‘I am not sure,’ she responded in kind, knowing that he enjoyed this banter. He was just as she had seen him in her dreams, the shadows seeming to be banished from his eyes. She felt now as if the years apart had never been. ‘I may demand more than you can give.’
‘Witch,’ Anton muttered, drawing her to him. He bent his head, kissing her lips with such hunger that she melted into him. ‘My beautiful, lovely woman …’
‘I love you so …’ Marietta lifted her eyes to look at him, melting with desire. She felt the press of his aroused manhood as he held her crushed to him, her heart racing as hot liquid desire built in her. She wanted him, needed him more than words could express. He was her life, her love—her destined lover. ‘I can hardly wait for tomorrow.’
‘Nor I, my love—but we shall, now that I have waited so long.’ He slipped the shoulder of her gown down, kissing her soft flesh. ‘You are so beautiful—and you are mine.’
‘For ever,’ she murmured, moving her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. ‘I thought when they condemned me as a witch and a murderess that my life was over, but now I have so much to look forward to.’
Anton caressed the sweet curve of her breast. ‘I envy the babe that sucked at these sweet jewels, and I hope that your son will have a brother or sister one day.’
‘I long to hold your babe in my arms.’ Marietta pressed against him, her need to lie with him as great as his to take her. ‘Are you sure that you wish to wait one more night?’
‘Temptress!’ Anton smacked her rump. ‘Off with you now. This time I shall let you go, but watch how you tease me in future.’
Marietta laughed and ran from him. All the shadows of the past seemed to have faded away. There had been no sign of Miguel, at least as far as she knew. The Earl was of the opinion that he had taken himself off back to France to lick his wounds. Perhaps Miguel had decided that honour was satisfied and returned to Spain.
She could only hope that it was so…
‘You make a beautiful bride, Marietta,’ Lady Melford told her. She handed her a small silver casket. ‘I brought this with me just in case. Anton was my first male grandchild, and I saved this for his wife.’
Marietta gasped as she opened the casket and saw the beautiful cross set with cabochon rubies and pearls.
‘This is lovely! I have my own silver cross, but this is magnificent. How can I thank you for such a gift?’
‘Be a good wife to Anton.’ Melissa smiled. ‘I know that you will—and I wish you both happiness.’
Marietta thanked her, then kissed her cheek. ‘You are so good to me—’ She broke off as the door opened and a young girl entered. Marietta had recently employed her to help Rosalind with nursing her son. ‘Eleanor … is something wrong?’
‘No, my lady. Lily is to take Mistress Madeline to church— and Rosalind told me to ask if you wished for your son to be present in the church when you are wed?’
Marietta hesitated. ‘I am not sure. He may cry if his gums hurt, for his teeth are coming through … but I suppose you may take him home if he starts to fret.’ She smiled. ‘Yes, bring him to the church. He should be there.’
‘Children often cry in church,’ Lady Melford said as the door closed behind the girl. ‘But I agree that your son should be there to see you wed.’ She looked thoughtful. ‘The girl is very young to have charge of the boy. Have you long employed her?’
‘I took her on when Anton was ill. She is from the village. Her brother works for Sir Harry, and she asked Claire for work. Claire thought that I might like her to help with my son. She seems a pleasant, careful girl, and I have been satisfied with her work, but of course Rosalind is always there to keep an eye on things. And there is Lily too. She has had the care of Madeline, and must continue to look after her because it would upset the child to part from her nurse. I want us all to be happy together.’ Marietta smiled. ‘Anton is so good with the children. He says that I am a good mother but he is gentle and patient and they both love him.’
Anton turned his head to look as Marietta walked up the aisle towards him. He caught his breath as she halted at his side and turned to smile at him. She was so beautiful! Almost regal as she walked, her head held proudly. He could hardly believe that so much happiness was his. After Isabella’s death he had felt that his heart was dead, but Marietta had wakened it, bringing him back from the dark place that had claimed him.
