by Anne Herries
‘Edmund would never have stolen even half a loaf from my father,’ Stefan said. ‘But Cowper is a clever man. He found it easy to convince my father that I had murdered my brother in cold blood. I found Gervase lying in the forest with his hands bound and his throat cut. I know it was either Sir Hugh or Cowper himself who murdered my brother, but because Gervase and I had quarrelled violently that very morning, my father chose to believe I was guilty. He disowned me, told me to leave England or he would hand me over to the King for justice. If he would believe that of his eldest son, how much easier was it to convince him that his steward had been robbing him for years?’
A nerve was flicking at Stefan’s temple. The injustice that had been done him when he was a young man still rankled deep inside him. He had taken his sword and a horse when he rode away from his home at the edge of the great forest of Sherwood, finding a ship bound for France. From there he had travelled to many lands, hiring his sword to any merchant or prince that would take him. He had grown rich on the spoils of war, and it was not for money that he had returned to England. His hope of reconciliation with his father had ended with the news of his death, and the discovery that Lord Cowper now owned everything that ought by rights to have been Stefan’s.
His request for an audience with King Henry had been denied. His reputation as a mercenary had gone before him and his claims were dismissed without due hearing. His father had disowned him and Cowper had the deeds to the land and house, signed and witnessed by a man of impeccable character—Sir Hugh Grantham. How King Henry would have felt if he had learnt that during his years on a so-called pilgrimage to the Holy Land, Sir Hugh had murdered, raped and lived as a slaver, growing rich on his ill-gotten goods, would never be known for the words would never now be heard. Even more damning might be the suspicion that Sir Hugh was in the pay of Spain and therefore an enemy of England. Since the death of Queen Isabella, relations between England and Spain were not as warm as they had once been.
Stefan knew that his accusations of murder and trickery would fall on deaf ears once he was refused a private audience with Henry of England. Indeed, the English estate meant little to him, for he now owned a beautiful chateau and extensive lands in Normandy, much of which had been granted to him by the French king in return for a large payment of gold and silver. It was the bitterness of knowing that his father had died neglected and mistreated, and the way he had been driven from his birthright by wicked lies that gnawed at Stefan’s guts and made him thirst for revenge.
Stefan was thoughtful as he dismounted. One of his enemies was now dead, but the other remained, as vicious as a poison adder and twice as dangerous. It would not be so easy to get to Lord Cowper, for he stayed within the confines of his manor house, protected by an army of servants and armed men, afraid of the vengeance that threatened while Stefan lived and breathed. His attempts to have his enemy murdered would only become more determined now that Sir Hugh was dead.
Stefan squatted down on the earth, his back to a tree as Hassan examined the wound, applying salves that had been made by skilled men of Arabia. A fierce fight had ensued during their escape from the house, during which Stefan had received a wound to his side, which pained him far more than the scratch to his thigh inflicted by Sir Hugh.
‘You will do for a few hours,’ Hassan said as he bound him tightly, ‘but the wound should be tended by a physician.’
‘I would trust none in this country; the physicians here are ignorant and hidebound by conventions,’ Stefan muttered, gritting his teeth against the pain. ‘We must go home to France, Hassan. I cannot fight in this condition. We need more men and we must be careful. The law here protects Cowper. I want him to pay for his crimes, but I have to find a way to prove his guilt. I must have incontrovertible proof and I must find someone who stands high in the King’s favour to present it—or at least to help me gain a hearing at court.’
‘Aye, but first we must make our way to the coast and find a ship,’ Hassan said. ‘You will rest better at home in Normandy. Once you are healed, we can find a way to take revenge for what has been done here.’
‘I want justice for my father’s shade,’ Stefan said. ‘Otherwise his face will haunt my dreams. Sir Hugh is dead, and I believe it was he who murdered my brother, but it is Cowper that has my father’s lands.’ His eyes were as cold as the North Sea. ‘I swear by all I hold dear that he shall pay with his life one day…’
Anne heard her father’s voice as she paused outside his chambers. She knew that Harry was with him and they had been talking for a long time. Lord Melford would be delighted with the news that his son had decided to marry, but would he be as pleased with the revelation that the bride was French?
