His opaque dark eyes regarded her steadily. “You are determined to know what other maidens would prefer to ignore.”
“Yes.” It was a faint whisper and he gave a short barked laugh.
“Why, then, know you must. I suppose my best plan would be to have the fellow soundly flogged and dismiss him from my company. I’ll not have one I cannot trust in the service of Allestone.”
She nodded with a little sigh. She knew, well enough, that the punishment was severe. In this coming winter, masterless men could starve, but the fellow would have a chance. She thrust back the thought that he might well join the very company of mercenaries who had attacked Brinkhurst.
“I have to thank you again, my lord,” she said.
“Then let us turn to more pleasant matters. I hear your father is improving.”
“Oh, yes, he has regained consciousness and knows everything about the attack. Master ben Suleiman is pleased with his progress.”
“Excellent.”
She was aware of Sigurd stirring awkwardly behind her. “I have to thank you for allowing Sigurd to attend me,” she said, her voice, for the first time, expressing real warmth, “and for my little puppy, of course. How kind of you not only to make me a present of one but to remember just which one it was I took such a fancy to.”
His dark eyes lit up with sudden fire as his brooding gaze dwelt on her proudly held young form. “I could never have forgotten the sight of you with the puppy in your arms, demoiselle. Every detail was engraved on my memory.”
Dark colour suffused her cheeks again. She was never sure just how to take such remarks. She would not have taken him for a gallant, though he had served at the King’s court. Was he making fun of her?
He said abruptly, “May I ask just where you are bound?”
“To the stables. I wished to know if my palfrey is there.”
“Certainly she is. I gave orders that she was to be brought here. I felt sure you would want to ensure that she was being well cared for. You were not intending to ride out?” His gaze took in her mantle and hood.
“Yes,” she replied evenly. “I wish to ride to Arcote and pay my condolences in person to Sir Kenrick’s mother, Lady Eadgyth.”
“Do you think that is wise?”
She was startled by the sharpness of the question and turned wide blue eyes upon him.
“Of course. Sir Kenrick was our nearest neighbour and friend. It is only right that I should do so.”
“Would it not be better for you to leave this for some days?”
“No, I want to go at once. Sir Kenrick died defending me and…”
“Then I will ride with you. You cannot go alone.”
She was instantly alarmed. The very last thing she wanted was for this man to accompany her on what she knew would prove a very delicate mission. Her true relationship with Kenrick was as yet unknown to all but herself and the dead man, but Lord Alain must not be allowed to guess at the nature of it.
“No, no,” she protested. “You rose early on my business. I cannot put more upon you. It is but a short ride and Sigurd can run at my saddle bow. He has done so before, often.”
“Sigurd has given his word not to leave the castle,” the Baron replied smoothly, his dark eyes set on the boy who was regarding him doubtfully. “Come, Demoiselle Gisela, if you are determined to go to Arcote, you must accept my escort.”
She was forced to give way with good grace and waited docilely while her palfrey was led out, then submitted to being lifted into the saddle by Lord Alain. He commanded four of his men to accompany them.
They were both silent throughout the short ride. Apparently Lord Alain had no more to say to her and Gisela was too wrapped in her own gloomy thoughts as they approached Arcote to try and distract him by light conversation.
On their arrival at the door of Arcote Manor, Lord Alain dismounted and hastened to assist her down.
“I am not known to the Lady Eadgyth so it would not be seemly for me to intrude upon her grief at this time. I will wait for you here in the bailey.”
She nodded thankfully and hastened up the steps and passed into the hall itself. Instantly she halted as she saw that the bier holding Kenrick’s body held pride of place in the centre. Four candlesticks stood, one at each corner, and an elderly priest knelt in prayer beside the shrouded form of Arcote’s lord. Kenrick’s reeve came soft-footed to Gisela’s side and bowed low.
“Greetings, Demoiselle Gisela. I trust your father is improved.”
