Besieged and Betrothed

by Jenni Fletcher

  Well, she hadn’t tolerated it then and she wasn’t going to tolerate it now.

  ‘You haven’t mentioned my gown.’ She rounded on him accusingly.

  ‘Haven’t I?’ His tone was impassive.

  ‘No.’

  ‘It looks good.’

  ‘Good.’ She repeated the word flatly.

  ‘Very good. It’s just not what I’m used to.’

  Her temper flared. ‘No, I’m sure the Empress has much finer gowns.’

  ‘What does the Empress have to do with it? I meant that I’m not used to seeing you in something so...’ he seemed momentarily lost for words ‘...colourful.’

  She pursed her lips. If colourful was the best thing he could think of to say about it, then she might as well not have bothered.

  ‘It’s time we went upstairs.’

  ‘For the bedding ceremony?’ Her voice seemed to have turned into a squeak.

  ‘Yes.’ His gaze swept over her face and then away past her shoulder. ‘It’s expected.’

  She swallowed apprehensively as she stood up, trying to suppress a rising sense of panic as she walked towards the stairwell. She could hear Lothar’s footsteps behind her, then others, a whole cacophony of footsteps as the revellers followed them up to her chamber. What were they going to do—watch? This was the worst, most humiliating thing she could ever have imagined! Surely her father had never intended for her to go through anything like this!

  ‘My lady?’ Alys was already waiting in her chamber. ‘Shall I help you with your gown?’

  ‘Please.’ Her hands were shaking so much she doubted she’d be able to undo any of the ties herself.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lothar enter the room behind her and start to disrobe, tossing his boots casually into one corner as if he weren’t remotely concerned about what was happening. She felt sick. This wasn’t the way marriage was supposed to be, was it? With a cluster of people standing outside their door waiting for them to do...what? She tensed as Alys drew the gown over her head, leaving her naked except for a knee-length shift. Surely Lothar wouldn’t take her to bed just to provide witnesses to their marriage? It was so cold, so emotionless. Why were witnesses important anyway? She looked over her shoulder to see a crowd gathered outside, though mercifully no one was making any attempt to come in. Quickly, she fled to the bed, jumping in and wriggling under the covers.

  ‘There you are.’ Lothar followed Alys across the room as she made to depart, giving an exaggerated bow to their audience before slamming the door in their faces. ‘They’ve seen us together.’

  ‘You mean that’s it?’ She sat up in surprise. ‘I thought they had to see us in bed?’

  ‘They’ve seen us half-dressed in a bedchamber. That’s enough.’

  She lay down again, her whole body sagging with relief. ‘So what now?’

  ‘Now I suggest we get some sleep.’

  He pulled his tunic over his head and she squeezed her eyes shut, shocked by the sight of his naked chest. She’d thought of him as a statue often enough, but now the comparison seemed even more apt. His torso was so well defined he might as well have been carved from marble, the muscles of his stomach like waves that had been petrified, as solid and unyielding as rock. As if she hadn’t felt inadequate enough before!

  ‘I could sleep in the chair if you prefer?’ He sounded hesitant.

  ‘No.’ She opened one eye cautiously. ‘As long as we’re just sleeping.’

  His expression clouded for a moment and then cleared. ‘So you thought the bedding ceremony meant...’

  She pulled the covers up over her face, trying to hide her embarrassment. ‘I wasn’t sure.’

  ‘No wonder you looked so scared.’

  ‘I did not!’ She hauled the blanket down again, stung by the accusation.

  ‘You were shaking.’

  She opened her mouth to argue and then closed it again. ‘Well, maybe I was, but you can’t blame me. I didn’t know what to expect. We’ve never discussed...that.’

  ‘You’re right, I should have thought of it.’ He sat down on the edge of the mattress, almost as far away from her as it was possible to get. ‘You’ve no need to fear me, Juliana. I won’t touch you. This marriage is only for your protection, remember?’

  ‘So you don’t want me to pay the marriage debt?’

  The words were out before she could think better of them and his shoulders stiffened visibly.

  ‘I wouldn’t expect it of you, no.’

  ‘Oh.’ She felt an unexpected sense of disappointment.

  There was a brief silence before he spoke again, his voice sounding calm and measured, as if he were choosing his words with care. ‘Though you could still demand it yourself.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Just that the debt works both ways. You could ask me to pay it, too. I can’t refuse if that’s what you want.’

  She bit her lip, not knowing how to answer. Never in a thousand years would she ever do anything so brazen, but the images it brought to mind were...intriguing.

  ‘Do you want me to?’

  She gasped, suddenly realising how incriminating her silence must sound. ‘No!’

  ‘Ah.’ His tone was expressionless. ‘Then we ought to get some sleep.’

  He blew out the candle and she rolled away, determined to put all thoughts of marriage and debts and beds out of her mind, though she had a feeling that any such attempt was already doomed to failure. How could she not think about them lying beside him? Surely it wasn’t possible to feel any more mortified.

