June Francis

by Convenient Wife Rebel Lady

  He did not answer. ‘We will go to the cathedral and then we will return to the inn and eat. Hopefully we will see Raoul there. I must pay him for your horse.’

  ‘I can pay for my own horse,’ she retorted.

  ‘Indeed, you will not,’ he growled. ‘You are my wife now and I will provide for you.’

  She opened her mouth and almost blurted out that he had not bedded her since they made their vows so their agreement could be dissolved. Immediately, she was ashamed of herself. How could she think such a thought when she wanted to be with Jack and to have him make love to her? She also wanted to see him laugh more.

  Once inside the cathedral, Anna gazed with interest at the cathedral’s painted walls and was struck dumb by the soaring magnificence of the nave. Jack had been inside the cathedral before, so he was looking for something else. It was here that Monique had wept over her sins and he had tried to comfort her. Eventually, he had persuaded her to walk the labyrinth with him, but she had given up halfway. He went over to the design in the floor and, whilst Anna was gazing up at the roof, Jack was staring intently at the tiles.

  Suddenly, she became aware that he had wandered from her side, and looked about her. Then she saw him and watched, wondering what he was doing as he traversed this way and that, his eyes fixed on the floor. She walked over to him and noticed a strange pattern in the tiling and was curious as to its meaning. ‘Jack,’ she called in a low voice.

  A moment ago he had appeared completely absorbed, but now he lifted his head and gave her a smile. ‘Have you seen one of these before, Anna?’

  She shook her head. ‘I was about to ask you its meaning,’ she whispered.

  ‘It’s a labyrinth, similar to a maze. Betwixt Milburn and my home in Hull, there is an ancient maze out in the open. It is believed to have been used to trap evil spirits during ritual dances. Matt and I were caught out there during a storm one afternoon. He swore he felt a presence that sent shudders down his spine.’

  ‘Did you feel it, too?’

  Jack grinned. ‘Of course I did. Later, I believed it was only because he had put it in my mind and that the heaviness in the air was caused by the storm.’

  ‘But surely this labyrinth set in the floor is not meant to trap evil spirits?’

  ‘No. It symbolises the Christian life and the hard path to God. Most folk cannot go on pilgrimage to far lands, so by meditative prayer whilst walking the labyrinth, one tries to reach God. I came in here with a demon riding on my back and then I remembered this being here.’ He touched his cheek. ‘This scar—do you hate it?’

  She wondered why he should choose that moment to ask such a question. She reached out and traced its snaking length with a gentle finger. ‘I thought I had already made clear that it does not bother me. It is part of the Jack I know now, so why should I hate it?’

  He pressed her hand against his cheek and held it there. ‘It’s ugly. Covered it’s invisible, so I could pretend it’s not there,’ he rasped.

  ‘But it won’t go away, Jack. You have to accept it and stop worrying about what others think of you.’

  ‘But Philippe, he—’

  ‘He will become accustomed. I said earlier that it is the inner man that is important. You must show him that man more and more.’ She took his hand and placed it against the tiny scar on her face. ‘I deem you would persuade me that this tiny scar does not matter. Yet it reminds me that there are those in England who still believe me to be a witch. I have to try hard not to let what they said about me matter.’

  He stroked her cheek. ‘But you’re not a witch.’

  ‘Of course not. But my mother was a wanton and my father a murderer. I do have bad blood.’

  He scowled. ‘Nonsense. We have touched on this matter before and you are not like them.’

  ‘I—I enjoyed you making love to me and we were not wed,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘Does that make me a wanton?’

  ‘Not in my eyes. It is a sign of your…’ His voice trailed off as he became aware that they were being watched. ‘Come, let us get out of here.’

  Anna wondered what he had been about to say. A sign of her what? But she could not ask him. Once they were outside, she said, ‘I don’t know what I might have to face if I return to Fenwick. Despite my belief that Owain is capable of sorting out matters there for me, I cannot be sure that he will be able to do so.’

  Jack frowned. ‘There is no need for you to fear, Anna. You will not go alone. You are my wife and I will protect you with my life. Now let us go from here. I still have arrangements to make.’

