by Ling, Maria
"In an hour," he told the men who approached him for advice and decisions on all the minutiae of castle life. "Use your own best judgement. I shall be in my room." Or near it, at least, in Aelfid's room, checking on her welfare. He strode off, fighting not to hurry, trying hard to set a pace that was both speedy and relaxed. Reached her in moments, though it seemed an age to him, and felt absurd as he flung open the door to find her peacefully settled by the table, sewing.
"Good afternoon," he said, and lost the battle with an indulgent smile. "Comfortable enough?"
"Very much so." She'd risen at once, set the fabric aside, stood now hesitant as if unsure whether to greet him. He walked towards her and held out his hands, and she came to him easily, visibly relaxing, smiling now. That was how he wished to see her. A pang burst through his heart at the thought of how little ease she had shown with him so far.
But they had time before them. No threat of battle called him away, no danger hung over her family now. They could meet at a leisured pace, get to know each other as people and not merely as bodies. Though what a body... Guy lost the thread of his reasoning, and contented himself with open admiration.
"I came to ask if you were well," he said truthfully. "And to suggest a small excursion, if you wish it. Can you ride?"
Her eyes widened. "On a horse? No."
Of course not. Guy quelled a sense of irritation. Why would a peasant girl learn to ride? "But you know how to sit, I observe. We may find you a docile hack to be led about on." He stepped back to consider her height and build, how she would appear on a horse.
God, that dress. He didn't want a scrappy creature like this on any mount of his own. But she was taking steps to improve, he could see the beginnings of a long tunic in the sweep of fabric she'd put aside. A good colour for her, deep green, it would bring out the vivid tints of her eyes and cheeks. Give her a little something about the head, and a good belt, she'd look perfectly acceptable as consort to a lord.
But as she was... Well, he didn't choose her for the clothes she wore. Nor keep her for them, either. If he preferred to see her entirely naked, that was no bad thing.
"Talk to me," he commanded.
"What about?"
There was the sticking-point, true enough. "Anything. What you like, or dislike."
She watched him with unfeigned bewilderment. "Here? Everything is..." She hesitated. "Wonderful. Far beyond anything I could imagine."
"Really?" Guy studied the simple room, the plain furnishings. "Why, what are you used to?" That sounded too dismissive, so he amended it with a quick: "Tell me about your home. Not the wrongs you've brought to my notice - I am righting those as we speak. But about how it is when things are good."
"Oh." She sat down, paused to gather her thoughts, rubbed the side of her face in an absent-minded gesture. "Well, it's a lovely home. Mother and the little ones - " her face lit up with joy and affection - "we have a great deal of fun together. Of course, there's a sharp word now and then also. But we all get along very well."
"And what do you do?" Guy persisted. "What interests you?"
Aelfid frowned in puzzlement. "We do the work that needs doing."
Just that. He watched her a while longer, before he realised she didn't even understand what he meant. "But when you've accomplished all the tasks of the day..."
"Then we sleep."
Right. So much for civilised pursuits. He didn't even ask if she knew how to hunt. Hardly worth requesting her opinion of churchmen or courts, either. Guy settled back against the wall, studied her with dispassionate attention. Very beautiful, certainly. Attractive. Desirable.
Oh, hell. He'd not chosen her for conversation.
"Never mind," he said, defeated. "I was curious, nothing more."
Aelfid reached for the fabric and shook it out, rose to hold it before her. Indeed it was her colour, the sheer loveliness of her face blossomed before him. If he could enjoy her beauty - and her body, too - that would be enough.
"Very pretty," he conceded.
She smiled at that, rolled up the fabric neatly, set it back on the table. Every movement was precise and orderly, brisk but unhurried, the motion of a woman who knew how to work. And it wasn't so different from his own life, really. He'd not been truly at leisure for many years now.
"Would you like to learn how to ride a horse?" he asked.
Aelfid regarded him with a sceptical look. "If it's within the realm of the possible."
Guy laughed. "It should be. I doubt any babe was ever born in the saddle. At least I hope not, for the mother's sake."
He held out one hand to her, and she danced across and took it eagerly. Guy kissed her, lightly on the lips, then cuddled her close. This would have to suffice, he thought as he held her in a long embrace. They didn't need more than physical affection, it was there and wonderful and entirely enough.
As for his own memories of happy childhood hours spent with his mother and sisters and their attendants, those belonged to a bygone age. Even if he filled these rooms with women, nothing could ever be the same.
"Do you miss your family?" he asked, idly tracing her hair with his fingertips.
The glow drained from her body, he felt that through his arms.
"Yes," she admitted in a hesitant tone. "I do. But..." She turned an anxious face towards him. "You'll not send me away, my lord?"
Guy quelled a sigh. They were back to that. "Not unless you want to leave. And don't call me 'lord'."
Aelfid open her mouth to apologise - damn it, he could see the deference all over her face. Then she caught herself, and stood up a little straighter, and said in a firm tone: "Very well."
That was progress. Guy allowed himself a grin by way of return. "Better. Don't push it too far. I'll not have impertinence from you."