  ‘Juliana?’ His voice sounded softer.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You looked beautiful tonight. I should have told you before.’

  ‘Oh.’ She felt her heartbeat accelerate. No one apart from her father had ever called her beautiful before, but he sounded like he meant it.

  ‘Nothing at all like a stablehand.’

  She gave a tremulous laugh. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘The next time I say anything like that you have my permission to hit me again.’

  ‘You think I need your permission?’

  This time it was his turn to laugh. ‘No, I suppose not. Goodnight, Juliana.’

  ‘Goodnight.’

  She closed her eyes, struck with the feeling that it was going to be harder to sleep now than ever.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  ‘What are you doing?’

  Juliana lifted her head to find Lothar staring at her with a bewildered expression from the doorway.

  ‘A tapestry.’ She didn’t know whether to feel amused or offended by his reaction. ‘I’ve never made one before. What do you think?’

  He took a cautious step into her chamber, as if afraid that her behaviour was some kind of trick. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Just a border so far. You can say it’s a pretty pattern, if you like.’

  ‘It’s a pretty pattern.’ He looked relieved. ‘Wouldn’t you rather be outside with a sword?’

  ‘It’s actually not as dull as I expected. Maud’s helping me.’ She arched her eyebrows. ‘I thought you didn’t like me fighting anyway?’

  ‘As long as it’s not with me.’ He stretched out in the chair opposite. ‘Your father was right, a woman ought to be able to defend herself.’

  ‘I have you for that now, don’t I?’ She gave him a teasing look.

  ‘You do. For now.’

  She turned her gaze quickly back to the tapestry. Until the spring, he meant, when he had to go back to the Empress. Which also meant soon. The thought caused a pang in her chest, but at least he wouldn’t be gone for ever. A lot of men spent their springs and summers away from their wives and families at court or on campaign, only returning home in the winter. Their marria
ge wouldn’t be so unusual in that regard.

  ‘I’m sure the Empress will be able to spare you from time to time.’

  She peered sideways at him, though the mention of Matilda seemed to make his expression cloud even further. Was he pining for her? she wondered. He didn’t seem to be. As far as she knew, he hadn’t sent or received any messages since his return from Devizes. He’d actually been in a surprisingly good mood for the past two months. During the days he’d ridden, trained his men and helped out with any tasks that needed doing around the castle. She’d found him carrying barrels to the taproom, grooming horses in the stables, even shaping horseshoes in the smithy. As promised, he’d left the day-to-day running of the castle to her, only offering help or advice when she asked for it—something she found herself doing more and more. It was surprisingly pleasant to have someone to share her ideas with, so much so that the evenings had become her favourite part of the day. They spent that time together, playing chess or backgammon, or just talking, always together, though also always amidst other people in the hall. They were rarely alone together. He’d slept in her father’s old chamber ever since their wedding night and she was always the first to retire to bed. As much as he seemed to enjoy her company, he seemed equally determined never to escort her upstairs or share a room with her. On one occasion, she’d tried staying up late to see if she could make him go to bed first, but he’d stayed in his chair until she’d been unable to stifle her yawns any longer. Then she’d listened at her door when she’d finally gone back to her room, hearing his footsteps go past just a few minutes later.

  That was the one awkward part of their truce. Obviously the marriage debt scared him even more than it had her, though in that case she wondered why he’d told her about her rights in the first place. She’d absolutely no intention of throwing herself at any man who didn’t want her, but his avoidance only added insult to injury, as if he found her so unattractive that he preferred to stay in a crowded hall rather than run any risk of it. Of course, he was sitting in her chamber now, she thought bitterly, though that was probably only because it was the middle of the afternoon. He probably thought he was safe.

  ‘There’s something I need to tell you.’ His voice sounded alarmingly serious all of a sudden. ‘About Matilda.’

  She stabbed her needle into her finger with a jolt. She’d dreaded the thought of this conversation, had been afraid it was coming, though she’d hoped to avoid it. He was about to tell her that he was in love with Matilda. She stifled an exclamation. Wasn’t it bad enough that she knew it already? She didn’t want to suffer the indignity of hearing her husband say it out loud.

  ‘Can’t it wait?’ She sucked her finger to staunch the flow of blood. ‘Maud’s gone for some more thread, but she’ll be back any moment.’

  ‘No.’ He reached behind him, pushing the door shut with an ominous thud. ‘It’s important. I should have told you before, but... I thought perhaps the circumstances might change.’

  Circumstances? Her stomach contracted. What did he mean by circumstances? If he’d thought their marriage might affect his feelings for Matilda, then clearly he was about to tell her otherwise...

  ‘What I’m about to tell you goes no further than this chamber.’

  She held back a snort. Of course it wouldn’t go any further! Did he really think she’d want to trumpet the fact of her husband being in love with another woman?

  ‘Very well.’ She lifted her chin up stiffly. If she really couldn’t stop him, then she could at least listen with dignity.

