by Linda Sole
Robert’s nails curled into the palms of his hands. He was angry. So angry that he wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her. He wanted to kiss her until she melted into him, to feel her soft body beneath his and hear her cries of passion as she surrendered to him. His jealous nature made him wonder if she had indeed been Malvern’s wife. Had that lying Devil known her sweetness? A part of Robert wanted to take Melloria’s white throat in his hands and squeeze until she begged for mercy but he controlled his anger with an iron will. She was his wife and safe here at the abbey. If she demanded a period of time apart he must give her what she asked. One day he would make his own demands. He would make her confess the truth and if he discovered that she had lain with Malvern…he dared not let his thoughts take him to that dark place, because he was not sure what he would do.
‘I agree,’ he muttered, the words forced out of him because there was no other way. ‘I shall do all that you ask of me – but you must promise to give me something in return.’
‘What do you ask of me?’
‘Let me kiss you once. Let me hold you. If I must fast for a year and a month, let me have something to remember.’
‘One kiss no more.’
Melloria stood absolutely still as he came to her. She was like a statue made of stone as he put his arms about her and held her close to his heart. Her lips were cold beneath his and did not part or invite as they had always done when he kissed her. Disappointed and angry, he dragged her head back, tangling his hands in her hair as his hungry mouth moved down her throat to the little hollow at the base. His tongue licked at her and he pushed his knee between her legs, his hands clasping her buttocks as he pressed her against his bulging manhood.
‘No.’ Melloria thrust him away, her expression proud and angry. ‘If you treat me that way I shall never lie with you again. You demand too much.’
‘Your demands are unreasonable.’
‘Then I shall give my life to God.’
‘No! Damn you, no.’ Robert burst out, frustrated and angry yet knowing that once again he was at fault. ‘Forgive me. I have dreamed of having you so many nights. Very well, I shall agree to your demands but if you refuse me then I shall come and take you back. If you break your word to me taking vows will not help you. Remember this, Melloria. I would fight my way in here and take you. You would be responsible for injury or death to those who tried to keep me out.’
‘You make threats when you should make apology. Ask God to forgive you for your sins, Robert. Cleanse yourself of sin and then you will come to me as the man you once were – the man I loved.’
‘I shall do penance for my sins,’ he said. ‘Forgive me, Melloria. I love you and I shall come for you in one year and one month.’
Inclining his head to her, he turned and strode away. Melloria had made so many demands and he was not certain he could keep all of the promises he had made her.
* * *
Melloria sank down on to a wooden bench after the sound of Robert’s footsteps died away. She felt as if all her strength had left her, almost faint with relief that he had accepted her terms. When he had given her such a punishing kiss she had been afraid he might force his will on her and take her here in this house of sanctuary and devotion to God.
Bending her head, she covered her face with her hands, the tears trickling down her cheeks. Robert was so fierce and angry. She had never been afraid of him when they were husband and wife but she was now.
‘Has he gone?’
Melloria looked up and saw her sister looking at her anxiously. ‘Yes. He has given me a year and a month to pray and meditate.’
‘It will be enough,’ Beatrice said. ‘If we are careful he need never know the truth.’
‘Robert is so jealous. He always was even when he knew I loved him. If he were to guess…he might kill me, and the child in my womb.’
‘I have no doubt that the child of Nicholas Malvern would not be safe from him.’ Beatrice looked at her sadly. ‘We can hide you Melloria, keep your secret safe until the child is born. We can find a good woman to take the babe and care for it – but you will have to bear the knowledge and the pain of losing your child. Robert would never allow you to keep Nicholas Malvern’s child.’
‘I believe he would kill the babe, and perhaps me. I have never known him to be so violent. He has changed and I do not think I shall ever trust him again.’
‘I wish that I had spoken to you before I told Robert where to find you, sister. I shall bear the guilt of that good man’s death on my soul.’
‘He was a good man despite the things people said of him. I think he did things that made others fear him. I have seen drawings of men with their heads trepanned, their brains laid bare and dissected for study. Nicholas told me that he had done such a procedure when a man was dying from a growth that was pressing on his brain.’
Beatrice shuddered and crossed herself. ‘No wonder others feared him. That is something unnatural and against the laws of God.’
‘Nicholas removed the soft tissue from the man’s brain. His notes said that the man’s pain was relieved, though he was afterwards slow in understanding and one arm and leg was slightly paralysed.’
Beatrice shook her head. ‘It would have been better to let the man die. Such things are beyond our understanding.’
‘Beyond yours and mine perhaps, but Nicholas was a special man – a man out of his time. He studied illnesses and tried to discover the causes as well as the cure. One day it will not be thought a crime to speak of and perform these things. One day a man of such skill will be honoured and revered, as he should be, and religious prejudice will be at an end.’
‘You must not speak to me of these things, Melloria. My beliefs and yours are very different now.’
‘Yes, I know.’ Melloria smiled. ‘I shall not plague you, dearest. Soon I shall move into the hermitage you spoke of. But first I would beg a favour of you. There are things at Malvern I need to fetch. Will you allow Sister Selina to drive me there?’