Anne knocked at the door and was invited to enter. Her father looked at her as she did so, his brows lifting. ‘Your mother has sent you to fetch us to table, I dare say?’
‘Yes, Father. Mother says that supper is ready, and she wants to talk to Harry.’
‘In other words, I have kept you too long to myself, Hal,’ his father told him with a smile. ‘We must not keep Lady Melford waiting another second. She will want to hear all you can tell her about the lovely lady you intend to ask to wed you.’
Anne realised that her father was happy with the marriage. He did not mind that the lady Claire St Orleans was French, and that pleased Anne, for she would not have wished her brother to be disappointed.
Lord Melford’s eyes came to rest on his daughter. ‘As for you, miss, your brother has made a request of me that I am minded to grant, but we must ask your mother first. She may not agree that you should go with Harry to fetch the lady Claire home to us.’
‘Go with Harry?’ Anne’s pulses leaped with excitement as she looked at her brother. ‘Do you mean it? May I truly come to France with you?’
‘Father has given his permission if Mother agrees,’ Harry told her and grinned. ‘I thought it might be a good thing if Claire met someone from my family, someone who thinks well of me and will reassure her that I am to be trusted. Otherwise she might refuse me.’
‘Oh, Harry, thank you,’ Anne cried, her excitement bubbling over. ‘I should like that so very much.’
‘Well, we must ask your mother first,’ Lord Melford said, but with an indulgent look. ‘Had circumstances not interfered, you would have been taken to court at least once before this, Anne. It may do you good to see something of the world outside this house and our village. We have excellent neighbours, but few young men of your age. It is possible that you may meet someone in Harry’s company. On your return from France, you will go with him to London, and make your long-delayed appearance there. Lady Melford and I will come up to join you. We shall all return here for the wedding.’
Anne’s smile lit up her eyes. It was all she had longed for—an adventure that would take her somewhere far away from her home. To visit London had once been the extent of her dreams, but France conjured such pictures in her mind, though she had little to go on except for stories that Harry sometimes told her about the French court. He was one of King Henry’s trusted courtiers and had visited several countries in his Majesty’s service. She knew that he spoke both French and Spanish fluently, so perhaps it was not surprising that his choice had fallen on a French lady.
‘It is so good of you to take me, Harry,’ she told him excitedly. ‘You are the very best of brothers!’
‘I hope you will tell Claire that,’ Harry said. ‘I have gifts for both you and Mother in my saddlebags. It is as well that the fair is coming tomorrow, for you will need a new gown before we leave, Anne.’
‘When are we to leave?’ Anne asked.
‘In three days,’ her brother replied. ‘I have a month before I need to return to court. I know that Henry has further work for me soon, but he has granted me leave to visit my home and to fetch my bride home…if she will have me. I shall need to spend time at Claire’s home, and if we marry I shall wish some time alone with her before I return to my duties, so the sooner we start our jou
rney, the better.’
‘How could she refuse you?’ Anne asked. She was surprised and thrilled that her brother wanted her to accompany him. ‘When I tell her how kind and generous you are, she will be happy to wed you.’
It was as they returned home from the fair that afternoon that the news came to Melford of a terrible murder in Shrewsbury.
‘Lady Madeline Forester and her uncle, Sir Hugh Grantham, were brutally slain,’ Lord Melford told his family when they gathered that evening. ‘Sir Hugh’s men tried to stop the murderers escaping and they wounded one, but unfortunately the rogues escaped.’
‘That is awful,’ Melissa said, her eyes dark with shock as she looked at her husband. ‘When did this terrible thing happen?’
‘It must be two days gone,’ Rob replied.
‘And do they know the names of these evil men?’