She glanced nervously from the body of the man who should have been her betrothed back to the elderly man at her side.
“He is, thank you, Osric. How is Lady Eadgyth? This must have been a terrible blow to her. Will you tell her I am here?”
“She has been distraught, demoiselle, naturally. She had no intimation that Sir Kenrick had been near Brinkhurst at the time of the attack. She has kept strictly to her chamber. An apothecary from Oakham was summoned and he prescribed poppy juice, which has quietened her first hysteria.”
Gisela’s lips trembled. “I am so deeply sorry that he should have come to this attempting to help us.”
Osric bowed again and withdrew to the ladies’ bower to acquaint his mistress with the news of Gisela’s arrival.
Gisela hesitantly approached the bier and knelt by the priest’s side. Kenrick’s face was uncovered and appeared serene. Indeed, one would have thought he was sleeping, she thought, as a lump rose in her throat and threatened to choke her. She managed to recite the prayers for the dead with the priest and rose finally as Osric re-entered the hall.
He crossed to her side; as he lifted his head to face her, she saw his expression was grave and embarrassed.
“Demoiselle, my mistress thanks you for your presence and your condolences and bids me inform you she is much too ill and grief-stricken to receive visitors. She knows you will understand.” He hesitated. “She also requires me to tell you that—that Sir Kenrick’s burial will take place tomorrow within the village church and—in the presence of his family and members of his household—only.”
It was clear he found his message distasteful as Gisela gave a little hurt gasp. She lifted her chin slightly.
“I see. I understand, Osric. How terribly Lady Eadgyth must be suffering. My father and I wish her to be aware of the high regard we had for Sir Kenrick. We shall hold our own prayers for him. Will you convey to her that—that I will respect her wishes.”
She turned hastily before he could be aware of the depths of her distress and sense of outrage. Kenrick had been their dearest friend at Brinkhurst. Since her father could not be present at his obsequies, it was only right and proper that Gisela should attend. Lady Eadgyth was showing her displeasure for the past attentions her son had shown Gisela.
Now, more than ever, the secret of their planned marriage, even their plans for elopement should all else have failed, must be kept by her alone. She turned once more to the bier with its softly murmuring attendant, then quietly left the hall.
Outside she was close to tears when Lord Alain came to her.
“She—blames me for his death,” she said shakily. “She will not receive me and—and she has more or less forbidden me to attend his funeral.”
He nodded gravely. “I thought that might be the case. I have heard much about the temperament of the Lady Eadgyth and feared she would treat you harshly. Though it is no fault of yours that Sir Kenrick was killed, undoubtedly she believes that had he not been attempting to save you he would still be alive and with her now. She is obviously beside herself. You must forgive her.”
“Yes. Yes, I know.”
She turned towards her palfrey and was about to be assisted into the saddle when another visitor rode into the courtyard, attended by two men-at-arms.
He dismounted quickly and came towards the two, bowing almost obsequiously to acknowledge Lord Alain’s rank.
“My lord de Treville. I presume you, too, have come on the same melancholy mission as I have done. I hea
rd at Offen how Sir Kenrick had died and decided to offer my condolences to his grieving mother.”
His bold eyes raked over Gisela’s slim form as she turned hastily to face him.
He was a big man, heavily muscled, who would run to fat in the future probably, but at present his height and arrogant bearing and striking good looks would prove attractive to many women, Gisela thought. He pushed back his mailed coif to reveal a mop of dark curly hair and his bearded lips parted in a broad smile as he gazed insolently at her.
“I do not think I am acquainted with your companion, my lord.”
Lord Alain’s greeting was as curt as the other’s had been effusive.
“This is the Demoiselle Gisela of Brinkhurst. She and her father are my guests following the unfortunate attack on her manor, in which business Sir Kenrick met his death, Sir Mauger. It seems the news reached you quickly at Offen.”
