Candle in the Window: Castles #1

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Candle in the Window: Castles #1 Page 38

by Christina Dodd


  “Of course.” Raymond slapped his shoulder, holding it with an understanding grip. “Of course, I’ll see to it.”

  “And for the sake of my soul, see that someone gets that idiot Bronnie out of the dungeon.” He swung on Raymond. “I’ve sworn to care for the boy as if he were my kin.” Before Raymond could question his droll resignation, he added, “That reminds me, is my father well?”

  “He’s fine,” Raymond assured him.

  “Are you well?”

  “I can’t complain.”

  They reached the great hall, and William turned to see a broad smile on Raymond’s face. “Then why didn’t you command the attack? Why didn’t my father?”

  “Come. Let me show you.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  Raymond took his arm and led him to the strange knight who stood talking to Lord Peter. Lord Peter saw them approaching and he smiled the same satisfied smile that Raymond wore. Touching the stranger’s shoulder, he directed his attention to William. The stranger immediately stepped forward to meet them, his stride broad, his manner vigorous.

  Watching him, William was struck by the majesty that tempered the air of friendliness. He glanced at Raymond and saw awe, glanced at his father and saw approval. “Duke Henry,” he guessed, but it wasn’t really a guess. “Nay, it’s Prince Henry, now.”

  “Quite right, Lord William.” Prince Henry grinned as he reached them, stopping William’s bow with a sweep of his arm. “Please, let’s save the formality for the court. I’m delighted to meet you. All I’ve heard since we left Burke is William this, William that. I’m pleased to see your stature is not a giant’s, as I’ve been led to believe.”

  “My father exaggerates, my lord.”

  Prince Henry bent a look of amused inquiry at his new subject. “Raymond sings your praises, too. Does he exaggerate, as well?”

  William grinned back with full-bodied enjoyment. “I hope not, Lord, for he sings your praises, also.”

  Slapping his hands on his ribs, Prince Henry leaned his head back and bellowed with laughter. William followed him, his own amusement combining with his prince’s to shake the rafters. Unable to restrain themselves, Lord Peter and Raymond laughed, also, as did the men who trickled in from the battle. Bula barked and circled them, herding them closer.

  At last, Prince Henry wiped his eyes. “We’ll deal well together, William. You’ll have to come to London when I’m in residence. Bring your wife.”

  “Saura!” William straightened at once. “God’s teeth, I must—”

  “There’s going to be a new order in England,” Prince Henry boomed, “and a place for honest men like you.”

  “Thank you, my lord. I look forward to that.” William bowed slightly. “Now, I must—”

  “A new order! Of course, I’m not the king of England yet, but with the succession secure at last, I’m making plans.” Prince Henry stepped up on the dais and clasped his hands behind his back.

  “I’d love to hear them, my lord—”

  “When, by God’s favor, the crown is firmly on my head and I hold the scepter in my hands, the first thing I’m going to do is expel those foreign mercenaries of Stephen’s.” Prince Henry paced across the dais. “He’s been paying them to quell rebellion, and all they’ve done is teach rebellion.”

  “That’s God’s truth,” Lord Peter agreed.

  “Law will return to the land. The courts set up by our forefathers have been made puppets of the robber barons. The barons, too, have forgotten that they owe their lands and castles to the king. The king grants the land in return for obedience and fealty. These barons who used this unsettled time to seize land and build castles have a surprise in store.”

  “Good tidings, my lord.” William nodded with hearty encouragement. “Now if I could—”

  Swept along on a tide of his own enthusiasm, Prince Henry said, “I’ll have those castles confiscated. Those barons seek only to prey on the unprotected populace. I ask you, how can the people of England produce flax and wool, raise corn and barley, without peace? How can my loyal nobles collect their portion of the proceeds without peace? How can my government run without the king’s portion of their revenues? This country is in such disorder, the local sheriffs no longer come to present their accounts at the Royal Exchequer.” Prince Henry poked his finger toward each one of them individually. “There are too few barons who retained only the lands due them through my grandfather’s grants. Noblemen like you, Lord Raymond, will be the king’s right hand. Barons like you, Lord Peter, and you, Lord William, will be the backbone of my kingdom.” Prince Henry puffed his chest with the pride, and announced, “A kingdom we have secured in every way possible. Have you heard that I’m the father of a son?”

