Читать книгу: «The Bride's Portion»
The Bride’s Portion
Susan Paul
www.millsandboon.co.uk
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Dedicated with love and thanks to Margot Anne Hoyt. A lot of years have passed since we were eleven, Margot, but during all of them you’ve been a constant source of encouragement and faith. I wouldn’t be writing today if it weren’t for you. I’m so glad that out of all the people in this world, I’m the one who’s able to call you my best friend.
Chapter One
England, early Fall—1405
The chamber was both cold and dark, save for one greasy candle that sat glowing on a small table, putting more smoke than light into the damp air.
“They might at least have lit the fireplace,” Lillis said, rubbing her arms in a vain effort to warm herself. “Those wretched boys! Putting us in this filthy room as though we were criminals. I suppose they thought we might escape from someplace clean.”
She paced the dark room, careful not to stub her toe on one of the many pieces of furniture there. It must have been a bedchamber once, for there was a large fireplace on one side of the room and a locked balcony and windows on the other. Now it appeared to be used as a storing place for unused furniture. Some of the pieces were covered to keep the dust off and some were left as they were. When Lillis and her maid had first been shoved inside, they had been horrified at the number of rats that ran to their hiding places and at the thick dust that pervaded the room. But they were grateful at least to have chairs to sit in and a table to rest their hands on. There was even an old, lumpy bed on which they could sleep if they needed to, though the rats had done a good job of removing a great many of the mattress feathers.
How many hours had they been locked in here, now? she wondered, rubbing her hands harder to keep from shivering. It had been early morn when those horrid twins had so suddenly leapt out of the woods at them, aiming readied crossbows at the heads of her two guards. Her first reaction had been to scold them as thoughtless rascals who should be greatly punished for playing such frightening tricks on innocent travelers, but when she’d seen that they were serious about what they were doing, the anger had died on her lips. She had been a little afraid of them then, for they certainly must have been demented to have done such a thing in earnest.
By the time they had dragged Lillis and her companion to the castle they were now imprisoned in, however, she had reverted to her original conclusion. The wretched creatures were far from insane. Oh, no, they were worse than that. They saw themselves as righteous crusaders who had captured an enemy. When Lillis made the mistake of informing them that they were being perfectly foolish, that she was Lillis of Wellewyn and that Wellewyn had no fight with them or anyone else, they had simply become happier about what they’d done.
Rotten little beasts.
The worst part of this nightmare was that she didn’t even know where she was. It had been years since Lillis had been home, and she didn’t recognize either the area they had ridden through or the castle she’d been taken to. The twins had refused to tell her and hadn’t let her guards speak, so neither Lillis nor her companion had the slightest idea where they were, or how far away Wellewyn was.
And they’d not had a chance to see much of the castle to which they’d been brought, either. She and Edyth had barely dismounted before the twins had separated them from their guards and had dragged them through the castle and up several flights of stairs to an obviously unused portion of the household.
“You cannot mean to keep us in here!” she’d protested after they’d been shoved inside the filthy room. “I demand to see the lord of this castle!”
“Our brother isn’t home,” one of them stated with obvious satisfaction, “but you may be certain we’ll tell him you’re here as soon as he returns.”
They had gone, oblivious to her pounding on the door and the furious threats she’d shouted at them. Many hours had passed and no one had come, not even to bring them water. Edyth, fortunately, had come across a few old tallow candles and a flint box. The room had been dark to begin with, though a little light made its way through the boarded windows before the sky darkened and it began to rain. By now the room would have been black as pitch were it not for the dim light of the candle, and Lillis tried to be as grateful for that as she could. But they were very cold and very hungry and very frightened. As the hours crawled by she began to wonder if the fiends hadn’t forgotten all about them and gone on to their next amusement. Some months from now, when the lady of the castle needed extra chairs for company at Christmas, someone would come to this room and find two skeletons sitting companionably side by side around the table.
Lillis shuddered and tried to put that thought out of her mind. If someone didn’t come by daybreak she and Edyth would simply have to do something drastic. What, she didn’t know, but something. In the meantime she kept herself busy with thoughts of what she was going to say to the lord of this place when she finally got a chance to do so. Yes, indeed, she was going to enjoy giving him a few well thought out ideas she had concerning the respective futures of his two brothers.
She only hoped that, when the man returned from wherever he was, he would immediately put things to right. Surely he would! He was certain to be as horrified at what his brothers had done as she was, and he would be bound by duty to severely punish the beasts. She could almost feel sorry for the poor man, burdened with such troublesome pests. But that was his concern, not hers. What mattered to Lillis was getting out of this place and home to Wellewyn as quickly as possible.
Wellewyn! Lillis clasped and unclasped her hands with anxiety as she took another turn around the room. Her father would be sick with worry because she had not yet arrived. Already they were a day late in getting there, having been delayed by the bad weather, and now they would be even later. Father would be outraged when he learned of her treatment at the hands of a neighboring lord’s siblings. She wouldn’t be surprised if he did indeed go to King Henry and demand their heads.
