Chloe’d heard enough. She would have to get word to her family. She’d gone back to her room and penned a letter of warning, which now sat tucked against her breast, for the moment when she thought she might be able to get it safely to them.
She’d spent a day panicking about her position within the household. Then she’d become angry. Immediately she’d gone down to the great hall to find the neat pile of rolled up straw mats and dingy blankets. She’d taken a nice grisly blanket, with visible bugs and lice on it and stuffed it into his luscious bed.
He’d itched for at least two days, but never said a word to her.
Chloe paced the length of her room, her hands clutching and un-clutching the skirt of her gown. Her mind was in turmoil. She felt guilty for her little trick. But why? Hadn’t he used her and tried to force himself on her?
Mais oui, but I thoroughly enjoyed it.
What had happened with Alexander? How had she let herself go like that? She acted like a common harlot, lifting up her skirts at the first sign of temptation. Her body instantly responded with the memories of his touch, his warm lips on her. Chloe shook with disgust at herself. And that man was so willing to ravage her on the spot! After she had pushed him away he had been angry with her, had thrown her off the horse at the foot of the keep. Did he really expect her to just let him bed her? Her anger boiled at his actions—yet she still became flushed with the memories of how his body felt on hers—the way his tongue lashed against the silky folds of her nether region, probing the sweet hot spot that sent waves of pleasure coursing through her. She had not known there could be such passion between a man and a woman.
Since she hadn’t seen him, or even heard his voice in a couple of days, Chloe assumed he’d been called away for some matter. Most likely to investigate the news of her family’s whereabouts himself, but she hoped that wasn’t the case. She knew he had other holdings. Perhaps he visited them every so often. Apparently he hadn’t left word with Harold to get rid of her.
Would he seek out her punishment when he got back?
Walking to the fire, she stuck the poker into the flames, watching as tiny embers sparked and sizzled. Too many questions and not enough answers.
She needed fresh air. Her room was stifling. Or was she being suffocated by all the lies? Leaving the fire she went to the window and pulled back the bear skin covering. Crisp cool air flowed in. Gazing out over the landscape, her eyes were drawn toward the bailey. True to his word, Alexander had James placed in the stocks, where the villagers taunted and tormented him. She’d watched with mixed feelings. Helpless to do anything, she’d eventually hidden away, avoiding the courtyard. The stocks were empty now. James had then been placed in the dungeon, and his mother dismissed from her position and ordered to vacate the village by the end of the week.
Not feeling like she was getting enough air from her window, and not wanting anyone to intercept her, Chloe wrapped her cloak around her shoulders, left her chamber, and descended a back set of stairs. She felt like the keep walls were closing in around her.
Stepping outside she walked briskly toward the bailey gates. Maude wasn’t the one who attacked Chloe. Why was the woman being punished so harshly? She shouldn’t be made to abandon all she knew. Chloe felt this punishment personally. It hit too close to home for her, and made her realize just how close she was to losing her own livelihood.
Chloe wanted to reach out to Maude, but that would only get herself into trouble. Alexander had ordered that no one was to help Maude. Perhaps she could speak with Lady Anne on the woman’s behalf? They had gotten to know each other better. It was only a matter of time before she’d ask for help getting word to her people. Blank parchment sat waiting on the table in her chamber. Several pieces already having been tossed and burned in the hearth.
The satchel was not in her room as she had suspected, and the groomsman who collected her horse claimed not to have seen it. She had searched the stable with her eyes just in case, and found nothing. It was gone from her now.
Who had taken it?
She prayed that it never turned up. The contents would surely have someone questioning her.
Chloe walked slowly along the road, deep in her thoughts. Her head faced the ground, and she watched her feet as they moved along, not hearing or seeing anything, but what was in her own mind. If only she could come forward and announce herself to Alexander. If only he didn’t look down on her so. If only her family hadn’t disgraced themselves, and surely sent her to her death.
She knew from the villagers that the man was tough with punishment, that he did not tolerate any sort of insolence. His knights even called him Dragon for his fierce fighting skills and his fiery tongue. Just thinking of his tongue sent a chill up her spine. The way he’d slid it along her lips and teased at the sensitive skin of her neck, her breasts, then lower as he’d lapped at the apex of her thighs. Oh, what sin! Would that she could feel it again. She said a quick prayer for forgiveness for her lustful thoughts.
Clearing her mind of lust, she thought of Alexander’s father. The villagers said that their overlord was considered a saint compared to his father, who wreaked havoc on those who did something as small as not bow low enough to him.
Since her father had most assuredly enraged the earl beyond belief, Chloe’s only thought was she was sure to get the axe if she were found out. Alexander’s father would see to it.
Harold had been good about keeping her distracted. He kept her running errands, learning different tasks, and taking over supervising much of the household staff. Trying to keep herself busy from the questions that plagued her, she’d dived right into the work, easily picking up all that he’d sent her way.
A hawk in the sky squawked at something and dove to catch its prey. Pulling her cloak tighter around her she quickened her pace. It was really too cold to be out walking, but she needed the exercise. She should walk back now. The last thing she needed was to get sick.
