by Linda Sole
Shaking his head, he went out of his chamber and along the passage to Anne’s room. Mayhap he was tired. A few minutes with Anne and he would be restored. It had become a joy to visit her since the moment she opened her eyes to look at him, and he did not regret what he had done to bring her back from the brink of death.
She was recovering her strength day by day, and growing more beautiful. Her hair was glossy and thick, and he was glad that he had resisted the temptation to cut it when she was ill. He had noticed that she appeared to have a white streak at her temple, which he was sure had not been there at the start, but it did not spoil her beauty.
She was able to get up for a little while each day now, though she had not yet started to come downstairs. Her joy was the child, for she loved Iolanthe and was always content to nurse and sing to her.
Ought he to tell her that there had been another child? The question lay heavily on his conscience for he had put off a task he found unpalatable and as each day passed and winter became spring, he found it more and more impossible. She would wonder why he had let Marta take the first babe, and he could not tell her. He could not explain that delivering the first child had been merely duty and made no impression on him. It was not until he had seen Iolanthe that he allowed himself to feel anything.
Anne would mourn her first child. He wanted her to grow strong and well so for the moment he would not tell her – but that did not stop him thinking of Marta and what had happened to the babe.
Had she lived? Did she thrive as her twin thrived with Anne’s loving care and his doting attention – or was she dead, buried deep in the earth, her innocent flesh eaten by worms?
THREE
Devereaux Castle 1256
‘I will and must have vengeance.’ The Earl Devereaux surveyed the ruins of what had been a fine castle when he left England more than sixteen months earlier. ‘For this destruction and the death of my wife and son.’ His strong handsome face reflected his grief, his mouth twisted with bitterness. ‘God’s Body! Montroy will rue the day he crossed me.’
The arched roof of the hall had been formed of wood, painted and gilded, and the fire had completely destroyed it. When the roof disintegrated the walls had begun to fall and many of the stones had been carried away, possibly by peasants to rebuild their barns and houses.
‘You may build the castle walls again,’ Sir Jonathan Searles said, clasping his shoulder with a mailed fist. ‘Now that we are home we shall put right the wrongs that have been done here.’
Robert Devereaux was silent, his eyes like blue ice as they travelled over the burned walls, the neglected fields of his demesne and the deserted village, his expression hard and unforgiving. His enemies feared him for he had a temper and at times could be harsh, even cruel when his anger was roused, yet his friends knew that there was warmth and compassion in him and there was none braver in a fight.
‘I have other lands and other houses,’ he agreed. ‘Perhaps the castle may rise again from the ashes but for the moment I have more urgent work. Montroy still lives and, by heaven. I shall not rest until my sword has avenged Melloria.’
‘Death will come too swiftly,’ Jonathan said. He was of heavier build than the earl, shorter by a head with a swarthy complexion, his hair black and his eyes grey. ‘Melloria was a fine woman, intelligent, beautiful and loyal. We have been told that she faced Montroy and cursed him, swore that you would avenge her and the babe. They say he would have killed her but was taken by a seizure that laid him on his bed for more than a month. It is said that it was because he believed he had been bewitched that he sent his men to lay waste to the village and then had them fire the castle when he left. He took it by trickery but was afraid to hold it, for he knew your anger would know no bounds when you returned. What remains of the castle has lain empty these many months but it will rise again like a phoenix from the ashes.’
Robert’s eyes narrowed. ‘Melloria had the healing touch. Ignorant folk may have believed she was a witch, but it was not so. She was as good as she was innocent.’ His face contorted with grief, unable to hide his sense of loss for the wife he had loved. ‘She was so certain when I left her that she would bear me a son but I shall never know for she disappeared into the night and none have heard of her since.’
‘It was snowing and the Yorkshire moors are terrible at such times. Her time was near and she most likely died out there of cold…’ Jonathan’s gaze swept the bleak landscape that lay behind them; rocky and bare save for a few stunted trees it was pleasant enough in summer but in winter the terrain was merciless. ‘A gentle woman close to her time could not have survived such a place on a snowy night.’ His words died away as he saw Robert’s face. ‘You should not blame yourself, my friend. The Prince had need of you and you obeyed his summons, as a loyal knight must.’