‘Yes, of course. You should be safe enough now that Robert has given his word. Yet I would advise you to wait for a day or so until we are sure he has left the district.’
‘I am sure he would not tarry,’ Melloria said. ‘But I shall wait until the morning.’
7
Rhoda was nursing her child when the door connecting her chamber to Robert’s opened. She was aware that he stood there watching her but did not look up immediately. Her son was sleeping, his face softly flushed and beautiful. If she had not loved him at the first she did now. His tiny fists had curled about her heart and she felt protective and proud of her achievement.
‘Is he not beautiful, my lord?’ she said as Robert came towards her. ‘I have been thinking of what we should call him. Would you object if he were named Harry in honour of my father?’
‘Harry is a good name.’ Robert said. ‘You have done well and I am grateful for my son…’ He hesitated, then, ‘Rhoda, there is something I must tell you. Put the child in his crib and come to me.’
Rhoda looked at him in surprise. He looked so serious. Her heart jerked with fright. Had Jonathan spoken to him? Was he angry? On reflection, she thought he did not seem angry, merely anxious…concerned.
‘Is something wrong, my lord. Have I displeased you?’
‘No, you have not displeased me…’ Robert continued to look at her in his quiet grave manner as she came to him. ‘I must tell you something that will distress and anger you.’
‘I do not understand you…’
‘I have wronged you, Rhoda. You should never have been snatched from your father and when my plans went awry I should have sent you back to him.’
‘He would have made me marry Montroy.’
‘Perhaps not. I think you know that Jonathan cares for you. Had I not married you he might have made you happy.’
He did know. Rhoda’s heart thumped wildly. ‘Perhaps but you did marry me. Are you saying that you…will let me go?’
‘I must send you away, Rhoda. You are not my wife. My wife is still alive…’
Rhoda gasped feeling shocked and stunned. ‘Melloria is alive - but why did she not come to you, tell you that she lived?’
‘She was ill and lost her memory. It is recovered now and she is with Mother Abbess at the convent of Saint Innocent. She needs a little time to recover her spirit and pray for peace.’
‘But she will come back one day? She will be your wife?’
‘Yes, that is my hope and my intention.’ Robert cleared his throat. ‘I must make recompense to you, Rhoda. I have taken what was not mine to take. I shall give you money and jewels and you may leave here…’
‘Not to a nunnery! I shall not be made a prisoner with those grey women who smell stale and pray all day.’
A faint smile touched his mouth. ‘I think you wrong them, Rhoda, but you do not belong in such a place. What I had in mind was that Jonathan should take you away, perhaps to another country. I believe he would wed you and restore your honour. He has told me that he loves you and I think…you love him?’
Rhoda bent her head. She had not expected this and the feeling of excitement was strong. ‘You are not angry? You will let us go?’
‘I am relieved that you have someone who loves you and will make you happy, as I never could.’
‘Thank you.’ Rhoda looked up, her excitement dying suddenly as she saw his face. He still looked so serious. ‘What is it that you have not told me?’
‘My son stays here with me. He is my heir. Melloria has a daughter, perhaps two – but I may never have another son. I shall take Harry as my heir and he will inherit my estate…’
‘No. He is my son. I carried him in my womb for nine months. I gave him birth. He is mine. I love him.’ Rhoda was angry, her fists curling at her sides. He had offered her so much but it was not enough. It would tear her apart to leave her son behind. ‘Robert, you cannot do this to me. Please, let me take him. I will send him back to you when he is grown to a man’s stature.’
‘No, this I cannot do.’ Robert’s expression was implacable. ‘You have my terms, Rhoda. I shall give you gold and jewels and your freedom, but you must relinquish the boy to me. When you leave here you will not see him again. He will be brought up to believe that Melloria is his mother.’
‘That is unfair.’ Tears gathered in her eyes. She wanted to rush at him, to scream and beat him with her fists but she could only stand and stare at him as the tears spilled over and down her cheeks. She tasted their salt on her tongue. ‘I love him…he is mine…’
‘Harry stays with me. You must go. I am sorry but I have no choice.’
‘You are cruel and heartless. Did you never care for me at all?’
‘You were young and pretty. I made a mistake and I regret it. I shall pay for it, as will you, for you should have refused me and gone to the nuns. Pack your things. Jonathan will be ready to leave within two hours. I shall not see you again.’
Rhoda watched as he left the room. She felt a surge of rebellion. Why should she give into his demands? He was not her husband. He could not command her. She could simply take her son and run away and yet if she did that he would come after them. He would take back his son.
‘It is not fair…’ Rhoda suddenly hurled a cushion at the door between her chamber and Robert’s. He had wronged her and now he was taking her son from her. She was to have gold and jewels and Jonathan but not her son. Rage built inside her. One day she would have her revenge for all he had done. He was the powerful lord and she but a woman, yet one day she would make him suffer. ‘I pray that you will suffer as I do. I pray that you will never know a moment’s true content. I pray that you…’ The door opened and Joanne entered followed by two more serving maids. Joanne bent and picked up Rhoda’s son, turning to leave the room. The other servants began to gather Rhoda’s things and pack them into a trunk and bags that would be slung over a packhorse.