"Have I offered any?" She was saucy now, teasing him, with a light in her eyes that made his heart ache. He wished she'd been born his equal, that he could place her in this room with all the attendants she wished, and have her be a true lady of his castle, as his wife.
Which was an absurd notion. Of course it was. But he indulged it a moment longer, saw her gracefully seated over there by the window for light, busy with her sewing, while he lounged nearby and sought her opinion on whatever matters troubled him that day.
Well, he could do something in that direction, perhaps. "Why do you not sit by the window?" he asked.
Aelfid frowned, confused, and looked behind her. "The table is over here. I would not put that fine cloth on the floor, and it's too large for my lap."
"So we'll move the table."
Her eyes widened, as if the mere suggestion shocked her. "I would not disturb anything."
Guy kissed her hand. "This is your room. Yours. To arrange as best pleases you. If you want the table near the window, move the table. Or ask one of the men to move it for you."
She actually cringed. "I could not do that."
"Do it now." Guy dropped her hand, stepped back and folded his arms, tried out his best commander's stare on her. "Go on. I order you to do it."
For a moment he thought he'd gone too far, that fear glinted in her eyes. But the laughter that bubbled from her set his heart entirely at ease.
"In that case," she said with a light curtsey, "I shall comply, of course." She stepped across to the door, opened it, and issued her instructions with a little self-conscious embarrassment, but with no trace of either haughtiness or fear.
So far so good. And she might yet be turned into an acceptable lady of the castle. There was a pleasantness about her, a direct gaze and polite certainty, that must sit well with the men. Guy imagined her taking command of these rooms, of his bed and his body and his heart -
Actually, he was too overwhelmed by thoughts of what she might do to his body to pursue the rest of that notion.
Why couldn't he marry her? Guy turned that question over in his mind. She brought him no advantage in land or rank, true, but he lacked for neither and had no appetite for expanding his re
alm. He'd seen enough of the consequences of men's lust for dominion, he wanted no wealth or territory beyond his own. Stood ready to defend what he had, of course, but there was no current threat or danger. As for the future, he could not bring himself to believe his family would lose their grip on this estate. The main issue was to provide himself with heirs. Which would be a pleasant occupation, given a suitable companion for the endeavour.
Eh, he might as well admit the truth. He didn't want any other woman. Just Aelfid, shining-eyed and happy, turning to him now with a confident smile. Wanted to see her the mistress of these rooms, with her own attendants and her own pursuits.
In which case, he must allow her to choose them freely. Not try to make her into a woman like those he had known. If his mother was at hand to tutor her, that would be different, Aelfid might learn a great deal from the wise teaching of an older woman. Though what his mother would say to the suggestion of admitting a peasant girl to her own companionship was best left unimagined. Guy smothered a laugh at the idea.
At present, Aelfid seemed content with sewing. She settled to it at once after thanking the men for their help, took up the task with the quick efficiency that characterised her every movement. Which Guy could not help but love, since he saw the years of cheerful habitual work that lay behind it.
He'd like to meet her family, Guy mused. Her mother, in particular. It would make for an interesting study. He knew plenty about men, how to gauge their character and fit them for best use, but not so much about women. And he ought to take an interest in his tenants, especially after so long an absence, and especially after setting right a complaint of mismanagement.
Grim satisfaction settled over his soul. He would deal with the men who'd betrayed his confidence and abused the power he'd allowed them to possess. Then he'd give his own trusted man a few more weeks to put any other matters right. After that, it would be well to visit the village and ensure all was as it should be. Which would provide an opportunity for Aelfid to spend some time with her family, also.
She might even ride there alongside him, if her lessons progressed well.
Guy sauntered over to kiss her hair, wished her happy sewing in his absence, and strode off to govern his castle.
***
Did she know how to ride a horse? Aelfid shook her head in utter bewilderment. Of course she did not. That was for men on the lord's business. She'd like to see the bailiff's expression if anyone else tried such a thing. Yet Guy had mentioned it so casually, as if it was an accomplishment expected from everyone, that she'd instantly understood this as another example of the difference between her and what he was accustomed to among noble women. So she must begin work on that, as on her clothes. And she would love to learn, if he was willing to teach her.
Aelfid wondered uneasily what other skills she lacked. He'd spoken of interests, but she did not understand what he meant. Many things interested her. How best to grow the crops that fed her family, care for the animals that laboured for them and gave them precious eggs and milk, make and mend and clean and cook, and still retain good cheer enough to keep the children happy through all the tasks of the day. It was all work, all the time, joyful work because it kept them all alive and mostly in good health. But he'd spoken in a tone almost dismissive, as if such things hardly mattered at all.
She didn't understand him. What could be greater and more satisfying than good productive work? Surely he did not mean she ought to sit idle while her mother and the little ones toiled away. And yet... she'd done nothing of use since she came here. Was not allowed to. Had neither tools nor freedom to achieve anything.
Aelfid stared at the fabric in her hands. At home it would be coarser, yes, and the dye less brilliant, but she would have made it herself - carded and spun and dyed and woven. She would be using the stuff of her own labour to make coverings for herself and those she loved. Not stitch away at material that meant nothing to her, because strangers had made it, and it carried no scent of home.
