by Anne Herries
‘He spoke too harshly to you last evening, lady,’ Ali said, because he could sense her hurt. ‘I remonstrated with him and I am sure that he will apologise to you when next he sees you.’
‘I need no apology,’ Anne replied. ‘I dare say he was distressed by what happened yesterday, as we all were.’
‘He has seen worse,’ Ali said, ‘but his own wound may be troubling him again.’
‘Lord de Montfort was wounded?’
‘Superficially yesterday,’ Ali told her. ‘However, he received a severe wound some weeks ago. It has not healed as well as it ought and could have broken open again in the fighting yesterday.’
‘I did not know he had been wounded before,’ Anne said and looked concerned. ‘He showed no sign of it.’
‘Would you expect him to? To complain of pain would show weakness. He would never let his feelings show. A man, who has seen the things and suffered as Lord de Montfort has, learns to hide his pain.’
‘No, I suppose he would not.’
Anne was thoughtful as she tended the wounded, working carefully and methodically as Ali directed her. The men all welcomed her with a smile and she talked to them, as she would a brother, as she offered each a cup with the carefully measured potion. She was unaware that Lord de Montfort had come into the hall and was watching her until she straightened up and saw him standing there, his eyes intent on her.
‘You are compassionate, Anne,’ he said as she came to him. ‘The men are grateful to you.’
She met his gaze with a quiet pride. ‘I do not forget that they were injured helping to save your life and perhaps mine.’
‘You would certainly have been killed,’ Stefan told her, his expression grave. ‘You could not have been allowed to live to tell the tale of an unprovoked attack.’
‘No, I do not suppose I could,’ Anne replied and looked at him with troubled eyes. ‘Is there no one who would support you, sir? Can you not have this enemy taken before the courts?’
‘I asked an audience of King Henry of England,’ Stefan said and frowned. ‘I was refused a hearing. Lord Cowper has powerful friends at court. I might be heard by Louis of France, but Cowper would have returned to England before anything could be done.’
‘That is unfair,’ Anne said, feeling angry. ‘I am sure that my father would support you if he knew—’ She broke off, her eyes widening. ‘I believe my father hath influence with the King…’
‘What have you remembered, Anne?’
‘I remember a man being angry once when I was a child. I cannot see his face, but I know my mother was upset and she said that he should use his influence with the King.’ She placed the palms of her hands to her cheeks. ‘Sometimes I feel the past is very close. I can almost see it and I dream…’ She shook her head, gazing up at him with real distress. ‘Why can I not remember who I am? I remember things my mother taught me, but not my name or hers.’
‘I believe everything will come back to you soon,’ Stefan told her and his tone was gentle, for he had sensed her grief. ‘You must be patient, Anne, and perhaps soon we shall discover something that will help you.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I learned yesterday that the man you saw from the inn was seeking a woman who might have been rescued from the sea. It seems highly likely that it is you he is looking for and I have set one of my men to searching for him. Once he is found, he will come here and then perhaps you will remember.’
‘Perhaps…’ Anne frowned. ‘Last night I dreamed of someone. I think his name may have been Harry. I think he may be my brother for I called to him to save me when I was swept into the sea. Yes, I think he may be my brother…’ She stared at him in wonder. ‘I am almost certain of it, but I still do not remember my name or my home.’
‘Is that what happened to you—were you swept overboard in the storm?’
‘In my dream I was swept overboard by a huge wave, but it was just a dream. I cannot tell if it was true.’
‘No, for our dreams are often distortions of the life we live,’ Stefan agreed. He looked serious. ‘If I was harsh with you yesterday I ask you to forgive me, Anne. I was angry, but you were not the cause and I should not have spoken as I did.’
‘You were distressed at the injury to Eric,’ Anne said. ‘He is being nursed separately from the others, for he was the most seriously hurt, but Ali told me he is as well as could be expected.’
‘Yes, he lives,’ Stefan said grimly. ‘No thanks to the devils who tried to murder me!’
‘You must lay your complaints before the King again,’ Anne said. ‘I would testify for you. You were attacked for no reason and the man responsible should surely be arrested and imprisoned.’
