The Lord's Forced Bride

by Anne Herries

  ‘His wicked ways?’ Catherine stared at her. ‘In what way was he wicked?’

  ‘His wife was a very beautiful lady. Lord Malchester was very jealous of her, and when he thought she was betraying him with another man, he shut her up in her apartments and would let her see no one, even though she swore that she was innocent. She was with child, and Malchester was convinced that she was carrying her lover’s child. When it was born…’ Sarah glanced over her shoulder. ‘My father says it is a lie, but others say he killed the babe. He let his wife live and he visited her sometimes, forcing her to lie with him—but she hated him because of the child. When she became pregnant with his child, she seemed to lose her mind and she swore that she would die rather than give birth to the child of a monster.’

  ‘So that is why she set her apartments on fire and died there.’ Catherine shivered. ‘What a horrible story! It would not surprise me if she did walk, for how could anyone lie in peace after that?’

  ‘They say that she rests in her grave, but he cannot because he knows her death and the deaths of two babes lie on his soul.’

  ‘Please do not say anything more,’ Catherine cried. ‘I wish you had not told me as much!’

  ‘You asked about the tower, mistress. Please do not be angry with me. I did not mean to upset you.’ Sarah looked at her anxiously. ‘I pray I have not made you fear this house, for my father says that if you do not like it the marquis will go away and leave us to rot.’

  ‘You need not fear that, as my husband is determined to put this house to rights. Besides, I like it despite what you have told me. It is a good solid house and most of the neglect may easily be put right.’ Catherine laughed. ‘I do not scare easily, Sarah. Even if some spectre should walk this house, I think I should not abandon it. A priest would no doubt sprinkle holy water for us and put unquiet spirits to rest.’

  ‘Yes, mistress. Indeed he would,’ Sarah agreed. ‘You will not tell my father that I spoke of the old master being unable to rest? He is adamant that it is all nonsense.’

  ‘But he has not spent as much time in his old master’s apartments as you, has he, Sarah?’

  ‘I clean them, and sometimes things are not quite as I left them, but my father and brothers never go to the master’s chambers,’ Sarah said, looking uncertain and a little guilty. ‘I like to sit there sometimes—and I have used the bath once or twice. I hope you do not mind, my lady? I know it was wrong.’

  ‘Why should you not take advantage of it when there was no one else to do so?’ Catherine said and smiled at her. ‘You may use it sometimes when I am not using it, if you wish.’

  ‘You are kind, my lady,’ Sarah said. ‘I am glad you have come here. This house needed a mistress.’

  ‘And a good master,’ Catherine said. She heard the sound of footsteps in the hall outside the parlour. ‘I believe your master comes now, Sarah. Go now, for he will be wanting his dinner soon.’

  ‘Yes, my lady. Mistress Burrows is preparing it in the kitchens. She was the cook here before…but I shall help her because she does not always do things as I like.’

  ‘You may call her Cook if you wish, but I like your cooking well, Sarah,’ Catherine said. ‘I shall see that you are paid the wages you deserve, for you have done far more than anyone to ensure that the house did not fall into utter decay.’

  Sarah bobbed a curtsy and left as her master entered. Catherine smiled and went to kiss his cheek. He caught her to him, pulling her hard against his body to kiss her on the mouth. Catherine laughed huskily and melted into him, responding until he let her go.

  ‘Have you been busy, my love?’

  ‘Very,’ Catherine replied with a look of satisfaction. ‘I have examined all the linen and can tell you that it will do well enough for now—though if we were to entertain guests we should need new. I have some in my chest and shall have it unpacked, for we may as well be prepared. The silver is more than adequate and I have set the servants to cleaning a little of it each day. Of pewter and glass we have sufficient for our needs, though again we might need more if we had guests. The other bedchambers are being cleaned, and there are several good ones, though much of the bedding needs replacing. As for food stores, we are sadly in need of replenishment, and meat needs to be salted for the winter, but I have set that in hand.’