A ray of weak sunshine had managed to break through the clouds, piercing the stained glass window high above to shower the stone flags with a rainbow of colour. As she took her place at his side, Anton looked tenderly on his bride. For a while he had wondered if this day would ever come, fearing more mischief from Miguel, but nothing had been seen of him.
From somewhere in the church he heard the high, thin wail of a child, and then the sound of movement. Marietta turned her head for a moment to look. He raised his brows as she brought her gaze back to meet his, but she shook her head and smiled.
Anton reached out to take her hand as the priest began the marriage ceremony. Marietta would be his wife, and tonight he would claim her for his own.
The bells were ringing joyfully as they came out of church. Marietta stood on the steps with her husband and smiled as the cheers of village people greeted them. Children came forward with tokens of friendship and small gifts for the bride, which she accepted gracefully.
‘Are you happy, my love?’ Anton’s voice brought her thoughts back to him. She laughed as he drew her to him and kissed her, in full view of their friends and family. ‘It is too late to change your mind now, for you are mine—my wife.’
For a moment she saw jealousy and possession in his eyes, and understood his mind. He could not quite rid himself of the fear that she might betray him, as Isabella had.
‘It is all I have ever wanted to be,’ she told him, her eyes meeting his. ‘I love you, Anton. I shall never look at another man.’
‘We should go, for they will be ready to begin the feasting.’ He took her hand and they ran down the steps together, laughing as they were deluged with dried rose petals and rosemary. ‘Come, for the sooner the feasting begins, the sooner it will be over.’
A giggle of delight bubbled inside her as she saw his hot eyes. She had made him wait for this day so much longer than he had wished, and she did not doubt that he would make her pay for it that night.
The Great Hall was filled with people. The Earl and Lady Claire had invited all their friends to this joyous occasion, and they were assembled to greet the bride and groom. Marietta was feted by the other ladies, and given so many gifts and good wishes that she felt she must be dreaming.
Were all these beautiful things for her? Anton’s gifts had been lavish, and included a wonderful string of huge creamy pearls that wound twice round her throat and fell to her waist. She had not expected to receive so many gifts of silver, costly cloth, and precious glass which came all the way from Venice and was rare and expensive. His family had almost overwhelmed her with their generosity, and the Earl’s neighbours had also brought gifts that were magnificent.
Anton came to her as the toasts were drunk and everyone began to find their places so that the feasting could begin. He led her to the place of honour, sitting at her right hand while the Earl sat at her left. Lady Claire sat to Anton’s right, and his parents were a little further along the high board.
The entertainment began with minstrels singing love songs, and the first dish to be brought to table: carp swimming in a rich wine sauce with tiny onions. After this came the boar’s head, capons, a huge side of beef, pork, venison, wood pigeons and sweetbreads, plums, tarts of quince, custards and almond comfits.
Marietta tasted each dish but ate only a morsel, though she could not resist the marchpane and ate two that were stuck with walnuts and dates. Quantities of wine accompanied the food, also mead and sweetened ale.
She drank a little of the wine but kept a clear head, noticing that Anton did the same. His eyes were constantly on
her, throughout the feasting, and she knew that he was waiting for the moment when they could leave.
As the afternoon wore on the guests began to call for dancing. Anton stood up, offering his hand to Marietta. She took it and they walked behind their guests at the high board, descending down the steps at the end to the centre of the hall. As the music began she made her curtsey, and Anton led her through the steps of a stately pavane. For a while they danced alone, but then their guests began to join in, and soon the floor was filled with smiling, happy people.
‘Are you enjoying yourself?’
‘Of course. This is our wedding.’ She gazed up at him, catching her breath as she saw the heat in his eyes. ‘Anton …’
‘I want to sweep you up and—’ He broke off as Lily came up to them, looking distressed. ‘Something troubles you?’
‘Forgive me for disturbing you at your wedding feast, sir. Maddie seems to have taken a fever, and Lady Melford said that I should ask my lady to come.’
‘Surely my grandmother can manage—?’ Anton began, but Marietta smiled and put a finger to his lips.
