by Sole, Linda
Beth shook her head and moved away, going to sit in the chair. It was such a luxurious room and the furnishings were all of the finest quality. Even Sir William’s hall did not have as rich hangings as the one that covered this floor. She had not realised that her Knight of the Raven was so wealthy – but then, she knew hardly anything of him. He had come to her one enchanted night and she had borne his child, but she had sensed the darkness in him that day when he rode by as she was picking herbs near Sir William’s castle.
Sir Raoul had told her that his father was murdered – poisoned by his wife and a priest. He claimed that he had punished them. How had they been punished? By trial and execution or…? A shiver went through Beth as she though of what Aline had told her.
Was the tower truly haunted? Had Sir Raoul locked a murderess in her tower and left her to die? Was that why her spirit haunted the place, screaming and cursing all that lived here?
Fifty Three
‘Forgive me for disturbing you at this late hour,’ Lord Tomas said to the Abbess. ‘I am looking for my daughter. I was told that she might have claimed sanctuary here. Has a young woman of perhaps twenty years come looking for a babe or asked for sanctuary?’
‘I do not know of a young woman asking for sanctuary,’ Mother Abbess replied. ‘The hour is late and my sisters are at prayer and will then take their supper before bed. You and your men are welcome to stay in our guesthouse this night, but I cannot allow you to enter the convent. In the morning Sister Isolde will speak with you. I believe she may have some news for you, though it may not be all you would wish.’
Tomas sighed wearily. ‘Forgive me, Mother. I am tired and I do not understand you. I have pushed both my men and myself hard to reach you, for I am desperate for news of Beth.’
‘Very well. Go the guesthouse and the porter will bring you food and water. Brother Simon will care for your horses. After prayers I shall ask Sister Isolde if she will delay her supper for your sake.’
‘Thank you. If there is anything I can do for you or your order, I stand in your debt.’
‘We have work amongst the poor. Give alms and help us do God’s work, sir. We need nothing for ourselves. Now excuse me for I must join my sisters in prayer.’
‘I thank you for sparing me so much of your time.’
Tomas left the convent gate and went back to his men. He knew they were bone weary for they had hardly stopped riding all that day. In his fear that he would be too late he had pushed them to the limit and it was much to ask, but something drove him on. If he had come so close to finding Beth only to lose her again he would not know how to face Beatrice. He must have something to take back to her – something that would warm her heart and ease the grief she had carried for too long.
The monk who cared for male visitors opened the guesthouse for them. There was no fire but the makings were there and the men set about it with a will. Soon the flames began to throw out a little heat and they sat by the fire, warming their hands, eating the bread, cheese and vegetable soup that was offered for their supper. It was plain fare but it filled empty bellies
Tomas sat staring into the flames, deep in thought. Would sister Isolde have news of his daughter? He had come so far and to lose her now would be a cruel blow. He had set out with such hopes and Beatrice would be expecting good news. To return and tell her that her daughter was lost once more would be something he could hardly bear to contemplate.
It was perhaps an hour later that the porter returned to tell Tomas that he must come to the gate of the convent.
It was cold out and Tomas shivered despite his warm fur lined cloak. He strode hastily to the gate, seeing that the small door at the top was open and a woman’s face could just be seen behind it.
‘Forgive me for greeting you thus,’ Sister Isolde said. ‘I am forbidden to leave the convent grounds at night, unless attending the sick, and then I do not return until morning. I have some news for you, my lord, for I believe that Beth’s child has been found. I have been told that her mother was put to the test as a witch. If ‘twas so, I fear the worst for I doubt she survived.’
‘By the goodness of God and Sir William’s prompt action she did survive that day, but since then she has disappeared. I will not weary you with the tale for you must want your supper. Where is the babe? How can you know that she is Beth’s?’
‘When I delivered Beth’s child she told me her story, as she knew it. She took me to her home and showed me a green silk gown, which was hers as a child. The babe we have is wearing a gown cut down from the one I saw that day.’