  That evening as Anna undressed ready for bed, she wondered what Jack had been going to say. To him her enjoyment of his lovemaking was a sign of…what? He must know that she was fond of him, just as she was certain he was fond of her. So they were not in love, but fondness was a fair basis on which to build a marriage. Yet they were only setting out on their married life and much could go wrong. If aught was to happen to Jack, how would she cope? She felt a sudden shiver of fear and then told herself she was being foolish. Jack was having a final few words with Raoul but she wished her husband here now.

  She was gripped by a nervous excitement as she stood naked, fingering her old darned silk night rail. Then she set it aside and reached for the primrose silk shift that she had taken from the armoire at Raoul’s house. The garment had spent two days and nights in her saddlebag, but fortunately the scent of lavender had so impregnated the garment that it overrode the smell of horse. As she pulled the garment over her head and let it fall, she enjoyed the sensual feel of the silk against her skin. Suddenly she heard footsteps outside in the passage. Despite her quickening pulse, she resisted the urge to leap into bed and conceal herself beneath the bedclothes as she had done on her first wedding night. Instead, she sat on the side of the bed and began to remove the ribands that fastened her braids.

  There was a discreet knock on the door, then it opened and Jack entered the bedchamber. He paused momentarily just inside the doorway and watched her. She tugged at a riband and it came loose, slipping from her fingers and falling on to the bed. ‘Is—is all arranged with Raoul?’ she asked.

  ‘Aye,’ said Jack, approaching the bed. ‘Here, let me do that.’ He sat beside her and took hold of one of her braids, pausing to kiss the nape of her neck before swiftly unravelling first one plait and then the other. The red-gold curtain of her hair rippled down over his hands and arms. ‘What lovely hair you have, Anna.’ His voice was husky. He could not resist lifting the waving mass and burying his face in its scented beauty.

  ‘You think so?’

  ‘I would not say so if it were not the truth,’ said Jack, gathering the massed strands of hair in one hand and moving it to one side. He planted tiny kisses down the side of her neck and Anna felt a delicious lethargy creep over her. ‘You have beautiful skin, too,’ he murmured.

  ‘I’m glad you deem it so,’ she said in a throaty whisper.

  His fingers had found the bow of the drawstring that gathered the neck of her shift. She felt the ribbon tighten and then loosen before the garment slipped from her shoulders and fell in a huddle about her waist. Her senses were heightened as he slid a hand up her spine and round her waist to lightly touch her breasts. Her breath caught in her throat as his teeth grazed her neck and he slowly turned her around to face him.

  ‘I want to make you happy, Anna.’

  ‘And I you.’

  ‘Then let us join together now.’ He blew out the candles and began to remove his clothes.

  Anna would have liked to have watched him and was disappointed. ‘Why did you kill the light?’ she asked.

  She sensed his hesitation before he said, ‘I thought you might have preferred it. You need not worry about my finding you in the dark. I have an excellent sense of direction.’

  ‘No doubt,’ she said drily. ‘You are a traveller, after all.’

  A light laugh escaped him. ‘You would still hear my tales, Anna?’

  ‘Of course. But o
nly when you are ready to speak of them. I would hear of the time you raced camels.’

  ‘I was matched against the finest riders in the city and I won my race. One of my rivals said it was more by luck than any great skill.’

  ‘Of course, you denied that,’ she said firmly, delighted that he was opening up to her.

  ‘Aye. Although he would have ground me down if it had not been for my lady. She was jubilant and said that I had the ability to become a great rider. She wanted me to race again, but I had proved my point that I was their equal. Besides, within weeks of that race, she sadly died of an apoplexy. Fortunately for me she left instructions in her will that I was to be given my freedom, saying that I had proved my worth. She left me several jewels of great price. Immediately I sold one and took ship to Alexandria and thence another vessel to Venice.’

  ‘How kind of her. I am so glad that you were not prevented from leaving that country.’

  ‘It was not as easy as I make it sound,’ he said ruefully. ‘But I had learnt the language and made contacts whilst labouring in her service.’