‘The messenger did not say. Apparently one was dark-skinned, perhaps a Saracen, from the east certainly, and the other might have been Spanish or French. He did not look English, I am told, but that might mean anything.’
‘I did not care for Sir Hugh,’ Melissa, said frowning slightly. ‘But the lady Madeline was pleasant enough, though I have met her but once. Her elder sister died tragically by her own hand some years ago I believe. There was some story of her having been with child.’
‘She was to be betrothed to Gervase de Montfort,’ Rob said. ‘Few knew of the arrangement, for I believe it was not spoken of—and he was murdered. Some say by his own brother, though I have always wondered if there was some mystery there. However, Stefan de Montfort left England and the scandal was hushed up. He would be Lord de Montfort since his father’s death, of course, though there is nothing left of the estate. Lord Cowper purchased it when the old man lost his fortune.’
‘That is a sad story, Father,’ Anne said and shivered. ‘And now the lady Madeleine has been murdered and her uncle with her…who could do such a terrible thing?’
‘It may have been robbers,’ Rob replied. ‘I do not know of anyone living locally that answers the description of the men involved. Perhaps they were just passing through. I doubt that it would have been local men.’
Anne remembered the two strangers she had seen on the day of Harry’s arrival. She wondered if she ought to mention them to her father but decided against it. Even if they were the men who had murdered the lady Madeline and her uncle, they would be long gone by now, and she could not be certain that they had been anywhere near Shrewsbury…though they had seemed to come from that direction. She decided to say nothing. If the travellers had passed through it was best if they went unheeded and were never seen again, for if they had brutally murdered a lady and a knight, they would murder anyone else who got in their way.
The seamstresses had sat up all night to finish Anne’s new gown, which was made of a dark emerald green silk and became her well. She would not wear it on the journey but keep it for when they arrived at the Comte’s chateau in France. It was packed into her trunk with all her very best things and was on the baggage cart, which had started out some hours earlier so as to be at the arranged meeting place by the time they arrived.
Anne hugged her mother excitedly, thanking her for allowing her to accompany Harry to fetch his bride home. It was such an adventure, for she would go to court when she returned to England and who knew what might happen then? She might even meet a handsome young man in France!
‘Be mindful of your brother and remember your manners,’ Melissa said as she kissed Anne’s cheek. ‘You are sometimes inclined to be hasty, dearest, though I know you have a good heart.’
‘I promise I shall do all that you would wish,’ Anne said, her lovely face serious. She had never been parted from her mother in her life and realised that she would miss her and her young brother. ‘I shall do nothing that would make either you or Father ashamed of me.’
‘I know that you have oft thought of marriage, but be careful where you give your heart,’ Melissa said. ‘I was fortunate to find your father, and Catherine is happy with Andrew. I would wish for you to be as fortunate in your marriage, my love.’
‘I shall heed your warning, dearest Mother,’ Anne promised. ‘I thought once that my heart was given, and that he would ask me to marry him one day—but it was not to be and I shall be careful in future.’
Anne’s groom came forward then to help her mount her palfrey. She realised that Harry was waiting and she broke away from her mother. Her eyes were moist as she waved goodbye to them; parting was harder than she had anticipated. However, after they had been riding for a few hours the shadows passed and her excitement began to mount once more.
That night they stopped at an inn that Harry had frequented before and the rooms were the best the host had to offer. Anne’s maid had accompanied them and she slept on a truckle bed beside the bed where Anne lay, the sound of her snores keeping her mistress awake for a while.
When Anne awoke her maid was still snoring gently.
Anne slipped from the bed and looked out of the window. She was in time to see two men on horseback; they were leaving and had obviously stayed overnight, though she had seen nothing of them—it had been late when they arrived and she had gone straight to her chamber. There was something familiar about the travellers, but it was not until some minutes later that she remembered the strangers who had come to her village. The man who looked as if he might be from the East—and the man who had looked at her so coldly!
