‘Bring the witch down to me!’ the Bastard demanded. ‘I would have her sit by my side this night. I want her to join the celebrations for her wedding.’ He laughed and drank deeply from his cup, then wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his robe and belched. ‘More wine, dolt! What are you staring at me for?’
‘The lady says she is too ill, my lord.’ the luckless servant began, and received a blow that sent him staggering sideways.
‘Damn her! Damn her black soul to hell.’ The Bastard grabbed the wineskin from the serf who presented it and drank straight from the neck. ‘Bring her, I say!’
As the frightened servant ran off, Claudette ran her fingers over his cheek, smiling at him. ‘Why do you send for that puling creature when you have me, my lord?’ She pouted her red lips at him. ‘Let us go to your chamber, and I shall please you so much that you will not want her.’
‘My sweet whore,’ the Bastard said, grinning at her. ‘Your turn will come soon enough, but you must learn to share me with my wife. She brings a fortune in gold. Besides, a man grows tired of too much complaisance. She will fight me, and the thought pleases me …’
‘I can fight if you wish for it. I will whip you and scratch you …’
The Bastard caught her wrist as her nails scored his skin, his look suddenly threatening. ‘Be quiet, whore! When I want you, I’ll tell you.’
Claudette drew back, smarting from his insults. If she was a whore he had made her so. He wanted the gold the late Comte’s wife could bring him, but she would do her best to see that his plans came to nothing.
Keeping her smile in place, she took the wineskin he had laid down and filled his cup, slipping the potent liquid that would make him sleep into it while his head was turned. She placed the cup by his hand, and in a moment he reached for it and drank deeply, but he did not finish the contents.
Claudette turned her head to look as she heard shouting, and a scream of anger. The servants had brought the Comtesse to the hall, but she was struggling and protesting, trying to break free of them. All eyes were on her as she was dragged to the high table, and no one but Claudette noticed when the Bastard drained his cup.
‘Witch …’ he muttered thickly. ‘You cannot defy me. I shall teach you a lesson …’
He got to his feet and walked unsteadily along the back of the table where his chief men were seated, then negotiated the steps to the dais unsteadily, finally reaching Marietta. Towering over her, he thrust his hand out and grabbed her by the throat. Bending his head, he forced his mouth over hers. Marietta struggled wildly, and he gave a cry as her sharp teeth sank into his bottom lip. He roared with pain and anger and slapped her, making her stagger back.
Marietta faced him defiantly. His fist curled, as if he would strike her again, then he muttered something and rubbed his hand over his face. A strange strangled sound came from him, his eyes rolling upwards. Sagging to his knees, he stared at her stupidly, and then fell flat on his face.
For a moment there was a stunned silence. Claudette broke it by laughing.
‘My lord hath drunk too much,’ she announced. ‘Take him to his chamber and see that he sleeps well. He will need his strength for the morrow if he is to tame this one!’
Laughter and some coarse remarks greeted her words. Several of the men moved to gather him up and carry him off; they grinned and winked at each other, clearly amused by what had happened.
Claudette came quickly to Marietta. ‘You must return to your chamber, lady. I shall lock you in myself.’ She hurried Marietta away from the hall before anyone could deny them, her voice soft as she whispered, ‘I gave him a strong dose. He will sleep well into the morning. You must lock me into your chamber, so that if he is angry I can blame you. I shall say that you overpowered me and escaped.’
‘He will be very angry.’ Marietta looked at her in concern. ‘He may vent his anger on you.’
‘If I am his wife I shall tell him that I bear his son—and that it was for my child’s sake that I took your place after you locked me in your room.’ Claudette smiled confidently. ‘Once you are gone he will forget you. But remember that if you return you will certainly die …’
‘I know it,’ Marietta said. ‘Thank you. We must hurry, for the sooner I am on my way the better.’
Claudette went into the antechamber ahead of Marietta. The next moment she was seized from behind, a hand over her mouth.