‘You would not be heard. Do you think they would listen to a woman? They would think you my mistress and deny you a hearing.’
‘But that is so unfair!’ Anne cried.
‘Life is oft unfair. Have you finished here?’ Stefan asked, as if he wished to dismiss the subject. ‘The things we ordered yesterday were delivered this morning and I have ordered them taken to your room. However, if you have time I would walk with you in the garden.’
‘I thank you for your generosity towards me,’ Anne said. ‘And I should like to walk with you, sir. Was there something you wished to ask me?’
‘You recall that I met some neighbours at the inn yesterday?’ Stefan asked as they left the house and went into the walled garden. The sun was warm and the scent of the flowers wafted towards them, carried by the light breeze. Anne nodded, slightly puzzled. ‘Since I purchased this house I have remained much in seclusion from choice. However, you spoke to Sulina of guests and I have thought that perhaps it is time I became acquainted with others who live near me. It is many years since I had anywhere that I could truthfully call a home, but what I meant to say was—would it trouble you to arrange a dinner for perhaps ten guests?’
‘You would like me to plan this entertainment for you?’ Anne was surprised and then pleased. ‘It would not trouble me at all. I should enjoy the task, sir.’ It would be a way of repaying him for all his kindness to her. She would be a part of his life, of use to him, instead of just someone he had pulled from the sea.
‘I should want to provide everything that you think necessary for a dinner fit for a gentleman and his friends. I fear I have grown lax these past years and my tastes tend towards eastern dishes. You would need to instruct my cooks what to prepare and the servants on how the food should be served.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘I think it would be a hard task—do I ask too much?’
‘No, of course you do not,’ Anne said. ‘I had planned to begin waxing the furniture today, but Ali needed help. When were you thinking of holding this dinner?’
‘Shall we say in ten days?’ Stefan bent to pick a dark red rose. She noticed that he was a little stiff, as if his side pained him. ‘Would that give you time to prepare?’ He held the rose to his nostrils, inhaling the perfume, and then handed it to Anne. ‘This is one of my favourites.’
Anne took the rose and smelled it. ‘That is gorgeous,’ she said. She would keep it and treasure it, because it had come from his hand. ‘I think ten days is perfect— most of the men will be well again by then. Do I have your permission to set the servants their work in the house?’
‘Yes, of course. If you need more help, I can send to the village. I have not bothered, but I think perhaps a house like this needs many servants to keep it as it should be.’
‘You need a…housekeeper or a steward to order the servants,’ Anne said. She had almost said a wife, but stopped herself just in time. ‘But I shall be happy to fill that position while I stay here.’ She hesitated, then, ‘Should you not ask Ali to look at your side, my lord?’
‘Ali has others more in need of his services for now,’ Stefan said. ‘I was not cut; it is merely bruising that a salve will cure.’
‘But you cannot rub salve into your own side,’ Anne said. ‘Would you allow me to do it for you?’
His eyes seemed
to blaze at her for a moment and she trembled inwardly. Had she made him angry again?
‘Forgive me. It is not my place…’ She was immediately uncertain again, fearful of making him angry.
‘There is nothing to forgive.’ Stefan’s mouth relaxed into a smile. ‘I do not think that it would be sensible for you to tend me, lady. I find you too…disturbing. I am a rough soldier and used to taking what I want of the women I meet—women who are not as you are, Anne. Such intimacy might be more than I could bear, and I might take advantage of your sweet innocence.’
The look in his eyes made Anne’s heart race wildly. What was he saying to her? As he gazed down at her she felt a sensation of melting, of such sweet longing that she wanted him to take her in his arms and kiss her. She had never felt anything like this in her life and it thrilled and yet frightened her. She hardly knew this man and yet she was almost ready to surrender herself to him.
‘Stefan…my lord…’ The spell was broken as she saw Hassan approaching them. He inclined his head to her, his ugly features softened by a smile.
‘We have visitors, my lord. The Chevalier Renard and his sister have this minute arrived. Sulina took them to the parlour the lady Anne has been using, because she says it is the only one that has been properly cleaned— and the hall is being used to nurse the wounded.’