  Delighted, William let this great news distract him. “A son? Prince Henry, congratulations. A son will secure your dynasty. Never again will such a dark time return to England. Long life to him!”

  “Long life, indeed.” Prince Henry grinned and hooked his thumbs in his belt. “His name is Guillaume, and Eleanor writes he’s a strong and healthy boy. She’s already designated him to be her heir, the future Count of Poitou.”

  “You do bring wonderful news, my lord,” William said. “But if you would excuse—”

  “Eleanor and I will have many sons. Many sons! Call for the wine, Raymond, and let’s drink to the health of my son.”

  The signs pointed to a long and cordial night, and William interrupted in desperation. “Prince Henry!”

  Prince Henry turned to William in surprise. “Aye?”

  “I’m honored by your trust, and I hope to discuss these blessed changes tonight at the evening meal. But my lord, I must go fetch my wife.”

  Prince Henry reared back, offended by the interjection of such a trival matter. “Where is she?”

  “I left her on the knoll overlooking the castle. Excuse me, Lord, I must go to her.” He bowed with no grace and began to retreat.

  “Your wife will forgive you for forgetting her. She observed the battle from her outpost, I’m sure,” Prince Henry said coldly.

  William stopped. “Nay, my lord. My wife is blind.”

  Prince Henry’s brows raised, and his attitude changed immediately. He dropped the facade of provoked king and became a curious man. “She must be an extraordinary woman to have earned your devotion so thoroughly.”

  “So she is,” William said.

  Prince Henry looked around. Lord Peter grinned proudly, as if they discussed his own daughter. Raymond smiled with infatuated delight, and William smirked like a man who’d found the key to paradise. With pleasure, Prince Henry said, “Then I must meet this wife of yours, William.”

  “Right away, my lord. I’ll have her spin you the tale of how she escaped the dungeon and routed the dragon.” He bowed again, whipped around and bounded away.

  “I’d take that wife of his away from him,” Prince Henry confided to the two men beside him, “but Eleanor would have my ears.”

  Saura no longer perched up on her rock. As the sounds of battle had died, she’d crept back into the hollow where William had placed her and huddled out of the wind.

  Someone had won; someone had been vanquished. The whole fight had taken only a few hours. Only now the fall sun had begun to cool and the breeze from the sea to freshen.

  She knew it would take William time to come for her.

  First he’d have to consult with the leader of his winning forces, then he’d have to decide what to do with the prisoners, then he’d have to liberate Bronnie. He’d have to stride from the keep in his fine, long steps and go to the stables. He’d commandeer a steed, ride to the knoll, walk up the path. She cocked her head, but he wasn’t here yet.

  Fine. She wouldn’t panic. She began again, imagining William discussing the battle with his men. She imagined him waiting for his father to ride up, and roaring at him for being late. She imagined him ordering dinner for her.

  She put her head down on her knees.

  He’d never ordered
dinner in his whole life; he wouldn’t know what to say. He was a useless male creature with no idea of the labor involved in making a household work, and she wanted him with ridiculous passion. She wanted him with her now.

  A footstep and then a rock rattled down the path behind her.

  “William!” She almost shouted it, almost leaped around, but belated caution froze her where she sat.

  How would she know this was William? Recognizing his footstep on the floor of the keep was not the same as hearing it on the pebbley surface of a path. William had instructed her to stay out of sight for her own safety, and she had ignored him. What if someone had seen her and decided to rape her? What if Nicholas had escaped and sought her as a hostage?

  Another shower of stones sounded closer, and her heart beat with mighty rhythm and her hands clenched her skirt. What should she do?

  Then right on the other side of her rock, William’s voice blasted, “Saura! Where are you?”