‘We have come for your lady,’ a voice said in her ear. ‘Scream and it will be the worse for you.’
‘What is this?’ Marietta cried as she too was grabbed and held. ‘Who are you? What are you doing?’
‘Marietta?’ A shadow moved towards her out of the gloom. ‘We thought you were locked in the bedchamber. Are you at liberty to leave your room?’
‘Anton?’ Marietta’s heart leapt. ‘Is that you? I cannot see you.’
‘We snuffed the tapers, for we did not wish to alert the castle. We came to take you away from this place—if you wish to go?’
‘Oh, yes! Of course I wish to leave. I was about to make my own escape. Claudette was to take my place here. Let her go, for we must lock her in my bedchamber …’
Anton had struck a tinder. Lighting one small candle, he held it high so that he could look at Marietta’s face. ‘Where is the Bastard?’
‘In his chamber. Claudette drugged him, and he will sleep for long enough.’
‘Why do you ask?’ Claudette was on her guard. ‘If you mean him harm I shall scream and bring the guards down on you. You may take her and go in safety, but you will not harm my lord.’
‘He may have something I need—a ring.’ Anton’s hard gaze went over the girl. ‘He took it from the Comte de Montcrief as he lay dying. It is fashioned of heavy gold with a large cabochon ruby. Have you seen such a ring?’
‘He wears it on a chain about his neck,’ Claudette said. ‘If you give me your word that he will not be harmed I shall take you to him.’
‘He deserves to die for what he has done.’
‘She loves him,’ Marietta said, and touched his arm. ‘Claudette bears his child—for her sake let him live.’
Anton’s mouth was a hard line as he looked at her, then he inclined his head. ‘Very well.’ He turned to Miguel. ‘Take the Comtesse and ride for the coast at once. I shall join you as soon as my business is done here.’
‘You are not coming with us?’
‘I must have that ring.’ Anton did not smile as he glanced at Marietta. ‘You will be safe with my men. If I should not follow Miguel will take you back to Lady Claire.’
Marietta looked for some sign of warmth in his face but found none. He had come for her, but it must have been at Lady Claire’s bidding or because the King had ordered it. For a moment she had thought he had sought her out because he loved her.
She moved towards him urgently, laying a hand on his sleeve. ‘I beg you to take care, sir. I would not have you die in my cause.’
‘I am commanded to find that ring. You are merely delaying me. Please go with Miguel as I bid you.’
She turned away, fighting her tears as she allowed Miguel to hurry her back down the stone steps of the tower. Near the bottom they heard the sound of voices, and Miguel pulled her back into the shadows until the men had passed.
‘There is a secret way beneath the outer walls,’ Miguel whispered. ‘Your servant is waiting in the stables to guide us through the passage. It is dark, and there are rats and cobwebs, but you must not scream lest someone hears. Remember, Anton is still in the castle.’
‘I shall not scream.’
Marietta glanced at his face and saw a strange expression in his eyes. She sensed that he was hiding something, but could not tell what was in his mind. He had come with his friend to help rescue her, but he did not like her. He was hiding it, but she felt strong resentment, even hatred. Perhaps he thought her the witch she had been named?
They slipped out of a side door and ran swiftly across the inner bailey. Reaching the solid stone block that
was the stable, Marietta went inside, closely followed by Miguel.
‘Sandro?’ she called softly. ‘Are you there?’
‘God be praised, you are alive, my lady.’ The groom came towards her, looking beyond her to Miguel. ‘Where are the others?’
‘Anton and Fitch follow,’ Miguel said. ‘We are to ride for the coast at once. Anton will do as he thinks best.’
‘Then I shall wait for him,’ Sandro said. ‘He may not be able to find the secret way without me. Take my lady to safety, and may God go with you, sir.’
‘If you wait for him then so do I,’ Marietta said in a determined tone.
Miguel glared at her. ‘You must come with us. Anton ordered it, lady, and he will be angry if you disobey him.’