Gisela recoiled almost visibly as if the man had struck her a blow and only Lord Alain’s gentle, restraining hand upon her wrist prevented her from making some angry response. This, then, this flamboyantly swaggering man was Mauger de Cotaine of Offen whom all in the shire credited with the sheltering of the men who constantly raided their property. How dared he call so impudently to condole with Lady Eadgyth!
She looked from him to Lord Alain as if she expected her escort to make some accusation. He did not do so, though his manner to the other was decidedly cool.
Sir Mauger appeared to take no offence. He continued to smile and bowed exaggeratedly low to Gisela.
“I am sorry to hear of your misfortune, demoiselle. I suppose you, too, have been to see Lady Eadgyth, an unfortunate business. I take it your father is indisposed following the incident or he would be with you now.”
Gisela felt the bile rising in her throat and could not answer him but Lord Alain did so for her.
“Yes, Sir Walter was injured. However, he is progressing well and will be soon seeking some reprisal for this unprecedented attack from the shire reeve at Oakham.”
“Ah, then he knows who was responsible?”
Gisela drew a hard breath but again the grip on her wrist counselled her to silence.
“Unfortunately, no. I, myself, was present shortly after the attack and saw some of the looters. They wore no distinguishing device, but one would not expect them to do so. Those who fell in the attack died and so were unable to give us information about their protector. The men are being harboured somewhere in the vicinity and it should not be too difficult to apprehend them soon.”
The other man continued to smile broadly, slapping one mailed glove he had removed on his other hand. “One would believe so, my lord, but since these raids continue to go on unchecked, it will not prove an easy task.”
“No,” Lord Alain replied evenly. “There is talk, of course, suspicions, but unfortunately no proof against anyone—as yet. Lady Eadgyth is distraught, I understand, and you may find she is unable to receive you. Excuse us. We must return to Allestone. You will understand, with many of the household of Brinkhurst quartered at my castle, I have much to do.”
Sir Mauger nodded and bowed again to Gisela. She was deeply afraid he would offer to touch her hand and she thrust her free hand behind her hastily. She could hardly bring herself to look at the man. His bold dark eyes passed over her almost as if she were unclothed and she was not so naïve as not to realise that his first thought upon seeing her with Lord Alain had been that she was his mistress. Her flesh crawled and she was grateful for Lord Alain’s presence and his skilled handling of the situation.
As the man bowed again and moved off, followed by his men, she allowed Lord Alain to lift her into the saddle and found she was trembling violently. He stood back a little and regarded her intently. She swallowed and tilted her chin deliberately. He nodded in acknowledgement of her rigid control over her own violent revulsion against this encounter, then he mounted and signalled to his own escort to mount up and they rode out.
She was still shaking when he lifted her down in the bailey at Allestone. As he moved to lead her into the keep she burst out angrily, “Why did you not accuse him?”
“Mauger of Offen?”
“Yes, of course, Mauger of Offen.”
“Of the attack on your manor?”
“You must know he is sheltering those men who did it.”
He shook his head. “Unfortunately, I do not know that. There is no proof. I had hoped to find one prisoner alive. Had that been the case we could have questioned him, put on some pressure, but that was not to be.”
“Everyone believes that…”
“What most people in the shire believe is not evidence. Had the shire reeve been sure of his ground he would have summoned Mauger to face charges long ago.”
“They are all afraid of him,” she burst out.
He turned her to face him, looking intently into her eyes.
“That may be the truth but, nevertheless, until Mauger of Offen is found to either be in possession of looted property or have routiers living under his protection, it is difficult to see what can be done. The King himself could not act without direct proof.”
She thrust off his grasp on her arm and marched defiantly up the keep steps.
He stood for a moment watching her, his eyes troubled, then he turned towards the stables, deciding it best not to follow her in her present mood.
Later he went to see his guest and was relieved to see Sir Walter much better. The Jewish physician confirmed his belief that all seemed to be well, then gathered up his chest of medicaments and left host and guest together, having indicated outside the small chamber that Sir Walter had wished to speak with Lord Alain the moment he returned to the castle.
