by Linda Sole
More than fifteen months had passed since she had run away from Malvern House. Marta was sure the child’s mother had died after giving birth to her and it was unlikely that her old master would come looking for the babe. Todd was right. Mary was theirs and no one would ever know the truth, and yet there was always a doubt in her mind, a fear that one day she might be called to account for stealing the child.
SIX
‘I do not know how you can ask this of me, Father.’ Rhoda met her father’s unbending gaze. Anger smouldered inside her but she held it back. Thus far her pleas had fallen on deaf ears. Sir Henry had insisted that the betrothal go ahead by proxy but she still prayed that something would happen to save her from what she believed a fate worse than death.
‘You make too much of it,’ her father told her coldly. ‘Marriage is a woman’s duty. I am your father and you will obey me or I shall have you locked in your room and you will have nothing but water and bread until you apologise for your behaviour.’
‘I would rather be dead than the wife of that monster.’
Sir Henry stared at her in stony silence, his mouth set in a hard line. ‘You are churlish, daughter. The earl is wealthy and you will have all the comforts you are accustomed to in my house. If you hanker for that knave who rode off without a word to me, you are even more foolish than I imagined. He will never be more than a lowly squire at best.’ As Rhoda’s eyes widened in shock, he smiled. ‘Did you imagine that I did not know he lusted after you? Had he not left of his own accord I might have been forced to thrash him for his impudence.’
‘You are cruel and I hate you.’
‘You may hate me if you wish but one day you will thank me for arranging such a good match. We leave for Winchester in the morning. The earl is in residence at his town house, which I am told is a fine building not far from the Bishop’s palace. He also has land and a castle in Northumbria, which is his family seat. It is my understanding that the earl intends to ask the Bishop to conduct the ceremony in Winchester Cathedral.’
Rhoda was silenced by his words. A fine house, rich clothes and jewels were all things that appealed to her but she wished that the man her father had given her to was young and handsome.
‘I do not wish to be married even in the cathedral.’
Her father gave a snort of anger. ‘Be quiet, girl! We leave in the morning. Your maids are packing your trunks as we speak. It will be necessary to stay somewhere for one night or more so have your maid pack whatever you need into a small trunk that may go on the packhorses. The largest portion of your dowry will go by wagon and start out ahead of us.’
Rhoda’s throat was tight with emotion as she turned aside. It was useless. He would not listen to her. His mind was set on this marriage and nothing would change him.
What could she do? Her father’s word was law as far as she was concerned. She was bound to obey him; it was her duty and yet her fiery nature rebelled at the unfairness of his actions. Why could he not have found her someone more suitable? Her heart and body yearned for Kerrin, though her mind told her that he would never be able to give her the kind of home she had here. If only he had not ridden off and left her. She would have gone with him rather than submit to her father’s demands.
Wild thoughts of running away flitted through her mind, but she knew that she could not manage to earn her own living. It was true that she was skilled with a harp; she knew her letters, could add up accounts, embroider and ride her own horse; she knew the uses of spices and herbs in cooking and for preserving and the making of cures, all the things she had learned at her mother’s knee. None of these things would be of any use to her if she ran away. She would be forced to find work in the fields and it was doubtful that anyone would employ her. Unless she went into a nunnery. A shudder went through her for she did not wish to spend the rest of her life shut up in a cold cell with only a rough habit to wear and bread and water to eat. Rhoda longed for life, for the chance to dance and laugh, to run in the meadow and see love in a man’s eyes.
If her mother had lived she might have persuaded Rhoda’s father to change his mind before things had gone too far but she had died three winters before of a putrid chill.
Walking up to her solar, Rhoda faced the inevitable. In the morning she would leave her father’s house for the last time. She would continue to pray for a miracle but if nothing happened she must accept her fate. There must be some way of avoiding her duty to her husband. Life as a nun did not appeal to her. Surely there must be something else she could do?
