April Munday

by His Ransom

  It was five days before Rosamunde could sit a horse, with Richard and Guy anxious on either side of her. It was an effort to stay astride the horse the first day, but she was more comfortable than she had been in the cart. Richard and Guy were also in an improved humour and were soon engaged in a singing contest that took her mind from her own weakness. Now she heard the troubadour songs that Richard had refused to sing before. The langue d’oc was alien to her, but she understood the meaning of the songs, from the looks that Richard gave her as he sang rather than the words themselves. Guy was the better singer, but it was Richard’s voice that she always wanted to hear.

  They did not travel far that day and she was relieved when she could sit at ease in her pavilion and sleep a little before the evening meal. She ate with her father, Richard and Guy in the duke’s pavilion. The men sat and told stories while Rosamunde dozed, her head on Richard’s shoulder.

  “Sir Richard, will you escort my daughter to her pavilion before she falls off her stool and causes herself harm?”

  Rosamunde apologised for her poor manners, but the duke merely smiled and began to talk to Guy about improving the castle’s defences when they returned.

  Richard rose and offered her his arm and they walked out into the cool night air. It was the first time they had been alone since they had known they were to be married and they walked slowly. Rosamunde’s hand left Richard’s arm and found his hand and their fingers entwined.

  “In a few days we will be married.” Richard’s voice was soft in her ear and his breath warmed her cheek.

  “I am glad we do not have to wait long.”

  “Are you?” he stopped walking.

  “I want to be your wife, properly your wife.”

  It was dark, but Rosamunde felt that he was examining her face.

  “I want to be your husband.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “We will put the past behind us and we will make one another new.”

  She felt his breath on her forehead before he kissed her. “Perhaps in future Guy should escort you to your pavilion,” he said, setting off again quickly, still holding her hand.

  “Whatever you say, my lord.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Messengers had been sent ahead to the castle and a bath awaited Rosamunde in her chamber. She had urged the duke to a faster pace over the last few days and she ached from the effort, but it did not matter. Tomorrow afternoon she would marry Richard and tomorrow night she would be his wife.

  Her maid undressed her and she lowered herself into the hot water. She washed slowly and carefully, receiving soap and lotions from her maid. The heat made her drowsy, but she knew Mary would make sure that no harm would come to her if she fell asleep in the water. She felt the pain ease away from her body and rested her head against the side of the bath. She looked around the room that she would share from tomorrow night with Richard. It was clean and the bedding was tidy. The servants would light a fire tomorrow to ensure that the room would be warm for her first night with Richard. She presumed that Margaret and the other women would hang spring flowers about the chamber to encourage fertility. It was an old custom and, although Rosamunde was not in favour of it, she would not discourage it.

  After she had finished bathing, Mary helped her to dress and she went down to the hall, where she found Henry waiting for her. He hugged her, “I’m glad you changed your mind,” he said as he released her.

  “Father changed his mind, not me. I would have married Ralf.” She stated the truth simply. It was only since his return from France that she had begun keeping secrets from her brother. She had never told him that she loved Richard.

  “And you would have been unhappy for the rest of your life.”

  “Yes,” she admitted, “It was not a wise choice.”

  Henry took her shoulders and looked down at her. Rosamunde realised with a shock that her brother was now taller than her. How had she not noticed that before? “And you are sure that this is a wise choice?”

  Rosamunde smiled. “Yes, this is the wise choice. I shall be very happy with Richard.”

  Henry removed his hands. “Yes, I can see that you believe it to be true. I would rather hear it from his own lips”

  “Then you shall.” They both turned. Richard had come into the hall and stood beside Henry. He bowed to Rosamunde and kissed her hand. Despite her best efforts, she could not hide the shiver than ran through her body. Richard smiled at her as he straightened and she knew that her desire had increased his. He did not release her hand as he turned towards Henry. “It is my intention to be a very good husband to Rosamunde. I love her. I know that isn’t everything,” he said as Henry made to protest. “But it is all I have at the moment. When I follow your father to war, I shall take prizes and we shall be rich.”

  Rosamunde saw that Henry believed him. The determination in his face could not be denied. Richard was determined to be a good husband and to succeed in his new position, whatever that might be. Rosamunde had not forgotten that Richard had no property of his own. Her dower lands were small and on one of her father’s estates. She doubted Richard would be happy for long living off his wife and his wife’s father. She knew that her father and Richard had discussed his future responsibilities on the journey home, but they had not come to any firm conclusion. Her father had not brought back much prize money from the war and there was not much to spare for them; everything must be focused on Henry and his future. Rosamunde had known and accepted that all her life, but she had expected to marry a man with property or money. Richard knew little apart from war and healing and she realised that running their small estate would be her responsibility until Richard learned how to run it himself. They would be able to live quietly and adequately. Perhaps Richard could be happy, although she doubted it. He had either to go to war or to be a healer. She did not think he would be happy for long on their small estate.

