Becoming a Baroness
Making of a Saxon Bride: Prequel to Spoils of War
Matilda Martel
Matilda Martel
Copyright © 2018 by Matilda Martel
All rights reserved.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 1
The King was dead. They said he was too saintly to consummate his marriage and therefore left no heirs. His closest relative of royal blood was just a boy and no one trusted he could hold on to his throne, so the fighting began. Young Lynette heard from her older brother that the Vikings were returning to claim the throne. Edgar, her betrothed told her that the Earl of Wessex, their distant kin, had laid his claim and had been crowned at Westminster. But soon there were others. Shortly after the new King Harold defeated the Vikings, thousands more came from across the channel, and they were the worst ones of all. They were the Normans.
Both the Duke of Normandy and Harold claimed Edward promised them the throne. The Duke was a blood relative but he was an illegitimate heir, while the council of elders chose and crowned Harold Godwinson. None of that mattered. The Duke came with the Pope’s permission and he came ready to bring them to their knees. Edgar tried to convince her father to send her to his father’s castle, which was fortified and safer than their small estate, but she was not of age and he didn’t trust her fiancé’s eagerness to wed. In his defense, no one realized how bad it would be until the Norman armies stormed their lands and flattened them. Any resistance was met with complete annihilation, but even those that could not fight back, were still subjugated to their will.
Lynette, daughter of Alfric, was only 17 when the Normans first arrived. Living in Mercia, just north of Oxford, she saw the gray armies storm the Midlands and flatten any resistance they encountered. Fearing for her life, her betrothed, Edgar, a wealthy nobleman residing north of Warwick traveled south to bring them back to his father’s castle, but the Normans sealed them off and prevented him from reaching her family’s estate. Her father never resisted, but they seized their meager belongings nonetheless. When they reached his estate, they came so fast she was caught beyond the courtyard, trying to bring her mare into the safety.
Horses thundered past her as she rushed in towards the house, but it was too late. She was dragged into the barn by a group of soldiers, kicking and screaming as they struggled to tear off her dress. Thrashing about, she cried and pled for someone to help her, believing surely she would be defiled and killed. Glaring up in terror at their dirty faces and gray armor, Lynette lost hope that anyone would save her until she heard an angry French voice yelling at them to release the girl.
His voice was so deep and commanding, three of the soldiers stopped immediately and stood frozen with fear. The only one who would not listen to him was the man still trying to have his way with her. After the attacking soldier ignored another command, Lynette gasped at the sight of a huge sword swaying from one side, severing the man’s head clean off. As his twitching headless corpse threatened to fall on top of her, the executioner swiftly reached for his armor and tossed him to one side.
“Pardonne-moi, demoiselle.” Afraid she did not understand him, he switched to English. “Allow me to help you.” Lifting her up like a child into his powerful arms, he carried her towards the gates. She felt terrified and traumatized, but in those few short minutes, while she shivered in his careful embrace, Lynette felt safe. Dropping her off by the kitchen door, he bowed and apologized again.
With tears streaming down her face and as she fought to hold the shredded remnants of her dress together, she gazed up at the brutish Norman captain and nodded in appreciation. He stood stuck in place, fixated on her with perhaps the bluest eyes she had ever beheld. “I thank thee, Sir….merci, Monsieur.”
His face lit up hearing his own tongue and he unconsciously took a slow step forward. “Do you speak French?”
Backing away with timidity, she nodded, then shook her head. “Only a little. My mother served Queen Emma briefly…she was….” He cut her off.
“She was Norman.” He smiled and bowed again, backing away. “Please forgive my men, they will be reprimanded. Stay indoors milady, I cannot help what has to be done. We have orders. Are there men here to protect you…..what is your name?”
“Lynette and yes, my father is here.” She stared at him wide-eyed, fearing she had just placed her father in danger.
“That is a beautiful name. Please stay close to your father, Lynette.” He bowed again and rushed away into the chaos. She did not expect to ever see him again. She could not have been more wrong.
The south was subjugated quickly. There was so much fighting amongst families and petty tribal loyalty, they were no match for William’s soldiers. With Harold gone, Wessex fell fast, but Mercia put up a much harder fight. Lynette’s father’s estate, just north of Oxford was close to the resistance but since they were near one of William’s newly constructed castles, they had Norman eyes on them at all times. Edgar grew anxious for her safety and begged her father to allow them to marry early. Under cover of darkness, disguised as a farmer, he came from Warwick to beg for permission to marry earlier than planned.
Preparing for bed late in the evening, she heard tapping at her shutters. “Lynette…it’s me.” Edgar’s familiar voice was on the other side.
“Edgar! What are you doing? You can’t come in here, what if someone sees you?” She tried to stop him but his long legs scaled the sill and stepped into her room.
“I’m going to step out again to speak to your father. He has to let us marry, Lynette. What is a month? You’re so vulnerable here. I can care for you so much better in Warwick.”
