‘What do I have to offer anyone, let alone a king-in-waiting?’
‘You have dark hair and eyes like spring grass. And you are intelligent. You know lots about herbs and healing and your voice sounds like an angel when you sing. Why don’t you sing now, Stepmother?’
‘A prince needs more than a pretty face for a wife. Athelings need wives who can play politics and bring them the throne. I’d rather be in my garden than at court.’ Alwynn pointedly ignored the question about singing. Ever since she had discovered her late husband Theodbald’s treachery, she’d taken no pleasure in music. Her voice tightened every time she tried. Of all the things she’d lost, that one hurt the most.
Merri balled her fists. ‘Sometimes you have to believe in better days. You told me that. After my father died and all went wrong. And I do believe. One day, everything will come right for the both of us.’
Alwynn forced her lips to turn up. Perhaps Merri was right. Perhaps she had been far too serious for the past few months, but it was hard to be joyful when you had lost nearly everything. It had begun with Theodbald’s death from a hunting accident. He’d been drunk and had ended up being gored by a wild boar. There had been nothing she or any monk could do to save him. It was then that the true extent of the debts were revealed and she’d had to take charge. ‘Your father’s death...altered things.’
The girl gave a solemn nod, her golden curls bobbing in the sunshine. ‘I know. But there are times that I wish we still lived in the great hall with a stable full of horses.’
‘There is nothing wrong with our new hall. It is where my grandmother grew up and it does have things to recommend it. A large herb garden.’
Merri wrinkled her nose. ‘If you like plants...’
‘We have no need of princes. I will be able to hold this hall.’
‘I know my real mother watches over us from heaven, but my father?’ Merri asked in a low voice. ‘Where does he watch us from?’
Alwynn stared out at where the early-morning sun played on the sea-weathered rocks. Tiny waves licked at the shore, nothing like the gigantic ones which must have hit the beach last night. ‘He watches from somewhere else. We need to pick an entire basket of the sea coal before the sun rises much further. There is a list as long as my arm of things which need to be done today. Gode has gone to see her niece and the farmhands are out helping to shear the sheep. Plus, there is the new wheel at the gristmill that needs to be seen to.’
Alwynn didn’t add that she had no idea how to repair the gristmill properly or do a thousand other practical things. And there was no gold for a steward, even if she could find one she could trust. But they would survive. Somehow.
Merri nodded. ‘It is easier now that Gode has her own cottage. She always tries to stop me from doing the truly interesting things just because she used to be your nurse and you listen to her.’
‘And we will find something to add to your collection—maybe a shell or a feather. But no raven or falcon. We have too many mouths to feed.’
Merri tugged at her sleeve. ‘What is that over there, Stepmother? Is it a man?’
Alwynn stifled a scream. A man’s body lay on the high-tide mark. A length of rope dangled from one arm and his hair gleamed gold in the morning sunlight. But it was his physique—broad shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist—which held her attention.
For a heartbeat, she wondered what he’d been like in life. He was the sort of man to make a heart stand still.
She shook her head. Really, she was becoming worse than Merri. After Theodbald, she should know a handsome face was no guarantor of a good heart. She had to be practical and hard-hearted, instead of the dreamy soul she used to be. There could be gold or silver, something useful on his person. Anyone else would have no hesitation in searching for it. The poor soul would have no use for it if he was dead.
‘The body will have come in on the storm.’
Merri gulped. ‘Is he...?’
‘Could anyone have survived that storm? In the sea? You know about the rocks.’
‘What shall we do? Get Lord Edwin? You know what he said—no one should remain alive if they wash up on the shore.’
Alwynn tightened her grip on the basket. The last person she wanted to encounter was Edwin and his sneer. He’d claim any treasure on the body as his own.
She’d vowed to starve before she gave in to that man. And while they were not starving, raising the required gold had taken just about everything she possessed.
‘Not yet. There will be time enough for that later. He’d only ask questions...questions about...about the basket of sea coal.’
Merri nodded. ‘Good. I don’t like him.’
‘Few do.’
Alwynn swallowed hard. She hated that she’d come to this—robbing the dead. She took a deep breath and clenched her fists. She could do it. She repeated the promise she had made when she discovered the extent of Theodbald’s treachery—she would survive and Merri would marry well. One man’s debauchery would not ruin any more lives.
‘You remain here, Merri,’ she said, tucking an errant strand of black hair behind her ear. Silently she willed her stomach to stop heaving. She had tended the dead before. ‘Then you can truthfully say you had nothing to do with the body.’
‘Day by day you become more like Gode.’
