by Anne Herries
‘Stefan, I love you…’ she whispered. ‘I love you so much…’
She longed for him to return to her, but she did not know if she would ever see him again. Why had he left her here and gone to England? Surely if he loved her, he would have stayed to make sure that she was well? Tears trickled down her cheeks, for sometimes she felt so alone.
‘I am happy to see you well again, Mistress Melford,’ Comte De Vere said to Anne when she came downstairs the next morning. Her clothes had been sent for and she was wearing one of the gowns that she had made with the cloth Stefan had purchased for her. It suited her well, and she looked beautiful, almost regal. ‘We were very worried for a time, but my physician tended you and you have made a good recovery.’
‘I must thank you for bringing me here,’ Anne said and smiled at him. ‘My father says that you have been generous in letting us stay here while I recovered and I cannot thank you enough for all you and your people have done for me. I believe it was you that found me at the edge of the woods?’
‘I was fortunate enough to be in the right place at the right time,’ the Comte said. ‘We had been searching for you for many hours and were about to return home when I heard something. We had already looked for you in that area of the woods, but I think you must have been wandering for some time.’
‘I was very fortunate,’ Anne replied. ‘Had you not heard my cry, I might have lain there all night—and perhaps I should have died.’
‘If that had happened, I should have been most distressed. You are too young and beautiful to leave this life just yet, Mistress Melford.’
Anne saw the warmth in his eyes and blushed. Her father had told her of the Comte’s great concern for her, but she had not truly thought about it until this moment. She did not wish for his attentions, but felt conscious of the debt she owed him.
‘You are kind to say it, sir. Ali would say that it is as Allah wills, but we prefer to think of it as God’s will. Either way, I have escaped death twice and must believe that I was meant to continue to live.’
‘You speak of de Montfort’s physician. It was he that saved you after you were rescued from the sea. He is an Arab and an infidel, a believer in the Muslim religion. I dare say he is a good physician. However, I think my own as capable or better.’
Anne merely smiled. She knew that many people would feel as the Comte did, because of what Ali was by birth and religion. However, she respected the man who had saved her life and had felt happy to be his pupil and learn of many herbs and cures that she had not previously known.
‘I know only that I was grateful to him, sir.’
‘And to de Montfort as well, I dare say? He saved you from the sea and gave you a home when you had none—but things are altered now. Your father will take you home soon.’
‘Yes. He speaks of leaving in a few days.’
‘I shall miss you when you go,’ the Comte told her with a look that made Anne glance away, her cheeks warm. She wished he would not look at her that way. ‘Perhaps I may come and visit you at home one day? I should wish to make certain that you are truly well and happy again.’
‘Of course you would be welcome to visit us,’ Anne replied, for what else could she say? He had found her when she lay close to death, brought her to his home and had his physician care for her. She was still his guest and would remain so until she returned to England. Anne sensed that more lay behind the Comte’s words than he was prepared to say at that moment. She did not wish to give him false hope, but she could not be rude to him. ‘I know my mother would wish to thank you in person for all your kindness to her family.’
‘Then I may follow in a few weeks,’ he said and smiled at her. ‘In the meantime, if I hear from your brother I shall tell him that you have been found alive.’
‘Poor Harry must be so distressed,’ Anne said. ‘It was not his fault that I was swept overboard, for he asked me to go below earlier and I wished to stay on deck. The storm was magnificent to see and I found the cabin stuffy and uncomfortable.’
‘You are a very brave young woman,’ Comte De Vere said and reached for her hand. He carried it to his lips and kissed it briefly. ‘I have remarked it from the start, which is why I admire you greatly. I hope the thought of a sea voyage does not fill you with too much trepidation?’
‘I am a little nervous,’ Anne replied. ‘However, the storm was very fierce and I do not believe that such huge waves are normal. Besides, I shall go below and stay there, even if it makes me feel unwell.’