  Anna felt the bed give and the next moment he was lying beside her and had drawn her into his arms. ‘Now enough of talking. I want you, Anna,’ he murmured against her ear. His tongue darted out and licked her earlobe. She felt a sensual thrill uncurl inside her and then her arms went up round his neck and she was offering him her lips and her body.

  This time their lovemaking was a more leisurely affair and she took time in exploring his body with gentle hands and sweet kisses, having in mind his belief that he was ugly. So it was that she felt the scars on his chest and back. The temptation to ask what had caused them was overwhelming, but his tension was such that she resisted and surrendered instead to his caresses that proved to be deliciously satisfying. Afterwards they both fell into a deep sleep.

  Jack woke suddenly. He was perspiring and filled with fear, having dreamt that Anna had been snatched away from him and he could not find her. Then he felt her stir against him and his relief was enormous, causing him to question the depth of his feelings for her. He would have liked to have made love to her all over again, but told himself that he must let her rest. He pressed his lips against her naked shoulder and experienced a flood of tenderness. She had given him so much and he was grateful. He turned away from her and lay on his back, planning the day ahead.

  Several hours later Anna woke to the realisation that she was alone in the bed. Suddenly she was frightened. Where was Jack? She called out his name. ‘I didn’t mean to disturb you when I left the bed,’ he said, coming towards her.

  ‘It doesn’t matter. Is it time to rise?’

  ‘Soon. We will have to make an early start.’

  She stretched and yawned. ‘How far is it to Calais?’

  ‘Twenty leagues or more. We will need to break our journey. There is an inn in Arras where I stayed years ago.’

  ‘On business?’

  ‘Aye. I had a commission to buy a wall hanging for a very rich customer back home, whilst delivering bales of woollen cloth to sell on behalf of my brother at the fair there. I came along the river in a flat-bottomed boat from the sea. The city is well worth a visit. I am certain you will enjoy seeing it. Hopefully, so will Philippe.’

  ‘I’m sure we both will. Tell me more about it.’

  ‘It used to be in the domain of the Dukes of Burgundy during our wars with France and is well fortified. It has a fine cathedral and the town grew up around the abbey of St Vaast. You will be pleased to know that English is commonly spoken due to the city being close enough to Calais for our countrymen to make their homes there.’

  Anna felt the mattress dip as he climbed back into bed. She wondered if he would want to make love again. She had her answer in no time at all, as he drew her towards him. She relaxed, reassured that he had found her satisfactory earlier.

  As the light of dawn filled the bedchamber, she noticed the scars on his back and this time she guessed what had caused them and was horrified.

  ‘Were you whipped as a slave, Jack?’

  ‘To my shame,’ he rasped, turning his face away.

  ‘Why should you be ashamed?’

  ‘They treated me as if I was worth less than a dog. You can’t imagine what that does to a man, Anna.’

  ‘Oh, I think I can. But you endured, Jack. And I for one am proud of you.’ The sight of his back truly shocked her and she wanted to weep for him. ‘Did no one anoint them with salve for you?’ she murmured, touching the scars lightly.

  ‘Salt! The first time I was beaten they rubbed salt in the wounds.’ The words burst from him.

  ‘The pain must have been agonising!’ She wrapped her arms round him and let her tears fall.

  ‘Please, don’t cry, Anna.’

  She rested her face against his poor back and sobbed.

  ‘Anna, please,’ he said desperately. ‘Don’t cry! It’s the past. Over and done with. As you say, I endured. I’m here to tell the tale.’

  She gained control of her emotions and wiped his damp back with her hair. ‘So you are. I’m glad you can see it in that light now.’

  Jack turned and took her wet face between his hands and kissed her gently. He felt far too emotional to speak of his feelings. Instead he said roughly, ‘Shall we rise and make an early start?’

  She nodded.

  They dressed. She donned the blue gown taken from the armoire in Raoul’s house. He offered to comb her hair for her. She thanked him and he brought her against him. ‘Surely you do not unbraid your hair every night?’ he asked.

  ‘No. It is cooler and more convenient when braided.’

  He began to bring some order to the red-gold mass of hair. ‘Then you did so last night for my pleasure?’

  ‘Aye.’