‘God be praised! I feared she might be lost or dead.’
‘Amen to that, sir. It was God’s will that she should be brought to us. I have her safe and I shall care for her. In the morning you may see her – but perhaps you should leave her with us for a time? She is very young and not yet weaned. I do not think you could care for her properly alone.’
‘If the babe is Elspeth’s I shall find a wet nurse for her,’ Tomas said. ‘My wife will know how to care for her and I shall take her home. You have heard nothing of the woman you know as Beth?’
‘Nothing more than that she was put to the test, as I told you. I had not heard that she was rescued and then disappeared.’ Isolde hesitated. ‘If Beth lives she may come here. I am not certain that I have the right to give you her child.’
‘She is my granddaughter and I swear to you on God’s Holy Bible that I shall care for her and give her the life she is entitled to enjoy. If she stays here and her mother does not come to claim her what will happen to her then? Should Beth come to you, keep her here and send for me. I shall fetch her. She will be reunited with her child and her mother at my home, where she will be welcomed with open arms. If you care for her Isolde, you must see that my way is best.’
‘Yes, perhaps,’ Isolde agreed. ‘Very well. Find a nurse that can feed and care for her on your journey home and I shall release Katharine to your care.’
‘God be praised.’ Tomas gave a shout of joy. ‘Beatrice will take consolation from holding her granddaughter in her arms – and if God is kind we shall find our Elspeth one day.’
‘Beth may come to us,’ Isolde said. ‘She knows that we are here to help women like her and in time she may seek us out. If I were sure she would come I would keep her child here for her – but you are Katharine’s grandfather. She will at least be safe with you.’
‘Thank you. May God reward you for this blessing, sister. I know you will accept nothing for yourself, but I shall leave a donation with Mother Abbess so that you may continue your work amongst the sick.’
‘Excuse me, sir. It grows cold and my supper awaits.’
The tiny door in the gate was shut. Tomas turned away. He would look at the babe and the evidence in the morning. Once he was certain of his facts he would engage a wet nurse and send a letter to his wife. He turned and walked back to the guesthouse, finding a place next to the fire. It would be a long night for he would find it hard to sleep, his thoughts turning again and again to Elspeth. Where was she this bitter night. Had she found shelter and was she safe? He knew that she must be frightened and grieving for her lost babe, but he prayed that someone would show her a little kindness.
If she still lived he would find her. God had led him to her babe. Surely he would succeed in the end?
Fifty Four
Beth was sleeping when Raoul entered the chamber. Lying on the top of the coverlet still fully dressed, her hair spread on the feather pillows, she looked so beautiful that his heart stopped for one moment. She appeared so innocent, so calm and peaceful that he was loath to wake her. He had hoped to claim her this night, taking all the sweetness that she offered him, but finding everything in chaos in the castle had thrown him off balance and he’d spent most of the night setting things to rights.
His steward had left a journal of his accounts and from the glance Raoul had taken all had been well until his death, but the stores were much depleted and his uncle’s coffer had littl
e silver left. If the rents had been gathered at their usual time there should have been money enough to see them through the winter, but perhaps there were some outstanding. Raoul would need to study the accounts to be sure. Otherwise it would seem that he had been robbed. He frowned as he unbuckled his sword and pulled off his long leather boots. If he discovered that to be the case he must either ignore it and decide what to do with the estate or make a hue and cry and seek out the culprits. To do that he would need to interrogate men that were still slightly wary and a little hostile because of what had happened here. He was not certain it was worth the effort, though he might have to make an example of some – perhaps men who had deserted their posts. Yet why make enemies when he was not sure what to do with the estate?
God knew he did not want it! He had sworn he would never return to this accursed place but it was nearer than his house in London and he needed to give Beth a chance to know him. She was wearing a silk dress but it was torn in some places and would not do if he wished to flaunt her as his mistress. A few days here would give him time to send for new gowns, clothes and jewels fit for the woman he intended to be his life’s companion. He had not thought to wed Beth. She was beautiful and he wanted her but he owed something to his cousin Mary. He had never spoken to her of marriage, but there was a silent understanding that one day she would be his wife. Raoul knew that his uncle had expected it.