All at once a sense of grief overwhelmed her, almost physically painful in its intensity. She didn't belong here. She had no share in this world, it was Guy's only and not hers. His and his men's, Beorn included perhaps, but she was here only on sufferance, for the use of her body in a man's bed, and not for anything created by her alone.
While at home she was wanted. Valued. Indispensable, even.
She had come here to plead for protection, and Guy had granted it. He said he was putting matters right, and Aelfid believed him. But her family needed more than that. She had forgotten, in her urgency to speak and be heard, that there was far more at stake here than Osulf's depredations. Her family needed to regain possession of the farm, yes, and the safety to work there in peace. But they needed Aelfid herself also, her presence, her labour, her time.
Fear clawed at her, anxious care for those she had left behind. Guilt, also, as she imagined how worried they must be. Not a word of greeting or reassurance could have reached them from her, just a long silence.
She must go home. Of course she must. Aelfid looked around at the bizarre and unfamiliar room, far too big and sumptuous for someone like her. She'd been lost in a dream, some ridiculous notion of remaining with Guy, as if only the two of them mattered in the world.
Back at home, her mother and the little ones missed her, and worried, and struggled to survive without her. While here she sat, idle and selfish, making a dress she did not need for the pleasure of a man who did not understand her in the least.
It was wrong. All wrong.
She did not belong here. She had to go home.
Slowly Aelfid put the fabric aside. She studied the room as if she wished to remember every detail - the way the light slanted across the plaster wall, the sinuous pattern of coloured thread against the lush weave of the curtains, the large bed with its billowing feather mattress. Then she rose, and crossed to the door, and held her breath as she spoke to the man outside.
"Would you fetch him back, if you please? My lord Guy, I mean. There is...something I forgot to tell him."
"Of course, madam." The man ran down the stairs, light of foot, no tumbling about like a fool on his part. She heard his shout from outside, and a pause, and then men's voices from below. Guy's, it caused a quiver in her belly, she loved the sound of it. Loved the sight of him also, as he came hurrying up the stairs at her call. She had that power over him. To speak a word and bring him to her, and hold his full attention. It was a miracle, that their roles were so reversed. She wanted to use that power only to remain with him, to be all that he wanted her to be. But what she must do was to follow her own sense of right, and return to the place and the people she belonged with.
"Your pardon, my lord," she said softly. "There was another small thing I wished to ask of you." She couldn't beg to leave, in front of the men who'd been so swift to obey her. So she withdrew into the room instead, felt all at once awkward and silly, not least because Guy regarded her with a puzzled frown.
"Go on," he told her. "What is your wish?"
Aelfid swallowed. Her certainty of a moment ago had vanished entirely. Faced with him in the flesh, she felt far more timid than before. But she had called him now, and must speak. "I want to go home. Now. Today."
"Why, what has happened?" He glanced around, alert, as if he imagined some important message had arrived during his brief absence.
"Nothing." Aelfid fought down her embarrassment. "But I'm needed there. There's so much work to do, and no one to do it, and - " She faltered before his scowl.
"Let us be very clear on this point," Guy said, with a snap in his voice that had not been there before. "You no longer have reason to be concerned for the welfare of your family. Understand?"
"Yes - yes, my lord." Aelfid curtseyed. "And I thank you. Truly I do. But - " she sucked in breath, and let him have the full truth, though it struck like a blow at all they had shared - "I don't think you understand. The way we live at home is not like how things are here. There is no time for idleness. We
all work, all of us, all the time. That is what we do. Because everything we do is vital, every moment is precious. Whereas here I have no purpose and no use."
Guy crossed his arms, and regarded her with an odd light in his eyes. "I wouldn't say that."
Aelfid blushed more deeply. "I meant work. It was only just now that I realised what you were asking me. What do we do when we are idle? But we are never idle. Whereas here I've been nothing but idle since I arrived. Apart from..." She blushed, and could not meet his teasing look.
"If you do nothing more," Guy said lightly, "I for one will be content."
Aelfid held her breath. "It's not enough."
"What do you want, then?"
"To go home. To do the work that I alone can do."
Guy stared at her, uncomprehending. "What tasks are so crucial there that no one can do it except you?"
"Everything." Aelfid's confidence returned as she spoke. "All the work that is mine to do, because no other person is me. At home, I have any number of tasks. Whereas here..." She made a small, hopeless gesture to the grand room made and kept by strangers.
Guy covered his eyes with his hand. "You wish to go home because you dislike being at leisure?"
"No." It came out almost like a shout, so strong was her frustration. "I have no place here. Nothing that matters. At home I am needed, and here I am not."
Guy dropped his hand to his side and glared at her in exasperation. "What do you want from me? I can't have you traipsing all over the castle getting in the way of my men. And tumbling down stairs at every opportunity." He gave her a stern look, but she caught the glint in his eyes and had to smile.
"I know to mind my footing now," Aelfid replied. "But I don't like to be shut away like this. And there is so much to do on a farm, you've no idea - "
