The Saxon Bride (The Norman Conquest Series)

by York, Ashley

  The man stepped closer to John, stopping just short of his face to spit out, "Aye, and I don't care."

  John sprang from the bed, gripped the man's chin, and pushed it up as he backed him against the wall. He grabbed the pathetic little dagger from the man's belt. "Speak quick. Tell me what you are about before I break your neck."

  His would be abductor's eyes bulged and gurgling came from his mouth as he tried to speak. John squeezed his throat.

  "Quick now or I may find no mercy for one such as you."

  "Not me, m'lord."

  John released the pressure. "What are you saying?"

  "It's not me. I was hired tah grab yah."

  "Who hired you?"

  "Leofrid."

  John shoved the man away from him. He landed flat on his arse and smacked his head against the wall.

  "Explain yourself."

  The man's wide-eyed expression convinced John he'd been telling the truth. "Leofrid wanted yah taken. He was going tah offer you as ransom tah the king."

  John searched his memory. The name was familiar, a Godwinson. Surely they were all dead. All but Rowena's cousin.

  "When were you to hand me over to him?"

  A noise behind alerted John to someone else in the room but it was the odor of flowers that gave Abigail away. He stepped and grabbed her in a single motion, the dagger tight against her throat but she offered no resistance. "What have you to do with this?"

  She shook her head.

  The blonde tightened his cheeks with disgust. "Yah frecking whore. Tell him yahr part. Yah’re the worst part of the whole damn plan."

  John put the point of the dagger against her cheek. "I suggest you listen to him."

  "No, John. He is a liar. I came only for you."

  He shoved her toward the other man, who propelled her away when she would have fallen against him.

  "So tell me. When does Leofrid arrive?"

  His adversary pressed himself against the wall, standing as he spoke. "No, we're tah bring yah tah him."

  "And?"

  "That is all I know."

  "When?"

  "By eventide."

  John glanced at Abigail's drawn face.

  "What was her part?"

  Scar face grunted his dislike. "Her? She hired me." Abigail did not look up. "She's the one with all the gold."

  "And yet you call her a whore? And manhandle her? Methinks something is amiss."

  The man shook his head, his disdain for her evident. "She had all the answers. Finding me. Hiring me."

  "Well, Abigail?" John was near the end of his patience. Either she spoke or he got his answers another way.

  Abigail took a deep breath. "I need you to return with me." She finally picked up her head, tears glistened in her eyes.

  John's eye s widened. "Do you believe you can move me by your tears?"

  Scar face canted a grin toward her before facing John. "I'll tell yah what I can do for yah. It was a red-haired man I saw her with—"

  Abigail’s movement was small but the ghastly sound the man made urged John to lurch toward them. Crimson color spread across the other man's belly. John grabbed the woman's hand to find the blood-stained dagger in her grip.

  "Drop it." He pushed her hand above her head while the man slid to the ground.

  John squeezed her wrist. Abigail tried to yank away but he held her fast. "Release it. Now!"

  She opened her hand and the weapon dropped to the floor. She breathed heavily, her eyes now wary as she looked at him.

  "I thought you were working with this man."

  "He was a whoreson. Raped me last night while we waited for your return."

  John took a closer look and found the man was no longer breathing.

  "So now you're a murderer, too?"

  She spat on the corpse and turned her face away. John took her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. "A red-haired man? Would that be Arthur?"

  Abigail pressed her lips into a thin line.

  "You didn't come here on your own. Arthur somehow found out about you and brought you here." The black of her eye widened. "Ah, yes, I could always read you like a book. Will you give me your defense?"

  She shook her head.

  "As you wish." Using the rope still on the bed, John tied her hands behind her. She gave little resistance. "I'll oblige your request to be with me by placing you in a cell and under watch so that no more mischief can come from you."

  He was beside himself as he ushered her out the door, his head banging miserably as they made their way through the town. Her disheveled state had many villagers stopping and staring as they made their way toward the castle.

