions of Oxford, but obviously it was the provision that stung Henry's colossal pride the most. Until now, calling a session of Parliament had been solely the king's prerogative. He had had time to recover from the panic that had made him sign the Provisions, and now he wanted to rule personally once again, without a council dictating to him.

  Simon was furious. He knew Henry would use the French treaty as a last-minute pretext for not returning in time for Parliament. So before the king wrote to the justiciar, the marshal, and his other nobles, asking for a postponement, Earl Simon decided to forestall him and write to the nobles himself, summoning them to London for the Candlemas Parliament in February. He assured them that Lord Edward Planta-genet, heir to the throne, would be at his side.

  Simon hoped Rodger de Leyburn would return to Kenilworth soon. That persuasive young man would be indispensable in helping him to convince Lord Edward to replace the king in Parliament, if Henry did indeed refuse to return in time.

  Alyce de Clare was furious that de Leyburn had taken himself off without so much as a by-your-leave. With Rod absent, it was impossible for her to spend the night with Edward, so it was pointless for her to remain at Kenilworth under Eleanor de Montfort's contemptuous ga
ze.

  ******************

  Alyce scribbled a note for her lover and gave it to his squire, Owen, since he was the only one she dared to trust.

  Mon Amour,

  I shall persuade Richard to return to Gloucester, but shall proceed to London and stay at Westminster in my fathers apartments. I wish you would return to Windsor before Christmas, so we could spend it together, but if not, I will come to you whenever you send word.

  It was an arrangement they had used before. As well as access to Westminster, Alyce often enjoyed carte blanche at the numerous de Clare castles close to London, without the presence of her odious young husband.

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  She and Gilbert hated the sight of each other and were happiest when they were separated by a goodly distance. Alyce was alarmed that Edward was allying himself with Simon de Montfort, though she was far too wise to voice her objection to her lover. Instead, she would voice it to her father-in-law, Richard de Clare, when the opportunity presented itself.

  The following day, Edward hid his amusement when Richard de Clare bade him farewell. "I've absented myself from Gloucester for far too long. Gilbert has decided to stay on awhile—he hero-worships Simon, you know—but duty calls me. You must come and stay with us at Gloucester and sample our hospitality."

  "Thank you for your generous offer, Richard; I have every intention of sampling it one day soon."

  ******************

  At Pershore, Rosamond tasted each of the dishes set before her. The food was good, and she was able to enjoy it because she had inspected the kitchen and found it clean and tidy. Rosamond and Nan sat alone at the head table, while the household servants sat much farther down the hall. "I give credit where it is due, they have earned their dinner today."

  Nan replied, "The change in attitude is amazing. It is difficult to believe it was only yesterday we were treated like dirt beneath their feet. We owe it all to Sir Rodger."

  "Yes, a royal steward has a great deal of power and authority."

  "My lady, even if he had no such office, the result would be the same, I warrant. It is the man they are obeying, not the office."

  "Yes, it is a man's world—I will never doubt that again. All the power is in their hands."

  "If a woman is fortunate enough to marry a powerful man, and clever enough to hold that man in the palm of her hand, she gains all his power for herself," Nan pointed out.

  "That is certainly what Lady Eleanor de Montfort has done, and I know what you are trying to tell me, Nan; I'm not oblivious to the fact that I am betrothed to Sir Rodger de Leyburn."

  Nan smiled knowingly. "He reminds you of it every time he looks at you with those devilish green eyes. Surely he sets your pulses racing and heats your blood, my lamb?"

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  "He does not!" Rosamond declared, yet an inner voice called her a liar.

  "Have you ever noticed the marked resemblance between Sir Rodger and Sir Rickard de Burgh?" Nan asked innocently.

  "Yes ... no ... I don't know what you're talking about."

  "I'm talking about their bodies—shoulders so wide and powerful, they make a female feel faint, hair blacker than midnight, eyes like green pools of temptation a woman would willingly drown in, and the same rich, dark laugh that makes your very spine tingle. Both are wickedly handsome warriors who could lure any lady to wantonness."

  Rosamond tried to picture Rickard de Burgh, but it was Rodger de Leyburn who rose up vividly in her mind, completely obliterating her ability to conjure the older knight, who until recently had filled all of her daydreams and fantasies. She shivered, for Rod de Leyburn was real flesh and blood, not some ephemeral fancy.

  Just as she drained her wine goblet, Griffin, accompanied by Ned, came into the hall with news. "My lady, your horses have been safely returned. Ned has just fed and watered them."

  "Oh, how wonderful! My palfrey means so much to me; I would dearly love to see her. Has darkness yet fallen?"

  "Yes, my lady, it is dark outside, but I will light your way, you need have no fear," Griffin assured her. "But you will need a warm cloak, for the night is bitter cold."

  "I will fetch your cloak, my lady," Ned said. "You will be so pleased at the condition of the stables." He almost ran from the hall.

  "Griffin, you and Ned must stay and eat; I can visit the stables tomorrow."

  "We are both eager for you to see the vast improvements in Per-shore's stable. We will both enjoy our food better after we have seen the pleasure in your eyes."