‘Trust me. You want to keep away.’ Alwynn knelt down so her eyes were level with Merri’s. ‘If anyone says anything, you are blameless.’
‘I’m involved.’ Merri twisted away and kicked a stone, sending it clattering along the beach. ‘I know what my father did. If anything, I should be protecting you. He is the one who cheated you and left you with a mountain of debts. Everyone says it when your back is turned.’
Alwynn put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. Silently she prayed Merri remained in ignorance of most of it—the bullying, the whoring and the gambling which had racked up the debts. ‘The past, Merewynn. I’m concentrating on the present.’
‘If the warrior is alive, will you save him? Or will you hit him on the head like Lord Edwin commanded everyone to do?’
‘He will be dead,’ Alwynn stated flatly.
‘Lord Edwin is wrong. Surely you should know if a man is guilty before you kill him. Otherwise you become a murderer. You become like the Northmen.’
Alwynn put her hand on Merri’s shoulder. Her sentiments exactly. ‘That’s right. If he is alive, we nurse him back to health.’
‘Promise?’
‘I promise, sweetling.’ Alwynn knelt beside Merri and gathered her hands within hers. ‘But don’t get your hopes up.’
‘If he is dead, can I have his sword? I can see it gleaming in the sunlight next to him. I could start learning how to use it. I’ve no desire to be a nun!’
‘Merri!’
With her cheeky smile, the girl appeared unrepentant. Alwynn sighed. Merri knew precisely how to wrap her around her little finger, always had...from the very first time they met. She had been the one bright light in her marriage and she could not have loved her more if she’d been her own.
‘If you want me to stay away from the body, you have to promise me something.’ Merri tapped her fingers against her mouth. ‘I’m not good without a cause.’
‘Be good for me and we will have a decent meal tonight.’
Merri’s eyes lit up. ‘Something other than yesterday’s pottage?’
‘I promise. I will make some of the singing cakes you love so much.’
Merri screwed up her face. ‘But I want the sword as well. You sold all my father’s swords. How can we hope to hold the estate without a sword? People want a strong lord or otherwise they might not pay what they owe us.’
‘Which people are you talking about?’
‘You know...I hear rumours.’
‘You shouldn’t listen
to servants’ gossip.’
Alwynn hugged her arms about her waist and turned her mind away from the problems which had plagued her for the past few months. They could wait until she’d investigated the body.
No man could have survive that storm. And she hated the thought of robbing the dead but she was certain she could see the dull gleam of gold on one of his fingers. Anyone else would have no hesitation. And once she had searched the body, she’d arrange for a decent burial. It was more than most would do. But it didn’t make her any easier. A distinct feeling of being unclean crept over her.
‘If he has a sword, we sell it. Swords are not for young ladies from a good family. Ladies become peace-weavers and woo with gentleness.’
Merri squatted down, resting her chin on her knees. ‘Then you’d best hope he is alive as I’m never going to be a peace-weaver. I’m going to learn how to fight and regain the fortune my father lost.’
Rather than answering, Alwynn made her way to the body. Up close, he was even more magnificent. The seawater had moulded his tunic to his torso and she could see the muscles of his back. A man to take your breath away. Or break your heart.
‘Right, I’m going to turn you over.’
She reached down and touched his sun-warmed shoulder.
His hand shot out and grabbed her ankle. Alwynn stifled a scream as she broke free and retreated a step.
The man was no corpse. He was alive!
Everything altered. She might be willing to rob a dead man, but not someone who lived and breathed. And she knew she could not do as Lord Edwin commanded. She was a healer at heart, not a murderer.
‘Easy now, I mean you no harm.’ She placed a firm hand on his shoulder. The muscles rippled under her palm, but they eased.
He gave a slight groan as she pushed him until he lay on his back.
‘Do you understand? I want to help you.’
She looked directly into his face. The face of a rugged warrior, one which had been tempered by time, but remained attractive. She hated to think what he’d been through out on the rough sea last night. His face sported several bruises and his arms were scraped raw where he had been dashed against the rocks. There were no obvious signs of internal injuries, but his blue-tinged lips revealed that he must be close to death.
His startling brown eyes held a mute appeal. Her heart twisted. She wanted to save him and not just because she’d promised Merri. She could spend days staring into those eyes. She shook her head to clear it. It made little sense. This man was a complete stranger.
‘I want to help,’ she said softly. ‘I want to get you somewhere where you’ll be safe. If you stay here, you will die and I think you want to live.’
Copyright © 2015 by Michelle Styles
ISBN-13: 9781460382912
The Chaperon’s Seduction
Copyright © 2015 by Sarah Mallory
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