She’d only managed to escape outside because her maid had taken the eye of one of the men guarding her room. But even with her maid’s help, she wouldn’t have been able to slip away if Bayard hadn’t already left for the King’s Court.
Immediately upon delivering Alice to Ralph de Gant, Bayard had been sent away. Not that he cared. He’d got what he’d wanted from Ralph and was eager to see which of the sought-after roles the King would give him. Whichever one, it would mean a life of power and privilege, and he was keen to begin it. While Alice was thankful to see the back of him, she now had a new enemy in Ralph, whose character seemed little improved on Bayard’s.
So she grasped the rare opportunity and ran swiftly through the long grass toward the trees, which marked the edge of the woods through which the road south ran. It would be this road along which William would come.
How she knew he’d come, she could not have said. She’d dreamed of it, for sure. But then she’d dreamed of many things which hadn’t come to pass. Truth was, she knew him. She knew how he’d react, and that he would come after her. She knew this like she knew that rain would fall from dull leaden clouds and that from the earth, green shoots would rise, without fail after the frosts had passed. William was like the land and skies around her—unfailing and dependable.
She didn’t have to wait long. She felt the thudding in the soil before she heard it. She stepped into the middle of the path. Despite her predicament, her blood raced at the thought of seeing William again.
He and his squire came around the long corner, and she saw in the set of his shoulders the instant he recognized her. He slowed his horse and leaped to his feet. He reached out to her briefly before dropping his arms to his sides.
“Alice! Are you hurt? Why do you stand here?”
“To see you, of course.”
He shook his head. “You knew.” A smile flickered on his lips. She could see he was pleased, believing no doubt that she trusted him to come. But trust had nothing to do with it. She trusted no one, not anymore. She simply knew him.
She nodded. “I knew you’d come. And I had to stop you.”
His travel-begrimed face creased into a frown. “Stop? You know nothing would stop me from getting to you.” This time he did not prevent his hands gripping her shoulders. “You are safe now.”
She wanted to be. Oh, how much she wanted to feel safe, with William. But she knew that such a feeling would be temporary only and that it would result in danger for them all, and ultimately unhappiness. He mistook her silence for agreement. She glanced at the castle. They’d be looking for her by now.
“Tell me what has happened.”
“Sir Bayard brought me to this detestable place two days ago. He and Ralph de Gant have come to an arrangement, so it seems. I am given to de Gant, and, in return, Sir Bayard receives riches and favor at court, where he is now.”
“It will not happen.” He spoke each word with emphasis. “Come. Come away with me now. We need not go to the castle if you desire.” He glanced up at it with a black look. “Although I would like to go and deal with Ralph de Gant personally.”
She laid her hand upon his chest, her fingers smoothing over the sturdy wool of his cloak. “No! You must not. He is a ruthless man.”
“And so am I, if anyone tries to hurt you.”
“He will not hurt me. I am too valuable. Now, anyway.” She couldn’t help thinking of the time when her only brother had been alive, and her value had been less, and Bayard had hurt her.
William’s eyebrows beetled together. “What do you mean?”
She shook her head. She’d vowed never to tell William even a part of what had happened over the years between her innocence and now. “It is of no import. What is of import is that you must leave. You cannot enter the castle. I’ve heard Bayard and Ralph speak. They are closely allied with Gilbert de Montmorency’s son and have pledged to help him avenge Sir Gilbert’s death.”
“Rufus killed him after he’d killed our mother. Gilbert de Montmorency deserved everything that was coming to him. ”
“I don’t doubt it. His son is cut from the same cloth and is demanding support from his allies.” She couldn’t prevent a shiver from tracking down her spine. She looked into William’s eyes. “They want your blood. You must not come to the castle.”
“He will not have my blood, Alice. I can look after myself.”
She glanced at his only companion. “You are but two. They are many. You must leave, William.” Her throat clenched with fear and emotion. “William, please, you must do this… for me.”