‘Yes, for your own sake and your father’s peace of mind you must,’ he replied. ‘However, it is unlikely to happen again. I have crossed the Channel safely in winter and many times in the spring and summer. I cannot think you in any danger this time.’
‘I believe you are right, sir,’ Anne replied. ‘Besides, I must risk it, for there is no other way to reach my home.’
‘Yes, that is true,’ he said. ‘You will be safe this time I am sure. I believe you may return to France one day, and I pray that next time, you will have a happier outcome.’
‘Yes, perhaps,’ Anne said. She was not sure what he meant by that statement, but if her prayers were answered she would return to France as the wife of Stefan de Montfort. If he did not come to claim her, she thought that she might remain in England for the rest of her life.
Stefan woke sweating and crying out a name. He had been dreaming of the day in the forest when he was a young man and he had discovered his brother’s body lying there, his throat cut. Gervase had been cruelly murdered and Stefan had believed he knew the name of his brother’s murderer. Stefan had recently quarrelled with one of their neighbours over his treatment of a servant. Stefan had fought with Sir Hugh, giving him the scar he carried to the end of his life. He had taken his revenge by murdering Stefan’s brother, but even that was not enough. Sir Hugh was the kind of man that harboured a grudge.
He had not been certain at the time, but Sir Hugh had admitted the truth the day he died. He had been responsible for Gervase’s death, but it was Cowper that had convinced Lord de Montfort that his elder son was a murderer. Because of his lies, Stefan had been banished from his home, cast out by his own father. He had harboured the bitterness for many years, his life hard though rewarding as he became known for his skill and cool head in battle.
He had been haunted by the need to kill his enemies, to have his revenge at any cost. Now he was torn between the need for revenge and his feelings for an innocent girl…his desire to wed her.
He could not have both. His father’s shade seemed to cry out for vengeance and yet he longed for Anne and her sweetness.
Anne had told the Comte De Vere that she was not afraid of returning home on a ship, but she could not help feeling a shiver of apprehension as she went on board. It was, however, a larger vessel than the one she had travelled on the first time, and her cabin was larger, less stuffy. She went below immediately with the maid her father had engaged for her, deciding that she would stay there until they reached port, even if she did feel sick.
Her heart beat frantically as she heard the orders to cast off and then felt the movement as the ship’s sails filled with wind. However, the sea was calm and, though there was a good stiff breeze, there was no sign of a storm. The crossing was uneventful and Anne was soon stepping on to dry land again.
‘It was not so very bad, then?’ her father said as he glanced at her face. She was smiling, looking happier than she had for a while. ‘Are you glad to be back in England?’
‘Yes, Father, I am,’ Anne said. ‘I want to see my mother again, and to meet Claire. It was unfortunate for her that my disappearance should delay her wedding. I hope that it will not be too long before Harry joins us at home and the wedding can go ahead.’
‘Comte St Orleans went home to leave a message in case Harry should make his way back there. It may be that they will meet and make the journey to England together. Otherwise, he will return immediately.’ Rob looked at his daughter thoughtfully. She seemed
quieter than she had once been and he wondered what lay behind the new face Anne showed to the world. ‘Are you thinking of Lord de Montfort?’
‘Yes, I am. We have heard nothing since he left for England. I cannot help wondering where he is and whether he has achieved his aim of bringing his enemy to justice.’
‘You wished to see me?’ Hassan asked as he went into the Great Hall to meet the visitor asking for Lord de Montfort. ‘I am not the master here, but in Lord de Montfort’s absence I stand in his stead.’ His gaze narrowed, for he had seen an older version of this man not long since. ‘Have you come in search of Mistress Melford?’
‘I received a message that Lord de Montfort might have news for me concerning the lady I searched for,’ Harry said, hope dawning in his eyes. ‘Have you found her—is she alive?’