*
‘My spies tell me that they leave Shrewsbury tomorrow morning,’ Jonathan said. ‘Her dowry is being sent on ahead to Montroy’s house in Winchester. If we choose well we may ambush them on the road. Sir Henry’s train will consist of no more than ten men-at-arms and a handful of servants. We shall have the advantage of surprise for they will not expect an attack.’
‘I am not certain.’ Robert looked at his friend doubtfully. ‘As you know, I have written to the Bishop of Winchester to ask for news of the child. I had thought to speak with him in person.’
‘I thought you would not rest until Montroy was punished?’
‘I would see him dead at my feet, but the girl is innocent. What do you expect me to do with her if we take her prisoner?’
‘Send her father to Montroy with your demands. Ask for recompense for all you have lost. Or demand that he meet you in single combat – the winner to take the girl and her dowry.’
‘I doubt Morgan can give her much of a dowry.’ Robert wrinkled his brow in thought. Since learning that his daughter might be in Winchester, his craving for revenge had lulled to a dull ache in his breast. Melloria was dead. Nothing would bring her back to life. The Castle of Devereaux was already being rebuilt. King Henry had sent him a grant of five hundred silver marks to help put right the wrong done, though it would do no more than pay the wages of the stone masons and carpenters needed to restore the walls and roof of the keep. Robert had decided to build a new manor house rather than a castle in the old style. The old keep had not stood against his enemy but he had planned a new design with an inner and outer bailey, which would make their defences stronger. However, Devereaux had never been comfortable and he liked the new ideas that were being used to bring comfort to more modern houses with wooden floors, and, though it was vastly expensive, some glass in the windows. ‘But Montroy owes me for the destruction of the castle, though nothing can pay for what he took from me. This plan of yours is sound, Jonathan. We shall ambush Sir Henry’s train in the woods. There will be no wanton killing. While I and some of our men attack from the front, you and the others will snatch the girl and ride off. Take her to Craigmoor and keep her safe until I come.’
‘Where will you go?’
‘To Winchester. I must speak with the Bishop about the child.’
Jonathan looked him in the eyes. ‘You know that Montroy goes hand in hand with many of the clergy? He has given generously to the Abbey and priory.’
‘I shall offer the Bishop advice.’ Robert’s gaze did not waver. ‘There is dissatisfaction amongst some of the barons. I have heard it whispered that they may plan trouble for the King, and Montroy is in league with de Montfort. I believe that Simon de Montfort may prove to be their leader and will bear watching. As you know, Prince Edward has been given the administration of Gascony, Ireland, the Channel Islands, Wales and the County Palatine of Chester. These are weighty responsibilities and he is newlywed.’
‘The whole of Henry’s outlying fiefs…’ Jonathan nodded to show he understood his meaning. ‘You believe the disaffected barons may see this as a good time to move against the King?’
‘The prince is recently married and still young. If the barons do plan rebellion, either here in England or in Wales they may think the prince has his mind elsewhere.’
‘Henry will not stand for rebellion either here or in Wales. He will return to fight at the prince’s side.’
‘And he will subdue any rebellion, but he is plagued
on all sides for he is determined to give no ground in France. Montroy’s brother was a traitor to the crown and spoke against Henry’s rule. He like others would see the King’s power reduced and contained. The barons will rule him if they can, as they did King John. I fought and killed Montroy’s brother as the King’s champion and that is why Montroy took revenge on me. The Bishop should be warned that Montroy may also be a traitor.’
‘Yes, I see.’ Jonathan thought it through. ‘Your plan is a bold one but you should take care. I have no love of bishops or the clergy; they are often crafty, greedy men who seek their own advantage in all things. If they believe it is to their advantage they will side with the barons.’
‘I have heard good things of the Bishop of Winchester from Mother Abbess, Melloria’s sister. She says that he is to be trusted. Besides, I have no choice. The church are best placed to discover the truth for they have a finger in every pie. There is little that goes on in the town that does not come to the ear of the clergy.’