  ‘Matilda’s going back to Normandy.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You remember I told you about her hopes for a treaty?’ He leaned forward in his chair. ‘Well, she’s handing the fight over to her son. Henry FitzEmpress will take her place when she leaves.’

  ‘But... She’s leaving?’ She felt utterly astounded. That Matilda, the woman who’d dubbed herself Lady of the English, might abandon the country she’d fought over for so long was well-nigh unthinkable...

  ‘It won’t be easy for her.’ He seemed to be watching her intently.

  ‘No, I suppose not.’

  ‘For me either, but she needs me now more than ever. I don’t have a choice, Juliana.’

  She frowned, trying to comprehend what he was telling her. She’d been too shocked by his first statement to pay much attention to the rest, but now he seemed to be trying to defend himself, to forestall some kind of argument.

  ‘What don’t you have a choice about?’

  ‘About going back to Normandy with her.’

  ‘Normandy?’ She was on her feet, her needle clattering to the floor, before she even knew she intended to stand up.

  ‘Yes.’ He stood up, too. ‘She wants me to go with her.’

  ‘Since when?’

  A guilty expression crossed his face. ‘Since she told me in Devizes.’

  ‘That was two months ago!’

  ‘As I said, I thought the circumstances might change. I didn’t know if she’d go through with it.’

  ‘And now you are?’

  ‘If she’d changed her mind, I would have received word by now.’

  She gripped the back of her chair, feeling as if the room were spinning suddenly. ‘So when are you leaving?’

  ‘She told me to return to Devizes when the weather started to clear. It’s clearing now. I ought to leave in the morning.’

  ‘Tomorrow morning? And you’re only telling me now?’ She gave a bitter laugh. ‘Of course! I don’t know why I expected any different. She’s your Empress, I’m just your wife. I hope the two of you will be very happy together!’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ He looked shocked.

  ‘What do you think it means?’

  ‘Juliana, I’m only following orders.’

  ‘Then who am I to stand in the way?’ She started forward angrily, suddenly desperate to get away from him. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do than talk about your Empress.’

  ‘Wait.’ He took a step to one side, blocking the way so that she almost walked into him. ‘There’s something else.’

  She stopped a hair’s breadth from his chest. She wanted to pound on it with her fists. What else could there be? She felt enough of a fool already. If she didn’t get out of there soon then she’d either throw something at him or start crying and she wasn’t sure which was worse. How could he do this—abandon her just when she was starting to get used to him? She hadn’t wanted a husband, but he’d made her get used to him! More than that, she’d enjoyed spending time with him. Their evenings together had meant something to her. Hadn’t they meant anything to him?

  ‘What?’ She met his gaze furiously, determined not to show any of the pain she was feeling.

  ‘The Empress wants to see you, too, before she leaves.’

  ‘Why?’

  He paused briefly. ‘She wants to know if you can be trusted after what happened with your father.’

  ‘I thought you said she understood about that?’

  ‘She did, but she still wants to know she’s leaving Haword in the hands of someone she can trust.’

  ‘She isn’t!’ Anger flared again. How dare he! Now of all times, how dare he demand her allegiance to the woman he was running away with? ‘I told you I gave Stephen my oath.’

  ‘That was before we were married.’

  ‘So naturally you expect me to abandon my loyalties for yours? Why should I be loyal to her?’

  ‘Because I vouched for you!’

  She stiffened in shock. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I know how much Haword means to you. I didn’t, don’t, want you to lose your home.’

  She swallowed, trying to make sense of a confusing tumult of emotions. Gratitude, resentment, jealousy... She didn’t understand any
of it. Why had he taken such a risk? If he’d vouched for her, then he was responsible for her actions, even in Normandy. It bound them even closer together—just when he leaving!

  ‘Why did you do that? You knew I gave my oath to Stephen.’

  A shadow fell over his face. ‘Would you really surrender Haword to him if he came back?’

  ‘Yes, if you’re not here.’

  ‘Even after I vouched for you?’

  ‘You shouldn’t have! You had no right to say anything on my behalf.’

  ‘I’m your husband.’

  ‘My husband who’s leaving!’

  He ran a hand over his face. ‘You know it doesn’t work that way, Juliana. You can use my name to hold the castle. You don’t have to break your oath.’

  ‘Then you’re just like every other man, after all! You think I should just hide behind you as if I don’t have a mind of my own.’ She shoved both of her hands hard against his chest. ‘Well, maybe I want to support Stephen. Maybe I like Stephen!’

  He caught her wrists as she raised them again. ‘Meaning what?’

  ‘He was very courteous to me. More than some people I could mention.’

  ‘He’s a traitor who stole the crown! Or do you value courtesy more than loyalty?’

  ‘Hypocrite!’ She wrenched her wrists away. ‘How can you talk about loyalty? You’ve been in love with another woman since we met!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘With Matilda.’ She jutted her chin out, not caring how jealous she sounded now. Since they were being honest with each other, she might as well be completely honest. ‘Or are you going to deny that you’re in love with her?’