  “Ah, there you are.” They turned to see Thomas enter the room. He had not been happy to see her return and less happy when he heard the news that she was to marry Richard. Rosamunde had known for a long time that they had fought, or rather that Thomas had beaten Richard and Richard had let him. None of them had spoken of it and she assumed that they had had some kind of argument about her. She had hoped that Thomas would forget whatever antagonism he felt for Richard now that he knew how happy she was.

  Thomas bowed slightly, “Your father wishes to see you and Sir Richard in the solar.”

  They took their leave of Henry and followed Thomas. The duke was seated in his solar talking with Guy and a third man that Rosamunde did not recognise. The duke greeted them as they entered. “I had not expected Thomas to find you quite so quickly. Come, sit with me.”

  There were two chairs beside the duke and they sat. Rosamunde could not remember having seen more than one other chair in this room before. That had been for Henry, to demonstrate to everyone that he was his father’s heir.

  “This letter has come from the king today.” That answered Rosamunde’s unspoken question about the identity of the third man. He must be the king’s messenger.

  The duke handed the letter to Richard, who held it so that he and Rosamunde could both read it. It expressed the king’s dismay at the news that Sir Walter had laid siege to his neighbour’s castle and daughter while the duke was at war fighting for his king. Edward had decided to punish Sir Walter and his heirs by taking his lands under the protection of the Crown and he asked the duke to find a suitable man to look after them on his behalf. As they came to the end of the letter, Rosamunde placed her hand over Richard’s and felt him squeeze her fingers in return. They both guessed what the duke had decided.

  Richard returned the letter to the duke.

  “You see the great responsibility that my lord the king places upon me.” The duke looked inquiringly at them both.

  “Yes, my lord,” agreed Richard. “He places great trust in you.”

  “As I am about to do in you. Sir Walter’s lands are extensiv
e and most of his people will not welcome a new lord. Nonetheless, I will send you and Rosamunde to his manor to take charge of his lands on behalf of the king.”

  “I thank you my lord. I had not expected anything so generous.” Richard stood and bowed to his lord.

  “You may come to think that I have done you a great disservice. It will not be easy to run those estates, but Rosamunde is a good chatelaine and you are an honourable man and, I hope, a good soldier.”

  Richard turned to Rosamunde. “What do you think my lady?”

  “I think we shall do very well, my lord.”

  “Then I thank you once more, my lord.” Richard bowed again.

  “You show great sense, at last,” said the duke, with a smile. “It is wise to seek Rosamunde’s advice, since she is wise.”

  “I would take Rosamunde’s advice over that of any man, save yourself.” Richard bowed again and sat down.

  They spent the rest of the morning making arrangements for the wedding and writing a letter to Sir Walter’s steward. Then the discussion turned to when Richard and Rosamunde should travel to their new home. Rosamunde could not help but be apprehensive. Sir Walter’s manor was dark and plain. Apart from the unpleasant associations of her last visit, it would take a lot of work to get it to a state in which she would be happy to live. She was not afraid of the work, only of not having willing servants to assist her. Richard seemed to feel her unease and stroked her hand, hidden between them by his body.

  As time for the midday meal drew near, they were released and made their way to the hall.

  “Do not fear, my love, we will make it our home and you will not have to think about the great injustice that was done you there.”

  Rosamunde was surprised to find Richard so sensitive to her feelings and was pleased when he took her hand and pressed it to his lips.

  “I shall be happy to make my home anywhere with you,” she said and knew that it was true.

  Margaret had laid out Rosamunde’s best blue dress for her wedding. It suited her colouring and Richard had not yet seen it. Rosamunde and Margaret had spent the previous summer making it in preparation for her marriage to Simon. Rosamunde spared a final regret for his loss as Margaret helped her to slip it on, but she had to admit that she was glad to be marrying the tall Frenchman. He might not make her laugh in the way that Simon had, but one of his rare smiles made her melt inside in a way that she now knew Simon never could.

  She had decided to wear her hair uncovered and Margaret had brought flowers to make a bridal crown. The spring flowers were small, but brilliantly coloured and Margaret skilfully wove the crown so that it sat securely on top of Rosamunde’s head. At last she was ready and they made their way down to the chapel.

  It had taken Richard little time to dress. The best clothing he possessed was the tunic that Rosamunde and Margaret had made for him. Since he was so much taller than the other men in the castle, he had not been able to borrow anything more appropriate. He was irritated that he was still vain enough to want to dress to impress his bride. Guy had come to accompany him to the chapel and, Richard noticed sourly, his friend looked more fitting to the part of groom than he did.

