Defending His Lady (Norfolk Knights Book 4)

by Saskia Knight

  Katherine and her sisters gasped. But Lady Charlotte didn’t.

  “And your people… they are peasants, I assume?”

  She bristled. “They work for no one but themselves.”

  “They are outlaws, then.”

  She shrugged. “We live our lives outside the rules and restrictions of the king and his overlords, if that is what you mean.”

  “You know full well my meaning. You are unnamed.”

  She would not admit to being an outlaw—that much had been drummed into her from an early age. There was a pride among those who lived in the forest. “My name is Kezia,” she insisted. “That is enough.”

  Lady Charlotte swept away her words with her hand. “A heathen name.”

  “My name,” she said, quietly but firmly.

  “And yet, with your fair hair, you have no look of an outlaw about you. In my experience, seeing them at the slave market in Norwich they’ve all been dark and swarthy.”

  Kezia ground her teeth but saw no need to reply. Lady Charlotte sat forward, a look of sudden interest on his face. “You are not of their race, are you?”

  Kezia shook her head. “No. They adopted me when my family was ambushed and killed in the forest. I do not know who my real family is.”

  “It cannot be that hard to find out. Did you make no inquiries?”

  She raised an eyebrow and shook her head. “How could I have done? My family believes I was about five years of age when it happened. And as you’ve pointed out, my people keep themselves to themselves. If they went to town to make inquiries, they’d be enslaved once more.”

  “Indeed.” Lady Charlotte turned her dark gaze to Rufus. “Well, mon fils, it looks like you’ve got yourself an outlaw who isn’t an outlaw, and a maid who’d rather be a warrior. Well done. All I wanted was for you to go and collect the bride we’d arranged for you. It didn’t seem like such a difficult thing, surely?”

  Rufus wasn’t troubled by the harsh words. “The bride you’d sent me to claim wasn’t worthy of taking the name de Vere.”

  “And this girl is?”

  “She’s saved my life three times already. What do you think?”

  “I think the marriage must be annulled as speedily as is possible. Pray, tell me your own thoughts.” She took a sip of wine, but Kezia could see her cheeks blazing in the dim light.

  But Rufus appeared not in the least perturbed. His mother might be fierce but she’d created someone even fiercer in her eldest son.

  Rufus looked from one to the other of them. Kezia held her breath. She’d hoped that by agreeing to Katherine’s suggestion, Rufus might see her as someone who could make him a suitable wife. Because her future held nothing if it didn’t have him in it. But she’d hoped in vain. The moment his glance rested on his sisters, who were playing some innocent game at the table, she knew she’d lost.

  “Think of them,” his mother hissed. “They need this alliance even more than the rest of us.”

  “Annulment would be best for the family. But, as there are no grounds, Kezia and I remain married.”

  Lady Charlotte rose from the table. “You must leave us, Kezia, at the earliest opportunity. Desertion is the easiest route for annulment. Where do you wish to go? I will make the necessary arrangements.”

  “Enough of this madness, Mother! Kezia is going nowhere. She is my wife and I will not force her to desert me. Is that understood?” he thundered.

  Lady Charlotte gritted her teeth and for once, did not reply.

  “Is that understood?” Rufus repeated.

  Lady Charlotte gave a brief nod. “Aye. But pray tell me how else we will save this family’s fortunes? Your brothers are next to useless—Savari appears to be getting nowhere at court. I fear he is working to some other plan than my own. And William has eyes for nothing but the land.”

  William’s eyes narrowed in anger, but he said nothing.

  “And your sisters,” she continued, “are set against marriage to anyone who might be of assistance to us.”

  “They are too young,” said William. He tousled the hair of the youngest daughter, Celestria. “Celestria is too clever to be landed with one of the dolts you keep presenting her with. And Katherine too much involved in the management of the household, and Lora, too good at manipulating everyone around her to find herself doing what she does not want to do.”

  “You are too soft with them,” Lady Charlotte said.

  “And you are too hard.”

  William and Lady Charlotte eyed each other stonily. There was obviously no love lost there, thought Kezia.

  “And as for you, William, you must forget where your heart tends. Lady Alice’s father has no interest in marrying her to a younger son.” She looked at Rufus. “But he is interested in Rufus.”

  William stood abruptly, his chair falling back with a thud on the rushes, and left the room. Lady Charlotte didn’t turn a hair.

  “Mama!” said Katherine, clearly upset. “You should not say such things to William.”

  “What things? The truth?” Lady Charlotte rose and clicked her fingers for her dogs to follow, and turned to her youngest daughter. “Come, Celestria, play chess with me. You are the only one able to match me.”

  The golden-haired girl, who couldn’t have been more than fourteen years of age, went and sat opposite her mother. The two were obviously closest in nature, and closest in affection.

  Kezia looked around. They were all pre-occupied: Rufus with his brother, his sisters with his mother. They’d fallen into a family routine which was alien to her.