‘I shall come at once,’ Stefan told him. He held out his hand to Anne. ‘You must come too. Do not forget, Anne, I have told them you are my kinswoman.’
‘I will remember that.’
‘I believe that for the moment that may be best,’ Stefan said. He looked thoughtful. ‘Shall we meet our guests and ask their advice about whom we should invite to our feast?’
Mademoiselle Maria Renard was a pretty young woman, vivacious and good humoured. Anne liked her immediately. She said at once that she had plagued her brother to bring her that morning because she had heard that Lord de Montfort had a guest staying.
‘I caught a glimpse of you at the inn and was curious,’ Maria admitted to Anne softly when the gentlemen had removed themselves to another part of the chamber. ‘We are all curious about Lord de Montfort’s household, for the rumours abound. We have heard tales of his bravery, and his courage, but no one really knows much about him. I could not come here while he lived alone with just his servants, but as soon as I understood from Charles that he had a lady staying here I was determined to visit. I am so glad I did, for we shall be friends, I think.’
‘You are very kind,’ Anne said, warmed by her engaging manner. ‘And your visit is well timed for my… cousin and I were just talking of giving a dinner for his neighbours. Lord de Montfort believes it is time he became acquainted with his neighbours and he means to ask your brother whom he ought to invite.’
‘Well, you must invite us, because I should just die if you did not,’ Maria said and threw a laughing glance across the room at Stefan. ‘But you must invite the Chevalier Lamont, his wife and their two sons, of course, for they live a few leagues to the east of our manor. And there is Madame Dupré and her son Armand—she has land to the west. I do not care for her, for she is very proud and talks of nothing but how different things were when she was young. Your other important neighbour is the Comte Henri De Vere. He lives in great state and I am not sure he would accept, but he should be invited. He was widowed two years ago and they say he looks for a wife, but I do not know if it is true, though I dare say it may be, for he has no heir.’
‘There are not many ladies amongst the guests,’ Anne said with a little frown. ‘Are there no more we could ask?’
‘Well…there is Madame Leclerc,’ Maria said, but looked doubtful. ‘She does not often accept invitations. She was once the mistress of Comte De Vere. I am not sure, but I think they quarreled.’
‘I see…’ Anne was thoughtful. ‘Well, I shall consult with Lord de Montfort and see what he has to say.’
‘How long do you stay here?’ Maria asked. ‘We must meet as often as we can. Do you ride?’
‘Yes, but I am not sure that there is anything suitable for me to ride in the stables.’
‘Have you a palfrey that Anne may ride?’ Maria asked of Stefan as he glanced their way. ‘If not, my brother will provide a horse for her so that she may ride with me.’
‘Would you like to ride?’ Stefan asked, looking at Anne directly.
‘Yes, I think I should.’
‘Then I shall make sure we have something suitable.’
‘I cannot ride tomorrow, for I have a prior engagement,’ Maria said. ‘But on the following day you must come to us, eat your dinner with us. Charles will see you safely home, will you not, brother?’
Her brother gave her an indulgent look. ‘If it is your pleasure, you know I shall. Mademoiselle de Montfort is welcome to visit us whenever she pleases.’
Anne almost protested that she was not Mademoiselle de Montfort, but changed her mind. She had no blood claim on Lord de Montfort; if her new friend knew the truth, she might not wish to continue the friendship. It was highly irregular for a young, unmarried woman to reside in the house of a single gentleman, especially when they were unrelated. Maria would think the worst and she would certainly not ask her to visit, nor would she think it proper to visit here.
It was a little uncomfortable to deceive her new friend, but Anne pushed the guilt from her mind. Her circumstances were awkward, but there was little she could do about it so she allowed the misconception to stand unchecked. Until she remembered her name— or someone came to claim her—she could do nothing else.
‘You will forgive the intrusion,’ Harry said as he was admitted to the Comte De Vere’s elegant salon a day or so after his visit to Cherbourg. ‘I have been making inquiries in the area concerning my sister, Anne Melford. She was lost at sea some weeks ago. I was told that a gentleman plucked a young woman from the sea— perhaps a lord or a nobleman who might live in this region of Normandy. Unfortunately, the sailor did not recall the gentleman’s name.’