  ‘You are truly an industrious chatelaine,’ Andrew said and smiled at her. ‘I too have been busy, though I fear the land has been sadly neglected in the absence of a master. It is not through neglect of duty, for John Jenson is a good man and has done what he could, but he says that most of the local men went to work for my neighbours, because there was no money for them here. Tomorrow I must ride to Sir Robert Soames and ask him to release any that labour for him so that they may return to their rightful employment.’

  ‘Yes, that is a good plan, for he must surely agree.’

  ‘I am sure he will, for I could demand it if I wished, but I shall make a polite request.’ Andrew looked at her inquiringly. ‘And how are you, my sweeting, now that you have spent your first day in this house?’

  ‘I was a little behind with my tasks this morning, for I slept longer than usual,’ Catherine said and blushed. ‘But I think we shall soon see a difference here, Andrew. The servants have worked with a will today, and already the house begins to smell better, do you not think so?’

  ‘I thought I could smell lavender in here,’ he replied. ‘And since the midden has been cleared the air is much fresher in the courtyard.’

  ‘Oh, yes, much better,’ Catherine agreed. ‘I believe we could entertain—just a few of your neighbours if you should wish it, my lord?’

  ‘Once I have called on Sir Robert it is likely that others will hear of it and we shall receive visitors. It will not be too soon for you, Catherine?’

  ‘In three more days we should be ready to give a dinner for neighbours,’ Catherine said. ‘Sarah told me that the farmers have sent both mutton and pork for our table, and her father and brother will take the wagon to market tomorrow and bring us all the supplies we need.’

  ‘Then I may as well invite Sir Robert for next week if he should care to dine with us. I believe he has a wife and daughter—and Jenson said he had heard there was a lady staying. Sir Robert’s niece, he thinks.’

  ‘Then invite them all,’ Catherine said. ‘I dare say we shall give them a decent dinner as Sarah is a fair cook and she will do her best for us—though we do have a cook now.’

  ‘Then tell me what is for dinner, my lady wife, for I am hungry.’

  ‘I believe we are to have roast capon with side dishes of cabbage with onions and plums, and there is a pie to follow with an apple relish Sarah made last autumn, honey tarts and a wine custard.’

  ‘A feast for a king,’ Andrew said, and moved towards her with a gleam in his eyes. ‘Have I told you today how lovely you are, Catherine?’

  ‘No, I do not believe so,’ she said and a dimple appeared in her cheek.

  ‘Then I shall say it now and when we have dined—’ Andrew broke off as the door opened and his steward entered. ‘Yes, Mullins, what is it?’

  ‘There is a lady come, my lord—she claims to be your mother—’

  ‘I do not claim it, it is so,’ a harsh female voice said, and a woman of heavy stature pushed past the steward into the room. She was dressed in a gown of crimson silk, her greying hair half-covered by a cap of gold cloth. ‘Well, Andrew, do not stare. Come, bid your mother welcome and introduce me to your wife.’

  ‘Mother…’ Andrew stared at her, clearly dismayed. ‘What brings you here?’

  ‘Did you not expect it when you wrote to tell me you had been given this house? It is but half a day’s ride from my estate—as you must have known,’ the dowager Lady Gifford said, an angry glint in her eyes. ‘As for your wedding—why was I not invited?’ Her sharp gaze fell on Catherine. ‘So this is the girl! Well, at least she is presentable.’

  ‘Catherine is as lovely in nature as she is in form and face,’ Andr
ew said, springing to the defence of his wife. ‘I wrote to inform you of my marriage and the King’s gift, but I did not ask you to come here, madam.’

  ‘Well, I have come and I dare say you will not turn me out immediately. From the state of this place, it looks as if it needs a mistress. The servants will heed me or feel my displeasure.’

  ‘Catherine is capable of ordering the servants herself, and she is the mistress here,’ Andrew said. He was furious at the way his mother had taken it upon herself to visit without an invitation, but he could hardly tell her she must leave at once, though he would tell her privately that she was not welcome here. ‘I must ask you not to interfere with the Marchioness of Gifford’s arrangements, madam.’

  ‘Oh, but surely your mother must be welcome here, Andrew,’ Catherine said softly, her eyes seeking his in bewilderment. ‘And I am newly come to my duties and shall not mind if Lady Gifford wishes to give me advice on something should I need it.’