“Edgar, why are you dressed that way? Did something happen?” She’d never seen him dressed in such attire. He looked like a stable hand.
“The Normans don’t care about peasants, but they might kill an earl’s son traveling without their permission. Lynette, they’re replacing us. My father could lose his title, his castle, we could lose our lands if we’re seen as the least bit uncooperative. His best knights have been turned into barons with lands and castles—some are dukes and earls. All these noblemen will want wives and you are beautiful.” He took her hand and kissed it. “If I can convince your father, will you marry me sooner?”
“It’s not just my age, Edgar. He’s afraid to send me north. He’s afraid if he’s seen cooperating with the rebels, we’ll lose everything. We don’t have as much as you do.” She gazed up at his green eyes, so full of hope and tried to give him some comfort. “But if you can convince him, of course I will.”
“My father is not rebelling, Lynette. He knows he’s dying; he has nothing left in him to fight. But if they find out Harold was our cousin, and that more of our kin is rebelling in Northumbria, then they might keep us apart. I can’t let that happen, I’ve waited so long to marry you.” He brushed a soft kiss across her forehead before pressing his lips against hers, seizing them with a wild intensity. She felt weak and confused as he forced her mouth open with his tongue and roused a passion in her that she’d never felt before. Shocked by her eagerness to respond to his touch, she moaned and attempted to push him away, but there was no strength in her protest, and he knew her well enough to know she could make him stop if she desired.
“Edgar, please.” Lynette summoned the will to finally save her honor.
“My beautiful g
irl, I love you. You know I love you, don’t you? You know I’ve always loved you?” His eyes glowed with affection as he held her in his arms and pressed his warm, hard body against her.
“I do and I love you, Edgar.”
“As your cousin, Lynette?” He cocked his head to one side and inspected her closely.
“Well, you are, but as more than that too.” She leaned her head on his muscular chest and listened to his racing heart.
“We are fourth cousins. But in truth, I have never thought of you that way.” As he reclaimed her lips with gentle kisses, her knees weakened.
“We are third cousins.” She questioned his calculation.
“We are fourth, our great- great grandfather was orphaned and raised by his grandparents--I had to explain everything to the bishop and promise to build them a church to purchase a papal dispensation.” He touched her nose with his finger and kissed her softly. “I need to marry you. I don’t want to leave here without you for fear I’ll never see you again.”
“For Christ’s love, don’t say such things. We’ll be married in six weeks. Everything has been planned and the priest promised to be here. The church has been abandoned since the Normans arrived. They’re building their own church with their own priests.” She hugged him tighter when an eerie premonition stirred something deep inside her. Walking him towards the window, she rushed to kiss him one last time.
“I don’t believe my father will change his mind. He will not want me to travel to Warwick during these times and I do not foresee him allowing me to leave alone with you on horseback.” She helped him down the ledge and they bid one another good night. “Come see me in the morning. You must stay the night.”
“I will, my love. I love you, Lynette.”
“I love you, Edgar.”
Despite his best arguments, Lynette’s father would not relent. He worried that they would be caught on their journey and she would be harmed or killed. He was concerned about making the trip himself when those areas were seen as friendly to rebelling noblemen and he didn’t share Edgar’s fear that she might be forced to marry a Norman. By morning, they were still arguing their points.
“Edgar, the Normans are bringing in French and Norman women to marry, they don’t want English brides.” Her father tried to calm Edgar but he had a very high opinion of his fiancée’s beauty and believed they would make an exception for her. She was flattered, but genuinely believed he was being silly.
“For one as fair as Lynette, they might.” His irritation with her father was evident but she offered a small solution.
“Edgar, will you stay? Father, may he stay until one of the priests returns and marries us? If anyone asks who he is, he is our cousin. That is not untrue. Are you able to stay here a while longer?” She asked Edgar, but glared at her father who was being unreasonable.
“I can and I will.” Although her father had never consented, he thanked him and agreed to stay until the priest returned. Her father was not happy but since Edgar would soon be his wealthiest relative, he found it necessary to relent.
Within days she realized it might have been a mistake to allow him to stay. In their week together, they grew closer and her heart, which had kept him at a safe distance, slowly let him in. Unfortunately, before the week was through and before any of the priests returned, a messenger came for Edgar. His father was dying and he was desperate to see him one last time. Needing to ride fast, he could not have taken her with him even if her father had given his consent.
“Lynette, we marry in 5 weeks, I’ll return before then, I promise. Nothing will keep me from you.” He held her, ignoring her father’s presence. “I love you.”
“I love you, Edgar. Please take care. The enemy is everywhere.” Hiding behind his horse and the watchful eye of her father, she kissed him one more time. “Godspeed, Edgar, I will see you soon.”
