Promised to the Crusader
Page 20
Anger flared into a roaring flame inside her. How could he demand that she allow this foul villain to flout the law? She wanted to denounce him to the king and demand satisfaction, but Zander’s eyes narrowed and he looked angry.
‘Elaine, come.’ He held out his hand to her imperiously. It was a command, not a request, and she could only take the quill he offered to her, dip it in the ink and sign where the cleric pointed out. ‘Good, it is done,’ Zander said and signed himself.
‘This seals our alliance, Newark,’ he said. ‘Tell Richard that when he comes I shall be at his disposal should he need my help.’
‘Of course, it is no more than I expected,’ the earl said smoothly. His tongue moved over his thick lips, making Elaine shudder, though she gave no outward sign. ‘Richard was grateful for the generous donation, which made it possible to pay his ransom. He will no doubt show his appreciation when he returns.’
Zander stepped forwards, offering his hand. The two men clasped hands and smiled, as if they were the best of friends.
‘You will sup with us this evening?’
‘Forgive me, I must continue my journey,’ the earl said. ‘I have stayed too long, but I wanted this settled.’
‘You may go with our good wishes. We bear you no animosity,’ Zander said.
Elaine watched them go, then returned to her chamber. She was unhappy that Zander had come to terms with the earl so easily, for honour demanded that he should pay for what he had done to her uncle and aunt, and would no doubt have done to her had he caught her.
She knew that Zander had wanted the lands of Howarth. Was it for that that he had betrayed her—selling her honour and her peace of mind for one hundred silver pieces? If he loved her, he must have known how hurt she was. He would have driven his sword into the earl’s black heart.
Her uncle had never deceived Newark. It was all a lie to cover his wickedness and Zander knew that. How could he pretend to believe it and accept the earl’s terms?
She paced the floor of her chamber, her soft slippers making no noise on the stone flags. Her heart ached, for she had begun to believe that Zander truly loved her, but now she was unsure. Why had Zander given into Newark’s terms for so little recompense? Did he not see it was an insult to her uncle’s memory?
Some time passed and then Zander came into her chamber.
‘I know you are upset, but I can explain why it was necessary to accept the earl’s apology.’
‘I heard no apology.’
‘It was as close as a man of his nature could come to an apology.’
‘He is a murderer and a thief. I do not want his blood money.’
‘I did not expect you to keep it. You may give it to the poor—distribute it as you please.’
‘Very well, I shall use it to ensure that my people are well fed this winter—but I wish that you had punished him for what he did to my uncle and aunt.’
‘You know that there was nothing else I could have done. Had things been different I might have challenged him—but he has Richard’s ear and goes to meet him and bring his Majesty back to England. If Prince John hears of Richard’s imminent return, he may try some treachery. I cannot pick a quarrel with a man of Newark’s stature at this time.’
Elaine turned her head aside; the tears were so close that she could barely speak for emotion. It seemed to her that he cared less for her than his duty to the king, but she kept her hurt inside and said nothing.
‘I have to leave you soon. I must speak with Lord Stornway—and then I must visit my uncle. After that I must prepare to meet the king. In the morning we shall hunt again, to make sure you have enough meat until we return. While we are away I would have you pack so that we can move on to the estate my uncle has found for us.’
‘If you must go, you must go,’ Elaine said. ‘My women and I can manage here alone. There is enough food to sustain us for some months if we are careful.’
‘I should not be away so very long and I shall leave sufficient men to protect you and your people,’ he said and held out his hand to her. ‘Will you not come down and dine now?’
She took his hand and went with him to join his men in the Great Hall. Clearly, he thought he had done the right thing in making peace with Newark, and perhaps he had. She found his attitude hurtful, feeling that she and her lands were merely pawns in a game of power play. Elaine held her sigh inside. He was leaving her again. Had he married her merely because he had thought it right to honour his promise made so many years ago—or because the acquisition of her lands and manors made him more powerful?
Once she’d believed he loved her as deeply as she loved him, but now she could not be sure.
Chapter Fifteen
Zander did not come to her chamber that night. There was restraint between them and he merely kissed her hand and told her he would not disturb her.
‘I intend to rise early in the morning for we must hunt and ’tis often better before the day is too far advanced,’ he said. ‘I wish you pleasant dreams, Elaine.’
She nodded, her eyes stinging with tears as she entered her chamber alone. Why was Zander so stubborn? Why could he not take her in his arms and tell her he loved her? Did he not understand how arrogant he’d seemed, commanding her to sign that infamous document? She knew that wives were supposed to obey their husbands—and he had the power to beat her if he chose—but she’d believed he was different from men like Newark and Lord Stornway. Were all her dreams of a gentle youth just the foolish imaginings of a young girl?
For a while at Christ’s Mass, he had seemed almost like his old self, though there was always a part of him that remained aloof. Elaine had believed, hoped, that he would gradually return to her…become the God-fearing, devout man she’d loved and enshrined in her heart.
Now he seemed to have withdrawn from her again. Perhaps it was her fault, but he must surely understand her feelings? Had he explained the situation to her first rather than presenting her with the document to sign, she might have accepted it more easily.