‘If the child is ill I shall tend her. We shall be together later, my love.’
‘I shall come with you,’ he said, looking anxious now. ‘It is not like Maddie to take a fever.’
They hurried up to the nursery, where they found Lady Melford bending over the little girl’s cot. She was stroking Maddie’s forehead and looking anxious.
‘What ails her?’ Anton said. ‘Is she truly ill?’
‘I thought at first that it was simply a fever, but she does seem very hot and unwell,’ Melissa said. ‘I wanted to ask Marietta what she thought. It isn’t a teething rash—have you seen anything like this before? I do not think it is the pox.’
‘Let me see. I have treated the pox before.’ Marietta bent over the child, stroking her damp hair back from her forehead. She examined her arms and her neck and face, and then straightened up. ‘I do not believe it is the pox. Maddie was taken into the garden earlier this morning. I think she has touched something that has brought out this rash. She may have eaten something she ought not. I can make a mixture to help with the fever, and a lotion to spread on her arms and legs. Stay here with her and I shall go down to the stillroom …’ She smiled at Anton. ‘Stay and comfort her, my love. Talk to her, for your presence may calm her.’
He nodded. ‘Yes, I will stay. Though I think you are the one she needs. I believe she already thinks of you as her mother…’
Reaching the stillroom, Marietta set to work with a will. She took down various jars as she sought the herbs she needed. Maddie was not in danger but she was undoubtedly feeling ill, for she had a nasty rash and might have eaten berries that had made her unwell.
‘I wonder if I should make her sick or simply ease her …’
Marietta did not realise that she had spoken out loud until she heard a sound behind her and turned. Her eyes widened in shock and fear as she saw the man watching her. Miguel was looking at her in such a way that her blood ran cold. She was not imagining it this time! He did hate her.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, her hand going to her throat as she sensed his evil intent. ‘We thought you had returned to Spain. You tried to kill Anton.’
‘May his soul rot in hell! You saved his life with your potions and your spells, witch—but I shall kill you, and then him.’
Marietta stared at him. ‘Why do you hate me so? Why do you hate Anton? What have we done to you?’
‘You took away his guilt and his pain. He was supposed to suffer for what he did to her … my Isabella. I saw her lying there, all the life gone from her. Her eyes looked at me … such accusing eyes …’
‘Anton told me what happened. He merely asked her for the truth that day. She was his wife, and he was afraid that she had betrayed him with another … was it you.?’ Marietta saw his face twist with agony. ‘Yes—she was carrying your child. But you wanted more, didn’t you? You wanted her to run away with you, and she would not, so.’ A gasp broke from her. ‘You were there when she died. What did you do, Miguel? What did you do to her?’
‘I loved her. She was always mine. He stole her from me …’ Miguel’s eyes glittered as he moved closer to Marietta. ‘I was her friend, and then her lover. She came to me when she was unhappy and told me she did not love him. We made love, and she conceived. She was terrified that he would know the child was not his because she had not slept with him, so she went to him and asked him to love her. I tried to make her understand that it was me she loved, to persuade her to flee with me.’ His hand was shaking and she saw beads of sweat on his brow. ‘It was his fault, not mine. He was her murderer, not I …’
‘You?’ Marietta saw the truth in his eyes. ‘What did you do to her that day, Miguel? She ran from Anton because he was angry. But she didn’t fall, and she didn’t take her own life. You pushed her down those steps. It was you that killed her, not her husband.’
‘I never meant to kill her,’ Miguel said, and he was trembling. ‘She told me that her life was over, that she must go into a convent to atone for her sin. She did not enjoy marriage and felt that she had failed as a woman. Even when she lay in my arms she was afraid of giving herself. That day she was weeping, and I tried to comfort her. I tried to take her in my arms but she pushed me away, and then … she just fell …’
‘You grabbed her and she pulled away, losing her balance. and you watched her fall. You could not save her, and instead of blaming yourself you blamed Anton.’