‘You speak truly. Once we have the girl I shall ride off with her. You will come to Craigmoor as soon as your business is done in Winchester?’
‘Unless I receive word that the prince needs me.’ Robert smiled. ‘You are a good friend. Had you not been staunch in your friendship I might have sunk into my grief and allowed Montroy to go unpunished.’
‘If the girl is as lovely as they say, the debt will be paid. Montroy must pay the ransom or lose her.’
‘She is innocent, Jonathan. Remember that she is but a pawn in the game.’
‘She will come to no harm in my care.’
‘I know it.’ Robert clasped his shoulder. ‘The hour is late. We should sleep for we rise early in the morning.’
They parted, each to their own chamber, but Robert lay sleepless, staring into the darkness as he thought of the wife he had loved.
What had happened to his wife and child? The question haunted his every waking moment and gave him tortured dreams.
‘Forgive me,’ he whispered. ‘I should not have left you. I should have been with you when the child was born.’
*
Simon Malham looked at the letters lying on the board in front of him. The Bishop had bid him answer them both but give the softer answer to Mother Abbess. He was in no doubt that his employer wanted nothing to do with the affair of the missing child, though it was certainly within his power to make inquiries in the town.
He took up his quill and began to write that the lord Bishop had instructed him to make inquiries on Mother Abbess’s behalf.
It will not be easy to trace the child, he wrote, however, I shall inquire of the priests the whereabouts of any child who hath been baptised in the past year and is of the age you describe. My lord Bishop hath impressed upon me that every effort is to be made in the search and should anything of a suspicious nature come to my attention, you may be sure that I shall send you word of it. Your obedient servant, Simon Malham, scribe and trusted clerk to my lord Bishop of Winchester.
To the Earl of Devereaux he wrote a briefer note:
My lord Bishop instructs me to write that every effort will be made on your behalf. My lord feels it unlikely that the child can be found but will continue to make inquiries. Your obedient servant, Simon Malham.
Laying down his quill, Malham considered. As the Bishop’s scribe, he received nothing but his food and lodgings. Might it not be that an earl searching for the fruit of his loins would pay much for information that led to the recovery of a stolen child? The Bishop might not be interested in finding the babe, but there could be a profit in it. He hesitated and then wrote another sentence at the bottom of the page. It was not beyond his powers to look for the child himself. He had friends in the clergy and the town. It would do no harm to ask a few questions.
A smile came to his thin lips. Simon Malham’s nature did not fit well with the life of a celibate, though he had lived at a monastery for most of his life. Taken in as a child by monks after his whole family was wiped out by a contagious sickness, which miraculously did not touch him, Simon had been taught to read and write and to pray. The prior had been an old man and lax with his fellow monks, allowing them to live much as they pleased. Simon had been trained as a monk and taken his vows, though he had no calling. By living an outwardly decent life and speaking piously, Simon had become accepted by his brother monks and when he showed an aptitude for beautiful lettering he had been given work in the library at the priory, inscribing works of religious significance with his neat hand and gold leaf.
The Bishop had visited the priory on the occasion of the old prior’s death, and, seeing Simon’s work, had offered him a place in his household. Simon had accepted, knowing full well that life in the Bishop’s palace would be very different. He had become outwardly more pious and his lusts had been hidden while he worked hard to gain his new master’s confidence.
It was interesting to learn the politics that went on in the great churchman’s house. By reading the Bishop’s private letters he knew enough to make sure that he was obsequious to the men the Bishop favoured and sharp with those that would cause his master annoyance. Simon was aware that the Bishop’s coldness to the Earl of Devereaux was caused by his friendship towards the Earl of Montroy. Both were powerful nobles, though he believed that Devereaux was closer to the King and Prince Edward than Montroy. The quarrel between the two earls rumbled on, though Simon had learned that the Bishop had made representation to King Henry for Montroy’s transgression to be overlooked. He had taken revenge for his brother, who, he maintained, had been wrongly accused of treason.