‘I shall not leave without him.’ Marietta set her face stubbornly. ‘Go on ahead and prepare the ship. I shall wait here with Sandro.’
Miguel’s eyes narrowed. He looked furious but, seeing that her mind was set, he turned on his heel and left her with Sandro.
Anton looked down at the Bastard as he lay snoring on his couch. He stank of stale sweat and wine, his hair was lank with grease. Had he been awake, it would have been a joy to kill him, but there was no honour in killing a helpless enemy. There would be a reckoning for the evil that this man had done, but not this night.
‘Here is the ring.’ Claudette took it from the chain the Bastard wore about his neck and brought it to him. ‘Take it and go quickly, but you must lock me in the tower room. I shall tell my lord that you overpowered me. It will be so much better than the story we planned, for he might not have believed that she could do it.’
‘Why should I believe you? You will raise the alarm as soon as we leave.’
‘You may tie me and gag me if you choose.’
‘It might be safer,’ Fitch said. ‘I will make her secure without hurting her.’
Anton nodded his assent. ‘Come then, lady. We have no time to waste, for I would be on board my ship by the time the Bastard wakes …’
Anton pocketed the ring. It was the twin to the one he had seen on the King’s finger.
Wondering at the significance of the matching rings, Anton was thoughtful as he left the Bastard’s chamber. What was so important about a ring that the King of England needed it returned?
Anton might never know, for he was bound to serve the King but not entitled to an answer. He must concentrate his thoughts on getting out of here alive!
They had been lucky so far, but could be discovered at any moment. If the alarm were raised it would be almost impossible for two men to fight their way out of this castle. The Bastard of Rouen allowed his men to drink and neglect their duty, but if roused their numbers would be overwhelming.
As they made their way back to the tower where Marietta had been imprisoned Anton heard the sound of raucous laughter coming from the hall. Twice he stopped, motioning to the others to keep back as he heard voices and someone approaching, but each time the men passed without noticing the figures in the shadows.
They gained the tower room safely. Claudette was bound. Before the gag was placed about her mouth, Anton asked if there was anything she needed.
‘For your help this day, I would offer my protection in the future if it is asked.’
‘I need nothing from you, sir. Go on your way.’
Bowing his head, Anton signalled that she should be gagged. When it was done they locked her in the room and threw the key into a corner. Let it be searched for!
Running down the steps, they were soon outside in the night air. It was as they approached the stables that Anton heard raised voices. One was Sandro’s, the other unknown. As he hesitated, he heard a woman scream.
Marietta! Why was she still here? Had they been caught? As Anton prepared for the worst, he heard a man speaking.
‘What are you doing here? Answer me or by God I’ll have your tongue—but not before my lord has his fun with you.’
‘Do your worst, scum,’ Sandro said defiantly. ‘Your master will burn in hell for his sins.’
There was the sound of a struggle and a shout of pain. As Anton entered the stable he saw that one man held Sandro’s arms behind his back while another struck him about the face. Marietta was being held by a third man; there was no sign of Miguel or his other men. Anton nodded to Fitch and they moved as one. Fitch drove his dagger into the side of the man holding Sandro, just as Anton sprang at the man who had been hitting him, grabbing him by the throat and jerking his arm back until he gave a cry and fell senseless to the ground. Turning to look at Marietta, Anton saw the third man had a dagger at her throat.
‘Come any nearer and I will slit her throat,’ he warned.
‘If you spill one drop of her blood you are a dead man. Let her go and I shall spare you.’
Anton advanced, sword at the ready. The man tightened his arm about Marietta’s waist, but she suddenly jerked back, then kicked his shin, and at the same moment shoved her elbow hard into his stomach. He gave a grunt and released his hold sufficiently for her to break free of his grasp. Anton grabbed her, thrusting her behind him. The man dropped to his knees, face pale as he begged for his life.
‘Spare me. I was simply obeying orders.’
‘Tie him up!’
Fitch moved to obey instantly. The man made no attempt to resist as he was bound and gagged.