  Damn.

  The door at the Owl and Thistle burst open as they passed. Almost as if they'd been spotted through the tavern window. The jingle of bells made John's jaw clench.

  "My lord." The high pitched call was from Mort, William's spy.

  John stopped and took a deep breath before facing the man. "Yes?"

  Mort's surprised look said it all. He gestured to the woman, his hand dropping and raising to bring it all to the forefront. "What is amiss, my lord? It is unseemly for you to be traipsing through the town with this woman in tow." Shaking his head, Mort guided them back to the door he'd just exited. "Please, my lord, come inside, away from prying eyes."

  The absurdity of the situation did not pass by unnoticed by John. Felicity stopped in the hall and glanced at the commotion as the three stood just inside the closed door. She approached slowly, a frown on her face.

  "What is this?" she asked, absently drying her hands on a towel as she spoke.

  Mort glanced toward her, his nostrils flared, "I asked the same."

  As one they turned toward John. He tightened his jaw. "This woman is a murderer."

  He opted not to mention the abduction knowing all would be reported to the king.

  "Who has she murdered?"

  John hesitated before answering, deciding to bluff his play. "A good for nothing seeking to gain power from the king, and she was his accomplice until she sliced his gut open."

  Abigail's eyes widened in surprise. He had hit the mark. What other use would Leofrid have for abducting him and demanding the king's attention. He must have been seeking some sort of recompense, probably land, for John's return.

  Felicity blanched. "My lord, this is the same woman that has been harassing your lady for months now."

  John jerked Abigail to face him. "What have you done to Lady Rowena?"

  Abigail smiled. "Nothing, John."

  "Do not address our lord with such little respect." Felicity was in her face as she barked the orders at her.

  Abigail pulled back slightly, turning her head away.

  John's heart beat faster with anger at the possibility of anyone hurting Rowena. "What have you done?"

  Mort settled his hand on John's where he clenched Abigail's arm. "My lord, we can see to this here rather than bring it to the castle. The soldiers there have been on high alert searching for you these past hours."

  John turned on the man. "They know I have returned?"

  Mort nodded. "And they know that you are missing."

  "’Twas the Lady Rowena," Felicity piped in, a slight smile on her face. "She insisted you would not leave on your own and that something must be wrong or you would have come to her."

  His sweet Rowena. He wanted to find her and tell her Arthur would trouble her no more. He turned again to the woman held in his grip. "You sought to cause trouble? Methinks you were unsuccessful at that as well."

  Her eyes rounded at the pain his words caused her. "Out of love."

  "Then out of love tell me where you were to meet Leofrid?"

  She glanced away, seeming to measure her options. Finally, she squared her shoulders and faced him. "He expects us to bring you to him at moonrise by the Clouden ruins."

  Relief flooded through him. "I thank you for that."

  When he started to turn away, she grabbed at his arm. "But I
do love you, ‘tis true."

  "You wouldn't know love if it slapped you in the face," John replied.

  Mort pulled away with a look of utter disbelief, shaking his head.

  "Well, my lord, clearly she needs to be punished for what she attempted as well."

  That's right. Mort had the king's ear. It would not be long before John would be called to answer for the way he botched up his orders.

  They must swear their fealty to me by spring next.

  His deadline was upon him. The clock was ticking but perhaps with Rowena's help, he could win the villagers over and fulfill his duty.

  Chapter Thirty

  Rowena stilled her fidgety hands. John would be found. She had to believe it was true. Glancing across the Great Hall, she averted her gaze when she caught sight of Joan. The woman's stubbornness would try a saint.

  John did not abandon me.

  Would screaming it in her face prove it to be true? No. John being located with a good explanation for his absence is the only thing that could do that.

  "My lady." Young Sean dipped his head and handed the folded parchment to Rowena. Her heart stopped beating.

  "From where did you get this?"

  The boy shrugged. "It was lying on the trestle by the door." He pointed to the symbol visible on the outside. The seal. "It is marked for you, my lady."