‘Anne is alive and returned to England with her father,’ Hassan told him. ‘Lord de Montfort went to England before them, and I was about to follow. In another hour you would not have found me.’ He smiled at Harry. ‘Come, the servants will bring you wine and food and we shall talk. There are many things you should know, for they will help to ease your mind.’
‘Anne, my dearest!’ Melissa swept forward, her silk skirts rustling as she gathered her daughter into her arms and embraced her. ‘Thank God you are home and safe again. I have prayed every night and every morning since I learned that you were missing, and God has answered my prayers. At times I feared I should never see you again, but come and sit down, dearest. You must be exhausted from the journey.’
‘I am a little tired, but not exhausted,’ Anne told her. ‘I am much recovered now, Mother. I have been very ill since I last saw you, but the last time was not as serious as the first. I think I almost died then and owe my life to two people—Lord de Montfort and his physician. Ali is of Arab descent and skilled in the arts of medicines. He was teaching me many things before I was kidnapped.’
Melissa looked into her eyes, a little surprised at what she found there. Her daughter had changed, grown up since she last saw her. ‘You sound as if you were content at the Chateau de Montifiori. I had your father’s letter, but he told me only the bare facts, Anne. I would learn all of it from you, my love.’
‘I shall tell you everything, Mother,’ Anne said. ‘I could not remember your name when I was at the chateau, but I remembered your love and the things you had taught me. It was the belief that I had a mother and that she loved me, which helped me in the early days. And then I began to feel as if I belonged at the chateau.’
‘And would have remained there happily had your memory not returned?’ Melissa asked.
‘Yes, I believe so,’ Anne agreed. ‘Father has told you that I was to be married to Lord de Montfort?’
Melissa nodded, her eyes intent on her daughter’s face. ‘He told me that the marriage had been cancelled… Was that your wish, my love?’
‘No, Mother, for I was content to wed him. However, he left Normandy to come here to settle an old score with an enemy. If he loved me, would he not have waited to see how I fared?’ There was a sad, wistful expression in her eyes.
‘Perhaps,’ her mother said. ‘We shall discuss this later, Anne. I am forgetting my manners. You must come and meet Claire. She has been as anxious for your safety as any of us. She is a dear sweet girl and I am happy that she will be your brother’s wife.’
‘I have longed to meet her,’ Anne said. ‘Mother, it has worried me—will Harry be in trouble because he did not return to court at the time he should have? Will the King be angry with him?’
‘Your father sent word of Harry’s search for you before he left for France,’ Melissa said. ‘I believe the King will understand, though he may demand that Harry return as soon as he is in England. If he does, we may have to postpone the wedding for a time.’
‘That would be so unfair on Claire,’ Anne said and looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘Perhaps we might all travel to London so that the wedding may be held there?’
‘It would be a good solution to the problem,’ her mother agreed. ‘But should you wish to make the journey so soon after you returned home?’
‘I would not mind,’ Anne said. She glanced at the young woman waiting a little nervously in the Great Hall and went to greet her with a smile, her hands outstretched. ‘You must be Claire. I beg you will forgive me for the delay to your happiness. I am sure that Harry must come home soon and we shall all be together for a while.’
‘My dear sister,’ Claire said and opened her arms. They embraced warmly, emotion overwhelming them both. ‘No words of mine could ever express my joy when I heard that you were safe. Harry blamed himself dreadfully for what happened on the ship. He was sure that his parents would never forgive him for your loss.’
‘They would have grieved for me, because we are a happy family,’ Anne said and smiled. ‘I did not know how fortunate I was in my family until it was lost. I am so pleased that Harry has found you, because I know you must be special. My brother has waited some years to marry. I believe Mother had begun to think he never would.’
‘I am delighted that he had the good sense to wait until he found the right wife,’ Melissa said and looked from one to the other in content. ‘How good it is to have you both here. I think that we should invite Andrew and Catherine to stay. Your sister was much distressed when she heard of your disappearance, Anne. I know they were planning to visit the court, but delayed it until they heard news of you, my love.’