“For you?” It was the only thing she’d said that he’d listened to. She pressed her advantage.
“Yes. You are outnumbered there. What can we do if you are captured?” She pressed her finger against his lips before he could begin to remonstrate. “We would both be imprisoned. We would be worse off than before.”
“I will leave on one condition. That you come with me now.”
When she opened her mouth, she didn’t know what was going to emerge. Would it be a word, one word, that would rise on the wave of her feelings, feelings that she didn’t ever dare acknowledge? Or would it be another word, an opposite word, arrived at by careful consideration of what had happened to her, and what she knew of this beloved man, and what he wanted? She knew her urge to agree to his condition was on the tip of her tongue. And, equally, she knew she must not allow her heart to rule her head.
Her head shook first, and then she felt the strength of the second word emerge. “No. I cannot.”
“Cannot? Why? Do you need to collect your things?”
She shook her head. “I have nothing I value here.”
“Then, why?”
“Because there is no time to prepare. I gained a few minutes to come here to warn you, but they will come looking for me soon. And they will find us. I cannot come with you now, William, because they have the advantage, not us.”
He was silent as he considered her words and then nodded. “You speak truly, although I would risk it if you were prepared to.”
“You risk too much.” She glanced behind her, anxious that she’d been followed, before turning back to him. “You risk yourself, and that I cannot agree to.”
Suddenly she heard the wrenching up of the drawbridge, and she knew that her absence had been noted. She pulled her hands from his large ones which, although strong, allowed her fingers to slip through. She gave a brief smile at the difference between William and the other men who’d forced themselves into her life.
“They are coming for me. And when they find me, they must not find you, for it is Ralph’s desire to see you dead.”
“How can I let you return to that castle, Alice? You will be entirely at their mercy.”
“I will be at their mercy if you come, William. For you will be dead and of no help to me, or your sisters.” The truth was, she had no thought for herself or William’s sisters. For if he was dead, so would she be, in her heart.
The thudding of the horse’s hooves grew louder. “Go.” She held her breath. He took one step back, and she released it. “Go,” she repeated. “If you feel anything for me, please go. I will be safe.” He took another step and turned and spoke briefly to his squire, and within seconds they were both lost from sight in the thick forest. No trace survived of them on the hard, frosty ground.
She turned to face the small posse of horses which was coming to find her. As they came around the bend into sight, they slowed at the sight of her. To her relief, they didn’t look beyond her, or into the woods. Even if they did, she knew William and his squire wouldn’t be seen. They were too clever for that. Despite that, she had to fight an urge to look to where she’d last seen William. To retain a small piece of their recent contact, which would get her through the forthcoming meeting. For she’d lied to William. She knew she wouldn’t be safe. But if that was the price for securing his future, so be it.
William and his squire led the two horses away from the road but stop
ped while Alice was still in sight. He’d retreated because she’d spoken sense. He’d heard the number of horses approaching, and he’d known he hadn’t stood a chance if they were really against him, as Alice had said.
When he’d first thought to rescue Alice, he’d had no notion that he wouldn’t succeed. He’d reasoned that Bayard would see sense in allowing her to come with him. After all, Bayard was Alice’s kin, so surely he’d want her to be happy? What he hadn’t factored into the equation was Bayard’s greed, which had seen him depart for King John’s court immediately, leaving Alice alone and unprotected, at the mercy of a man who, it appeared, wanted his blood.
No, Ralph would see him dead before allowing him to walk into the castle and take Alice away.
What he needed was something Savari would find easy. What he needed was a plan.
“There’s a traveler staying the night. A stranger.” Alice’s maid momentarily stopped brushing her hair. “He’s handsome.”
Alice thought she meant William—the only man who she considered to be handsome. “What does he look like?”
“Straight, fair hair and the face of an angel.”
The small light of hope which had bubbled up inside of Alice burst abruptly. Even people who loved William would never have described him as having the face of an angel. She sighed.
