Chosen for the Marriage Bed

by Anne O'Brien

  ‘I’ll not willingly put your life in any jeopardy,’ Richard said, weighing up the dangers. ‘But Sir John can, I presume, be trusted to deal with us in a civilised manner on his territory. He would not choose to soil his own lair. And you are of his own blood after all. Lady Ellen would be more than pleased to welcome you.’ He smiled at her, suddenly, devastatingly, warming her blood. ‘I’ll send a messenger to tell him we’ll come. Then he can have no excuse that he was taken by surprise,’ he added, drily cynical. ‘I’d not wish to be repulsed as an invading force.’

  ‘It’s David’s birthday within two weeks.’

  ‘Well, then. What better time for a loving sister to visit her brother?’

  Elizabeth returned his smile, and on impulse leaned forwards to press a fleeting brush of her lips to the corner of his mouth. An impromptu gesture that surprised her as much as it surprised him.

  ‘We seem to be very much in agreement suddenly, my wife!’

  ‘Do we not.’

  ‘If you can arrange for some hot water, perhaps you would care to help me scrub the dust and debris of the roads from my suffering skin? Then I might be in a fit state to kiss you properly. As well as other gestures of my esteem…’ His glance speculative, he brushed the pad of his thumb along the line of her jaw. ‘And you can welcome me home in a manner completely suitable for a wife to show her appreciation of her lord.’

  Swiftly Richard drew her close, hard against him, regardless of the dust and sweat, and captured her mouth with his. His hand smoothed slowly down her side, along the length of her from breast to hip. Came to a stop. He lifted his head. His hand moved again, to stroke over the fullness of hip, the dip of waist, back to the undeniable swell of breast.

  She looked up quizzically, but with a glint of mischief.

  ‘Curves, are they? Now when did you get these?’

  Pleasure rippled through her, from her own sat is faction and Richard’s awareness. Her reply was for Elizabeth positively arch. ‘When you were not looking, it seems.’

  ‘Perhaps I should look more closely.’ Richard again framed her face with his hands, now aware of the flattering fullness that overlay her cheek bones, drawing attention to her magnificent eyes, the delicate arch of dark brows. The renewed demand in his loins, the force of his erection, thundered in his head. And this time his mouth held a heated promise that tingled through her blood, into her bones. ‘Can we manage the hot water soon?’ he whispered against the curve of her throat.

  ‘It can be arranged, my lord,’ she gasped, now as aware as he. ‘Immediately.’

  Elizabeth turned away to hide the sudden rush of heat to her face, the pleasure that sang in her heart. Yes, she had missed him, whatever her doubts and uncertain ties, and she would welcome him home.

  ‘So, what would you wager, lady? Will they open the gates? Or will Sir John drive us off in a hail of arrows?’ Richard shifted in his saddle as his substantial armed escort drew rein on a slight rise, allowing them to look down on the principal source of power of the de Lacy family. Before them rose the brooding grey walls, the raised draw bridge and lowered portcullis of Talgarth.

  Elizabeth did not know. Solid in her chest was a knot of fore boding and she under stood Richard’s reluctance. ‘Perhaps we shouldn’t have come.’

  ‘It was not my choice, if you recall,’ he responded sardonically.

  Elizabeth glanced across at the compressed lips, the heavily engraved line between his brows. ‘I’m sorry. But you did agree.’

  There was no softening in him, instead the brutal truth. ‘I had to bring you to prove to you I have David’s interests at heart, did I not, after you and your family would accuse me of murdering Lewis!’

  Which made Elizabeth bite her tongue. Such residual bitterness still between them when Richard let down his guard. The accusations of Sir John, and her own ambivalent acceptance of his oath to her that he was innocent, still rankled. The edgy silence between them stretched uneasily.

  ‘There’s a magpie on the branch to our left.’ Behind them Jane Bringsty muttered with a hunch of her shoulders, apropos of nothing at all. ‘It’s looking at us. It’s not a good omen.’

  No one replied to that. Elizabeth cast a glance at the iridescent magnificence of the bird. No, it was not a good omen, but they had come this far. She shortened her reins and kicked her mount on to Talgarth.