  Rowena breathed in relief. "I appreciate you delivering it to me." She smiled and ruffled his hair. "Now, why don't you see if the cook has any sweets for you? Tell her I sent you so you don't get your ears boxed for showing up at such a busy time."

  He grinned from ear to ear and skipped off toward the kitchen.

  Rowena looked down at the seal of the House of Godwin. It had to be from her cousin. How brazen he was to use the family crest on a missive that anyone might have found. She glanced toward the door and around the room. No one seemed unfamiliar. She was happy to find Abigail was not among the guests this evening. The meal would be served soon and she was not up for a battle at this time.

  Peter entered and looked around, his eyes finally settling on Rowena. Peter veered toward her with purpose in every step. He had news. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

  Standing beside the bench she'd occupied, she took in a slow, deep breath, preparing herself for the worst.

  "Peter."

  He moved toward her and accepted her hand, bowing low in respect over it. "My lady. Is there any word of our lord?"

  Her shoulders slumped. "There is not. I had hoped you brought news."

  "The only news I have is that when we parted at the gate, he continued on to the stables while I continued on with your men to their village."

  "My men?" It had been a long time since a Norman referred to them that way. They had once been her men, her parent's men, ready to rise and do battle at a word but not for many years now.

  "My lady, they are your men. Yours and Lord John's. They have stood by your husband as their lord. It is only a matter of time before they will swear fealty to the king."

  That was an important step toward peace and Rowena knew it. It was also the only reason John had come here in the first place if what his soldiers spoke of was true.

  "That is good news indeed."

  "News that will make your husband a very happy man." Peter scratched at his head revealing his own distress. "I am beside myself. I do not know what has befallen him. I needs be off to look for him although I have nowhere else to search."

  His response sent a chill through her body. "I fear the worst has befallen him."

  John's dear friend searched her face with great intensity. "My lady, I did not wish to worry you. Forgive my glib words. He will be found. Rest assured."

  Tears welled and she dipped her head, not wanting him to see her weakness. "I pray you are correct."

  Peter took her hand again. "If you would sit with me for a moment?"

  She sat at the edge of the bench, her knees turned away from Peter. She tried to catch the tear before it fell down her cheek.

  "Oh, you are under great duress."

  "I'm sorry for my lack of control."

  Peter smiled, tipped her chin up and looked into her eyes. "I'm sure it is an endearing quality to your husband."

  Her eyes widened. He spoke of John as if feelings were involved. "Perhaps not so endearing."

  "Aw, I believe he finds all about you endearing."

  She narrowed her eyes. "Speak of me often do you?"

  "I listen only. I believe the man values you above all else."

  Her breath caught. Perhaps it would not be long before John did realize he could and did love her. "Above all else?"

  Peter's face hardened. "The love of a woman has been the downfall of many men."

  "And you think it will be so with John?"

  He shook his head slowly. "No, I do not believe it is so with you." He measured each word carefully. "You are of noble blood and hold honor above rewards. That is what John needs now. He needs to know that he can be counted as deserving by the one who holds his heart in her hands."

  Rowena's family had been destroyed by these Normans. To hear this knight speak of them as they deserve to be spoken of filled her with joy. The Godwins were a noble line. To be defeated by a stronger force did not take that away from them. Peter's respectful manner warmed her heart. She wanted to show her intent with the Normans was sincere as well.

  She tilted her head, the last tear sliding off her chin. "Peter, I find nothing lacking in my husband. I wish only to have a peaceful life for us all, Norman and Saxon."

  He stood and brushed his lips across her knuckle before releasing her hand. "Then Lady Rowena, I will bring your lord back to you."

  She stood as well, tipping her head in agreement. He strode to the door without looking back. The room filled in anticipation of the evening repast but neither Saxon nor Norman soldiers were present. They searched for John.