“It must still be raining.” Edyth broke into Lillis’s thoughts with her soft, sad voice. She sat at the table, sniffling and pressing a tear-soaked handkerchief to her eyes.
Lillis looked at her companion with affection. Poor Edyth! What a terrible ordeal this had been for her. Lillis had spent the better part of the afternoon trying to comfort and reassure her weeping maid. The older woman had been with her for as long as Lillis could remember, and she well knew her to be a timid, easily frightened soul.
“Yes, I believe it must be,” Lillis agreed, still rubbing her arms. “It makes the room very damp, does it not?” She crossed the room and put her hands reassuringly on Edyth’s shoulders. “It will not be much longer, dear. Someone is sure to come and set us free.”
“Do you really think so?” Edyth asked hopefully.
“Why, of course,” Lillis assured her without much belief in her own words. “We haven’t really been here that long. It only seems so because we’ve not had a way to tell the time.” How long had they been there? she wondered.
“Did—did you see the way the people looked at us when we rode through the village?” Edyth asked in a quavering voice. They’d not yet spoken of what had happened to them that day, other than to comment on the unbelievable behavior of the two boys.
“Yes. It was most odd. It was as if they hated us, though God above knows there is no cause.” She paused, then continued thoughtfully, “If only we knew where we were. What kind of place is this that they allow their children to roam free and bring home stray prisoners to lock in filthy rooms?”
Edyth turned to look up at her mistress. “It is strange, is it not? And yet the castle seemed well kept. Everything was so clean and fine.”
Lillis nodded. “Yes, I saw that, too, though we hardly got a chance to notice much the way those two rushed us up here. But it would seem that the castle is well managed. I cannot, for the life of me, imagine why any kind of responsible people would allow something like this to happen. It is really quite...abnormal.”
She could feel Edyth’s shoulders stiffen beneath her hands. “Oh, Lillis! We never should have left the convent! We never should have gone traveling with only two men to guard us! What will happen to us now?”
Edyth broke into fresh wails and Lillis did what she could to calm her. She barely had time to quiet her companion before they heard footsteps approaching and saw a light shine beneath the door. Edyth’s crying ceased only because she was too frightened to make any sound, and Lillis struggled to keep her own fears under control. She tightened her grip encouragingly on Edyth’s shoulders and stood as tall and straight as she could.
“Courage, Edyth,” she admonished as a key rattled and the door’s lock turned. “Courage.”
A demon walked through the door to greet them, or so it seemed. It was a large, dark man, girded about in armor, his face hidden in the shadows, who made the first steps into the room. He dripped with wetness, and the light coming in behind him caused him to look more unearthly. Lillis, already trembling with abject fear, watched him enter the room with real terror. He looked like a specter, and after the day she’d already spent she wouldn’t have been surprised if he had announced that he was such.
Edyth wilted beneath her hands and Lillis shook her imperceptibly while the ghostly figure approached. She was thankful that it spoke first, since she had lost her own voice.
“Who are you, lady?”
Lillis trembled at the harshness of his words.
“Who are you, sir?” she asked shakily.
“I am the lord of this castle,” the ghost responded, his image now fading into that of a man.
“Oh” was all Lillis could say for a moment. So! This was the man she had been waiting for. What a frightening phantom he made! “Sir,” she said more steadily, “I am Lillis Ryon of Wellewyn, and this is my companion, Edyth Lielyn. I fear your brothers have made a serious mistake.”
For the first time she saw that others had entered the room behind him. The man alone came closer, becoming more and more human in the light of the candle.
“Your father is Jaward, Lord of Wellewyn?” he asked, looking at her intently.
At this closer distance Lillis could see the haggard expression on the man’s face, though she could not tell whether he was young or old.
“He is,” she said, and lifted her chin.
It was difficult to tell what his reaction to this was. He stared at her quietly, looking directly into her eyes, and Lillis returned his stare and wished she could think of something to say. This wasn’t how he was supposed to behave. He was supposed to be groveling at her feet and begging her forgiveness for the treatment she and Edyth had received in his home. He wasn’t supposed to be standing there and staring at her as though trying to decide what kind of animal she was.
Those who had also entered the room gathered behind him, their faces eerily illuminated by the glow of torchlight. Lillis was surprised to see a matronly woman among them.
“My lord—” Lillis began, then stopped abruptly when she noticed that the twins were there, standing to the side of their brother, their arms folded across their chests, smiling at her with smug satisfaction.
“You two!” Lillis snapped, pointing at them. “You wretched, miserable fiends!” She looked back to the lord of the castle, who had ceased his thoughtful staring and now looked at her with some amazement. “My lord,” Lillis spoke curtly, “these two misbegotten devils waylaid my companions and myself on the open road this morn and brought us to your castle by force. They have locked my maid and me in this filthy chamber all day and have not even had the human kindness to bring us food or water. I cannot begin to imagine what they’ve done with my two guards.”
“They’re all right,” one of the boys answered sourly. “Sir Alan has them under guard in the men’s quarters.”