‘Any other man could have stood in my stead. I thought to achieve honour and position by serving my prince but I have lost more than any man should.’ A pulse flicked at his temple. ‘But you must leave me now, Jonathan. My feud with Montroy will be bloody, and it may anger the King. If you continue with me this feud could lead to your downfall. Go home and find yourself a wife – and when you do, cleave to her and do not leave her, as I did…God forgive me for deserting Melloria. I know that I never shall forgive myself.’
‘Henry owes much to you,’ Jonathan reminded him. ‘He has had troubles with the barons since he was crowned at Gloucester at the age of nine, after King John died. When he came to maturity in the year of Our Lord, twelve hundred and twenty seven, he was determined that he would not be forced to sign another Magna Charta. As his champion, you have stood firm for him in England while he was forced to settle the disagreements in Gascony and try to treat with Pope Innocent.’
‘It was a vow I took as a young knight. The King has enough cares without quarrelsome barons for his debts are vast and too much land has been lost in Normandy. His father resented the jibe of John Lackland and I think Henry has never forgot it. Yet he is hedged about by petty jealousies and claims that he favours his French relations. I see no end to the strife. Since Henry 11 was forced to do penance for the murder of Thomas a Becket, kings of England have struggled against their nobles for supremecy.’ Robert’s mouth settled into a grim line. ‘Montroy knows this feud must be settled between us. If he has the chance he will try to kill me. Yet I shall be avenged for Melloria’s death.’
‘We shall avenge her together,’ Jonathan vowed. ‘I know how much you loved Melloria. I believe there is a way to make Montroy suffer a little before you put him to the sword.’
‘He shall suffer. I swear it on the memory of my wife and child.’ Robert’s eyes were intent as he looked at his companion. ‘But tell me of your plan for I see that you have one.’
‘An eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth – and a wife for a wife,’ Jonathan said, his mood as dark as the granite rock from which the castle had been built. ‘Therein lies your justice and sweet revenge.’
‘Montroy is but recently widowed…’ Robert was puzzled for his friend’s meaning was not clear. ‘Besides I do not make war on women.’
‘Montroy is to wed again – a woman so fair she might almost have rivalled Melloria.’
‘No woman could ever hold a candle to her in my eyes.’
‘I do not tell you to love her. Merely snatch her from beneath his nose. Deflower her and then send her back to him. He will come after you and then we shall kill him.’
‘I will capture her but as for the rest…’ Robert’s smile would have sent shivers down the spine of any man. ‘It will be enough that I have her. We shall make our stand at my castle at Craigmoor, which is still intact for Montroy could not take it from my stepbrother Andrew of Exeter. Would that I had placed Melloria in his care! There we shall make our plans…’ He looked into Jonathan’s eyes. ‘I must pray for my wife’s soul, God rest her. We shall go to Fountain’s Abbey to ask for a mass to be said by the Bishop. On the way we shall call at the Abbey of Saint Innocent and speak
with Mother Beatrice. Melloria was fond of her. She would want me to make a gift to the Abbey in her name since she can no longer support the nuns as she did.’
*
Rhoda Morgan turned her head to look at the man lying by her side in the summer grass. The meadow had been left to grow long and it was filled with wild flowers. The soft sweet smell of mown grass came to her nostrils, for they were cutting the mead across the river. Tomorrow they would start here in the wild meadow and she would have to find another place to meet with Kerrin.
Plucking a long stalk, Rhoda tickled his face. He was lying with his eyes shut; a protest because she had once more refused to let him love her as he wished. Rhoda allowed kisses and stroking but she would not let him pleasure her as he begged her. She longed for his touch and sometimes at night in her bed, she touched herself in her forbidden place and imagined that Kerrin stroked her. Yet she guarded her maidenhead for its loss would shame her. A gurgle of laughter left her lips as he made a sound of irritation and grabbed for the grass that tickled his face.
Kerrin opened his eyes and looked up at her as she bent over him, her long red-gold hair falling over her face.