His uncle was dead and Mary was with the nuns. He could if he so chose give the convent a dowry for her and leave her there to take her vows. There would be nothing then to stop him making Beth his wife, if he so wished. She had born him a daughter if she spoke truly and he had no reason to doubt her. Thus far she had asked nothing of him. Raoul had no intention of making his home here in the castle. He would stay for long enough to set it to rights and then…perhaps he could offer it for sale at Winchester. There were wealthy merchants who looked for a manor and a title. If they were willing to pay they could have this one – but if he sold there was something he would need to do first.
Angeline’s body lay unburied in the tower. He had left her as she lay on her bed with her white neck broken, the life drained out of her, left her to decay, unshriven and without the benefit of prayers to see her soul on its way to heaven. When he rode away the next morning, Raoul had locked the tower and instructed that no one should go there again. His steward had asked about the lady Angeline and been told that she had gone away. The man had looked at him oddly but remained silent. Had he guessed that Raoul had taken his revenge for his father’s murder? If so he had condoned murder by his silence.
A nerve twitched at Raoul’s temple. What he’d done was a sin. Angeline had deserved to die but she should in justice have received a trial before her peers and been executed within the law. Even a convicted murderer was given a chance to say prayers and make his or her peace with God before he was hung. Raoul had struck in anger, then felt such black despair and remorse that he’d lain by her body all night. In the morning he’d felt numb, robbed of all emotion. He had left her there coldly, deliberately, refusing her even the right of burial. Even now his thought was to move her body in secret and bury it in un-sanctified ground. Why should she be at peace when he was not?
A wry smile touched his mouth. He had sought to punish her, but sometimes he thought that he had punished himself more. Angeline would never leave his mind. He did not fear death or the fires of Hell, because nothing could cause more pain than the torment he imposed on himself.
Little wonder that he had oft thought himself cursed. Now the people of his manor believed they were cursed. His uncle was dead of a fever, the village people had suffered the loss of crops the previous spring and were hungry – and the men were afraid of the east tower.
Beth stirred and moved her arm. He was tempted to wake her and love her, but she was sleeping so contentedly, like a kitten curled before the fire. Dismissing the thoughts that tortured him, he lay down beside her. God forgive him and grant that he could for one night sleep as sound as the girl that lay so sweetly at his side.
Beth woke as she heard the cry and felt something strike her. For a moment she was fearful, unsure of where she was or what was happening. As the moonlight penetrated through the slit in the wall and her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she realised that this was the chamber Aline had brought her to earlier that night, and feeling the weight beside her she turned her head. A man lay at her side. He was wearing only his hose, his upper torso and arms bare, and the sheen of his skin looked golden in the moon’s light. His scent told her that it was her Knight of the Raven. He was sleeping and had thrown out his arm, striking her as he tossed restlessly, in the grip of some powerful dream. A cry of fear or grief left his lips and he called a name.
‘Angeline…’ he muttered feverishly. ‘Forgive me…No, no, she deserved to die. Murder…she murdered him…Forgive me, Father. I should not have…’
‘Hush, my love,’ Beth murmured softly and leaned over to smooth her hand over his damp brow. ‘’Tis but a dream. Rest easy now, my knight. I am beside you.’
His eyes opened and for a moment he stared at her so fiercely that Beth drew away. Jerking up, Raoul rolled her back into the mattress and gazed down at her. His grip was hurting her and she gasped, her heart beating wildly. Her breath came faster and she thought that he meant to ravish her, as William had without a care for her wish, but then the strange look faded and he turned on to his back, his head upon the pillows.
‘For a moment I thought you were her,’ he said. ‘Forgive me if I hurt you.’
‘It was nothing. I woke you from a bad dream.’