“Then they’ve probably received better care than you have spared us,” Lillis informed him hotly. “Did you not think at all about the two women whom you’d locked up all day? Did you not consider that we might be cold and hungry in this miserable place?” She indicated the room with a sweep of one hand.
The twins made no reply, but the lord of the castle said quietly, “You speak truly, my lady. Your treatment at the hands of my brothers has been unforgivable. I promise you they shall be punished.”
“But...Alex!” one of the twins protested.
“Quiet!” the lord commanded, his steely voice bringing utter silence to the chamber. He returned his attention to Lillis and spoke more evenly. “I beg your pardon, my lady, as well as the pardon of your maid.” He nodded in Edyth’s direction. “I have only just returned to the castle, else you would have been released sooner. My aunt—” he indicated the plump figure behind him “—had no knowledge that you were here, and learned of it only now, just as I, and the rest of my castlefolk, did. Had she known, my lady, you would have been well cared for, and never subjected to such as this. I pray you will believe me.”
“We had wondered, my lord.”
He inclined his head. “That is understandable, but all will be made well, I vow. You shall be taken to a suitable chamber to spend the night and all of your needs will be tended to immediately. In the morn we will see what is to be done.”
“I thank you, my lord,” Lillis replied, “but that is not necessary. If you will return my guards and our horses, we will leave this place at once.”
He gazed at her unwaveringly.
“I am sorry,” he said, “you cannot leave tonight. But do not fear for your guards. I will make certain that their comfort, as well as yours, is provided for.”
“No,” Lillis returned firmly. “That will not suffice. We will leave tonight. Please have our mounts made ready and our belongings returned to us.”
The breath that came from him sounded like a sigh, and a weary one at that. “You cannot leave tonight, my lady,” he repeated. “The wind howls outside like the Fiend himself, and the rain pours in rivers. I would be less than human were I to send any lady into such weather, especially in the darkness.” His tone changed slightly, growing more persuasive. “Come, accept my hospitality and we will speak with one another in the morn.”
Lillis tried to control her voice, to force it to speak with an obedient calm. “My lord, I am grateful for your consideration, but pray do not concern yourself with our welfare. The weather will indeed be an inconvenience, but I promise you that we would far rather face it than spend a night enjoying your kind hospitality. We have enjoyed enough of it already this day.”
There was a gasp, followed by shrill words. “Alexander! Will you let her speak to you in such a manner? She is churlish and rude!”
“Silence, Aunt Leta,” he commanded quietly, and the room fell still again. So still that Lillis thought she could hear the frantic pounding of her heart.
“My lady of Wellewyn,” he spoke with unnerving softness, “let us have an understanding. I assure you that you will not leave here tonight.”
Lillis felt Edyth trembling violently beneath her hands, and she licked her dry lips.
“We will,” she insisted.
“You will not.”
Lillis understood him, could hear in the tone of his voice exactly what he meant. They were prisoners. She wanted to give way to the fear that struck her so fiercely, but she wouldn’t. She would not. Instead, she demanded, “What is your name, sir, and what place is this?”
He seemed surprised at her question, as though she should know where she was and to whom she spoke.
“This is Gyer, my lady, and I am Alexander Baldwin, the Lord of Gyer.”
He spoke the words with such meaning and expectancy that Lillis felt even more unsettled. He was watching her for some kind of reaction and seemed dissatisfied that she had none.
“You do not know of Gyer,” he stated.
“I have not been home for more than ten years, Alexander of Gyer, but I do have some small memory from my childhood of a place called Gyer. Is it not a neighboring fief to Wellewyn?”
He gave her no answer, but turned to address those behind him.
“They will stay in Mother’s chamber. Aunt Leta, send servants with food and drink. Tell them to give these ladies whatever they require.”
“Your mother’s chamber, Alexander? It isn’t right!”
“It will be as I say,” he answered curtly. “Go now. Willem and I will escort the ladies to their chamber.” He looked at the twins. “Wait for me below,” he said in a voice that made them leave the room at once.
Lillis and Edyth found themselves alone with Alexander of Gyer and the man named Willem.
“You will come with us,” the Lord of Gyer stated rather than asked.
Edyth shook her head and clutched Lillis’s hands. “Oh, no, my lady!” she sobbed. “They are going to hurt us! They are going to kill us!”
Lillis bent to put her arms around her companion’s trembling form. “Now, my dear, they’re going to do no such thing. They shall take us to a very nice chamber—” she sent an angry glare at the Lord of Gyer, who nodded “—and we shall eat until we are full and then we will rest.”
“I—I am very hungry,” Edyth whimpered, shuffling toward the open door.
The man named Willem carried a torch to light their way, but when they reached the first stair Edyth stumbled. Lillis moved to hold her up, then was surprised to find that the Lord of Gyer had also reached out a steadying hand.
“Let me,” he murmured, prepared to help the older woman down the stairs. But he had made a mistake. When Edyth realized, even in her weakened state, whose hand it was that grasped her arm, she shrank against her mistress in a state of full distress.