  The Malinders were to spend only two days at Talgarth. They were not turned away at the gates of the massive barbican, but it was made clear that they were accepted within the walls under sufferance. As their horses and escort were led away to their accommodations, the Malinders were bowed into the Great Hall with all the chilly hauteur that Sir John would have accorded an enemy whose presence he must tolerate. There on the dais stood Sir John himself with cold eyes, Lady Ellen smiling bravely at his side, risking her lord’s disfavour with any show of warmth. Behind them Master Capel, black and brooding as one of the crows that gave their harsh cries over the battlements. Or perhaps more likely a bird of prey, Elizabeth decided, as she felt the power of the hooded eyes rest on them. And then there was David, who responded immediately as his heart prompted. Despite the warning lift of Sir John’s hand, he leapt from the dais to hug his sister with obvious pleasure.

  ‘Elizabeth! And Richard. I have so much to tell you. It is an age since…well, since I saw you last.’ Elizabeth felt relief flood her body at his obvious well-being. But the relief was short-lived. For the bright welcome in his face was suddenly quenched, as a candle-flame under a snuffer, his lips folded in a straight line, giving his face an edgy maturity. There was trouble here, if she were not mistaken. But she could hardly broach that until they were alone.

  ‘I think you have grown,’ she merely stated instead. ‘You are almost as tall as I.’

  David would have replied, but was called to order by Sir John, who brusquely acknowledged the presence of the visitors in his home. Richard replied with equal composure and a curt inclination of his head. Ellen expressed her quiet pleasure. Master Capel preserved his habitual silence. Then the Malinders were shepherded away to the guest chambers.

  ‘Do you know the sign against the evil eye?’ Richard murmured to Elizabeth as they climbed the stair behind Sir John’s uncommunicative steward.

  Elizabeth, brows climbing at such an unexpected request, glanced around to Jane, who followed close behind. Jane looked away. ‘Yes,’ she admitted.

  ‘Then I suggest you use it. For all our sakes.’

  ‘Master Capel?’ Elizabeth too had picked up the strange implacability behind the calm stare that had flickered over the guests. It had been almost impossible to overlook it. The fervour, almost antagonism, the eyes that would search out every secret, every weakness. Elizabeth shivered at the memory.

  Richard waited until the steward had gone, the door closed. ‘Master Capel indeed. I wonder what his role might be in this house hold? What can possess Sir John to keep such a man at his side?’

  ‘They say he is a necromancer,’ Jane Bringsty interjected with flat certainty.

  Elizabeth sighed. ‘So I think. I don’t like to think of David being here.’

  ‘No. Nor I.’ Richard cast an eye around the rooms assigned to them. ‘Capel makes me think of bats and toads.’ He grimaced at his fanciful thoughts as he strode to look out of the window to the mist-shrouded hills of Brecon that hemmed them in. ‘I shall be glad to be gone from this place. It encourages me to sleep with my sword beneath my pillow.’

  They had brought David a gift. A dark grey falcon with heavily barred wings and tail, complete with decorative jesses and bells and tasselled hood. A handsome bird from Richard’s own mews, a bird that would fly true and give David much enjoyment. But the lad was neither to see nor to appreciate the gift. Not an hour after their arrival it was announced that the young lord had fallen foul of a fever that would keep him to his bed. When Elizabeth, in sudden panic, insisted on seeing him, she was allowed to do so, to discover her brother propped against banked pill
ows, only semi-conscious, hot and uncomfortable, his face flushed and his skin dusted with a light rash. He tossed and turned under her hand on his forehead, neither recognising her nor responding to her voice. Master Capel stood in close at ten dance beside the bed, hands folded over his black robes.

  ‘What’s wrong with him?’ Elizabeth demanded, anxiety not quite replacing her dislike of the man.

  ‘Nothing untoward, my lady.’

  ‘The pestilence?’ She could hardly swallow as she spoke the dread word. ‘I don’t think it is, but—’

  ‘No. It’s not the pestilence. There’s nothing to fear, my lady.’ Master Capel’s voice was deep and surprisingly gentle. Much as she imagined the velvety tones of the snake to be when it tempted Eve to bite into the apple. ‘One of those sudden fevers to which young men often fall prey when they outgrow their strength. He’ll recover soon enough with rest and sleep.’

  ‘What are you doing for him?’ She closed her hand over one of David’s restless, unquiet ones. ‘I have some knowledge of fevers. I could—’

  ‘There’s no need, my lady. I have my own methods.’ He advanced to lift her to her feet from the stool beside the bed, one hand firmly beneath her arm so that she found that she had no choice. ‘I advise you to leave now. Your brother should be left in peace. And if the fever should prove to be contagious, I would not wish your ladyship to suffer for your kind visit here.’