‘If you do that again, I swear I’ll…’
‘What will you do?’ she teased, smiling as he reared up, taking her down to the dry earth and bending over her in a masterful manner that made her heart race with excitement. His mouth ravaged hers, arousing such feelings of pleasure that her will was almost broken, but then she pushed him back, shaking her head at him. ‘I do not like it when you are rough.’
‘You tease me so that I am out of my mind,’ Kerrin said and glared at her. ‘You know I adore you, Rhoda. Why will you not give yourself to me completely? I know you want this as much as I…please stop this torment and say yes?’
‘If I did…’ Rhoda touched his mouth with her finger, tracing the full lips until he trapped her with his strong white teeth. A shudder of desire took her. He was so handsome, young and bold with his dark hair and eyes that seemed to look into her soul. They both knew what would happen to them if they were caught like this, but neither could resist the sweet stolen moments they spent together in their hidden places. ‘Supposing I quickened with child? My father would kill me – and you.’
‘I should marry you. We could run away together. I love you so much, Rhoda. I want to spend my life working for you and our children.’ The look he gave her was passionate, full of love and desire.
‘But you have no fortune. I have nothing unless my father chooses to give me my portion.’ Rhoda frowned for sometimes she felt like giving into Kerrin’s pleas but something held her back. It was not her destiny to be poor. ‘It cannot be. You know it cannot. My father will arrange a marriage for me with a man of fortune and you…’ She hesitated, because he looked so fierce. She had promised that once she was wed she would give herself to her lover but the last time she spoke of it, Kerrin had been angry.
‘When you marry I shall go away and make my fortune,’ Kerrin said. He got to his feet, gazing down at her, his dark eyes bright with anger. ‘I shall not share you with your husband, Rhoda. You must choose – and choose now.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Rhoda stood up, staring at him in concern. Her heart leaped fearfully in her breast. He could not mean it. He would never leave her. He loved her. ‘Why should I choose now? My father has not yet spoken of my marriage. It could be months…’ she was silenced as his strong fingers caught her by the wrists.
‘It will be soon. I heard him talking as I prepared his horse yester noon. He takes little notice of those who serve him. I am of good birth yet I am nothing – merely a poor relation. He spoke of the man who would be your husband before me, as if it could mean nothing to such as I - and it made me angry.’
‘Who?’ Rhoda grabbed his arm, as he would have turned away. His skin was warmed by the sun, his muscles toned by hard work and training with her father’s men-at-arms. Everyone said that he would make a fine knight one day, but as yet he had not been honoured. Her father had said that he must earn his spurs for his father had been but a poor knight. ‘Tell me the name of this man. No one has mentioned marriage in my hearing.’
‘He is a great man, rich and powerful. The Earl of Montroy owns many castles and lands.’
‘Montroy…’ Rhoda’s face lost its pretty colour. She stared at him in horror, her eyes wide. ‘No! You must be mistaken. The earl is old and ugly, his face twisted by the mark of the Devil.’
‘He is not so very old, sweeting.’ Kerrin laughed and took her face between his hands, stroking her smooth cheek. ‘Not more than three and thirty years. It was a seizure that disfigured one half of his face. You listen to foolish gossip, Rhoda. The man has recently lost his wife. She was brought to bed with her third son and both died within a few days of the birth. Rumour hath it that she was possessed by demons and lost her mind. It is said that before she died she tried to kill her husband.’
Rhoda shivered and made the sign of the cross over her breast. ‘Montroy is cursed and all his descendants with him. He has had two wives and neither of them has given him a living child. Both wives did not long survive their children.’
‘Which is why he has asked your father for you. He wants a son, Rhoda. He cares nothing for you.’ Kerrin’s voice blazed with passion. ‘Run away with me tonight. I will take you far from this place – to France or Italy, a place of sunshine and laughter they say. I shall make my fortune and you will have all the jewels and clothes you crave.’
‘My father will not give me to that monster,’ she said, shaking back her hair so that it fell about her shoulders in glossy waves. ‘He could find a worthy husband for me. Why should he give me to a man like that?’