“Don’t touch her!” Lillis warned, stopping on the step and enclosing Edyth in a strong embrace. Her trembling maid fell against her and wept.
Alexander of Gyer stared at her.
“Are you a knight, Alexander of Gyer?” Lillis asked angrily.
His face registered shock. “Yes.”
“Then I hope you pray well to God tonight.”
He understood her meaning, she saw, but said not a word, only nodded and turned to lead the way down the stairs.
It took some time to reach their destination, Lillis having to help Edyth every step of the way, but finally they stopped in front of a door that opened to a beautiful chamber, as clean and orderly as their previous chamber had been filthy and disorderly. Lillis guided Edyth inside, relieved to see that a fire was already burning in the fireplace and that candles had been set out for illumination.
“Someone will come to see to your needs,” Alexander of Gyer said. Finally Lillis looked at him. He appeared different in the full light, bigger and more formidable. He was wet and obviously tired, and his heavy armor looked uncomfortable. He was younger than she had originally thought.
“We will speak in the morn, my lady. I will wish you a good eve until then.”
Making a slight bow, he turned and left, the man named Willem trailing behind him. The door closed with a thud, and Lillis heard the unmistakable sound of the lock being turned.
Chapter Two
“Here you are,” Willem said as he stuck his head through the door. “I should have known where you’d be when you didn’t appear for the morning meal.”
Alexander looked up from the table at which he sat and gave Willem a brief smile. “Come and keep me company.” He nodded at a chair across from him. “I fear I slept ill last night and rose earlier than usual. Cook fed me some bread and cheese in the kitchen.”
Frowning, Willem strolled across the room. “You do look tired, Alex. This matter with Wellewyn wears on you, and I imagine our...guests trouble you, as well. Have you decided what you’ll do with them?”
Alexander shook his head and lifted one hand to rub his tired eyes. Slept ill last night? In truth, he’d not slept at all. Coming home to find Lillis of Wellewyn a captive in his home had left him in shock, and he had lain awake, staring into the darkness and wondering what he should do with her. He had several choices, and not a one of them ideal.
He could send Jaward a missive, letting him know that his daughter was being kept at Gyer, and could word it in such a way that no obvious threat would be implied, or he could come right out and tell Jaward to meet his terms else his only child would suffer. The problem with the latter was that Jaward would probably realize Alexander didn’t possess the meanness to actually hurt a woman; the problem with the former was that Jaward would simply go to the king and petition his aid in having his daughter returned. Holding Lillis of Wellewyn certainly seemed like a good way of getting what he wanted from the old man, but Alexander wasn’t yet sure how to go about using her to his advantage.
“No,” he answered at last, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve not yet decided what I’m going to do. I’ve instructed Aunt Leta to bring the lady to me after she and her companion have breakfasted. I thought I would see what she knows about her father’s activities. Any information she can give us will be helpful. If she has any information that she’s willing to give.”
Willem was quiet for a moment, then said, “She’s very beautiful, is she not?”
A glance at his younger brother showed that Willem was carefully inspecting his knees, his face having turned red, and the sight made Alexander grin. Willem was one of the bravest men Alexander had ever known, especially in battle, yet for all that he was painfully shy of women. Merely mentioning that he found a lady to be beautiful made him blush.
“Yes, she is,” Alexander agreed. “Most beautiful. Not at all what I expected after seeing Jaward.”
Not at all what he’d expected, regardless of Jaward. Alexander had walked into that chamber last night and found himself faced with a woman unlike any he had ever before seen. She was certainly the tallest woman he had ever met with, and she had the blondest hair he’d ever seen, as well. She had looked like a shining angel in the glow of the candlelight. Even her brows were blond, causing her blue eyes to stand out quite noticeably. Alexander had been able to see the light blueness of them right through the dark. Her features were fine, with high cheekbones and a full mouth complementing her pale, white skin. He remembered her hands—strong hands, beautiful, with long, shapely fingers that looked as though they could mete out a great deal of pain—or pleasure.
“Have you decided upon a punishment for the twins, at least?” Willem pressed. “They’re already in the village crowing about their deed to any and all who will listen. Did you know that?”
Alexander gave a sigh, which sounded as tired as he felt. “I know, Willem. God alone knows how well I know. And no, I’ve not decided what I’ll do with them, either. Most of the castlefolk and, I suspect, most of my people, believe I should give them a hero’s reward for what they’ve done. If I punish them as they deserve I’ll have a hundred and more unhappy voices ringing in my ears.”
“And if you don’t punish them,” Willem returned, “you’ll have Hugh and Hugo spending all of their days waylaying travelers on the main road and bringing them back to Gyer as prisoners.”
“I know, I know,” Alexander repeated, lifting one palm in the air in a gesture of helplessness. “But what can I do? Nothing seems to stop them. No punishment, no amount of deprivation, no efforts to make them see the error of their ways. The truth, Willem—” Alexander met his brother’s eyes “—is that when Father spoiled those two, he did it for all eternity. Sometimes I wonder if we shouldn’t all of us accept that fact and simply try to live with it as best we can.”