  Suddenly exhausted, Rowena's first instinct was to look for her handmaiden but stopped herself. She would make her way to her room alone. A rest was what she needed now so that when John returned, she could greet him as he deserved.

  §

  John came in through the garden beside the cooking area to avoid detection. The smells reminded him that he hadn't eaten for more than a day.

  "Oh! ‘Tis you!" Ada gasped, dropping the armful of bread on the table and ran to him.

  He held his finger to his lips causing her to look around. She took his arm, pulled him close to her face, and whispered. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

  John wanted to laugh at the motherly concern. "No, well, yes, but I will be fine."

  "Nay!" She declared and pulled back, not releasing the firm grip she had of his arm. Grabbing a pitcher from the table, she poured a good amount of mead. "You look ready to collapse."

  John knew if he chose this moment to collapse, this woman would keep him standing upright by her determined hold. "I am fine."

  He started to protest but quickly downed the mead that had been brought. It soothed his parched throat, easing the tension in his head. He smiled. "My thanks."

  "My lord, is your return to be kept secret?"

  He quickly swallowed the second cup and accepted the bread she offered. "Yes. Can you do that for me?"

  "I will, my lord, and you—Tsk. Tsk. You need to look like you've not lived through hell when you see my lady. She'd pass out at the sight of you."

  The image of Rowena, wide-eyed with fright caught him by surprise. He choked on the bread and followed it with a third cup of mead.

  "My thanks again." He disengaged her hand from his arm. "I need to find Lady Rowena."

  "She's just gone to her room," a young lass offered. It was the serving girl Sarah.

  They hadn't heard her come up to them. John hunkered down in front of her. "Thank you, Sarah."

  "She's missed you something awful, my lord." The girl reddened at her own outburst. "Forgive me, my lord."

  If only Rowena had missed him as he'd missed h
er. He'd rushed home as quickly as his tired mount would allow once Arthur was dead. Damn Leofrid for delaying his return even more.

  He smiled at the little girl. "No need. You spoke your mind in a respectful manner but I need to ask a boon?" She nodded. "Don't let anyone know that I am here."

  The girl screwed her face up in apparent confusion. "No? But you will see Lady Rowena?"

  John tussled her hair. "Aye, I'm off to see her just now."

  "Then I'll be sure to tell no one I've seen you."

  He headed to the stairs, keeping to the shadows, and took the steps two at a time. At her chamber door, he paused, his hand poised above the handle. Should he knock or just walk in?

  He chided himself for the mistrust he'd shown her. Convincing her of his trust now may be a tough battle. Perhaps persuading her to give him a chance to be her husband in all things would be an even bigger obstacle since she knew the truth about him. He tapped on the door.

  "I will be down anon. I require rest now." Rowena's voice was faint, laced with irritation. He opened the door to find her lying across her bed, her arm covering her eyes. "I said anon." She sat up, her eyes widened with surprise.

  "My lady, I have returned."

  John fought down the many fears that crowded his mind of what she could be thinking. She slowly stood beside the bed as if afraid any sudden movement would cause him to disappear into thin air. A smile blossomed across her face that rivaled the most beautiful sunset. "I see that you have, my lord." She dipped into a curtsy. And went to him, taking him by the hand, leading him to the stool.

  He'd have none of it and took her into his arms. Her warmth radiated through the length of him, and he sighed. "Ah, this is where you belong."

  She pressed tightly against him before meeting his eyes. "You look near to exhaustion."

  He sat down heavily pulling her onto his lap. The exhaustion she mentioned became overwhelming. "Methinks you are right."

  Scrambling off his lap, she knelt beside him with a smile and began to remove his boots. "I will order you a bath." The smile left her face. "Not that you stink, my lord. No. Just so you will be more comfortable."

  She dropped the second boot and went to the door to call for a bath to be brought up. The smell of lavender jerked John awake and he realize he must have dozed off. The mead was having a strong effect on him. He opened his eyes to find Rowena's concerned face before him. "Are you not well?"