  Her words pleased him and he told her so. She felt appreciated and sensed they had drawn closer. He braided her hair and she coiled it about her head. They did not speak but it was a comfortable silence.

  Later they shared a last breakfast with Raoul, who had decided to visit Paris before travelling on to Bruges. Afterwards, he went to the stables with them and watched their horses being saddled. ‘You will sell the horses in Calais, Jack, or will you take them to England with you?’

  ‘I will sell them. There is little enough space on my ship for us and the cargo, without concerning ourselves with horses,’ said Jack.

  ‘You should have a bigger ship built,’ said Raoul firmly. ‘Can I look to see you in London in the spring?’

  ‘I have not thought that far ahead, but maybe in May when the winter storms are over,’ said Jack, attaching the saddlebags to his horse.

  Raoul took hold of the bridle of Anna’s mount and led the horse outside. She followed him out. For a moment they stood, gazing at each other. ‘So this is farewell, dear sister,’ he said. ‘It was a very short visit. But perhaps next time…’

  Anna did not know what to say, for she had no idea of Jack’s plans. Raoul bent his head and kissed her. ‘God grant you a safe journey and much happiness. Do not fret yourself about our father. One must live in the present.’

  She wished him Godspeed. He helped her into the saddle and stepped back. He waved to them as they departed in the direction of Hortense’s house.

  Anna was aware of Jack’s gaze upon her and she wondered if he considered her even a little foolish for having come all this way to find her half-brother. Yet if she had not done so, then she and Jack would not be married, so all had turned out well. She wondered what Owain would think when he heard the news. One thing was for certain—he would need to look for another husband for Beth.

  Philippe was sitting on the doorstep waiting for them when they arrived at the house. He was neatly dressed in a cream linen shirt, a doublet of brown fustian, black hose and boots. On his head he wore a soft velvet brown hat and fastened about his thin shoulders was a cloak. Beside him on the step was a bundle. He looked on edge and started when Jack dismounted. He called for Hortense.

  Slowl
y, she came out of the house. Her dark hair was wispy about her tear-stained face. ‘So you have come for him,’ she said.

  Jack placed both his hands on her shoulders. ‘I cannot thank you enough, Hortense, for all you have done for my son. If you were not marrying Antoine, I would have taken you and the grandmother with us.’

  ‘Non! Impossible.’ Hortense gave a watery smile. ‘She would never leave Amiens. Besides, you have your wife to be a mother to Philippe now. But take your leave quickly and don’t allow him to look back. He cried in his sleep last night.’

  A muscle in Jack’s throat twitched and for a moment he felt a sense of helplessness as he looked down at his son. Was he doing right taking him away from here? Then he caught Anna’s eyes on him and was encouraged.

  ‘It is natural that he will be sad to leave you, Hortense, and you must believe I will bring him to visit you when I can. But before I go, you must have these.’ From a concealed pocket he took two pouches. ‘One is payment for your provision for Philippe and the other is a bride gift from him.’

  A smile broke out over Hortense’s face and she opened the smaller pouch first. As she removed the brooch her eyes almost popped out of her head. She kissed it and, seizing hold of Jack’s doublet, she kissed him, too, before babbling almost incoherently her appreciation and gratitude.

  Watching them, Anna hoped that gift would go some way to ease Hortense’s grief. And soon she would be married herself and hopefully have children of her own.

  Then Hortense kissed Philippe. ‘Go, go, and be happy,’ she said in heavily accented English.

  Philippe scrubbed at the spot where she had kissed him and did not speak. His father lifted him on to the pillion seat. A sob broke from Hortense and she turned away.

  ‘Let us go quickly, Jack,’ urged Anna. ‘This is so painful for them both.’

  With a final ‘Merci et au revoir!’ Jack and Anna rode away from the house. Anna’s eyes were on Philippe, who hung his head, not looking this way or that, as they made their way to the city gate. Once outside the walls of Amiens, Anna drew her horse alongside Jack’s. He was looking stern. She wondered if he was thinking of Monique. Perhaps there would be times when he looked at Philippe and was reminded of her. Anna knew that she must not be jealous of her memory or it could wreck everything good between them.