  How innocent she was, Andrew thought wryly. He knew that given an inch his mother would seek to take over the reins and Catherine would be relegated to little more than an onlooker in her own home.

  ‘My mother may give advice if you ask for it, Catherine,’ he said, looking stern. ‘But this house—as is all my property—is yours to command.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ Catherine said. She smiled confidently and took a step towards her husband’s mother. The dowager was a formidable-looking lady, but Catherine was determined to greet her as was fitting. ‘My lady, you are welcome here. The house had been sadly neglected before we came, for there were not enough servants, but we have already made good progress, and as the days go on I am sure we shall make more.’

  The dowager’s eyes went over her, narrowing in thought as she studied the face of the girl her son had married. ‘Well, you seem a sensible girl, miss. I dare say we shall deal well enough together.’

  ‘I hope we may, ma’am,’ Catherine replied. ‘It occurs to me that the servants may find it confusing with two Lady Giffords in the house, therefore I shall tell them that they may address you as Lady Gifford—and I shall be Lady Catherine.’ She glanced at her husband. ‘Will that please you, my lord?’

  ‘Providing that they know Lady Catherine is their mistress.’ He glared at no one in particular, his good humour of earlier clearly banished.

  ‘Excuse me, I shall leave you to greet your mother in private, Andrew. I must speak to Sarah and ask her to have a room prepared for Lady Gifford—and to set another place for supper.’

  Andrew turned on his mother as the door closed behind her, his eyes dark with anger. ‘If you have come here to make trouble…’

  ‘I came to see what manner of girl you had married,’ his mother said coldly. ‘You know that our families have been enemies for many years.’

  ‘Because you wished it so,’ Andrew told her, his expression harsh. ‘Melford made reparation years ago, but you were not satisfied. Now the King has settled the business—’

  ‘With this derelict estate? I think not!’ the dowager said. ‘One tower is a ruin and the rest of the house is not much better.’

  ‘I have made an inspection of the house and land,’ Andrew told her severely. ‘And Catherine has made her own inventory. I found the house sound, Mother, if in need of some repair. There was a fire in the tower and I believe the late marquis lost his wife in the tragedy, but you will say nothing of this to Catherine, for I do not wish her upset.’

  ‘She seems a pleasant enough girl,’ the dowager replied. ‘We may deal well enough together. I am your mother, Andrew. I hope you do not intend to shut me out of your life?’

  ‘I did not think it would matter to you since you had little time for me in the past, madam.’

  ‘I may have neglected you for a while, but my life was difficult. I would wish to be reconciled to you, Andrew. You are my only son.’

  ‘Your fate lies in your own hands, Mother,’ Andrew replied, his expression still stern, his manner unbending. ‘If you behave properly towards my wife and she is happy to have you in her house you may stay—but if you distress her—if you try to overrule her orders—I shall ask you to leave.’

  ‘That is plain speaking, Andrew.’

  ‘It is as well to have things clear before we begin,’ he said. ‘For myself I am willing to accept your presence sometimes, but if you distress my wife I shall not see you again.’

  ‘Very well.’ The dowager countess inclined her head, her anger veiled by a show of acquiescence. ‘It shall be as you say, my son. I shall try not to distress Catherine—or anger you.’

  ‘We understand one another,’ Andrew said. ‘Do not forget—’ Andrew broke off as the door opened and Catherine returned. ‘Is a chamber being prepared for Lady Gifford, my love?’

  ‘It is already prepared,’ Catherine told him with a smile. ‘I asked earlier for the best guest chamber to be cleaned in case we should have a visitor—though I did not know it would be your mother, Andrew.’

  ‘It was not my intention to invite anyone to stay for some months,’ Andrew said. He went to her, taking her hand to kiss it. ‘But since you are happy to have Lady Gifford here, I am content that it should be so. You are my wife, Catherine, and I wish for your happiness.’

  ‘I am happy,’ Catherine said. She turned to the dowager with a smile on her lips. ‘Madam, please come with me. I hope your chamber will be comfortable, though had we had notice of your arrival we might have been able to renew the curtains. I believe they are fit to use and clean, but I intend to sew new ones as soon as I have time.’ She allowed Lady Gifford to precede her out of the room.