“He has a lute. He wants everyone to come and listen. Will you come, my lady? He especially asked about you. And, besides, it will ensure the men keep away. They cannot abide the minstrels. They’ll never know you’ve left your chamber.”
Alice hadn’t intended to. But anything to ensure distance between herself and Ralph de Gant. “Aye. I’ll come.” Besides, she needed something to distract her thoughts from William. He’d gone. She’d sent him away. And there was nothing she could do about that.
Her maid helped Alice ready herself. Since the men had found her outside the castle walls, she’d been told to keep to her chambers. They seemed to accept the fact that she’d been picking rare herbs as a reason for her being outside the walls. It had been a stroke of luck that she’d been able to help one of the soldiers with a skin complaint with the herbs.
She slipped past the sleeping soldier, drunk from too much wine plied on him by the maid, and went toward the music she could hear, coming from the Hall. The fire was roaring, and people were dancing. The men had gathered upstairs in the solar no doubt discussing the finer points of dividing Alice’s inheritance between them.
“Come, my lady,” said her maid. “Think not of what awaits. For tonight enjoy the music and wine. Lying upstairs, worrying, will not make things better for the morning.”
Within moments she was seated in the shadows at the back of the room, and wine and food was being pressed on her. She was grateful for the help of these people who served the de Gants. They’d born witness to her indignity, and she’d helped some of them within the last few days to ease their ailments. She’d found loyalty in their hearts for her, where none existed for their cruel overlord.
As the dancers moved, she saw who it was playing the harp. Her mouth went dry. It was Warin, William’s man. She gave a jump of surprise and spilled some wine. Then she sat back and gripped the cup, thankful that no one could see the flush that rose in her cheeks as her mind raced.
He hadn’t left. William hadn’t left. Instead, he’d sent his man to entertain and distract the others. Why?
Another song struck up, and Warin began to wander around the Hall, singing to people. He stopped beside her, sang a song, and bowed deeply. When he was finished, he leaned forward while the others stopped dancing and caught their breath.
“My lady, my lord will be waiting at the postern gate for you after the lights in the chambers are extinguished.”
“But how?”
Warin smiled. “It seems you have already made friends here.” He glanced at her maid, who smiled back. There was a sound outside, as men spilled down from the chamber overhead. Business had obviously been completed. Thankfully no one looked over to her. She was a pawn, but an invisible one to them all.
She nodded to Warin. “I’ll be there as soon as I can after Sir Ralph has retired for the night.”
“As soon as you can, my lady.” He glanced at the men. “Every moment my lord waits is dangerous to him. And to you.” He bowed and was soon lost amid people eager for more songs.
Alice looked around, assessing the danger before seating herself once more. It was best not to draw attention to herself. She’d remain in the shadows, unnoticed as yet by the men, and she’d watch them. She looked at Ralph de Gant, whose narrow eyes glittered under the billowing torchlight in the drafty castle. She’d follow his every movement and slip away as soon as she could.
Every moment is dangerous to him. Warin’s words repeated in her mind. Then she had an idea. She beckoned over her maid and whispered her plan. Her maid nodded and slipped away, unnoticed up to Alice’s bedchamber. When she re-emerged wearing Alice’s demure, plain robes, Alice’s heart quickened. From a distance, her maid looked exactly like her.
By the time her maid was seated in Alice’s place, her face in the shadows, her gown concealing her maid’s more buxom figure, Alice was gone, running quietly through the kitchen and the passages which led to the outbuildings and then to the postern gate.
She paused at the end of the passage. Across the short width of courtyard lay the door. She waited until her eyes adjusted to the darkness. All was silent. Everyone was in the Hall listening to Warin’s music, as William intended. Was he there?
She wasn’t sure, but then she saw him. His dark cloak, a shade lighter than the dark stone wall behind him. He held out his hand into the light, and any doubt fled. She lifted her skirts and ran across the courtyard toward him and fell into his arms.
He put his arms around her and held her tight against him. She’d never been so physically close to him. The air was pushed from her lungs, and tears sprung to her eyes in relief.