‘I dreamed of her – the woman who plotted with a priest to murder her husband.’
‘Your father’s wife?’
‘Yes…’ He hesitated, then, ‘I killed her. She laughed as she told me what she had done. She boasted of the men she’d lain with and how many times she had betrayed my father’s trust. Like the Jezebel she was, she tempted me to lie with her.’
Beth felt the chill at her nape. ‘You punished her and if she murdered her husband mayhap her death was just – but she was deserving of a trial.’
‘I gave her no trial. She was a cheating whore and died, as she deserved. I broke her neck. She was laughing, mocking me even as she died – and she mocks me still in my dreams.’
‘Is that why you cannot forgive yourself?’ Beth pushed herself up against the pillows and then slipped from the bed. She went to stand at the slitted window, staring at the opposite tower. ‘Is it your father’s wife who haunts the east tower?’
‘Angeline. Her name was Angeline. I left her there to rot and she still lies there, un-shriven. I brought the curse on this place.’
Beth shivered, sensing the darkness in his soul. ‘That was not well done of you, sir. If she did as you say she was evil but I have heard that even the convicted murderer is allowed to make his peace with God.’
Raoul left the bed and came to stand at her back. He placed his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. ‘Do you fear me now, Beth? Have I made you hate me? I told you that you would not like my darker side.’
‘I pity the poor lady’s soul for I think she is in torment,’ Beth said softly. She touched his cheek. He felt like ice. ‘Yet I think you suffer almost as much as she did, my knight. The first time I saw you, I sensed the shadow of darkness that hangs over you.’
He raised his hand, touching her cheek softly. ‘Yet you still lay with me beside the pool. Why do you not fear me now after I have told you what I did to her?’
‘Because I know that you sought justice for your father’s death. If Angeline did and said those things she was evil, but I do not believe you are evil, my lord. I think you are haunted by what you have done.’
‘Will you not call me by my name? I have committed terrible sins, Beth. I think that perhaps God has turned his face from me. My soul is tormented and only you can give me ease.’
‘I will gladly ease you if I can,’ Beth said and smiled at
him. ‘After that night by the pool I looked for you to return for many months, but when you did not come I thought you had forgot me.’
‘I could never forget my sweet lady of the woods.’ He bent to brush his lips softly over hers, one hand caressing her beneath the tumble of her glorious hair, stroking her soft nape. ‘I meant to make you my mistress, sweet Beth – but now I think that would not content me. I will wed you, if you will have me, knowing the darkness of my soul.’
‘Are you sure you wish to wed me, Raoul?’ Beth asked, her voice no more than a whisper. ‘You know nothing of me. I cannot tell you who I am for I do not know.’
‘You say Marthe was not your mother?’
‘I remember a time when I lived in a castle with a beautiful lady. I was playing in the meadow when the men snatched me and after that there was only darkness in my mind for a long time. Marthe loved me in her way and I became her child – perhaps I always was. I shall never be sure.’
‘I told you before, it does not matter who you were. You are my lady and if you will have me I shall wed you.’
‘All I want is to be with you – and to find our daughter,’ Beth said. ‘If you will wed me then so be it.’
‘You ask so little and give so much. Will you let me love you now? I hunger for you but would not wake you earlier.’
Beth lifted her face for his kiss, a smile on her mouth as he caressed her with lips and tongue. He bent to catch her up in his arms, carrying her back to the bed and placing her carefully amongst the linens.
‘We shall not stay here long,’ he told her as he stripped away his hose and joined her. As Beth lifted herself, he removed the thin shift she wore, tossing it join his clothes on the floor. ‘You are so lovely. More beautiful than I remembered.’ His hand stroked her breast, his touch seeming almost reverent as he stroked and caressed down her navel to the soft warm place he sought between her thighs.
‘I care not where we are while you love me,’ she breathed, giving herself to him with all the sweet innocence of her being. ‘Mistress or wife I am yours to command whenever you choose.’