‘I do not know but I heard him speak of it to his steward,’ Kerrin said. He took her by the shoulders, gazing down at her hotly, fingers digging into her flesh. He was hurting her but she did not cry out for his words had stunned her and she felt numb. ‘Come with me tonight. I beg you.’
‘No. I will not come. Nothing is settled yet.’ Rhoda was uncertain as she looked into his face. ‘Wait a little while, Kerrin…to please me.’
‘No.’ His face was set hard. ‘Either you come with me or I go alone.’
‘Then you go alone.’
Rhoda regretted the words almost as soon as they left her mouth. She wanted to call them back but Kerrin was angry. He let her go in such a violent manner that she stumbled and almost fell. Then he was striding away from her, his back rigid, shoulders set proudly.
‘Don’t go…’ she managed at last but he was too far away. Either he did not hear her or he was too angry to glance back. ‘Please do not leave me, Kerrin. I love you… I love you.’
He was too stubborn to heed her. Rhoda glared after him. How dare he behave so? He would be sorry soon enough and then he would beg her pardon in the most delightful way. Yet his words had worried her for she did not wish to marry a man she despised. Montroy was a brute and cruel. It would break her heart to marry such a man. She brushed away the debris that clung to her tunic. Her mind would not be at rest until she had spoken to her father. Surely Kerrin had made a mistake.
*
‘No, Father. I beg you,’ Rhoda cried. ‘Do not force me to wed the earl. He is so ugly…’ She shuddered because she had seen Montroy once and the lust in his eyes as he looked at her had sickened her. ‘I would rather go to a nunnery.’
‘Ridiculous child,’ Sir Henry Morgan said, his thick brows lowered as he met her sulky look. ‘You know not what you say. The nuns would never tame your wild spirit. I have done my best for you, Rhoda. My fortune is slight and your portion no more than three hundred silver pounds. With that I could buy only an insignificant baron for your husband. Montroy came to me after his wife died. He wants you and will take you without your portion. As Montroy’s wife you will be received at court and wear costly clothes and jewels. I thought you wanted to make a good marriage?’
‘Yes…’ Rhoda faltered. She wanted to we
d Kerrin but knew that her father would never hear of a marriage between his daughter and a poor kinsman. ‘But to a young, handsome man. Someone I can love and respect. Someone who will love me.’
‘Montroy is not so old. His twisted face makes him appear older, but he is no more than his early thirties. He will live long enough to give you children – and if you bear him a son, everything you could wish for will be yours. I have been lenient with you thus far, Rhoda, but if you disobey me in this I shall be angry.’
A shudder of revulsion ripped through her. The thought of lying with a man she despised was anathema to her. She felt the vomit in her throat but quelled it. This could not be her fate. Kerrin was right. She must flee with him this night for it was useless to plead. Montroy had bought her father’s allegiance with three hundred silver pounds and he would not change his mind. Indeed, her good sense told her that he dared not for Montroy was a bad enemy. All the tales she had heard of his rages came to her mind, making her faint with fear. She would not wed him; it would kill her to give herself to such a man.
‘You are my father. I must obey you – but I shall never forgive you.’ She cast an accusing look at her father, then turned away.
‘Rhoda…it was for the best…’
She would not look back at him. Keeping her head high and her back straight she walked from the chamber. As soon as she was sure that her father could no longer see her, she picked up her skirts and began to run. Kerrin would be in the stables. She would go to him, tell him that she had changed her mind. When he left her father’s service, she would go with him.
A smile touched her lips as she negotiated the stone steps at the side of the hall, which led to the courtyard. Her father’s house had a stone undercroft for storage with the hall built above; the only entrance by means of these steps. It was a style much favoured by nobles for it was easy to defend in times of trouble. She was thinking of Kerrin’s pleasure when she told him she would go away with him. He believed that she had nothing but it was not quite the truth. Her mother had given her a gold chain that had belonged to her grandmother and a bracelet of silver set with precious amethysts. They would bring enough money for them to live on until Kerrin could find service in the household of a rich lord. He was brave, strong and confident. Surely he would soon rise to a position of trust?