“Oh, William, you came back.”
He held her shoulders between firm hands. “Aye. Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
She huffed a brief laugh. “Because I told you to go?” she ventured.
“I heed you when you speak truly, Alice.” His eyes ranged over her face, and he swept away a lock of her hair from her cheek. “But not then. I could not leave you at his mercy. I will take you far from here. And then it is up to you to decide what you wish to happen. I lay no claim to you.”
She nodded and pressed her cheek against his chest, and he held her there, clasped close. Then he pulled away.
“We cannot tarry. We must go now.”
She nodded and swept her cheeks with the flat of her hand. “Of course. I’m ready.”
“My horse is tethered not too far away.”
“And Warin?”
“He will follow.”
He took her hand, looked around, and quietly opened the postern gate. The reason for its lack of guard was immediately evident. Two men lay tied up, unnoticed, within the wall. She gasped.
“Come.”
She did not need telling twice and was about to step out and follow William into the darkness when lights flared all around them. They found themselves surrounded by a small cordon of men, at the center of which was Ralph de Gant.
“Going for a late-night stroll with my betrothed, Sir William?” Sir Ralph unsheathed his sword and stepped forward. “I think not.”
Chapter 4
Ralph’s men forced Alice and William back inside the castle, through a now deserted Hall and up to the solar.
“Take a seat, Sir William,” said Ralph.
“Nay. I’d rather stand.”
One of the guards tried to make Alice sit on a chair, wresting her arm behind her back, making her squeal with pain. She bit his arm, and the guard lifted his hand to strike her. William stepped between them and gripped the upraised hand and twisted it until the guard yelped with pain.
“You,” said William, his anger palpable, “will never touch
Lady Alice again.”
Ralph stepped forward. “Release him, Sir William.”
“I will not. He will strike the lady.”
“No, he won’t,” Ralph said steadily. “Do you wish to know why?” But Ralph did not await an answer. No doubt he knew what it would be. “Because I will make sure of it. No one will strike my betrothed.”
William considered his words, and then flicked away the guard, inflicting more pain as he released him. The guard fell to the floor, nursing his arm and cursing William.
Ralph looked behind him, and two guards moved forward and took hold of William and held him fast.
“No one that is,” said Ralph approaching Alice. “Except me.”
Before Alice or William could react, Ralph cast a stinging blow on Alice’s cheek. It made her head ring, and she could feel blood trickle from her lip. But she stood tall and stared at Ralph, allowing the hate to show in her usually impassive face.
William roared impotently beside her. He caught her eye above the others, and she tried to reassure him. They quieted each other and, despite the roar, he conveyed a sense of hope and reassurance simply by his presence.
“Leave her alone,” bellowed William.
Ralph tilted his head to one side. “Or what?” He approached William who was now held firmly by two of his men. Ralph threw up his hands in mock fright. “You’ll take me down? I hardly think you’re in a position to issue commands or threats.” He taunted William with his expression, before turning to his men who laughed along with him. “No,” he said slowly before turning his back on William and stepping toward Alice once more. He picked up a lock of her hair and pulled it between his fingers. Alice refused to utter any sound despite the pain. “She is mine to do with as I like.”
“She’s not yours.”
Ralph didn’t even bother to turn back to William. “Not yet. But she will be.”
He made an elaborate bow to Alice. “Come, Lady Alice, take a seat.”
She glanced at William, who nodded. Did he have a plan? Or did he simply want her to agree so as not to provoke Ralph again? She did not know but took her seat beside Ralph. Sharp regret stung her mouth. She should have gone with William when she had the chance. Instead, she’d brought him here where anything could happen to him, and probably would. She’d done this. She’d brought this on the man who meant most to her in the world. And she knew that if the chance arose, she’d have no qualms in joining him now. She had to find a way for them to escape. She owed it to William.
Honoring his Lady: A Medieval Romance (Norfolk Knights Book 5) Page 4