“The head wound is not as serious as I first feared,” he explained, “but he does seem restless and it is imperative he speak with you now as he has requested.”
Lord Alain had thanked ben Suleiman and now came to stand beside Sir Walter’s bed.
“How can I serve you, Sir Walter?”
“I hear you escorted my daughter to Arcote.”
“Yes.” Lord Alain hesitated and then quickly told Sir Walter what had occurred at the manor house and of the later encounter with Mauger of Offen.
The older man frowned and sat staring into space for a while.
“I thought at one time Kenrick of Arcote would ask for Gisela’s hand,” he said at last. “Such an alliance would not have been suitable. That harridan of a mother would never have accepted Gisela with good grace and—” he smiled bleakly “—as I have said before, Gisela is not one to accept the rule of another, especially that of another woman, however senior in age.”
Lord Alain gave an answering smile.
“I do not think, either, that Gisela would ever have been contented with young Kenrick. He had an easy, pleasant manner and I’m sure he would have striven to please her, though he would not have wished to quarrel with his mother either. That was ever young Kenrick’s problem. He was too ready to please everyone and anxious to avoid giving offence to others. In time, that attitude would have irritated Gisela. She would have come to despise him, finally.” He moved restlessly. “I fear you are thinking me too ready to speak less than admirably of the dead.”
“No,” Lord Alain conceded. “You knew Kenrick of Arcote far better than I.”
Sir Walter turned abruptly to stare into those dark, opaque eyes. “I’ll come straight to the point. Are you still willing to wed my daughter, my lord?”
There was no fraction of hesitation before the answer came. “Certainly, Sir Walter, I wish to wed the Demoiselle Gisela—as soon as possible.”
“Aye, the way things are, I would have her under your protection.” His lips parted in a little regretful sigh. “I warn you, my lord, Gisela will not accept my decision easily and I hesitate to press her while she is distressed by recent events and yet—” he pressed irritatedly at the fur coverlet “—I must. Will you have a clerk come so we might discuss the marriage contract immediately?�
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Lord Alain nodded. “I will send for Father John in the village. He is learned in such matters.”
“Aye, I have always found him honest and sensible.”
Lord Alain paused in the doorway. “Do not fret yourself, Sir Walter. Whatever you consider fair I will accept and—do not be anxious about the Demoiselle Gisela. While I intend to see that she is kept safe here at Allestone, and rule her with a firm hand despite her desire to go her own way, I shall not expect too much of her—at first.”
Sir Walter gave that same bleak smile again and waved his acceptance as Lord Alain withdrew from the chamber.
In the afternoon Gisela’s father sent for her. She hastened after Huon who had come with the message, fearing his condition had worsened, but she found Sir Walter sitting well up on his pillows, drinking some of Lord Alain’s finest burgundy, and apparently much improved.
She sat down upon a stool placed near the bed. “You look better. Does your wound pain you?”
“Aye, a little, when I move. The sawbones tells me that is to be expected, but let that be, child. Lord Alain tells me you were refused entry to Lady Eadgyth’s bower.”
She bowed her head, avoiding his gaze. “I’m afraid—she thinks I am responsible for Kenrick’s death. She made it plain she did not wish me to attend the funeral tomorrow, but I intend to disobey her and go.”
“You will not.”
Her lips parted at the angry note in his voice and she looked up at him, startled.
“But, Father…”
“You will stay right away from Arcote.”
“But he was our dearest friend…”
“We are not kin. If Lady Eadgyth does not wish it, for you to attend in direct contradiction to such an avowed wish would cause grave offence. I know you were fond of Kenrick, but unpalatable as the truth is, Gisela, he is dead to you. You must grieve in silence. You cannot add to Lady Eadgyth’s distress by causing gossip in the shire and that is what you would do if you flagrantly attend in contravention of a request to refrain from doing so.”
The Baron's Bride Page 9