  Such a concept startled Rosamond. The very notion that her happiness could bring them pleasure made her feel quite special.

  When she arrived at the stable, flanked by Griffin and Ned, her heart overflowed with affection for her little palfrey, and Nimbus greeted her with a soft nicker and a nuzzle. As Rosamond stroked the

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  filly, she breathed in the clean smell of soap and fresh hay. "I can hardly believe what has been accomplished."

  "Sir Rodger has been known to move mountains, my lady."

  Rosamond laughed. Griffin had an earthy sense of humor, for indeed Sir Rodger had moved mountains of horse dung. As she crossed the bailey, she lifted her eyes to the brilliant stars. There was no cloud cover tonight and it was cold enough for frost. She pulled her purple cloak closer about her and thought of de Leyburn. Surely he would not rout people from the warmth of Worcester Castle tonight. Nay, he had told her he would return today to keep her from being afraid. Likely it was done in kindness, yet she didn't appreciate being treated like a child.

  She glanced about nervously. Where was the brutish stableman this night, or the men of Pershore who had been drunk in the bailey? The pockmarked face of Dymock rose up in the dark and she felt her fingers tremble as they clutched her cloak. She liked Griffin very much, and Sir Rodger had told her she could trust him with her life, but Rosamond knew she would not feel secure tonight without de Leyburn's protective presence.

  The entire wing of Pershore where Rosamond had her bedchamber had been scoured and cleaned, and each room had been aired by its own fire, so tonight Rosamond had her own private quarters. Nan took an adjoining room, while Ned would sleep in the knights' quarters with Griffin.

  As Rosamond readied herself for bed, she imagined her chamber as it would be once improvements had been made. She visualized a plush carpet on the floor and rich, artistic tapestries upon the walls. A rug and cushions before the fireplace would lend a cozy atmosphere, and deep-red hangings about the high window would make the room feel both warmer and safer. Rosamond loved vivid colors. Her hand caressed her crimson bed curtains and goosedown quilt, their familiarity bringing a measure of comfort, as she silently thanked Lady Eleanor for suggesting that she bring her own bedding.

  She went to the window searching for some sign of de Leyburn, but other than the stars, she could see only blackness outside. She climbed into bed and the incredible events of the day replayed themselves in

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  her mind. Rosamond didn't believe she had ever fainted before in her life, and could not explain how her trampling dream had overtaken her senses while she was fully awake. She told herself that the events leading up to it must have taken an emotional toll on her. The terrifying black horse must be a symbol of her fears threatening to overwhelm her. If she conquered her fears, she wondered if the trampling dream would stop.

  Eventually her eyelids became heavy and she began to drift down into sleep. In the distance there was a low rumble. Thunder? No, it was far too cold for thunder. It was more like the drumming of hoofbeats on the frozen ground, coming ever closer. A wave of stark terror swept over Rosamond, snatching her breath away....

  ******************

  At Worcester, Sir Rodger de Leyburn received a warm welcome. The castle had always been a royal stronghold, where he and Edward had entertained the young Marcher barons of Hay, Clifford, Wigmore, and Ludlow. During the previous year, most of the old barons had died off, leaving their castles and titles to sons who were appro
ximately the same age as Lord Edward.

  From Worcester Castle's vast staff, Sir Rodger selected a dozen household servants he intended to put in charge at Pershore. He also picked land stewards to oversee the tenant farms, and chose guards for its walls and grooms for its stables. To replace Dymock, he picked a man called Hutton, who was Worcester's under-steward. Rod promised that his wife, Lizzy Hutton, could be head housekeeper in charge of the other maids. She was so flattered that she helped him cull some of Worcester Castle's royal furnishings to help replenish Pershore.

  By the time the wagons were loaded, it was time for the evening meal at Worcester. Rod put Hutton in complete charge and told him that tomorrow would be a better time for the eight-mile journey to Pershore. Though the night was bitter cold, Rod had assured Rosamond that he would return, no matter how late the hour, and it never occurred to him to do otherwise. He had left Griffin in charge, but the responsibility for Rosamond's safety was far too heavy for one lone squire. Pershore harbored more than a few disgruntled servants who had been allowed to rule the roost.

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  When he arrived at Pershore's stables, it was after ten. He gave Stygian a thorough rubdown, then led him to a stall that had been made ready with clean straw. As Rod offered his horse a handful of fresh hay, his eyes traveled about the dimly lit stable with approval. His nose told him better than his eyes that his orders had been followed to the letter.

  Griffin awaited him and showed him to a chamber with a fire, a clean bed, and a supply of wine, the three things he was most in need of. Rodger learned that the missing horses had been returned, that all had remained amazingly quiet at Pershore, and that Dymock was securely locked up in a cell beneath the stillroom. Griffin indicated the account books stacked on the table and withdrew for the night.

  Rod removed his boots and heavy leather doublet, then warmed himself at the fire. When he felt that he was beginning to thaw, he poured himself a goblet of wine. His eyes fell on the account books, and he picked one up and carried it to an easy chair before the fire. Rod finished his wine before he opened the book, knowing from experience what he would find in the ledgers.