“We could always foster them,” Willem suggested. “At least we’d be rid of them for a couple of years.”
Alexander made a smirk. “Willem,” he chided, “you know as well as I that the twins will never make knighthood. Fostering them with a master who could train them for that purpose would be utterly foolish. Aside from that, I doubt anyone would take them.”
“If you offered sufficient payment—”
“It wouldn’t matter,” Alexander cut him off. “I could probably offer every groat I possess and it wouldn’t be enough. God knows no one could ever pay me enough to take those two on if I didn’t already have to keep them out of familial responsibility. And,” he added morosely, “you know full well that Father forbade me from ever causing Hugh and Hugo to do what they didn’t wish, and although I deeply regret having made him that foolish promise, I must abide by it.”
The door to the chamber was flung open so suddenly that it caused both men to start. Lillis of Wellewyn, breathtakingly lovely in a dress of light blue silk that matched the color of her eyes, strode into the room as if she had every right to do so without first being invited. Aunt Leta came puffing in behind her, unable to keep up with the taller woman. Both men quickly rose to their feet.
Lillis of Wellewyn, chin held high, stopped in front of Willem and Alexander and opened her mouth to speak, then, with a look of bewilderment, shut it again. She looked from one man to the other, then back again, with a frown. Finally she settled her searching gaze on Alexander and stared at him for a long, assessing moment. He held very still as her blue eyes moved over him, from his face all the way down to his booted feet. When she looked into his face once more her expression was resolved.
“My lord—” she began curtly, but was interrupted.
“I have never known such ill-mannered behavior in all my life!” Aunt Leta exclaimed with indignation. “She would not follow or even wait for me! She went storming down the hallways and I barely had time to tell her which direction to take. One would think she’d been raised as a heathen rather than as a lady!”
Lillis of Wellewyn did not turn her gaze from Alexander’s, and he thought he saw a small, amused smile play on her lips. It vanished as soon as it came, unlike her defiant glare.
“Thank you, Aunt Leta,” Alexander said dismissively.
Aunt Leta stamped her foot in displeasure, and Alexander glanced at her.
“Thank you, Aunt Leta,” he repeated. His aunt angrily pursed her lips and left.
Not hearing a request from Willem to be excused, as he expected, Alexander looked and saw, with amusement, that his brother was gaping in stunned silence at the beautiful lady before them.
“My lady, I trust you passed a pleasant night?” Alexander inquired, turning his eyes to her again. She truly was quite stunning, he thought, even when she was angered. “May I make my brother known to you? This is Sir Willem Baldwin. I regret we had no moment for such courtesies last eve.”
To his surprise, the lady lost her basilisk stare, turned to his brother, graced him with a pleasant smile, and said, “Oh, we did wonder who you were, sir, though we knew your name was Willem. I am pleased to meet you.”
Willem turned bright red. His mouth opened and closed several times but no sound came out. Finally, painfully, he managed to sputter, “I am...honored, my l-lady.”
“Thank you, Sir Willem,” she rejoined politely, then turned to Alexander again and promptly regained her angry glare.
“I believe we have some few matters to discuss, Alexander of Gyer,” she informed him, as though their meeting had been her idea and without a hint of the gentleness with which she’d just treated Willem.
“Yes, we do,” Alexander agreed, suppressing the odd, vague jealousy that tickled the edge of his thoughts. With a hand, he indicated the chair Willem had vacated. “Please sit, my lady. Willem, will you do me the favor of seeing to any matters that the tenants might need settled this morn?”
Willem was still staring at the lady Lillis, but Alexander’s words brought him back to life. “Of course—of course, Alex. Very glad to—to take care of that for you.” He bent a clumsy bow in Lillis of Wellewyn’s direction, then left the room at a near run.
Once his brother was gone, Alexander took a moment to gather his thoughts. He didn’t cherish the position he found himself in. How did one go about telling another person that she was his prisoner?
“I hope you found your chamber comfortable, my lady?”
“Very,” she replied coldly.
“And how is your maid this morn? Edyth is her name, I believe?”
“She is fine, thank you. Frightened and unsettled, but otherwise well.”
Alexander nodded. So, now he was reduced to frightening frail, elderly women out of their wits. The foreign feeling disgusted him, and he wondered how he was going to be able to carry out any of this. He’d understood Lillis of Wellewyn only too well when she had asked whether he was a knight. He had taken a knightly vow to serve God, to defend his country, and to protect and cherish the fairer sex. He certainly was failing in the latter! And yet, he thought, keeping Gyer out of war was worth breaking every vow he had ever made.
“I’m sorry for that. I assure you that my intention is not to frighten or upset either your maid or yourself. Please believe that you will both be treated with respect and consideration while you are here.”
“How very kind you are, my lord,” she replied icily, “but as I told you last eve, we merely wish to take our leave of Gyer as soon as possible. We have enjoyed quite enough of your hospitality.”
