The Lord's Forced Bride

by Anne Herries

  ‘I saw the look in his eyes when you came in this evening. If I were you, I should stay well clear of him, Harry.’

  ‘I shall avoid him whenever possible—but I will not run away if he insists on confrontation.’

  ‘The King has forbidden his courtiers to duel at this time,’ Andrew said. ‘It would not be wise to let Ronchester force you into one, my friend.’

  ‘I shall not—but I am no coward, Gifford.’

  ‘I know that,’ Andrew said and smiled. ‘I hope I have not offended you. I wished only to warn you that you may have an enemy.’

  ‘I have known it these many months.’

  Andrew’s gaze narrowed. ‘You do not think that those attempts on your life had anything to do with Ronchester?’

  ‘I cannot say,’ Harry said with a careless shrug. ‘But it would not surprise me.’

  ‘You must be very careful,’ Andrew said. ‘At the moment it would not be easy to have Ronchester banished, for he hath the King’s favour. Just be careful you do not linger in dark places. Mistrust any message that seems strange, as I would put nothing past a man like that.’

  ‘Please do not talk of these things,’ Catherine said. ‘It frightens me!’

  ‘Andrew is only urging me to be cautious,’ Harry said and sent a warning look to his friend. ‘Ronchester is an unpleasant man, but he will not murder me at court—just be careful he does not entice you to a dark corner, Cat. He would like nothing better than to get back at me through you.’

  ‘I would never go anywhere with that man!’ Catherine declared with such fire that the other two laughed.

  ‘He will not harm Harry, for I shall be watching him,’ Andrew told her. ‘Do not let the thought of him spoil your first visit to court.’

  Harry looked at her inquiringly. ‘Shall we go back to the hall—or do you wish to go home?’

  ‘I am feeling much better now,’ Catherine said. ‘Besides, you said I was to meet his Majesty after we had eaten.’

  ‘Yes, that is so, but if you are ill it can be postponed.’

  ‘No, Harry. I am much better now.’

  Catherine was no longer feeling sick, though the vomiting had made her throat hurt and her stomach ache. However, she put on a brave face, refusing to let the others see her discomfort. It would be awful if she had to leave so early in the evening; she might offend the King and never be invited to court again.

  Returning to the hall, she saw that a host of servants had begun to clear away the remains of the feast and the trestle and boards were being taken down. The courtiers were standing in small groups talking, and Catherine felt a little awkward for she did not know what to do, but just then a lady came up to her and smiled in a friendly manner.

  ‘Are you feeling better, Mistress Melford? I saw you leave suddenly and guessed that you were ill. I trust that my friend offered you help?’

  ‘Oh, yes, thank you,’ she replied. ‘He showed me where I could be sick, and I am much better now—but I do not think we have met before?’

  ‘I am Lady Margaret Syndon,’ the lady said. ‘I believe this is your first visit to court?’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ Catherine said, blushing. ‘I think I have disgraced myself, ma’am.’

  ‘No, indeed, for you were wise enough to leave at once,’ Lady Margaret replied. ‘It was very sensible of you. Not everyone is as thoughtful, I assure you. I have had my gown ruined by a gentleman vomiting all over me more than once.’

  ‘How awful for you,’ Catherine said, feeling relieved that at least one person did not censure her. ‘Do you come often to court?’

  ‘My husband is a member of the King’s cabinet,’ Lady Margaret replied. ‘Wherever the King goes, we follow.’

  ‘Do you enjoy spending so much of your time here?’

  Lady Margaret laughed. ‘How refreshing you are, Mistress Melford! It is a gloomy place, is it not? However, we spend more of our time at Sheen than anywhere. His Majesty moves from place to place, but for matters of State we come here.’

  Catherine nodded. ‘It will be a grand occasion when the prince marries, I believe?’

  ‘Yes, indeed it will.’ Lady Margaret smiled at her. ‘Would you like to be one of my party, Mistress Melford? Your brother will take his place with the other courtiers in the procession, of course, and you may not be given a good seat to see everything. I shall have the best places to watch the procession and for the celebrations. Do say you will oblige me.’