  ‘You think I am in danger?’

  ‘No.’ His eyes fixed on her face, full of inner knowledge, full of kind understanding. She could almost believe him to be sincere. ‘But your well-being is of our utmost concern. You must carry an heir for Ledenshall. A son who will one day claim the Malinder lands.’

  ‘Well…’ She hesitated at this unexpected turn in the conversation. ‘Of course, it is my hope.’

  ‘Your uncle has a concern for you that his brusque manner might some times disguise.’

  ‘And,’ as Elizabeth informed Richard later, ‘I was then swept out of the room as if I were a servant who was in the way. And what’s more, I am for bid den to return there, for the sake of my own health.’

  ‘Is David in danger?’ Richard watched as his wife prowled their chamber, as tense as a hunting vixen.

  ‘He says not.’ She lifted her shoulders infrustration. ‘I do not know. But the fever attacked very suddenly, and Master Capel holds the keys to David’s room. How can I not worry?’

  Richard’s frown deepened. ‘I think we should leave. Whatever the problem, we’re doing no good here. I would rather have you back within the security of the walls of Ledenshall.’

  ‘And leave David?’ Elizabeth’s hands clenched into the material of her skirts. ‘Master Capel swears David is in no danger, but I may not enter for my own good!’

  And seeing the fear, the glimmer of tears on Elizabeth’s cheeks, Richard’s concern for her overrode his anger at their treatment at Sir John’s hands. ‘Lady Ellen will not allow him to come to harm,’ he urged, praying that it was so and that Elizabeth would allow herself to be persuaded. ‘I want to take you away from here. Tomorrow at first light. Do you agree?’ Elizabeth’s safety was fast becoming a matter to engage his whole mind. The urgency of it rode him with sharp spurs. He drew her into his arms, surprised by the need to hold her close.

  And Elizabeth, allowing herself to be soothed by those strong arms, took a deep breath and leaned into his care, her forehead resting against his chest.

  ‘I suppose we must,’ she sighed.

  Richard tightened his hold. ‘Then let us go home.’

  The Malinders were mounted and ready to leave. Sir John, making no attempt to dissuade them, left the polite fare wells to his wife, who with a wan smile approached Elizabeth as she sat her horse.

  ‘I’ll take all care of him,’ Lady Ellen assured. ‘To me he is the son I never carried. I’ll let no harm come to him.’

  Elizabeth grasped her hand warmly. ‘I am grateful beyond words.’

  ‘I have some thing for you.’ It was little more than a whisper so that Elizabeth had to bend low to hear the words.

  Ellen took Elizabeth’s hand again as if to press it in farewell. Into the centre of her palm she care fully pressed a small hard object, closing Elizabeth’s fingers tightly over it with her own. ‘From David,’ she murmured. ‘I got past the guard. He was lucid. He said to give it to you.’ Then Ellen took a step back and smiled brightly up into Elizabeth’s face. ‘I have this for you.’ She handed over a bulky package, raising her voice to normal pitch. ‘I know you are skilled in the use of herbs. My herb garden has grown so well this spring. The comfrey is over running the whole patch, and so is the lovage. Perhaps you can make use of them.’

  ‘I will, Lady Ellen.’ But despite the normality of her reply, Elizabeth’s fingers were clutched tightly around the object in her palm and her heart thundered in her chest. Surely all around her could hear it, feel the vibration.

  Ellen’s voice was a whisper again, eyes wide. ‘I’m afraid.’

  Richard urged his horse closer. ‘Can we help?’

  ‘Ellen.’ Sir John’s voice rang out. ‘Let them go. It’s a long enough journey without your detaining them.’

  ‘Yes, my lord. Of course.’ Ellen lifted her face, un willing to let them go without a final word. ‘Goodbye and God keep you. No, you cannot help me, Richard. Go home and keep Elizabeth safe. I’ll look after David, never fear.’

  And then they were riding out from under the massive portcullis, their faces turned towards the gentler hills of the middle March, Elizabeth accompanied through out the whole journey by sharp fears. She knew exactly what Ellen had given her, what was now tucked securely within the bodice of her gown.

  As soon as they were dismounted at Ledenshall, Elizabeth did not linger. Without a word, she picked up her skirts and ran up the steps and into the Hall, then to her chamber, where Richard came to find her sitting in a chair before a fire, loosely wrapped around in a heavy velvet robe, her veil discarded. He thought he had not seen such anguish on her face since the night of Lewis’s murder. A single sheet of parchment lay unfolded on a coffer at her side and two items of jewellery beside it. She was staring at them, face drained of colour, eyes wide with lingering horror. The rich emerald colour of her robe merely enhanced her blood less cheeks and lips.