‘What are you doing with my son? I want him here.’
Joanne turned to look at her, a hint of triumph in her eyes. ‘The earl has given his son into my care. I shall see that he wants for nothing, my lady. You need not fear that he will come to harm.’
‘Wait! Let me look at him,’ Rhoda said. She ran to the woman, looking down at Harry’s flushed face for a moment before bending to kiss him. ‘I love you. I shall not forget you.’
‘Forgive me, my lady. I must take him to the earl.’
Rhoda nodded and stood back, a coldness coming over her. She had never loved Robert but now he had given her cause to hate him.
She left the servants to their work and went down to the courtyard. Jonathan was there, speaking with some of the other men. He was shaking hands with them and seemed to be taking leave of old friends. As she went up to him, he turned with a smile on his lips.
‘Robert has agreed to let us go, my love. Is that not good news?’
‘Yes. I am glad to be free – but he keeps my son.’
‘His son, Rhoda.’ Jonathan looked grave. ‘I know this grieves you, my love, but we shall have other children. Perhaps Robert will let you visit your son one day.’
‘Perhaps.’ Rhoda held her anger inside. She knew that it would be useless to beg Jonathan to avenge her wrongs. He loved Robert as a brother. She would need time to drip poison into his ear, but perhaps in time she would make him understand and if not she would find some other way to make the earl suffer for what he had stolen from her. ‘Yes, we shall have more children, Jonathan.’
He took her hands in his, looking down at her with love. ‘Do not try to hide your pain. I know and share it for I loved the boy as my own, but Robert has the right to keep his son. He could have sent you to a convent but he has been generous. We must accept what has happened and live for the future, Rhoda.’
‘Yes, we must live for the future,’ she said and smiled but inside she was raging. Robert Devereaux was a careless, arrogant man who deserved to be taught a lesson, and one day it would happen. ‘I shall be ready to leave within the hour.’
8
Melloria knelt before the altar in the chapel, her head bent in prayer. She had spent the night asking for forgiveness and guidance, but as she rose to her feet and walked away her heart was laden with sadness. Her grief was too overwhelming to be born, and yet there was a strange sensation of Nicholas calling to her.
Was he calling to her from beyond the grave or did he still live? She was not sure. All she truly knew was that she would not rest until she had seen his grave and said goodbye to him.
‘It was too cruel,’ she whispered. ‘You did not tell me and when you did I was stunned. I could not think clearly. I would never have left you, Nicholas. Though our loving was a sin I should have stayed with you.’
She knew now that she had never loved Robert as she loved Nicholas. When she was married she had been proud, proud to be the wife of an earl, proud to be the mistress of fine castles, proud of her husband’s position at court – but she had never loved with her heart and body.
Robert spoke of loving her but she could not recall that he had ever shown her the tenderness Nicholas showed her every time he touched her. She belonged to Nicholas. Nothing could break that bond…not even death.
Yet her heart refused to believe it. She had seen him lying there and thought him dead, but now he called to her. As she lay in bed, waking and through every moment of her day, his heart called to her. She knew that she would never rest until she was sure.
* * *
Melloria sat on the driving box of the cart next to Sister Selina and looked about her. Once she would have been shamed to ride in a cart for they were reserved for criminals and murderers, but she had been grateful for the offer. There were things she needed from Malvern and she would need some way of transporting them.
If she had not seen the signs of devastation with her own eyes she would not have known what had happened here. The dead had been carried to a place of sanctuary and the blood had washed away in the heavy rain of the pr
evious night. She could see no sign of life in the courtyards, and the gate had been left open rather than closed as Nicholas preferred it.
Nicholas must be dead. The grief washed over her, catching at her throat and stinging her eyes with tears she would not shed. She thrust it from her. The time for weeping was over. She must make her plans for the future, and that included rescuing Nicholas’s precious journals. Until they arrived, she had been afraid that the house might have been ransacked or destroyed but it looked much as it had when she was taken away.
‘Wait here for me, sister,’ she said to the nun as she got down. ‘I must fetch some things from inside the house and see how things are left.’
‘Would you like me to come with you?’
Melloria smiled as she saw the fear in the nun’s eyes. ‘I am quite safe here. Nicholas did not hurt me in life and would not do so in death. His servants may have run away for there seems to be no one here. I shall not be long.’
Melloria walked up to the house and pushed at the door. It swung back easily for it had not been locked or barred from the inside. Looking about her, she noticed that some furniture was still lying where Robert’s men had thrown it in their haste to subdue the servant’s. She thought that certain items of silver had gone but was not interested enough to try and remember exactly what had stood where. She had not come here for money or jewels but something far more valuable.
Walking up the twisting stair that led to Nicholas’s private chambers, she was aware of feeling an oppressive sadness. Already the house had an air of neglect. She suspected that once the dead were buried those that survived had taken what they could carry and fled.
Outside Nicholas’s chamber she paused, her heart racing. What would she find inside? Had someone destroyed it wantonly without knowing what treasure lay between the pages of his journals? She held her breath as she went inside and then exhaled a sigh of relief. At first glance, it seemed that no one had been here. Everything was just as it had been the last time she sat here with her husband.