  ‘If my brother permits…’ Harry had turned to her at that moment and she hastened to tell him what Lady Margaret had suggested. He smiled and nodded his approval.

  ‘Certainly Catherine…if it is no trouble to you, Lady Margaret? Lady Anne Shearer was to hold her own gathering, but Catherine will see more with you. And I am certain I can trust you to take care of her. Besides, it will be good for her to make new friends at court—and no one has more acquaintances or influence than you, my lady.’

  ‘Then it is settled,’ Lady Margaret said, smiling. ‘And now, Catherine my dear, I believe the King is ready to receive newcomers. Your brother will wish to introduce you himself.’

  ‘Yes, Catherine, it is time,’ Harry said and offered her his arm. ‘Come, I shall make you known to his Majesty.’

  Catherine laid her hand on her twin’s arm, feeling a little nervous as they walked towards where the King was sitting. She swallowed hard as she saw that a man had taken up a position at his back, glancing at Harry’s face to see how he felt about the situation. A tiny pulse was flicking at his temple but he gave no other sign that he had noticed the Earl of Ronchester.

  ‘Your Majesty,’ Harry said in a firm calm voice, ‘I should like to present my twin, Mistress Catherine Melford.’

  ‘Your twin, Harry.’ A smile played briefly across the King’s lips. ‘You have done me good service, Melford. Your sister is welcome at our court.’

  ‘Your Majesty…’ Catherine sank into a curtsy, but he waved her up.

  ‘Mistress Melford…’ The King’s eyes were keen as he looked at her. A stern, thin-faced man, he appeared very regal and Catherine’s heart caught with fright, until she saw that his eyes were looking kindly on her as she made her curtsy. ‘You are very welcome here. Do not be a stranger, Mistress Melford.’ He turned his gaze on Catherine’s twin. ‘Harry, I am glad to see you, my friend. You will wait on me tomorrow at eleven of the morning. There is a matter that must be settled between you and Ronchester. It is long overdue. I do not wish for ill feeling at my court at this time.’

  ‘I do not think there is anything to be settled,’ Harry said, his tone even, his expression unflinching.

  ‘Indeed, Ronchester tells me otherwise. But the matter must be finished between you. I shall have no conflict at my son’s wedding. This is a time for making up old quarrels, sirs. Tomorrow at eleven hours. I shall expect you both.’

  ‘As your Majesty wishes,’ Harry said and led Catherine away.

  She glanced at the Earl of Ronchester’s face for a moment and saw that he was watching her. Catherine shivered and turned away. This time she saw that Andrew of Gifford’s eyes were upon her. He smiled and warmth flooded through her. She gave him a shy smile in return.

  Her heart was beating very fast, because she felt that something had progressed between them that night. Andrew of Gifford did like her—and she liked him very well indeed.

  Andrew watched as Harry Melford took his sister from the hall, knowing that he would not see her again that night. It was foolish, perhaps, but he had found himself watching her again and again that evening, and instinct had told him she was ill when she left the hall so abruptly. It was odd that she alone should have been affected in that way, as to his knowledge no one else had been made ill by any of the dishes brought to table. Had she overeaten he would not have thought anything more of it, but he had noticed that she ate very little.

  He frowned, for he could not believe that anyone would wish a charming young girl harm, and yet a suspicion that she might have eaten
something that had been deliberately contaminated lingered in his thoughts long after he had left the palace to return to his lodgings for the night.

  Could her illness have come from eating food that had been tampered with in some way? He had noticed something in Ronchester’s manner that evening. The man had watched the Melford brother and sister like a hawk intent on its prey, and he had a suspicion that Ronchester had expected something to happen before Catherine left the table so quickly. He had made a sound of annoyance—as if the wrong person had been taken ill!

  The thought made Andrew’s frown deepen—he knew that Ronchester was capable of anything in his search for revenge against the man who had been instrumental in having him banned from court.

  If something had been slipped into Catherine’s food, it might have been meant for Harry.

  Would even Ronchester have dared to try to poison his enemy under the King’s nose? Andrew turned the thought in his mind, deciding to suspend judgement for the moment. It might just have been that Catherine had eaten something not quite fresh.