‘I should like to see Catherine again. It is a while since we met. Perhaps we should all go to London together, Mother.’
‘I shall write to them tomorrow,’ Melissa said. ‘Much depends on whether or not Harry is given leave to come home or commanded to attend the King.’
‘How dare he issue me with a challenge like this?’ Cowper demanded of the courier. ‘I am innocent of all the charges he would lay against me—and shall lay some of my own. Lord de Montfort murdered my cousin Sir Hugh and the lady Madeline. Such crimes are punishable by death and must be answered before a higher court.’
‘I am merely the messenger,’ the courier said. ‘The challenge has been issued according to the ancient law and must be answered. Lord de Montfort awaits your answer. If you will not meet him in single combat, he will lay a charge of murder and abduction against you before the King.’
‘This is mere speculation,’ Cowper cried and his hand shook as he read the paper through once more. ‘I bought this estate in good faith and the late Lord William died by his own hand when his mind became confused. As for the charge of abduction, I know nothing of it.’ He tore the paper in two and flung it in the face of the courier. ‘I shall lay charges of murder before the King. Stefan de Montfort is an adventurer and a murderer and it is time he was brought to justice.’
‘Is that the answer you would have me take back to Lord de Montfort?’
‘You have the answer, now go before I have you flogged,’ Cowper raged. ‘I will not meet him in single combat. He has no proof of any wrongdoing on my part, and cannot prove it before the court.’
The courier bowed his head. ‘I shall inform Lord de Montfort of your decision, my lord. I bid you good day.’
Cowper watched as the man left the chamber in which he sat. The remains of a meal lay scattered on the table before him, an empty wine sack discarded on the floor. The room had not been cleaned in days and the stench of rotting food emanated from rushes that were much in need of changing.
Cowper scowled. He had not dared to leave the house since he returned from France for fear that Stefan de Montfort was waiting for him. The servants went in dread of his rages, and several of them had run away. Those that remained hardly cared if they did their work, because he was drunk for the most part of the day and walked the house at night searching for assassins that might be hiding in the draughty passages.
‘Curse him! Why did he not die in some foreign land as he was meant to?’ Cowper lifted his wine cup and drained it to the dregs. Discovering that he had drunk
all that had been brought, he yelled for a servant to bring more. Some minutes passed and no one came. Cowper threw his cup at the wall and cursed furiously. Where the hell were they all? They had begun to desert him in droves, like rats leaving a sinking ship. He stank of sweat and unwashed raiment, and they knew he was losing his grip on reality. He had ruled his household by fear and he knew they all hated him, the men he had brought with him and those he had forced to work for him after their old lord died. ‘Damn the rogue! He shall not have it. I’ll write to the King…’
He searched for a quill, writing vellum and ink. His brow knit in thought as he began his accusation. It was many years since Stefan de Montfort’s brother had been murdered. His fool of a father had believed his own son capable of murder and sent him away, leaving himself vulnerable. He had soon regretted it, but under the influence of a man he believed his friend he had delayed sending for his heir until it was too late. Cowper had all he had coveted, and revenge for a love unrequited. Stefan de Montfort’s mother had rejected him in favour of an older, richer man, and Cowper had hated her, her sons and the man he believed had stolen her from him. Twisted and bitter, he had destroyed all that she had loved, but the jealousy had never left him.
A smile of malicious pleasure curved his mouth as he penned his poison, accusing Stefan of the murder of his own brother, the lady Madeline and Sir Hugh Grantham. Now the arrogant de Montfort must answer to the King. When he was dead, the debt would at last be paid.
‘We have travelled thus far together,’ Harry said when they reached the shores of England. ‘I must return at once to London, for the King may be angry with me for deserting my post. I was given a month’s leave and I have been gone more than twice that time.’
‘You searched for your sister,’ Hassan said. ‘Surely the King will listen to your plea for clemency?’