  Scrambling up, she called, “Here! Oh, William, I’m here.”

  “God’s teeth.” He vaulted onto the boulder and slid down into her arms. She trembled with worry and restrained hysteria, and he said hastily, “He’s dead.”

  “I know.”

  “And Cran Castle’s been captured.”

  “Are you hurt?”

  “A scratch.” He put her hand on his chest and she felt the drop of blood dried there.

  “I was so worried. What took you so long?”

  She was panicked, he judged. He took a breath, calming himself. She’d been through a terrible time, she’d been unable to see the events unfolding at her feet. Later he could express his concern for her; right now she deserved a patient understanding. Taking another breath, he snarled, “Why didn’t you wait where I put you?”

  “This is where you put me,” she insisted.

  “Nay,” he said, sure and terrible. “’Tis not. What have you been doing?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Saura.” His very tone was a warning.

  “I sat where I could hear,” she snapped defiantly, gripping his shirt in her fists. “Is that a sin?”

  His arms squeezed her, taking her breath away, and he was torn between hugging her and smacking her. “Aye. I put you down below the level of visibility for your own safety. Woman, can’t you follow directions just once in your life?” He started with a steady self-possession, but his voice rose until he was shouting.

  Take a breath, she counseled herself. He had a right to irritation, he’d been through a rough few days. He’d besieged one friend, fought and killed another, been faced with his own fears. Last but not least, he’d had to admit he was wrong. He deserved a gracious apology and assurance she’d done it only because she worried about him. Taking another breath, she blasted him with all her lung power. “Not when I’m troubled for a stubborn, beetle-headed malfeasor who frightens me every time he fights and yells at me when I’m independent and who,” her voice suddenly dropped to a whisper, “who makes me happy and whole.”

  He had to lean down to hear her, but her words deflated his indignation. “Do you love me, then?”

  “Too much.”

  “Too much?” he questioned tenderly, his worry and distress melting under her whispered confession. “Like a good wife should love her husband?”

  “Not like that, better than that.” She never knew she could be so embarrassed, so afraid to speak the truth. Still, she owed it to him; she owed him everything. She raised her head so he could see her face, could know with all his senses that she spoke the truth. “I’ve loved you for so long.” She held up her hand for silence. “You were right, though, I didn’t trust you. How could I? It seemed as if all the needs were on my side and all the providing was on yours. If you didn’t need me in any way, what would happen if you tired of me someday?”

  Clasping her in his arms, he slid down the rock and settled her onto his lap. “Well, first of all, I could never leave you. Your mind is quick and clever, your conversation delightful. You have the kind of beauty that grows with maturity, blossoms with age. You’re a noble lady, a chatelaine. Intelligence, beauty, domestic skills. A man would be a fool to tire of such a woman.” She opened her mouth to contradict him, and he put his big hand over her lips and said swiftly, “I agree, men are fools. That’s why I insisted on marriage, Saura, even when you fought against it. I wanted you to feel secure.”

  “What security is there in marriage? Men beat their wives for intelligence, for beauty.” She considered. “Not for being a good chatelaine, though. I’m trying to tell you a good marriage depends on mutual needs.”

  “I need you!” He reared back in astonishment.

  “Why?”

  “Why? You silly woman.”

  He sounded resigned, and she agreed. “I know, but I couldn’t see that the old needs had been replaced, not reduced. It used to be easy. You used to need me. When you were blind, you needed me so much. That’s when I first loved you.” Her smile wrapped itself in mystery as she remembered. “That golden voice, that blaring rage.”

  “Don’t forget my kisses,” he teased.

  “Nay, I could never forget them.” She patted the side of his face. “Did you realize my first reaction when you recovered your sight?”

  “Tell me,” he coaxed.

  She sighed and blushed. “This will tarnish your image of me.”

  “Nay.” He recalled her as she sat on Arthur’s palliasse on the bright spring morning he’d first seen her with his restored eyes. He remembered how the pain on her face had broken her serene brow, and now he assured her, “I don’t think you’ll be tarnished by a very human reaction.”