  It could not be proved one way or the other, but Andrew would ask Harry how she was when he came to court the next day—and he would make sure that he was somewhere nearby after Melford left the King’s presence. If Ronchester did not get the apology he was after, there was no telling what he might do next. It was possible that he would make another attempt to murder Harry quite soon!

  ‘Are you feeling better this morning, Catherine?’ Harry looked at his twin anxiously as she came down that morning to break her fast. ‘I wondered last night if you were sickening for something. You have been a little quiet these past days.’

  ‘Oh, no, Harry, I am sure I am not,’ Catherine assured him. ‘It must have been something I ate last night—perhaps the mussels, as you suggested. Whatever it was, I am quite well again.’

  Her brother nodded and looked at her thoughtfully. ‘I have been remembering…you ate only two and they were from my plate. You saw that I did not eat them and asked if you might try, did you not?’

  ‘I refused when they were offered, but then decided to try yours. I liked them and ate both because you told me you did not want them.’

  ‘I did not think of it last night,’ Harry said, ‘but the sickness happened after I gave you some of my dates, did it not?’

  ‘Yes. You gave me two and I ate one, but then I knew that I would be ill and left the table.’

  ‘I thought so,’ Harry said. ‘It may be as well that you did not eat more, Catherine.’

  ‘Harry…you do not think…?’ Catherine’s eyes widened in horror. ‘They were not poisoned?’

  ‘Not poison, perhaps, but they may have been tampered with,’ Harry said. ‘You are innocent, Cat, and do not know these things, but it would not be the first time that a jealous courtier has tried to harm me.’

  ‘Harry!’ She was shocked because it would never have occurred to her that anyone would do such a terrible thing. ‘How could anyone think of it?’

  ‘A man in my position has many enemies, Catherine,’ Harry told her. ‘I am often in the King’s favour. A rise such as mine causes jealousy in some.’

  ‘You do not think…’ Catherine faltered, then, ‘Do you think the Earl of Gifford was right?’

  ‘I think perhaps he may be, though I cannot think that Ronchester would dare to strike against me under the King’s very nose.’

  ‘Perhaps it was just something I ate that was not fresh—or the rich sauces.’

  ‘Yes, perhaps,’ her brother agreed, but there was an angry look in his eyes. ‘I do not like to think that you may have taken poison meant for me, Cat. If I were sure he intended me harm, that he might seek to harm you, I would send you home.’

  ‘Harry, you do not mean it?’ She felt a sharp disappointment. She had looked forward to this visit so much, and to leave so soon would be heartbreaking. ‘I shall be careful, but you cannot send me home…please, do not!’

  ‘I would do so rather than see you come to harm,’ Harry said, his mouth set in a grim line. ‘But we are to see the King this morning. Perhaps there is some way to resolve our differences.’

  ‘Oh, Harry, take care,’ she begged. ‘I could not bear it if you were killed.’

  ‘Andrew will be there,’ Harry said. ‘Not at the interview with his Majesty, but afterwards. And I shall be watchful, I promise you.’

  ‘God be with you, my dearest brother.’

  Catherine was silent as she watched her twin leave the house. She felt anxious for him, but something told her that the Earl of Gifford would stand his friend. Thinking of Andrew, her pulse beat a little faster. Lady Anne had warned her not to become too attached to him, but perhaps it had already been too late even then. Catherine knew that she felt something more than friendship for her brother’s friend. Whether it would prove to be a lasting attachment was still to be discovered. She only knew that warring with her anxiety for her brother was a strong desire to see Andrew of Gifford again.

  Harry knew that his twin would be bitterly disappointed if he sent her home after only a few days in London, but if his enemy had more unpleasantness on his mind, it might be for her own safety. However, he would do his best to abide by the King’s command and put an end to the bitterness between them. It would not be his fault if the feud continued.

  Lost in his own thoughts, Harry was not aware of the man following close behind until the last moment. He had expected any attack to come from Ronchester himself, and it was only chance that made him decide to cross the road just as he felt something near. It must have been the change of direction that caused the assassin’s knife to slide across his arm instead of plunging deep into his back. Alerted to the danger by a sharp sting of pain, Harry swung round on his attacker, grasping his wrist and fighting with him until the knife went spinning away. The man was hooded, a muffler over the bottom half of his face, hiding his identity. Harry tried to pull the hood from his head, but the assassin wriggled like an eel, jerking free and running off down the street.