Simon was interested to learn what the outcome of Montroy’s petition would be. If his brother were a traitor then perhaps Montroy was too and the Bishop had chosen the wrong side. It was always as well to keep a foot in both camps until the issue was decided. Simon would make his inquiries for personal gain, but if he succeeded and the Earl of Devereaux prevailed with the King he might have done his master a service as well. He could yet become a rich man.
Simon rubbed his hands together and thought of all the benefits money would bring him. He would begin his inquiries as soon as these letters had been sent. In time he would leave the Bishop’s employ and live as he pleased, his vows forgotten.
His thoughts strayed to the pretty whore he had recently visited. Margaret was comely and she knew how to please him; he liked to use whips and gained much pleasure from hearing her scream. He thought that he might visit her that night. If he received money from the Earl of Devereaux he would be able to visit the whores more often.
*
Rhoda deliberately let her horse drop behind her father’s. She had no wish to converse with him because he cared nothing for her feelings. If he considered her wishes he would never have betrothed her to a man he knew she disliked. Glancing at the forest to either side of the road, Rhoda thought about riding into it. She was a good horsewoman and might be able to avoid the men her father sent to search for her – but what would she do then?
She had been over her options a thousand times in her mind. It was possible that she might escape her father and she had some money in the tooled leather purse that hung from the gilded girdle she wore around her waist. However, that money would not last long and, as a woman alone, she would be vulnerable. Vagabonds and thieves roamed the highways and woods, preying on unwary travellers. Many people were murdered and robbed, which was why it was safer to travel with a large train such as her father’s. She could never protect herself. The further they travelled from her home, the more she considered whether she would prefer the life of a nun to being Montroy’s wife. If she begged for sanctuary at an Abbey the nuns might take her in. It was not the life she would prefer but perhaps…
Lost in her thoughts, Rhoda was taken by surprise when a man’s mailed fist suddenly took her reins, his horse so close to hers on the narrow path that she could not avoid contact with him.
‘What are you doing?’ she demanded, her heart thudding. He did not look like
a vagabond for he was dressed as a knight but he was a stranger to her.
‘You are the lady Rhoda Morgan?’
‘Yes. Who asks?’
‘You do not need to know that for the moment,’ the knight replied. She could see little of his face and his head was covered with a hood of chain mail but his eyes were grey and his face not unpleasant to look upon. She noticed that several other men had surrounded her father’s servants. Ahead of her the train had come to a halt and there was some shouting and the sound of harness jingling. She looked at the knight who had taken her reins in consternation, alert but not unduly alarmed.
‘What is happening?’
‘Your father’s train is being attacked. Come with us now and you will be safe.’
‘No! Why should I?’ She heard cries of shock and anger, and saw men trying to fight back against the superior force that had come upon them. ‘My father…I am on my way to be married…’
‘To a man who does not deserve you. Do you wish to marry such a monster as Montroy?’
‘No…’ Rhoda’s eyes opened wide. She discovered that she was not afraid of the man whose hand held her reins. ‘No, it was never my wish to marry the earl of Montroy.’
‘Then come with me, lady. You have my word that you shall not be harmed.’
Her prayers had been answered. Rhoda did not question why she was being taken. Given a choice, she would lie in this man’s bed rather than Montroy’s any night. He was a knight and of gentle birth. His manner was quiet and she instinctively felt she could trust his word. It did not matter why she had been abducted. The thought uppermost in her mind was that she had been saved. Whatever happened to her in the future, she would not have to marry a man she despised.
‘Do you give me your word I shall not be harmed?’
‘You have it, lady.’
‘Then let us go,’ she replied and smiled. She felt a surge of excitement when he turned her horse into the woods, holding fast to the reins as they rode the narrow path that twisted through the forest, following the trails left by foxes and other beasts.