Alexander chose his next words carefully. “Again, my lady, I am sorry. It will be necessary for you to remain at Gyer for the time being.”
He was prepared for a typically female reaction to this statement: crying, screaming, wailing. He was not prepared for Lillis of Wellewyn’s reaction. She regarded him coolly, very little emotion showing on her face.
“You appear to be a reasonable man, Alexander of Gyer,” she said, much of the chill gone from her tone. “I cannot be certain, of course, but I do not think you are either insane or inherently evil, so there must be good cause for what you are doing. I would appreciate it, my lord, if you will explain the matter to me.”
Alexander was almost as shocked by her calm response as he’d been by the lady’s looks. Any other female of his acquaintance would now be in a puddle of tears at his feet. But if Lillis of Wellewyn could behave calmly and reasonably, so much the better for all concerned.
“You said last night that you had not been home for many years. I think perhaps you may be unaware of your father’s recent activities. Is this so?”
“My father?” she repeated with surprise. “No, I do not know what his activities are. Even had I been living at home I might not know, for he has ever been private about the management of the estate. Has he—has he done something wrong?”
Alexander regarded her for a moment, then said, “About six months ago your father built a dam on the Eel River, cutting off the main water supply to Gyer. I do not know why he did it, only that he did and that he will not negotiate with me regarding it. As you can imagine, my people have suffered a great deal because of this. Most of their crops have been ruined and now they are wondering how they will survive the coming winter, how they will put bread on their table. I am a wealthy man, my lady—” he shrugged “—and will not hesitate to make certain that my vassals and villeins are cared for, but that will not solve the problem of next year’s crops, and of the years after that. One way or another, by truce or by war, the dam your father built must be torn down. The thought of war is not a happy one for me, but I can see no other course while your father remains so stubborn.”
She had grown still while he spoke. Her eyes had widened and now she stared at him in utter shock. “I had no idea,” she whispered. “I swear I did not.” Her expression pleaded with him to believe her, and he did. “It is no wonder that the people of Gyer received us so angrily yesterday,” she continued, as though speaking to herself. “They must have seen that our guards wore my father’s colors and realized we were from Wellewyn. After what my father has done, I cannot blame them. But why? Why would he do it?”
“I don’t know,” he answered. “I had hoped you might be able to tell me, or give me some clue, but I see that you are as much in the dark as I. Your father has proved immeasurably stubborn in the matter. I’ve tried everything I know of, from offering money to making threats, but he’ll not be swayed. Yesterday I rode to Wellewyn to make him a final offer and he practically threw me out of that rotting pigsty he dares to name castle.”
She frowned at him, and Alexander belatedly realized what he’d said, how basely he’d insulted her home. “Forgive me, my lady. That was mean spirited of me.”
“I understand, Alexander of Gyer. You are very upset and have every right to be. What my father has done is unforgivable.” Still frowning, she looked away from him.
Alexander gazed at the penitently bowed head of his captive and knew an unbidden desire to comfort her. She seemed genuinely unhappy about what her father had done; it would have been cruel for him to turn his anger with Jaward upon that man’s innocent daughter.
“You are not to blame for this, Lillis of Wellewyn. I believe you had no knowledge of your father’s deeds.”
She gazed at him fully, causing his heart to know a strange agitation. “I did not know,” she promised, “but now that I do, I vow I shall do all I can to have the dam torn down. Have you not petitioned the king regarding it?”
He shook his head. “That is the beauty of your father’s scheme. It is perfectly legal, the dam having been built on his land, or rather, on your land. If I ride into Wellewyn to tear it down, I am the one who will attract the king’s wrath—for trespassing on another man’s property.”
She seemed confused. “Why do you call it my land? No part of Wellewyn is mine.”
“But it shall be, my lady, when you wed next month. Your father took particular delight in informing me that, even if he wished to do so, he could not sell the land on which the dam is built because it is part of your bride’s portion. The only man who will have power over that land will be your future husband, the Lord of Dunsted.”
“Then I shall have the dam torn down when I am wed,” she declared, though somewhat uneasily. She seemed to become more embarrassed with each new revelation, and Alexander wondered if she had ever been aware that she had a claim to the lands of Wellewyn.
“That would be ideal,” Alexander admitted, “however, your father made it clear that he’d had the choice of the man you shall wed, and that he and Jason de Burgh have an excellent understanding between them. You do know that Dunsted is directly to the south of Gyer, do you not?”
Again she looked surprised. “No, I did not, though when my father wrote to tell me of my marriage, he said I should live close to Wellewyn. That is one of the reasons I agreed to it. Are you not...friendly with my future husband?”