  Harry would have given chase, but he knew that it might make him late for his meeting with the King, and abandoned the idea. After all, no real harm had been done, and it would teach him to keep his wits about him at all times. He suspected that it had been an attack upon his person rather than an attempt at robbery. Clearly Harry’s enemy would stop at nothing in his efforts to murder him. Fortunately, the knife wound was slight, merely scoring the skin and ripping his sleeve. He took out a kerchief and bound it around his arm, pulling it tight with his teeth to stop the bleeding, which was not severe. Fate had been with him that day, for he could have been wounded fatally.

  He was frowning as he continued on his chosen path. Harry was still reflecting grimly on what might have been as he was shown into the King’s presence. The Earl of Ronchester was already there, but it was easy enough to pay a rogue to do his business, and no shortage of men were willing to murder for a few silver coins.

  ‘You are late,’ the King began, and then, noticing the bloodstained kerchief on Harry’s arm, ‘What is this? You are harmed?’

  ‘I was attacked as I walked here,’ Harry said, a grim look in his eyes. ‘I believe the assassin meant to kill me, but I turned and the blade merely scraped my arm. It was nothing…a mere incident.’

  ‘It is not a mere incident when one of my faithful friends is the subject of a murderous attack,’ the King said, looking angry. He had risen to his feet. ‘Do you know who it was?’

  ‘He wore a hood and muffler over his face,’ Harry said. ‘I dare say I have many enemies, sire.’ His gaze flicked to the Earl of Ronchester’s face for a moment.

  The King looked at Ronchester. ‘Do you know who the culprit might be, Ronchester? I will have no bad blood between you. I have told you this before.’

  ‘I swear by all that I hold sacred I had no part in this, sire.’ Ronchester went down on one knee, his head bent—but not before Harry had seen the glint of annoyance in his eyes.

  ‘Then I shall tak
e your word, Ronchester.’ The King looked at Harry. ‘What have you to say in this matter of a feud between you?’

  ‘I was present when Ronchester behaved so despicably,’ Harry replied. ‘I did what I thought right by telling the lady’s brother—the rest was his affair, not mine. As for this attack on me—it was not the first. There have been two others. You may ask the Earl of Gifford, for he was present at both times, and I owe my life to him.’

  ‘Then perhaps he may know more of the affair than I,’ Ronchester said with a sneer. ‘Was there not some animosity between Gifford and your father?’

  ‘None that I have heard of,’ Harry said.

  ‘It was an old quarrel between Gifford’s father and yours,’ the King said and waved his hand in dismissal. ‘It can have no bearing on this matter.’ He looked hard at Ronchester. ‘Do you give me your word that you had no hand in this?’

  ‘I swear it on all that I hold dear, sire.’

  ‘Then I shall accept it,’ the King said. ‘I will have no arguments at my court at this time of joy. Make up and shake hands.’

  The two men glared at each other, both proud and unwilling to give ground, and the King made an expression of disgust.

  ‘Stiff-necked fools, the pair of you! Shake hands and be done with this hostility. I will not have it, do you understand me? This is a time of celebration at my court—and if I have any more dissent between you I’ll clap the pair of you in irons! You may cool your heels in the Tower unless you stop this nonsense.’

  The threat had been made more in frustration than in earnest, but it gave them pause, and after a moment, Ronchester held his hand out. Harry took it and they shook hands, albeit it unwillingly.

  ‘Enough, it is done,’ Henry said. ‘Ronchester, you may attend us at the wedding at my right hand, Melford at my left. I will hear no more of this squabble.’ Harry made his bow, the Earl of Ronchester following a second later. The King nodded his satisfaction. ‘Ronchester, you have been pardoned for your mistakes, but see that you do not transgress again or my anger will know no bounds—and now the pair of you may leave. I must ride to meet my daughter-in-law. I have been told that she is on English soil and I am impatient to see her.’