Feminine laughter drew her attention, as a few women from town passed by. She smiled easily at the group, and was glad for their cheerful return of her greeting. One good thing about being in Hardwyck was she had made friends. In the few days that she had been deeply consumed with keeping the castle afloat, she was glad to have befriended Lady Anne, who’d graciously offered some help.
She had sat with Lady Anne the last three nights in her solar working on tapestries and talking about all sorts of issues. She had found the companionship to be a blessing and very much enjoyed the time spent with the lady.
It was refreshing to have a woman her age and unbeknownst to Lady Anne, of similar social stature with whom to talk. The conversations they held differed greatly from that of the staff within the house.
If Lady Anne suspected that Chloe was more than she appeared, she did not say so. Every once in awhile Chloe caught Lady Anne staring at her, studying her with the most quizzical look on her face. However, when Chloe inquired if there was something on her mind, Lady Anne always declined to answer. Lady Anne would drop little tid-bits about Alexander. His interests, his dislikes, how similar some of them were to Chloe’s own. She found it all to be quite odd, but thought perhaps it was simply because she was the chatelaine and she should know that Alexander liked to take swims in the stream on a beautiful day and that he abhorred mutton pie.
In the few days that she’d been left to take over the household, Chloe oversaw the staff as they went about putting new sweet smelling herbs in the chambers to keep the rooms smelling fresh instead of stale.
Chloe remembered the sweet smell of her castle in Scotland. Almost every day she had flowers brought in to her room. In the winter dried flowers adorned bowls, so she could still smell their sweet perfume. She suggested this to Harold, who had loved the idea and Chloe had already set about working with the staff to put a plan into action. Hopefully the overly masculine lord of the keep wouldn’t mind the new fresh scents.
She entered the great hall as the staff hurried about clearing the room of the mi
d-day meal. Chloe looked about her nervously for any sign of Alexander. The same questions plagued her mind that had been for the last three days.
What was going on?
What did he think of her?
Was he going to ask her to leave?
Would he insist that she share his bed, now that he had a taste of her?
Luckily, he wasn’t in the great hall. Chloe sighed in relief and resisted the urge to hug herself when she shivered.
She didn’t know what to do. She had nowhere to go. She knew no one. She had become friends with Lady Anne, but they had not become that close. She couldn’t share her deepest secret with her, yet. But she was desperate. If they sewed together again tonight, she might present her with the letter to her family, depending on Lady Anne’s countenance.
“Mistress, Cook’d like a word with ye,” one of the scullions said, pulling Chloe from her reverie. She nodded and headed out the back door toward the kitchens.
Leaving the village alone with no protection, no coin, and no where to go was out of the question. She was in a foreign country with no relations or contacts.
Could she make it back to Scotland on her own?
I could tell him who I am. No, I couldn’t! He would lock me in the tower for sure. But then again, perhaps he would take mercy on me.
Marry me.
We did share a fiery moment, almost made love in the forest.
But she knew such fanciful thoughts weren’t an option. That would only be asking for a quick death. Whatever her parents had done to anger him so fiercely, the fact that she had run, and the fact that she had been upholding this charade all along, were enough to condemn her. They would all lead to him opening and closing the tower doors, with her left inside.
Chloe prayed that he wasn’t going to tell her that her welcome with them had worn out because she’d refused him. Where was he?
Where were her parents?
Shaking her head, she scowled. She couldn’t think of them now. She needed to bide her time. Ruminating on her family would only bring tears of worry to her eyes, memories of her maid and fear of her stance. She couldn’t risk anyone noticing a difference in her countenance. She squared her shoulders and forced herself to toughen up. Soon. Soon she would get word to her clan and they would come for her.
“You wished to see me?” Chloe asked the cook, breathing in the scrumptious smells of roasting meat. Her stomach grumbled in reaction, for she’d missed her meal. Yet somehow the thought of actually consuming anything sent her belly reeling.
“Aye, miss. The menu for tonight called for pheasant, but we haven’t enough. How is quail and pheasant?”
“That would be fine. Thank you, Cook.” Chloe turned to leave, heading back toward the keep.
She’d gotten lucky here at Hardwyck. The staff was very efficient and made her duties much easier leaving her more time to ruminate.
How she wished she could show her parents she’d survived, at least thus far.
Would she ever find out what happened to her family? The night she’d seen the warriors outside her window was ingrained in her mind. She couldn’t forget the look of Alexander, as he had raised his sword and pointed it at her.
You are mine.
She heard the words over and over again in her head and shivered.
If Jon had lived, would he have rescued her? He wouldn’t have let her maid take her off alone to the crofter’s hut. And for all she knew now, her maid was buried in a ditch.
My poor Jon. He’d been such a strong vibrant man, taken at the prime of his life. Damn the French and English and their wars!
A tear threatened to spill out of the corner of her eye. She quickly swiped it away, not wanting the servants she pretended to observe as she passed them to notice her distress. They must suspect she held secrets, but she didn’t want to bring anymore attention to herself than she already had.