‘And you are?’ The Comte looked at him, one eyebrow raised. He glanced down at the letter that had been handed to him. ‘Ah, yes, Sir Harry Melford, a courtier of some note, I see. Comte St Orleans is a friend of mine. His letter asks me to give you all the assistance I can, sir. I fear that I am unable to help you at this moment. I have heard nothing of such an occurrence. However, should I hear something I would certainly send word. Where are you staying?’
‘I am travelling from town to town,’ Harry replied and sighed. ‘When I first heard that a young woman had been rescued, I thought it would be easy to find the man who had taken her, but it has proved difficult. No one seems to have heard anything. It is strange—one would have thought something like that would occasion some talk.’
‘Unless it has been kept quiet for some particular reason,’ the Comte said. ‘Your family have not received a ransom note? It might be that some unscrupulous person is keeping her for nefarious purposes of his own, of course. Is she a pretty girl?’
‘Anne is very attractive. I suppose she might be called beautiful, for she has golden hair and greenish-blue eyes.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘I do not know if a ransom has been asked for her, because I have not been home. I sent out agents, as did the Comte St Orleans, and it was through his good offices that I was given a lead. He has taken Mademoiselle St Orleans to my home in England, for we are to marry. I stayed here to continue the search.’
‘I am sorry I could not have been more helpful,’ the Comte told him. ‘What will you do if you find no trace of her?’
‘I intend to move on further north tomorrow,’ Harry said, ‘and then I shall return to England.’
‘If you return this way, call and see me again,’ the Comte said. ‘I shall make certain inquiries in the district. As it happens, I am invited to dine with Lord de Montfort in a few days. I shall ask my neighbours if they have heard anything. If I should discover anything, I will send a letter to your home, unless I see you first.’
Harry smiled and of
fered his hand. ‘I thank you for your hospitality, sir, and your kindness. If you hear even the smallest detail, do not hesitate to contact me. I must soon return to my duties at court, but I know my father would make the journey here if I could not. He will, I am certain, offer a reward for any information leading to the whereabouts of a girl who could be my sister. She is precious to her family and will be much missed.’
‘It may be best not to mention a reward, for there are unscrupulous rogues about,’ the Comte said. ‘However, I would hope that whoever has your sister will ask for a ransom for her. Of course, if she did not long survive her ordeal, it may be that she has since died and the man who rescued her does not know who she was…’ He shrugged his shoulders—it was not his concern. He would make inquiries, but would not trouble himself to do more, unless it suited him.
‘Yes, that is a possibility,’ Harry said. ‘It grieves me that she may be buried in an unmarked grave. My parents will know that she is lost by now and I cannot think how this hurts them.’
His face reflected his sorrow. He bore the guilt of Anne’s loss and the thought of his mother’s pain lay heavy on his mind.
‘It grieves me to be the bearer of such news,’ Comte St Orleans said as he sat closeted with Lord Melford. ‘We were delayed on our journey, because the ship was held in port. The weather was stormy and I would not risk the crossing until it settled.’
‘Very wise,’ Rob said, a nerve flicking at his temple. The news of Anne’s loss had shocked him, and he knew that Melissa was in her bedchamber weeping. She would emerge soon and there would be few signs of her grief, but the worst nightmare for any mother was to lose a child. ‘I wonder that Harry did not write to us sooner, for I might have gone out there to help in the search.’
‘I believe that he wished to find her himself if it were possible,’ Comte St Orleans said. ‘He blames himself for her loss, but I can tell you that he was knocked unconscious to stop him jumping into the sea to search for her.’
‘Had he done so, we should have been grieving for a son as well as a daughter,’ Rob said. ‘We are glad to have you with us, sir—and to welcome your daughter to our family. Harry told me what a beautiful girl Claire was and now I see it for myself. I just wish that things were happier so that we might even now be preparing for the joyous occasion of their wedding.’