  “You already know,” she accused.

  “If I could read your mind, love,” he put his lips close to her ear and murmured, “we wouldn’t spend so much time shouting at each other.”

  She laughed with reluctant amusement and realized the lump in her throat had diminished. “That morning, that awful morning after that glorious night, when I realized you could see, I wanted to scream with rage. I felt I’d been cheated, dreadful bitch I am.”

  “Tsk.”

  He clicked his tongue in mock amazement, and she turned on him. “But ’tis true. I wasn’t needed anymore. I was useless.”

  “I’ve made a mistake with you, dearling.” His lips brushed her forehead.

  Bewildered by his lack of reaction and his comment, she queried, “Why?”

  “When I recovered my vision and realized how terrible a life you’d had with your stepfather, I wanted to take care of you, never let you struggle again. Instead,” his amusement deepened, “I should have tossed obstacles in your path.”

  “Not my path. Our path. There seemed to be nothing you needed my help with.”

  “You run my household and care for the children. What else do you want to do? Go into battle beside me?”

  She pretended to consider that, and he cuffed her playfully. “Forget I asked.”

  “A single instance, William.” Serious deliberation wiped her face clear of amusement. “I wanted you to believe me when I said ’twasn’t Charles.”

  “I suspected I’d hear about this.” He groaned.

  “I’m not nagging about past mistakes,” she insisted. “I’m trying to tell you where you hurt me, why it seemed I was of less importance to you than…than Bula. I have a talent. ’Tis not a great thing, but ’tis useful and never fails me. I can hear the truth in voices. You knew the value of it when you were blind, but when you regained your sight you lost some of your sense. You didn’t believe me when I tried to tell you you were wrong, because I’m blind and because I’m a woman. And because you believe women aren’t logical.”

  “Ah, Saura, you wound me with my own stupidity.” He took her hands and laid them on his chest, and she laid her head there too.

  His heart throbbed; she could almost feel his pain. “That was the biggest thing, I suppose. It hurt to be so wholly ignored. I’m no fool. You married an heiress, but you’re
so rich you don’t need my money. You could do without it.”

  “Money can never be dismissed lightly.”

  “You told me yourself money wasn’t the reason you married me,” she explained with meticulous patience.

  “God’s teeth. You’re throwing my own words back at me,” he protested, his legs moving restlessly beneath her.

  “Aye, and you could always find another woman. You’re so big and strong and beautiful.”

  “Only you think that,” he assured her.

  “Oh, at our wedding I heard the way the women simpered when you came near. I don’t need a block to fall on me.” She made a moue of disgust. “Those women made it clear you don’t need me in bed, any one of them would have gladly been a substitute.” She knew she shouldn’t care what anyone else thought, but she did.

  William cared what someone else thought; he cared what she thought, and his chest swelled with indignation. “Do you think I’d use one of them as a substitute?”

  “Nay!” Her throat hurt from the talking. Her chest hurt from the tears that wanted to escape. “Nay, that’s not it at all. ’Tis just that, if I died tomorrow, you’d live through it.”

  “Well.” He shifted and she felt him reach up and comb his beard. “Aye, I would. I wouldn’t be happy for a long time, and I’d never find a woman who fits me as you do. Still, I’d live and prosper, teach my son, help my father. But tell me something. If I had been killed down there, did you plan to throw yourself off these rocks?”

  She froze. “Ah…nay.”

  “Did you plan to immure yourself in a nunnery and never seek the world again?”

  “I hadn’t considered.”

  “Would you live if I died today?”

  She didn’t want to think about life without William, but she forced herself. If he died, would she go back to being that sheltered, mild woman she’d been before? Or would she still shout when she was angry and dance to a bramble and laugh out loud at a joke? Would she still insist on the freedom to walk where the sun could warm her face? She trembled from the pain of the truths she told, but she kept on with valiant insistence. “I would. I could stand on my feet without you.”

 

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