This last fiasco with Alexander had been the berries on the tart. Everyone suspected something, but she thought they more than likely suspected she’d disgraced herself with James, and that was why Alexander had been so disgusted with her, and why James and his mother had suffered.
If they only knew that it was their master who disgraced me, and I wanted him to.
A quiver went up her spine as she remembered his hot wet kisses, the tremors that his hands had evoked when he touched her body, when his tongue…She shook her head and visibly frowned. She was thoroughly disgusted with herself for her thoughts, her behavior and her reaction to him. She had acted so wanton. Like some common harlot who was used to kissing and touching any man. Her reaction had felt so natural, and her instincts had totally taken over. The fact that she seemed to know what to do even though she had never been in the arms of a lover made her feel all the more ashamed.
I play this role of a commoner very well. No lady would act this way.
“Shh!” The harsh whisper came from beyond a corner wall of the castle.
Curious, Chloe crept up to the adjacent wall, out of sight, to listen.
“Rebecca, you are naughty!” a female servant said.
“Oh, and his lordship knows it! I frigged him good I did. His cock is—”
Peels of laughter sounded from the other servant. Chloe covered her mouth with her hands. She could only imagine what sort of hand gestures the women were making. Her face burned with embarrassment, but she couldn’t make herself leave. The vagrant! The dirty no good worm infested, son of a goat! He slept with all the servants, she was nothing special!
“No need to explain why ye visit his bed so often!”
“Oh, aye, nearly every night, sometimes in the wee hours of the mornin’ too!”
Chloe bit her cheek, seething with anger.
“He’s all mine, too. Promised me the world. Only thing is…” she trailed off.
“What, come on now, ye can’t leave me hangin’ like that.”
“Well the two timin’ bastard called out that bitch’s name!”
Chloe’s eyes popped open. He hadn’t said anyone else’s name with her. Even with her anger at being sorely used, she felt compelled to smile slightly at that bit of knowledge.
“What bitch, Becca?”
There was a long pause.
“That little slut, Chloe,” Rebecca said with such venom in her voice, Chloe shivered and hurried back to the hall.
Chloe scurried up the dirty road through the village to the keep. Even after several weeks it still felt odd to her that she lived there. In her blood it was the right place to be, but for all her appearances and charade, she was out of place.
The crisp air smelled of the recent rain, which had washed away a lot of the grime and stench from the village streets. The winter so far had been pretty mild, what would the coming months bring?
Would Alexander make it back before the winter storms prevented it? She hoped he stayed away for when he returned she was sure he would ask her to leave. Yet, at the same time she wanted to see him. The memories she had of their one passionate embrace still burned in her mind. Her body still reacted to the thought of him. The part of her that was ashamed didn’t want him to return, and the part of her that let the memories linger wanted him back so desperately she felt like she would melt right into the ground from the heat of her thoughts.
It was becoming harder and harder for her to deny the evidence to herself. Her feelings for the man were strong. She was not ready to admit what they were.
With a shiver of vivid recollection, she pushed her indecent thoughts out of her mind and focused on her walk back to the keep. How many people had she passed by without saying a word?
Almost two weeks had gone by without Alexander’s return. She’d heard through some whisperings from different staff that he had indeed gone to one of his holdings to the south. Others said he had gone to see King Henry. She didn’t dare inquire into his absence.
There had still been no news of any Fergussons and Chloe feared her letter would condemn her.
Maude had disapp
eared. No one had even seen her leave, but when Sir Edward had gone to make sure that she had vacated the house in the south bailey, it was empty. She heard from some of the knights as they ate the mid-day meal, that James wailed like a baby in the dungeon for his mother.
She felt awful that she had been the cause of all the trouble. If she hadn’t come here, they would still be living their lives, however unpleasant they were. If she had only brought the satchel with her in the first place, then she wouldn’t have gone back to look for it. A part of her soothed her thoughts by saying that if James were indeed set on what he’d wanted, whether she had gone to look for the satchel or gone out for a stroll, he would have tried to force himself on her. It all came back to two things, either she never should have come here, or she should have told the truth.
Since she had moved into the keep, life for Chloe had not been at all the same as her life in Scotland, but it had been pleasant. She had easily gotten her new duties in order and developed a trust with the staff. She no longer felt the need to hover over them to make sure they got their duties done. She had learned that many people had a fear of their master, and were not likely to ruin their livelihoods by displeasing him.
It had been easy for her to fill her newfound free time, although she did on occasion miss that she had no time for frivolities like she had at court. Baths were now rare, and there was no dancing, no music, or entertainment of any kind.
It was a man’s world. But not just any man’s world, it was Alexander’s world. A warrior’s world for a man who did not see the need for such dallying about. From what the staff whispered, he believed such entertainments to be a waste of time. The only kind of entertainment she could look forward to in the spring was a tournament, and that was if she was invited to go.
The keep and the village desperately needed a woman’s touch.
Lady Anne had no impact on Alexander whatsoever. She had stated so herself many times, that she had requested entertainment, and asked him to invite some noble guests to visit. All with the same response. He was in service to the king and his father. He had no time for such fripperies.
Daring Damsels Page 14