Were they wicked murderers? Anne shuddered as it occurred to her that they might all have been slain as they slept, but then common sense returned. She was still alive and as far as she knew no one else had been attacked during the night. The travellers might be quite innocent and it was a good thing that she had not spoken to anyone about her suspicions.
They continued their journey after they had broken their fast in the inn parlour. All seemed peaceful and the host was as cheerful and friendly as the previous night. Clearly no evil deeds had been done here and Anne put the two men out of her mind. She was too interested in looking about her on the road for she had never been this way before.
When they reached the port on the third day, Anne was glad to see the inn where they would stop for the night. She was not used to so much riding, and, though she would not have confessed it to her brother, her back ached and she was weary. The hour was too late to see much, but the tall masts of a ship were visible in the small harbour. Despite her weariness as she sought her bed that night, Anne was once again excited. She had never been on a ship before and she felt that it would be a true adventure.
‘If you feel a little ill at first, you must not mind it,’ Harry told her before they parted that night. ‘Many people are seasick, Anne, but if we have good weather it should not be too bad. It is only if the sea becomes really rough that the effects are truly unpleasant.’
‘I hope I do not feel sick, because I want to spend as much time on deck as I can,’ Anne told her brother, eyes bright with enthusiasm. ‘I have never been to the sea, Harry, but I love the smell of it already. I cannot wait for the morning.’
‘Well, we must break our fast at six, for the tide leaves at seven.’ Harry smiled at her. ‘Sleep well, sister. Never fear that I shall fail to wake you.’
Anne thanked him, then left straight for bed. She fell asleep quickly, for she was tired.
She was awake at dawn and dressed when he came to knock at her door. She opened it to him and smiled, eager to begin the next part of their journey. Surely being carried over the sea in a ship must be less tiring than riding a horse for so many leagues?
Watching all the people going on board was interesting. The cargo was being loaded as they arrived, bales of good English wool that would be sold in France and traded for lace, French wines and other goods. Anne was reluctant to go below to their cabin, but Harry insisted it would be safer for her until they were underway. The ship’s crew was busy and passengers would only be a nuisance until they had cleared the harbour.
; Anne went down to the cabin she had been allocated for the voyage. It seemed small and airless and she felt restless until the ship began to move and Harry told her that she could come up on deck.
‘Sailors are sometimes superstitious about women on board,’ Harry told her as they stood on deck and watched the shores of England receding into the distance. ‘I thought it best you should stay below until we were under sail, because with all the activity on deck accidents can happen. Mother would never forgive me if you were hurt, Anne.’
‘Why should anything happen?’ Anne asked and laughed, because she was feeling so pleased with life. The sea was calm and the sky above their heads was a beautiful azure blue. ‘It was so good of you to bring me, Harry. I love being at sea. Everything is so exciting!’
‘We are fortunate in the weather,’ Harry said and glanced up at the sky. ‘I heard one of the sailors say he expected a storm before nightfall, but I cannot believe it when the sky is so blue.’
‘A storm?’ Anne asked and shook her head. ‘I am sure he is mistaken, Harry. It is a lovely summer day— how could there be a storm?’
Anne wondered how it was possible for the weather to change so fast. One minute the skies had been clear blue, and then clouds started to drift across the sky; small and fluffy at first, they gradually became one mass of grey. As the afternoon wore on the wind began to rise and the sea became much rougher, the waves rising higher and higher so that by the time the light faded the ship was being tossed about like a child’s toy in a giant’s hand.
Most of the passengers had gone below to their cabins, and Anne had seen several of them being sick over the side of the ship. She wondered if it would affect her, but she seemed to be immune to the sickness that others were suffering.
‘Do you not think you would be better below?’ Harry asked when the storm worsened and the spray came right over the sides of the ship.
Anne shook her head. The wind whipped her hair about her face and she could taste the salt spray on her lips, but she found the storm exhilarating. She looked beautiful, a recklessness about her that made her brother laugh.