A bitter laugh escaped him. “Not the least bit friendly, though God knows I have tried time and again to come to terms with the man. There is a strip of land bordering Gyer and Dunsted that the people of both fiefs have disputed the ownership of for many years. The land belongs to Gyer, but Jason de Burgh and his are so stubborn over the matter that they refuse to give way. They insist on making pests of themselves by visiting raids on Gyer, while my people retaliate in kind, regardless of my efforts to stop them. I’ve tried to meet with de Burgh in an effort to come to some kind of settlement, but he persistently refuses to see me.” He drew in a taut breath, then released it. “I think your father has somehow convinced him that a war with Gyer would be profitable for them both, though God only knows what a madness that is.” Alexander rubbed his eyes again and felt weary.
“But this is dreadful,” she whispered, her lovely face gone pale.
“Yes, it is,” Alexander agreed. “With Wellewyn to the north and Dunsted to the south, I shall have quite a noose around my neck, shall I not? The worst part of the scheme is that I am the one who will be forced to declare war. I am the one who will be seen as the aggressor, who will have to face the wrath of the king. Your father could not have plotted a more perfect plan to bring me to ruin.”
Lillis of Wellewyn looked wretchedly miserable. “I hardly know what to say to you, my Lord Gyer. I am so very sorry for what my father has done.”
“You have no need to apologize, my lady,” Alexander assured her. “I have already said that you are not to blame.”
“Still,” she persisted, “it is my father who is the source of your troubles, and I want you to know how deeply ashamed I am.”
“You do not find it hard to believe that your father would do such a thing, though, do you?” he asked, considering her.
“Do not misunderstand, Alexander of Gyer. I love my father. He is all I have ever had and has always shown me great love and kindness. Yet I must admit,” she said almost guiltily, “I have thought that he might be hard-hearted toward others.”
Alexander almost snorted at such a gentle term being used for a devil like Jaward, but since the unhappy lady before him was the man’s daughter, he kept silent.
“I understand, my lord, why you wish to keep me here, and I agree that war must be avoided at every cost, but I beg you to release my companions and myself. I swear to you that I will speak with both my father and my betrothed. I will make certain that the dam is torn down, even if I must tear it down with my own hands.”
“No,” he said softly. “I do not believe that either your father or Jason de Burgh will be stopped simply because you ask it of them.”
She stood suddenly, and her hands fell to determined fists clenched at her sides. “But I give you my vow that I will have the dam destroyed! I will swear to honor this vow by all that is holy, by God himself. All I ask is that you trust me. You will not have reason to be sorry.”
Alexander stood, as well, more out of a desire to be polite than anything else. He was struck again by her tallness; really, her height was a pleasant change from towering over other women.
“I believe you would do your best to carry out what you say, my lady, but I do not believe you would be successful. I have spent the past six months doing all in my power to persuade your father to tear down the dam only to have him laugh in my face. Yesterday he assured me that naught would change his mind.”
“But he would listen to me!” she insisted. “I do not know why he has done what he has, but I do know that he has never denied me anything I have asked of him. I am his only child, and he loves me.”
Alexander raised his eyebrows. “He loves you so much that he kept you from your home for more than ten years?”
Her expression became so suddenly stunned and pained that Alexander wished, powerfully, that he’d never spoken the careless words. She looked at him as if he’d slapped her.
“My lady—” he began in his sincerest, most apologetic tone.
“He did not send me away,” she informed him shakily. “I was living at the convent in Tynedale and being taught how to read and write and work figures. He came to visit me several times, and he wrote to me constantly!”
Worse and worse, he thought. She sounded as if she were trying to convince herself more than him.
“My lady,” he tried again, but she didn’t seem to want his apology.
“I tell you he will listen to me!”
“He might,” Alexander said, “but he might not. Indeed, it’s most likely that he will not. You’ve already admitted that your father has never confided in you regarding the management of Wellewyn. If this is so, then there is little reason to believe he will suddenly listen to any request you might make regarding land that he’s never seen fit to explain will one day be yours. You claim that he loves you, but what kind of man loves his child and sends her from his presence for ten years? Did he never once want you home, even for Christmastide?”
She flushed deeply. “That is no concern of yours, Alexander of Gyer! And it has naught to do with the matter at hand. I have given you my vow that I will see the dam torn down. My sacred, solemn vow. Will you or will you not let my companions and myself go free?”
“I have told you that I will not,” Alexander replied, “and I have told you why.”
She drew in a deep breath, pressed her lips together tightly and sat down with a thump. Alexander sat again, as well, wondering rather uncomfortably if he was now going to be treated to the screaming and wailing he had expected earlier.
“Will you at least let me write my father and ask him to fulfill your demands? He will be more inclined to comply if I do the writing.”
Well, so much for screaming and wailing, he thought, picking up his ink quill in a careless gesture.
“I’ve not yet decided whether I’m going to write to your father. I shall have to consider what is best to be done.”
She sat forward in her chair. “But you must write him! My father’s not been well, and he’s been expecting me these past two days already. He’ll be terribly worried by now. You must at least let him know that I’m all right.”
Alexander felt an unexpected surge of anger. “You will have to forgive me, my lady, if I don’t care whether your father worries or not. He’s given my people and myself no reason to love him.”
His sudden anger caused her to sit back again, as though she wished to be as far away from him as possible, and he regretted having spoken so harshly.