Sandro was still on his knees, gasping. His nose was bleeding, and more blood ran from the side of his mouth.
‘Why are you both still here?’ Anton’s gaze went from Marietta to Sandro. ‘Where are Miguel and the others?’
‘Sandro stayed to make sure you found your way through the secret passages,’ Marietta answered him. ‘I stayed with him. I could not leave while—’
‘You foolish woman! When I give an order I expect to be obeyed! If I miss the tide I can look after myself until I find another ship. You will only hamper me!’
‘I beg you, do not be angry with my lady,’ Sandro said. ‘It was my fault. If I had not waited she would have gone with the others.’
‘Are you able to walk?’ Anton’s attention returned to him. ‘You should have persuaded your lady to go with the others—but I know well she is wilful and heedless. I shall not blame you. We must leave at once, for I do not want to miss the tide.’
Anton took hold of Marietta’s arm. His strong fingers bit into her flesh, his grip uncomfortable as he thrust her ahead of him into the tunnel. Her throat felt tight, and tears were very close, but she would not shed them. He was so angry with her! She was a burden to him that he would rather not have had, and his harsh words were like the lash of a whip, wounding her deeply.
The journey through the tunnel was a nightmare for Marietta. There was an unpleasant smell, and cobwebs hung from the low ceiling brushing over her face and into her hair. She could hear rustling sounds, and sometimes the squeak of a bat, which made her want to scream, but she held her nerve, the nearness of Anton giving her courage to bear her ordeal.
At last they were out into the open. She gulped the night air, breathing it in thankfully. One of Anton’s men had stayed behind to guard the horses. But there were only enough for the men, which meant that she was expected to ride with one of them.
‘Come, lady!’
Anton held out his hand imperiously. She took it and he swung her up into the saddle, mounting behind her. Marietta shivered as his arms went about her and she felt his body at her back.
‘There is no need to be frightened now.’ Anton’s voice was softer. ‘We shall be safe once we reach the ship.’
She could not answer him. Being so close to him made her feel safe, and yet she was aware that he was still angry with her despite his words of comfort. She had prayed that he would come to help her, and her prayers had been answered, but she knew that he had not come to Montcrief for her sake. Anton had come for the ring. Claire had asked him to bring her back and he had rescued her—but it was obvious that the ring was more important. She would be foolish to imagine
that she meant more to him than duty.
The wind stung her face, getting into her eyes. She wasn’t crying. It was just the wind. Anton would take her to his king and abandon her to her fate, whatever that might be. She had escaped the Bastard, but she would not escape the King’s justice.
Marietta held herself proudly. It would be foolish to cry for a man who did not love her but she could not help herself. Despite his coldness, he had stirred something deep inside her.
Dawn was breaking when Marietta first smelled the tang of the sea. They had begun the descent of a steep cliff to the secluded cove below. She could barely make out the shape of a ship anchored just off shore, waiting to take her to England. She felt no sense of joy. Anton had saved her from the Bastard’s spite but she still had to face the King of England’s justice.
He cared nothing for her. Even if the King were merciful the years ahead held nothing for her above the pleasure of motherhood. Yet if she were spared to care for her beloved son she would count herself blessed.
Looking back over her shoulder, she could see nothing but dark shapes and shadows, but knew that people would soon be stirring in the cottages they had passed as they rode. In another hour or so servants would be stirring in the castle. They would take Marietta food, believing her to be locked in the tower. When they discovered she had fled once more they would be frightened. Someone would have to wake the Bastard and tell him. No one would want to be the messenger, and that might give her more time.
Marietta regretted that a servant might be made to pay for her escape. Claudette was sure she could placate him … and she planned to take Marietta’s place and wed him.
God protect her! Marietta prayed that the Bastard would not make her suffer too much.
Anton had dismounted. He offered his hand to help her down.
‘Praise God, we are in time. The ship has sent a boat for us. We must go aboard at once, for we leave with the tide.’
A Wayward Woman Page 34