Was she asking too much?
Rising from her bed as the first rays of morning light crept through her slitted window, Elaine went to look out at the scene below. Already the men were stirring. She could see the knights preparing to mount their horses, the runners and dogs, and the huntsman who was always the fleetest on foot and could keep up with the dogs. He would be there at the kill, to dispatch swiftly any prey that the knights might wound with their arrows.
Elaine saw Zander speaking with Sir Robert. The two men were laughing, talking easily. She felt hot. Were they talking of her? In another moment she knew she blushed for nothing. Their talk would be of more important things…alliances, the return of the king and the small matter of purchasing a new manor so that they might move on for a few months while Sweetbriars was cleansed and the stores could be replenished. A woman was just another possession; they would not waste their time in speaking of a mere wife.
As she watched, she saw other men come to Zander and ask him something; he gave each one his attention, as much to the lowest churl as to his knights. One of the women servants offered him a cup of water, which he took and drank, thanking her.
Elaine felt a spurt of jealousy as she saw how the woman looked at him. He was a tall, powerful man and, despite the scar, which had at last begun to heal, he was handsome. She ought to be proud that he was her husband instead of sulking.
Suddenly, as if he knew she was there, he looked up at her window. He seemed to hesitate, then lifted his hand. Feeling hot and foolish, she stepped back, not wanting him to think she had been watching him.
Had she been foolish to let him leave her the previous night? She had wanted him to lie with her, but pride forbade that she tell him so. In her heart, Elaine knew that she would always love him. Yet she wanted him to treat her as his equal, to love her truly and not just as a pleasant bedmate—a woman of good birth who had brought him her estate and would bear his children.
Was it ever possible for a wo
man to be treated as an equal by a man? Most would say not. Women were used to gain either power or lands. Elaine wondered at her own foolishness in expecting it. In her world women were often little more than chattels, to be bought, sold or given away as their fathers and guardians pleased.
She wanted so much more. She’d heard stories of women who inspired great love, like Helen of Troy. there were other fables, too, stories of women who had brought men to their knees. Even in the Bible there were women who could control great warriors, like Delilah, who had cut off Samson’s hair, and Cleopatra, who held the hearts of two Roman emperors. Elaine had no desire to control—but she did want respect and love from her husband. She’d thought passion was enough, but now she knew quite clearly that for her it would never be sufficient.
She was Zander’s wife, nothing could change that, but she wanted him to come to her in love—and she wanted to share his life, to be consulted before he made decisions that affected their lives.
The hunting had not been good again. They took three rabbits, five wood pigeon and a small deer. It was hardly enough to feed the women and servants, let alone the knights, and that meant they would need to use more of the salted meat from their dwindling stores.
Zander knew that he could not delay his journey a day longer, even if Elaine begged him to stay. He must find a larger manor with woods that supported more game and fields to rear sufficient livestock to keep them in meat throughout the winter. Sweetbriars was a beautiful home in the summer and autumn, but in the deep midwinter they needed to move on. Castle Howarth had been restored to them, but Zander knew that Newark would have drained it of its stores. Its grain, roots and salted meat would have been used, and though the game might be more plentiful there, the estate needed time to recover from being occupied by a man like the Earl of Newark, who took everything but put nothing back. Zander would need to speak to the steward, give him gold to replenish the stores—and then they might spend some time there next winter.
He frowned as he went into the house. Was Elaine still angry with him? God knew he’d had no choice but to accept the earl’s terms. He was not yet strong enough to fight two enemies, and, though Philip had not come against him yet, he would. To make an enemy of the earl would have been folly and Elaine must know it in her heart. Surely she did? He had racked his brain trying to find some way of appeasing her without giving offence to his new allies, but could find none. She’d seemed reserved the previous night and so he’d left her to sleep alone, though he had lain awake thinking of her for hours.
However, as he entered the hall, he saw that she was already there, ordering the setting up of the boards for supper that night. Servants were bringing in the heavy boards and placing them on trestles; these tables were easy to clear away in the mornings so that the hall was empty and could be used for other things. The high table where he sat with his knights and Elaine was made of heavy carved oak and in one piece, but it was the only table that remained in situ all day and normally bore the huge silver salt and plates of pewter and silver. It had already been set with ewers of ale and wine, platters of bread and dishes of dates.
Zander walked to the table and took a date, biting into the sweet, firm flesh. He was hungry after a day in the saddle and thirsty.
‘Will you have wine, my lord?’ Elaine asked and he turned to look at her hopefully. Had she forgiven him for not consulting her? She was smiling and seemed to have forgotten their small quarrel of the previous day.
‘Yes, thank you. It has been a long day with little to show for our labours. Our stores will last no longer than a month—and we must leave sufficient for those who remain here after we move on.’
‘I know that you must go,’ Elaine said and lifted her head proudly. The look in her eyes told him that she had not quite forgiven him for ignoring her wishes, though she’d decided to put it behind her. ‘I shall do well enough here with my ladies.’
‘I shall return as soon as I am able.’
‘As you wish, my lord,’ Elaine said.
He frowned, looking at her uncertainly. ‘Are you feeling better now?’