  ‘Perhaps you will allow me to help you with the task, Lady Catherine? I am accounted an expert needlewoman, I believe.’

  ‘I should be glad of your help and advice, ma’am,’ Catherine replied. ‘You must not blame the marquis if this house does not meet with your standards, for he could not have known of the neglect here. It was his intention to leave after one night, but I begged him not to walk away without putting right what has been wrong here.’

  ‘And of course he did not argue,’ the dowager replied. ‘Men always care for their wealth and power more than their wives. He was given this estate in settlement of a long-owed debt, and no doubt he wishes to recover what he can before he disposes of the place.’

  ‘Oh, I am not sure that my husband wishes to sell Malchester,’ Catherine replied. ‘I know that there is a great deal of work to be done, but I am certain that both the land and the house can be restored.’ They had now climbed the stairs of the East Tower, and Catherine hesitated outside the door. ‘Please go in, ma’am. I hope that you will find your apartments comfortable.’ She allowed the dowager to enter first, giving her a moment to look round before turning to her mother-in-law with raised brows. ‘Will it do for the moment?’

  The dowager hesitated, and then, mindful of her son’s warning, ‘It is well enough for the moment. You have spoken of new curtains. Pray tell me, is the linen fresh and aired properly?’

  ‘It was the first thing I had changed,’ Catherine said. ‘You will find the sheets are new, for I brought them with me in my wedding chest.’

  ‘Indeed? And you have chosen to use them for a guest chamber?’

  ‘Not just any guest, ma’am,’ Catherine said, giving her a serene smile. ‘You are my husband’s mother, and I would have you feel welcome here, and comfortable.’

  ‘Is that your true sentiment?’ the dowager asked, staring at her oddly. ‘Are you not wishing me to the devil in your heart?’

  ‘You will discover that I speak honestly, ma’am,’ Catherine told her. ‘If we are to be comfortable together, we should begin as we mean to go on. I gave you my best bed sheets because I wish you to be comfortable. I have linen enough to make more—my mother sent me to my husband well prepared.’

  ‘I remember your mother,’ the dowager Lady Gifford said and frowned. ‘I was sorry for what happened to her. It was not my wish that she should be treated so harsh
ly. I have resented the loss of the Gifford estate, but your mother’s suffering was not of my making.’

  ‘Her suffering?’ Catherine felt a chill down her spine. ‘No one has ever told me what happened. I only know that she considers it best to forget whatever it was.’

  ‘Do you wish to know the truth?’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ Catherine said. ‘How did my mother suffer—and why?’

  ‘Her guardian had agreed that she should marry the Marquis of Leominster. It was a harsh bargain for Melissa, because Leominster was a terrible man and had killed two wives before her. When the King sent your father to Gifford, Melford married her out of hand and sent the then Earl of Gifford to London as a prisoner. The Earl gave his word to your father not to try to escape, but he broke it and returned in secret to the castle. He stole your mother even though she was married to Robert Melford. He took her to Leominster, but when the marquis learned that she had married your father he did not want her. He imprisoned her in an oubliette and she would have died there had your father not stormed Leominster and rescued her. I knew nothing of this at the time, but I learned of it later.’

  ‘He locked my mother in a dungeon and left her to die…’ Catherine was horrified. ‘That is barbaric! How could anyone be so evil? My poor mother. How she must have suffered!’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘It does not surprise me that she will not speak of it to this day.’

  ‘I would not have had it happen,’ the dowager said. ‘Even though I have been bitter because Gifford was taken from my son. My husband was murdered. They tell me it was probably Leominster’s men—so he was well served for his perfidy.’

  Catherine stared at her. ‘Did you grieve for your husband, ma’am?’

  ‘I grieved for the loss to my son, but the earl was not a kind man. My father gave me to him for some reason of his own. I was satisfied to be the mistress of a large estate, but…when it was taken from me so unfairly I became bitter. It was I who prolonged the quarrel between your family and mine, lady, not my son, but recently I have begun to see the error of my ways.’