  ‘Elizabeth.’ He closed the door softly. It must be worse than he thought. ‘What is it? You must tell me.’

  She shook her head as if to shake her thoughts into some sensible pattern. ‘I don’t know. I’m not sure.’ He could see her grip the arms of the chair. ‘No—that’s not true. I think I am very sure. I just don’t want to believe it.’

  He pulled up a stool to sit opposite her, leaned his forearms on his thighs, but did not pick up the items until she was ready. Did not speak until her thoughts were sufficiently ordered that she could raise her eyes to his face. When she did, his heart was wrung by the wretchedness he saw there.

  ‘Oh, Richard…’ She picked up the silver circle set with a crude amethyst, held it out on her open palm. ‘I know this ring. David gave it to Ellen to give to me.’

  ‘And?’ he prompted as her explanation dried.

  ‘It belongs—it belonged to Lewis.’

  Richard’s brows snapped together as he lifted the simple crude circle of silver from his wife’s hand. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Oh, yes. I could not be mistaken. I gave it to him, you see. When I was very young and very foolish—I wanted to give him a gift. His horse—it broke its leg and was killed. He was so young and so sad, and tried to be so brave, but I knew that he wept for it. I had nothing else to give of any value. It had belonged to our mother and probably her mother before her. The engraving is very worn, as you can see, and the stone is not well cut. It was a silly gesture, but I wanted him to have it.’ She swiped at a tear that over spilled. ‘It was far too small for him to wear even then—so he put it on a cord around his neck and promised me he would wear it for ever. And for all I know, he alwa
ys wore it beneath his tunic.’

  ‘Perhaps he gave it to David?’ Richard sought for reasons, any reason other than the obvious, however unlikely.

  ‘No. I think he would not. It was my gift to him. I don’t think he would give it away.’

  Neither did Richard. ‘What about that?’ he asked after a brief silence, angling his chin to the other jewel.

  ‘Ah. The brooch.’ The muscles in her jaw clenched. ‘This was in Ellen’s packet of comfrey and lovage, well disguised if anyone should see fit to pry.’ She pushed the jewel towards him with the parchment. Three short scrawled lines only.

  I found this in your uncle’s possession. I know there is more.

  You will recognise it.

  I can only guess at its implication.

  It was a brooch, a fine piece of value, fashioned of gold with rubies in a cabochon setting. Richard lifted it from the table, held it in his hand, admiring the weight and work manship even as his gut clenched with the knowledge it brought. If his fears were true, what depths of misery this would bring for Elizabeth. Surely owner ship of this gem would point an accusing finger at the man responsible for Lewis’s death. The rubies reflected the candlelight, an inner blood-red fire in their heart.

  ‘When did you last see that?’ Elizabeth asked when he said nothing.

  ‘I’m not sure.’ Richard hesitated, un willing to put his fears into words. ‘The work man ship is magnificent. A splendid piece, of Italian manufacture, I think.’

  ‘Yes. And of considerable worth. As I know. So I also know it was hardly ever worn. It was a gift to Lewis from our father, a de Lacy jewel.’

  ‘I see.’ He looked up, eyes suddenly narrowed as his fears were confirmed.

  ‘When I last set eyes on it,’ Elizabeth continued, ‘it was pinned to the brim of Lewis’s hat to secure a flam boy ant feather—on the day of our wedding.’ As if the full meaning of the words, of the situation they painted, struck her for the first time, Elizabeth covered her face with her hands. ‘I dare not think of the reasons for these to fall into the hands of David and Ellen.’ Then she thrust back her chair, sprang to her feet to pace the chamber from one end to the other in an out pouring of furious energy, kicking the heavy skirts of her robe from her path. ‘I know what I suspect. It can be the only answer. He killed Lewis. Sir John killed him—or had him killed. Surely that can be the only reason for these pieces of jewellery to be discovered at Talgarth. And the brooch in Sir John’s own possession. I cannot doubt Ellen’s word. What other reason can there be?’ Her thoughts continued to flow out in an un controlled flood of words. ‘Now he has David under his hand. And I am powerless to do anything about it.’ She raised her hands in helpless fury, swinging round to fist them on the back of the chair that she had just vacated.