‘Much better,’ she replied, her eyes icy. ‘I know my duties as the chatelaine of this house, my lord.’
‘And what of your duties as my wife?’ Zander’s voice was low and ominous, but she merely raised her head higher and turned away, as if she had not heard him.
Zander controlled the urge to take hold of her wrist and make her attend him. He resisted, though she pushed him hard. It was too public here and he would have time enough later to make her listen. Her pride was beyond bearing at times. He was tempted to put her across his knee and beat her.
The idea made his guts tighten and he realised that he would take no pleasure in chastising his wilful wife—for what he really wanted was to have her warm and willing in his arms. He wanted to kiss her, to stroke her soft flesh and feel her heat as she welcomed him into her body.
What did Elaine want of him? It was impossible to know a woman’s mind. His wife was beautiful and he desired her, but she was also proud and tempestuous. He might indeed need to chastise her to teach her how she should behave!
He strode away from her, going to his own chamber to wash the dirt of the day from his face and hands. This evening he intended to have things out with her!
Elaine was smiling as she finished overseeing the preparation of the hall for supper. She was aware of Zander’s frustration and it pleased her. While she did not wish to be at odds with her husband, she was not prepared to become a mere chattel that he could order as he chose. She was the mistress here in her own right and he must respect her.
Would he also love her—or was she killing the affection she believed he’d had for her? She knew his temper; it came easily and usually blew itself out as swiftly, for he was a just man. He treated all his people as equals—so why not his wife?
When she was satisfied that all was in place for a celebration that evening—the last they would have for some weeks, until Zander returned or their stores could be replenished—Elaine knew as well as he did that they must begin to conserve what they had if they were to survive the winter. With the frosts so hard the game was all but gone and if they did not find new sources they would have to slaughter the sheep and cattle that should be kept to breed new stock in the spring. In a hard winter both the lord in his manor and the common-folk could come close to starvation if they did not manage their food stocks wisely.
Zander had to inspect the manor his uncle had found for them. Elaine understood and was ready to accept that it was but one of the absences she must endure over the years. He’d pledged himself to King Richard and, when his Majesty returned, must be ready to take up arms in his defence. A part of his urgency was to find a place where Elaine and her people would be safe if that should happen. A rich manor, well stocked with large woods and close to his powerful uncle’s estate, was exactly what was needed. She knew it in her heart, but she needed to know that she was more to him than a mere possession, a chattel that became his to do with as he would when they wed.
Although she longed to give in and let him take her in his arms that night, she was determined to resist. He must learn to respect her views for unless he did, there could be no happiness for either of them.
Elaine might be asking too much, but it was what she wanted—what she needed—and if Zander were the man she’d believed him, he would know that.
Elaine remained calmly aloof throughout the meal that night. She smiled at those who served her, laughed at the jests Zander’s knights made and graciously led the dancing that followed the meal. Then she bade them all goodnight and wished them a safe journey and swift return to their loved ones.
Zander watched her and brooded. He could find no fault in her manner, for she charmed his knights and treated her servants well. He knew that she was deeply loved by her people and returned their care for her diligently. Elaine was never idle and there would always be a poultice or a cure for any ill that she could ease with her
simple potions. Neither she nor the physicians could cure many of the terrible ills that sometimes afflicted people; it was simply not possible to understand why people took the wasting sickness or died in terrible pain. Those that suffered from afflictions to their mind were dismissed as having been invaded by demons and chained or left to die in filth and poverty. Only God or a visit to a holy shrine might bring them to their right minds; the surgeons could do nothing. It was a fact of life and amongst the many mysteries that wise men sought to solve by studying their charts of the stars.
Why could Elaine not be as dutiful a wife as she was a chatelaine? Other ladies of her birth knew their place; they smiled and were obedient to their husbands. They expected to be told what to do and were grateful for what they were given.
At least Zander’s mother had seemed that way to him. She would never have dreamed of challenging his father’s decisions…and yet…there was a tiny part of him that admitted he did not truly wish for a submissive wife. One of the reasons he’d fallen in love with Elaine so many years ago was that she was full of life and playful…wilful…
A smile came to his mouth as he remembered a day they had spent together in the woods. Elaine’s nurse had called to her that her father wanted her. She had been scolded and told to come in and tidy herself—but instead she’d taken Zander’s hand and they’d run away to the woods. It had been early autumn then, warm and still with only the chattering of a red squirrel or the sound of birdsong to disturb the silence of the leafy glade in which he’d made a bed of his cloak. They’d lain there for hours, talking, laughing, and kissing…looking into each other’s eyes as they talked of everything. He’d shared his hopes and dreams with her then and she’d shared hers.
He’d wanted to love her so badly but he’d been too honourable to despoil his innocent lady. She’d been as pure when he left her that evening as when she had given him her hand in trust. He remembered her standing in the stream, her tunic up above her knees as she wriggled her toes on the sandy bed. He’d found her ripe berries, which she’d eaten greedily, the juice staining her lips—and he’d licked it from her mouth. Most men would have had her then, taking her in the privacy of their secret place, but he’d let her go—because he loved her. Because he had always loved her and loved her still, God help him!