“Forgive me,” he apologized quietly, thinking that it was more than the third time he’d done so that morn. “I fear I am rather worn from dealing with your father of late. I have a great many vassals who have labored hard to save their crops, to no avail. The thought of having to tell them to prepare for war against both Wellewyn and Dunsted in the face of all they’ve already suffered sickens me.”
She made no reply, and Alexander looked up and saw that her eyes were wide upon him, filled with a sympathy he’d never have expected from the daughter of his enemy.
“I understand what a terrible situation you’re in, Alexander of Gyer,” she said, “but what good will it do you to hold us here? If you don’t let us go, there will most certainly be a war. My father will call on Jason de Burgh and you will have his men, however few they may be compared to your own, swarming around you, demanding our release.”
“I know,” Alexander admitted soberly. “That is why I must think carefully on what is to be done. I harbor no falsehoods about which side will win should a war erupt. Neither your father’s nor your betrothed’s men could possibly stand against the strength of my own army. Still, I have no desire to kill any man without need. But these are not matters to concern yourself with, my lady. I shall do my best to keep anyone from coming to harm.” He offered her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “Now that you are aware of why you are being held I will try to come to some kind of decision as soon as I can. Until then, please believe that you and your maid and guards will be treated as guests in my home, save you’ll not be allowed the freedom of the castle without escort or be allowed to go outside the castle itself. Have you any requests to make of me regarding your comfort?”
She contemplated Alexander in silence, long enough for him to feel uncomfortable beneath her steady gaze, long enough for him to understand something about the pride behind the eyes that held his own so determinedly. “My maid and I will take all of our meals in our room,” she answered at last, breaking the silence and bringing him relief. “As prisoners in your home, we would not feel comfortable partaking food with your family. We will wish to attend chapel in the mornings. I assume you have a chapel at Gyer?”
Her mocking tone made him smile in wry amusement. He was one of the wealthiest men in England, as she must have very well surmised from the size and richness of Castle Gyer. Of course there was a chapel, which she must know very well, too. “Yes, indeed, my lady,” he answered with a hint of matching sarcasm. “It is just outside the inner bailey. I shall be happy to escort you and your Edyth there for the morning mass.”
“You are kind, sir,” she said without expression. “Our things were brought to us this morn and we now have our needlework to keep us occupied. However, the chamber we are in does not receive enough light during the day to make the work easy, and so we will require a place that is well lit in which to pass the day.”
That was easily enough remedied. “The women of the household do their needlework in a certain corner of the great hall that receives full sunlight during most of the day,” he said, “and that is near a fireplace for warmth. I’m sure that both my aunt and my betrothed will be glad to have your company there.”
“Your betrothed?”
“The Lady Barbara Baldwin,” he replied, noting her look of surprise. “You’ve not had a chance to meet the rest of my family yet. My betrothed is my cousin, distantly related, and lives under my protection. Both she and her brother reside at Gyer.”
Lillis of Wellewyn seemed to struggle for a moment, then finally said with forced politeness, “Becoming acquainted with the rest of your family, my lord, is a pleasure that I fear I do not crave. Your brother, Willem, seems meet enough, but your aunt and twin brothers—”
“Yes, I know,” he interrupted in an angry tone. “My younger brothers are wild, untamed fiends, as you know firsthand. Our mother died seven years ago when they were but eight years of age, and they’ve been out of hand ever since. Even before then they were my father’s favorites, and spoiled beyond enduring. After my mother’s death he kept them close to himself and gave them free rein. No one was allowed to reprimand them, and he certainly never did. He coddled them into just the sort of creatures whom you met yesterday, and since his death I’ve not had much luck in taming them.”
“Then you are much to be pitied, my Lord Gyer.”
Something about the tone of her voice made Alexander defensive. “I have tried to discipline them, my lady.”
“I’m sure you have, my lord. Now, about my guards—”
He raised a hand to stop her. “I saw to them this morn. They have been moved to suitable quarters and are being kept under watch. I’ve made it clear that they’re to be allowed as much freedom as possible with supervision. Their meals will be the same as those that you are given, so that you will know they are well fed.”
She seemed satisfied with this and rose to leave. “That is well, then. I should like to return to the chamber you’ve given us, my lord, and inform my maid of our situation. We will devote the remainder of the morn praying for a resolution to the problem at hand, as it is now far too late to attend mass.”
She sounded just like the nuns she’d once lived with, Alexander thought as he rose to escort her. “You must not worry, Lady Lillis, over your care while you remain at Gyer.” He spoke the words without thought, as simple courtesy. “I swear by God’s holy name that you and your companions shall be treated as though you were members of my own family.”
She seemed to find his words quite amusing, for she smiled, then laughed, and looked and sounded so beautiful doing so that it nearly stole Alexander’s breath away.
“My lord,” she said, “I do hope you’ll not take my words amiss, but I promise you that my companions and I would far rather be counted your prisoners than ever be considered members of the family Baldwin.”
Бесплатный фрагмент закончился.