  “Wait!” Both men turned, to see Thomas rushing down the passageway towards them. He still limped slightly from his wounds and the effort of catching them had winded him. Richard stopped, wondering whether Thomas was going to try to fight him again. He began to take a defensive position. He had not fought back before, but he would not allow Thomas to delay his marriage to Rosamunde.

  Thomas caught them up and put out a hand to steady himself against the wall. “Sir Richard, I did not get the chance yesterday to speak to you. I am told that my lady was near to death and you saved her life.” Thomas’ open face encouraged Richard.

  “I realised what was wrong with her and knew the cure.” He spoke carefully, still not sure of the other man’s purpose.

  “I was wrong to suggest that you have ever had anything other than her best interests in your heart.”

  Richard shrugged. Thomas was offering him a way back to their former friendship, but lying would not be the best way to accept his offer. “No, Thomas, you were not wrong. I have not always behaved towards Lady Rosamunde as I should and neither have my intentions always been pure, but I hope to put that right today and for the rest of my life.”

  “Your intentions,” said Thomas shrewdly, “Are between you and God and your actions are between you and my lady. If she forgives you, I can do no less.” He held out his right hand towards Richard and Richard grasped it warmly. Thomas would never be the friend that Guy had become, but he would be a good friend. The three of them continued on their way to the chapel.

  Rosamunde was surprised that the servants had been able to decorate the chapel as well as they had. They had had so little time. Going into the chapel was almost like going outside, so full was it of greenery and early spring flowers. Sweet smelling herbs scented the small space and she knew she had Margaret to thank for that. She could not keep the grin from her face as she and Richard made their promises and exchanged tokens. Now he was truly her lord and only death could separate them, although she hoped that it would be many years before that happened.

  Richard was finally able to show off his dancing skills at the feast that began that afternoon. His skill was commented on and the duke congratulated him on his grace. Rosamunde said nothing. She was happy and everything that happened only served to increase that happiness.

  She was not surprised that Richard refused most of the wine that was pressed upon him. She could not forget the tale he had told of his first wedding night and she shivered in anticipation of what they would do together. She hoped she would not disappoint him. In one thing, at least, she would meet his expectation. Richard smiled at her and she smiled back. Soon it would be time for them to be alone and they could submit to their desire.

  The duke had forbidden the worst of the old customs, so they were able to leave the feast alone. Many ribald comments were made, but Richard merely smiled and promised the men that he would have his revenge in the training yard in the morning.

  “If you can be bothered to turn up,” joked Thomas.

  Richard looked at his bride, “Perhaps not,” he agreed and kissed her lightly on the lips.

  Once they were in their chamber Richard locked the door and began to search the room.

  “What are you looking for?” asked Rosamunde, puzzled.

  “Things like this.” Richard held up some small bells that had been fastened to the blanket and hidden beneath the bed. He pulled back the sheets. “And these.” The bed was full of thistles.

  Rosamunde laughed. “How did you know?”

  “Guy told me some of your customs and I know a few French ones.” He lowered himself to his belly and looked underneath the bed. “When my brother Philippe got married I hid under the bed, thinking to frighten them at the height of their passion, but he found me and thrashed me soundly for my trouble.”

  Satisfied at last that they were not to have any disturbance in the night he took Rosamunde into his arms and kissed her. Long before he finally released her Rosamunde’s body was shaking.

  “You do not need to fear me.” Richard’s voice was gentle and she smiled.

  “I do not, my lord.”

  “I will treat you as you deserve and not as that wretch, Sir Walter. You may not come to me as we would have wished, but I will love you this night and all others.”

  Rosamunde broke away from him. “What do you mean ‘not as we would have wished’? Have I offended you in some way?”

  “No, my Rosamunde, it is just that I had hoped to take you to bed a virgin.”

  She slapped him, hard, and his head snapped back.

  “How dare you! You know I come to you a virgin. If I would not give myself to you, who else would I allow to touch me?”

  “No one. I thought Sir Walter…” Richard’s confusion showed on his face and Rosamunde understood his fear.

 
“No. Not him and not anyone else.” Rosamunde’s anger lessened a little. He had not meant to insult her nor to compare her with Louise.

  Richard breathed out long and hard. “I am sorry. I did not want to discuss it with you, since there seemed to be nothing to say and I did not want to remind you of what had happened that night. I assumed… I am sorry, my love, but I assumed that I had come too late to save you.”

  Rosamunde reached out to touch his face where she had struck him. “No,” she said gently, “You did not come too late. I have come to you as you would wish.” He drew her back into his arms and kissed her again.

  “Then I will love you as you would wish.”

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen