by Anne Herries
Rob nodded and walked on. He was not sure whether he believed her or not, and wondered if he had been entirely wise to let Naomi tend Melissa. Naomi had saved Melissa’s life—but she seemed subdued, unlike the woman he adored. He prayed that it was not her experience in that cursed place that had changed her, for it would grieve him if her spirit had been broken.
Damn them to hell! He cursed Gifford for stealing her away and Leominster for incarcerating her in that oubliette. Yet there was nothing he could do but wait and hope that his love would return to him. He must be patient and not push his claims for she might shrink from him. He loved and wanted her, but she seemed fragile and tired and he was afraid of causing her more pain.
Perhaps it would be best if he did not visit her too often. She would be better in the company of her women until she was feeling truly well again.
Melissa woke again to see that the sun was filtering through the small window high up in her chamber. It was hazy, seeming to be filled with dust motes that danced and fell, disappearing as they reached the shadows. She sighed and stretched for the shadows were in her mind, hovering like dark-winged monsters waiting to pounce on her if she let herself remember.
She was no longer feeling so very ill. Three days had passed since she first recovered her senses, and she was remembering more all the time. She had not remembered what had happened to Rob’s face when she first saw the scar, but since then she had begun to piece things together. There were still gaps in her memory, but she had remembered that it was her half brother who had scarred and nearly killed Rob, though it was her father who had given the order—and he was dead, killed in the battle at Bosworth Field.
She felt nothing for her father. He had never loved her. She could not recall having been truly loved in her life, though the Abbess had been good to her. Something had happened at the Abbey, but Melissa could not remember exactly what. She knew that her aunt had died, but there was more…it was lost with the other frightening things that she had somehow shut out of her mind.
Did Rob truly love her? When he smiled, she thought he did, but she was certain of nothing. She seemed to be trapped in a kind of limbo that made her feel uneasy and nervous. She did not think that she had always been this way. Something had happened…something so terrible that it had brought down a curtain in her mind, leaving her afraid of what lay behind the shadows. She wished that she could remember exactly what had hurt her so much, because then perhaps she could learn not to be afraid, but no one would tell her. Naomi said that she had been very ill and it was best to forget, but she could not help wondering what had made her so ill. Naomi claimed that the Marquis of Leominster was to blame for her illness, but she did not recall ever meeting him.
What were they hiding from her? She would have asked Rob but he seemed to be distant from her. He treated her kindly enough, asking how she felt and if she needed anything—but he did not kiss her or tell her that he loved her. Had they quarrelled? Is that what she was frightened to remember?
Sighing, Melissa pushed back the bedcovers and put her feet to the floor. She wished that she could remember their wedding and what had happened since. Had she been happy until she was snatched away from Gifford? She knew that her feelings for Rob were still tender—but how did he feel about her? If he loved her, why was he keeping his distance from her? It was too difficult, for thinking made her head begin to ache again, and she was afraid of what she might discover if the curtain in her mind came down.
Rob saw Melissa coming down the stone steps that led from the tower that housed her bedchamber. He caught his breath for she looked so beautiful, and yet there was a fragility about her that had never been there before and it caught at his heart, making him almost fear to touch her. He was aware of a sweeping grief, because he could not forget that day in the woods when he had first seen her. She had been so proud, so full of life and confidence. It hurt him to see the hint of fear in her eyes, to know that it was justified after she had been so cruelly treated. She must have lost her trust in men in general—and perhaps in him.
‘Are you feeling well enough to come down, my love?’ he asked, going to meet her as she reached the bottom step. ‘Naomi said that you had a headache earlier so I did not disturb you.’
‘Yes, I did have another headache,’ Melissa said, and sighed. He looked so handsome if one did not notice the scar. In her mind he was always as he had been in the forest the day he had rescued her. ‘But it has gone now. I am much better, thank you.’
She was so polite, so gentle and there was hesitancy in her when she looked at him. Rob missed the fierce spirit that had been hers, his heart breaking as he saw the questions in her eyes. What was she thinking? Did she wonder if it was he who had hurt her? He had been harsh to her and it would be no wonder if in her confused state, she imagined that he was responsible for what she had suffered. He had considered whether it would be best to tell her the truth, though Naomi thought not. For the moment he had let her have her way. Had she not nursed Melissa so devotedly, his beloved wife would undoubtedly have died.
‘Do you think that you could be ready to travel by the end of the week?’ Rob asked. ‘I am bidden to Henry’s coronation. I do not wish to leave you here, Melissa—and the King would speak with you—but if you are not well enough I shall make your excuses.’
‘I think that I shall be well enough to come with you,’ she replied, a slight frown creasing her brow. ‘When shall we go home, Rob? I do not like this place. It frightens me. I do not know why, but when I wake in the dark something…’ She shook her head. ‘I should be glad to leave here with you.’
‘Then we shall leave in three days,’ he said. Perhaps it was the shadow of her ordeal here that hung over her. She might begin to recover when they were well away from it. He smiled at her, thinking that she was even lovelier than she had been at the start—but he did miss that sparkle in her eyes. He prayed that it was not gone forever. ‘It is pleasant out, Melissa. Would you care to walk with me for a little?’
‘Yes, I think I should,’ she agreed, and laid her hand on the arm he offered. ‘I do not think we have had much time to walk together since we were married.’
‘We have had little enough time to know one another,’ he replied. ‘We shall begin to repair that lack, my lady. Tell me what you liked to do when you were a child—and I shall tell you of my own childhood.’
‘Yes, I should enjoy that,’ Melissa said. She smiled but her eyes held a sad, faraway look as if she was not really with him. ‘I believe that I had a nurse when I was small. She told me stories of my mother…’ She frowned as she looked at Rob. ‘Is my mother dead? I cannot remember.’
‘You were told that she died soon after you were born,’ Rob said. ‘But your kinswoman, Alanna Davies, told me that she might still be alive—and I believe Owain told you.’
‘Yes, I think I remember something…the lily…someone gave Alanna a lily,’ Melissa said. ‘Owain promised that he would try to find her if she still lives.’
‘He stayed with me until he knew that you were safe—but he left us then to travel to the Isle of Ely. He will do all he can to discover if anyone has seen her.’
‘That is kind of him,’ Melissa said. ‘But he has always been kind to me. My father and half brother were not so…’ Her eyes came to rest on his face. ‘Shall you care for me, sir?’
‘Do you not know that I love you?’ he asked, and he felt a sharp pain strike him to the heart as he saw the uncertainty in her face. ‘I know that I was harsh to you. It took me a long time to forget my bitterness, but when I thought you would die…’ He frowned because he was still haunted by his dread of losing her. ‘Do you remember nothing of the nights we spent together?’
‘Please do not be angry with me,’ she said, and her hand trembled a little on his arm. ‘I do not remember our wedding, though I know that it happened. I remember riding through a forest on your horse—and that we pledged our love in the meadows, but so much is shrouded by a kind of mist. It hove
rs but I cannot quite recall it.’
‘How could I be angry with you when you have been so ill?’ Rob asked softly. ‘I want only to make you happy again.’
‘I believe I am happy,’ she said. ‘In my way. I know that I am not as before, but I cannot help myself. Forgive me if I disappoint you, husband.’
‘You do not disappoint me,’ he said, and took her hand, kissing her fingertips. ‘I love you and I want you to be truly well again, Melissa. You know that I would do anything for you, my dearest.’
They were outside now, walking in the courtyard garden behind the castle. Beyond the wall, the sound of waves crashing against the rocks could be heard. Melissa frowned as she heard it for it triggered some memory—something that she did not wish to recall. She shivered suddenly, and felt as if she were suffocating. What lay hidden in her mind that frightened her so?
Rob had promised that he would do anything for her. She wanted to ask him what had made her ill, to tear away the curtain in her mind but she was afraid of what might be revealed.
‘Could you send word to my kinswoman Alanna?’ she asked. ‘I would like to see her—and Rhona. I think there was a woman who served me by that name.’
‘Yes, that is so,’ he replied. ‘I shall send word for them to meet us in London—but is there nothing else you would have of me, Melissa?’
‘Nothing for the moment.’ She smiled at him. ‘The air is pleasant. I am enjoying our walk, sir. I hope that we shall walk together like this when we are at home.’
‘Yes, perhaps we shall,’ Rob agreed. He longed to sweep her into his arms and kiss her, to love her as he had on the night that she came to him, but he knew that she was not ready for his kisses. ‘Perhaps I should tell you about my home, Melissa? I think that you will find it more comfortable than this cursed place.’
‘Oh, yes.’ A little shiver ran through her. There was something about the castle that frightened her. ‘I am sure that I shall. Please, do tell me, Rob. I want to hear all about your home and your family…’
He nodded, smiling as he saw that the colour was returning to her cheeks. It was the shadow of the castle and what had happened here that hung over her. She would be better once they had left it behind. He for one would never wish to return. If he had been free to choose, he would have carried her off to his home at once, but the King had commanded him to be present at his coronation and he could not disobey him.
Melissa looked at Naomi as she prepared to leave that morning. She had been feeling a little better since her talk with Rob three days earlier and was looking forward to riding her palfrey. It would be nice to be out in the open air and away from the castle.
‘Are you sure that you do not wish to come with us?’ she asked the woman who had cared for her so kindly during her illness. ‘I am certain that my husband would find a place for you and your man at his manor.’
‘I thank you for the offer, lady, and I shall miss you, but we have decided that we do not wish to move southwards,’ Naomi told her. ‘Sir Robert has already rewarded me for my service. Geoffrey says that he shall give his allegiance to no master again. He wants to set up his own alehouse and I shall go with him as his wife.’
‘Then I shall not press you,’ Melissa said. ‘But I do thank you for your kindness to me—and this is my gift to you.’ She slid a gold ring from her little finger. ‘It will serve as a reminder of my friendship if ever you should need me.’
‘Thank you, my lady,’ Naomi said. ‘I think you will be well now. You no longer need my potions to help you sleep. I wish you a long life and happiness with your husband, for he is a good man and will take care of you.’
Melissa thanked her and went downstairs. One of the other women who had helped to serve her was to accompany them as far as London and then return north to her home, for Melissa hoped that when they arrived, Rhona might be waiting with Alanna Davies.
Rob led her horse forward as she walked out into the courtyard, shivering a little in the cold breeze that had sprung up. He gave her his hand, helping her to mount the sidesaddle, and smiled up at her.
‘Are you certain you can manage? You do not wish me to take you up pillion with me?’
‘I think I can ride well enough,’ she said. ‘You must not worry about me, Rob. I am much recovered now. My headaches have almost gone.’
‘I am glad to hear it,’ he said. It was true that she seemed a little better each day. He had great hopes that once the castle was left behind, she would begin to recover her spirits. He had not yet attempted to make love to her for he did not wish to distress her, and he was not sure that she would welcome him to her bed. He must be patient until she was herself again. ‘We shall ride as far as the village of Oxton today, where I have friends and we may stay in comfort for the night at their home. I do not wish to tire you too much, Melissa. We shall travel in easy stages for we have plenty of time. Henry will not be crowned until the end of the month.’
Melissa nodded and smiled. Already she was beginning to feel better as they rode away from the shadow of the great castle. Something had happened to her there. Perhaps she would remember it one day, but until then it hovered at the back of her mind, a dark menace that made her afraid to sleep alone.