“Yes, you will and then we’ll never be apart.” As she watched him ride away, her heart swelled with affection and yet ached with sorrow. For the first time, she was anxious to marry him.
Chapter 2
“Malet, I want you to take your men and join de Verdun in this western region. There is talk of another uprising.” King William pointed at a crudely drawn map as he barked out his command, trying hard to avoid his friend’s angry glare.
“I’ve just come from quelling a rebellion in the east and you have yet to secure me what I was promised. In fact, you’ve remained strangely quiet on the subject when you know I’m going to bring it up.” Robert removed his sword and sat down, crossing his arms in defiance. “I’m sure the new King of England can keep a promise to a lowly baron like myself.”
“You have lands, a castle that is already built, unlike many others, and a title—is that still not enough?” William attempted to deflect his failures.
“You had Normandy and yet you wanted more and now you have the south and yet you want the north. How long have I done your killing? When you didn’t want to get your hands dirty, mine were soaked in blood and I have to live with all those sins. This is the bride I want.” He was interrupted as a page entered and handed them each a goblet of wine.
“Before I left you, you promised me she would be here when I returned. This makes twice now. Were you hoping I would be killed in battle?” Having known one another since they were children, he could tell when William was stalling. There was something he wasn’t telling him.
“Robert, she’s already betrothed. Her intended has just inherited his father’s title, an earldom in this area here.” He pointed at his map.
“He’s one of the only earls who is not rebelling in the region. If I take away his bride, who I am told he has been planning to marry since they were children and it appears to be a love match, then he will most likely join the rebellion.” He sat down, believing he’d somehow changed his friend’s mind, as if this was all new information.
“This means nothing to me, William. He can comply or he can lose his lands. You said I could have my choice and she is my choice. I would just as easily return to Normandy or serve the King of France. I’ve met her and she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever beheld—she is the one I want. If you want me to stay, I want what was promised to me.” Out of respect, he stopped himself from saying more. Twice now, he’d returned victorious only to have his prize denied—he would not be doing this again.
“Fine! But this is going to come back to haunt you. You should never marry a woman other men covet. Too many men will wish for your untimely death.” He called for a page to summon his archbishop and a messenger to send to Oxford.
“There are men and mothers from here to Rouen to Paris who pray for my untimely death, I might as well have a beautiful woman in my bed until their prayers are answered.” He reached for his sword and finally examined William’s map.
“I’ll have your bride here when you return or shortly after if you can defeat the rebels quickly.” William pointed to the area that needed to be suppressed.
“Why is Verdun incapable of handling this on his own? What do you want me to do?” Robert wiped the sweat from his brow, annoyed that these highborn commanders took so long to complete a task.
“What do you think I want you to do? They don’t call you The Butcher because you’re good at negotiations.” He handed him the map just as the archbishop entered the room.
“I’ve told you how I feel about that name. Do I have to remind you what they call…” He took the map as he hushed him for insubordination.
“Archbishop, Robert is relentless. He wants the Earl’s bride.”
“She is not his bride! They are not married, but if you keep delaying the matter he will catch wind of these plans and marry her.” He tried to push that horrible thought out of his mind. A few hours is all it would take--a ceremony and its subsequent consummation could ruin all his plans and yet they idled while he nearly died on the battlefield.
William spoke to the messenger before he could be interrupted again. “Please see that Lynette, dau
ghter of Alfric, is brought here by the time Lord Malet returns.”
“And do not let them send her sister in her stead. Lynette has dark hair and deep violet-colored eyes. They’re exquisite. Her sister has golden hair. I do not want to come back and find the wrong girl waiting for me.”
Promising his friend that her father would not be warned of his daughter’s impending nuptials, he pushed Robert out of the room and asked that he leave to catch up with Verdun’s men. Trusting him once again, Lord Malet rode with his men for the western coast, praying that he would survive to see Lynette again.
Almost a year had passed since they first met. It was just a brief encounter, but it had profoundly altered the course of his life. He had always planned to return to Rouen where he would marry and serve the Duchess, now Queen while she remained in Normandy. He’d seen so much war and death in 34 years, now he yearned for a peaceful life. Lynette could be his salvation, his perfect, beautiful salvation. How could William think he would give a damn about the Earl, her ridiculous cousin who had to bribe the church to marry her? Did he think him a fool? He was certain Lynette was meant to be his wife. He knew it the moment he held her in his arms and he would be damned if he allowed anyone to keep her from him.
Chapter 3
“But why must we go to London, father? Why me?” Lynette’s father asked her to pack a small trunk to take with them on their journey. He was asked to bring his family but her older sister was recently taken ill and her brother was recovering from an injury. She felt it worrisome that they didn’t seem upset as long as she was still able to travel. However, her father scoffed at the notion that this summons pertained to her. He believed it most likely involved the King seizing their land and moving them elsewhere. There were new barons on both sides of their estate and he naturally assumed they wanted to add his land to theirs.
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