‘It was his fault! She was mine. He stole her from me.’ Miguel cried, and then made a move to grab Marietta. ‘He took my love from me and I shall take his from him. Before he dies he will learn what it is like to lose everything.’
Marietta backed away from him, her eyes on his face. ‘You cannot bring her back. Vengeance is empty. You will still be guilty of her murder.’
‘Be quiet, witch! I intend to have my way—but first I will taste you. You will have my kiss on your lips when you die, feel the humiliation of—’
He broke off as Marietta picked up the sharp knife she had been using to peel roots and strip bark from a branch of willow. She held it in her right hand.
‘Come near me and you will feel this blade in your flesh,’ she said, and made a threatening stabbing movement. ‘The blade has been used to squash the berries of deadly nightshade. If it enters your flesh you will surely die …’
‘Witch! They were right to name you murderess. You should burn in hell for what you have done …’
‘I did not harm anyone. What little skill I have is used for good, not harm. You are the murderer. You killed Isabella by knocking her off balance so that she fell down the steps …’
‘Damn you!’ Miguel drew his sword, advancing on her menacingly. ‘I shall not drink at your poisoned well. It is enough to see you dead …’
‘Stay away from me!’ Marietta screamed as he lunged at her with his sword, jumping back, retreating to the other side of the bench where she had been working. He was between her and the door. She could only draw him on and hope to get past him as he followed. ‘Your soul is doomed to burn in hell. You cannot wash away your stain by taking my life …’
‘If I burn in hell so be it—but you will be there first!’
Miguel lunged at her again. She screamed and jumped back once more. If she could just get past him and make a dash for the door …
He had seen her intention, and moved back to cut off her flight. He laughed, his eyes glittering with hate.
‘You cannot escape. Your knife is of no use against my sword—’
‘But my sword will match yours,’ a voice rang out, and Miguel swirled round to face his new adversary. ‘It seems that you are too much a coward to face me. You prey on defenceless women, and you make sure that I am not near. Are you a coward, or will you fight me?’
‘He killed Isabella. He caused her fall, not you …’ Marietta cried.
Anton gave no sign that he had heard
her. His eyes were fixed on Miguel. Suddenly the Spaniard lunged at him with his sword. Anton sidestepped, drawing him on further into the room.
‘Run, Marietta—rouse the house …’
Marietta ran towards the door. Opening it, she screamed for help, but she did not leave. Her eyes were glued to the men who were joined in battle. The chilling sound of steel on steel was echoing through the room. She could see at once that they were evenly matched, for Miguel was also a skilled swordsman, and they were of much the same weight, though Anton was a little taller.
Marietta’s heart was in her mouth as the fight swayed one way and then the other. Anton drew the first blood, his swordtip catching Miguel’s left arm, but then Miguel struck back, his sword sliding across Anton’s shoulder but failing to pierce his heavy leather jerkin. He swore and slashed wildly, catching Anton’s arm with the tip, making the blood run. Marietta screamed again.
Anton parried, bringing his sword round with a movement that swept Miguel’s blade from his hand. Miguel’s eyes were wide with fear as he looked at Anton. For a moment Anton hesitated, then lowered the blade of his weapon.
‘I shall not kill you, for it would be to take foul advantage,’ he said. ‘You will be taken into custody and tried for attempted murder—and may God take pity on your soul.’
Anton turned towards Marietta, his eyes seeking hers. ‘Are you hurt, my love?’
As Anton turned his head, Miguel swiftly bent and retrieved his sword with his left hand. Even as he thrust it at Anton’s back, Marietta threw the knife. It pierced Miguel’s neck and he fell to the ground, a thick crimson tide bubbling as he tried to speak and failed.
Anton looked down at his fallen enemy and frowned.
‘Have I killed him?’ Marietta asked, and crossed herself. ‘God forgive me! I have murdered him.’
‘What nonsense is this?’ Anton tipped her chin, gazing down into her tear-drenched eyes. ‘Do not cry, my love. You have been brave and strong. You have done no wrong to any being—had you not thrown the knife, he would have murdered me.’
A Wayward Woman Page 44