She hoped that Rob would come to her chamber when they reached his friends’ home. He had hardly visited her in her chamber since the first time that she awoke and saw him there. Melissa did not know why. If he loved her as he claimed, why did he not wish to make love to her? Did he still blame her in his heart for what her half brother had done to him? He spoke of love, but was he only being kind because she had been ill?
She put her troubling doubts from her mind as she rode, Rob just a little in front of her, his men to the front, side and rear. They had still more than seventy men-at-arms and at least another thirty retainers so were a large party, causing the village folk to stare at them as they passed. Some of the women came out to wave and one ran up to Melissa’s horse, offering her a bunch of daises picked from her garden.
‘God bless you, lady,’ she cried out. ‘It was you that brought Robert of Melford here and he has been our salvation. The monster that treated you so ill took my son and I never heard of him again. I think he died in some wretched hole beneath the castle. God be praised that you were saved. But you owe your life to your husband, for it was he that saved you.’
‘Enough, old woman,’ Rob said, and threw her a silver coin. ‘Off about your business. My lady wants none of your tales.’
Melissa was shivering. She did not know why, but the old woman’s story had sent chills down her spine. She wished that she might have spoken to her for a moment longer, to ask her what she meant, but Rob was clearly impatient to be on his way and she would not cause him more delay. He had lingered long enough for her sake, and they must reach their destination in time for the coronation.
Yet she could not resist looking back at the old woman. What had happened to her son and why had he been left to die in a hole in the ground? It was true that things like that happened to those who angered great lords—especially one with a reputation like the Marquis of Leominster.
A picture of a man’s face flashed into Melissa’s mind. She could see his fleshy lips and the anger in his eyes as he grabbed hold of her arm, threatening her. A little sob of fear rose to her lips but she crushed it, deliberately bringing down the curtain in her mind. She did not want to remember what came next. She was sure that the man she had pictured was the marquis. She had made him angry and he had punished her, but she did not want to remember what had happened after that…it was a dark shadow at the back of her mind and she meant to banish it.
Rob turned to glance at her, frowning as he saw her expression. ‘Take no notice of the old crone,’ he said, sounding angry. ‘She is probably mad and does not know what she says.’
Was he trying to protect her? Melissa wondered why he did not want her to remember what had happened to her. She was afraid of lifting the curtain in her mind, but she might not have be
en if Rob had been there to explain what had happened before he came.
Perhaps when they reached Melford he would have more time for her. She wanted to ask him what had really happened to her, because she might be able to face the horror that menaced her if he was there to hold her when the darkness fell.
They stopped that night at a modest manor house in the village of Oxton. It was but a small place on the borders of Sherwood Forest, but there was a fine Norman church and a stream running past the churchyard as far as the Dover Beck half a mile or so to the south.
It seemed they were expected and a plump, smiling woman came out to greet them, welcoming them to her home. Her husband, a tall, thin man with a serious air followed her out and gave orders for the accommodation for the men, most of whom would be sleeping in the barns and stables.
‘I am Lady Anne Shearer,’ the woman told Melissa, giving her a warm embrace. ‘Come in, my dear, for I have heard that you have been ill and must surely be tired of your journey. It is chilly for the month wears on and we shall soon have winter upon us I daresay. Come to the fire. There’s mulled wine to warm you and food waiting on the boards.’
Melissa smiled at her, allowing her to usher inside to the large chamber that was their living room. The house had not been built above a score of years and was a modern, comfortable manor house rather than a draughty fortress. She felt immediately at home, holding her hands to the fire and smiling as the woman fussed over her.
‘You are too kind, Lady Anne,’ she said. ‘I am much better now I promise you.’
‘But you still look a little fragile,’ the kind woman said. ‘Take a seat on the settle by the fire and put this cushion at your back, my dear. I hate to travel, though my husband says that we must go south for Henry Tudor’s coronation. I am not sure that I would wish to, for I tell you plainly that I am a Plantagenet at heart, but I suppose he may trace his ancestry back to John of Gaunt.’