  Kezia rose from the table. No one noticed. Even with the aid of Katherine’s gowns and potions and combs, she wasn’t able to sustain people’s interest. And there was no doubt as to why. From the moment she’d looked into the small mirror of polished steel which was Celestria’s pride and joy, and Kezia had seen what others had seen, her heart had plummeted. She’d never seen herself properly before, and her pale skin and pale hair appeared ghostly when compared to the vibrant ruddy coloring of Rufus’s family. She was as insignificant in coloring and features as she was in height. There was no way that Rufus would want her.

  She slipped away into the shadows with one last look at the family by the roaring fireside. A family of whom she was nominally a part but who, she now knew, would never accept her.

  As she went to the chamber she was to share with the sisters, she decided two things.

  One, that she would never again be made to feel unworthy. Indignation and anger swept away the despair which had dwelt in her gut like a stone from the moment she’d met Lady Charlotte. Her Romani family were every bit as good as these people, better even. And so was she.

  Two, that even if his family wouldn’t accept her, she’d make sure Rufus would.

  Chapter 9

  Kezia awoke to find Rufus’s sisters fast asleep around her. The faint gray light which framed the shutters indicated dawn was about to break. She lay back and listened to the sounds of the castle—the creaking of the floorboards as the servants began to rise and go about their duties, and the sounds from outside the shutters, of the birds and the sea.

  Carefully, so as not to awake the girls, she stepped out of bed, onto the cold wooden floor, and looked down at the sleeping faces of Katherine, Lora and Celestria. They’d all been kind to her, particularly Katherine, despite their mother’s disapproval. Although only a few years older than Katherine, she felt ancient compared to them all. They were so innocent, so inexperienced. What did they know of the real world? She understood Rufus’s desire to protect them. So would she, if she were in his shoes.

  She quickly dressed and walked over to the window and opened a shutter. Now she could hear it properly—the sound that had awakened her from her slumbers. The same rhythmic and mesmerizing sound which had struck her when she’d arrived: the sea, as it ebbed and flowed upon the shore. She could wait no longer to see it.

  It wasn’t as cold outside as she’d imagined. The air had a spring-like quality with the
wind coming off the land. She walked to the rear gatehouse, which led to the beach. A sleepy guard nodded and a few chickens dispersed. The flint-built gatehouse was grander than anything she’d seen before, grander even than the hunting lodge where the king was staying. As she emerged, she turned to look at the castle and saw the details of the building which spoke of a wealth that had obviously been in the family at some point. A low bark made her turn around to find Rufus’s dog, Boulon, following her. He tilted his head to one side as if asking for permission to join her. She grinned. It appeared that Boulon was as protective as his master.

  “Come on then, if you’re coming.” Obediently he fell into step with her, his great head looking from side to side as if searching for signs of danger. Apparently, there were none, and he ambled calmly beside her toward the sound of the sea.

  The trees which lined the road were black against a lightening sky. A frost was beginning to form on the black clods in the fields around, the green leaves of bitter vetch, sprouts and peas showed bright against the hoary soil. She left the road, following a sandy path with difficulty up to the top of a sand dune, and then she saw it for the first time.

  It was vast and gray and smelled like freedom. She’d never before seen such an empty expanse. She looked around cautiously, feeling vulnerable away from the trees which had been ever-present in her life. They’d formed both a protection and a limit to her home. But, standing here, looking out at the wide expanse, the vulnerability slipped away, leaving only an overwhelming sense of release. She felt dizzy at the possibilities which now lay open before her.

  A dark smudge, indicating a ship, was just visible on the horizon, and she suddenly felt the reality of being close to other countries. A thrill tracked along her spine at the thought that the rest of the world lay within reach. She pulled her cloak around her and strode out toward the water’s edge.

  “Where’s your wife, Rufus?” asked his mother in a disdainful voice.

  He shrugged. He’d been wondering the same thing. “I haven’t seen her.”

  “Maybe with a little luck, she’s deserted you already.”

  Rufus growled with anger and walked away. Would his mother never give up? He whistled for Boulon, glancing around the inner bailey but there was no sign of his loving mongrel. He whistled louder as he went outside the castle walls. He heard a bark coming from the beach and followed the sound.

  As he climbed the sand dune, which was all that separated the castle from the sea, he saw Boulon and Kezia in the distance. He frowned. It looked like she was doing some kind of dance. He’d seen her invisible, he’d seen her deadly, but he’d never seen her happy, and from a distance, she certainly was giving a good impression of being happy.

  He smiled to himself and sat. The sun wasn’t yet high, but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, so the air had quickly warmed, and the wind for once was coming from the land, bringing with it a warmer edge. He sat in the lea of a clump of grass and watched her, unseen from the beach.

  Kezia ran and skipped along the shoreline. She even had her shoes in her hand, her bare feet leaving a random pattern in the early morning sunlight. With her fair hair gleaming like silver in the bright light, she looked like some unearthly sprite. He grunted to himself. But of course, she was—a wood sprite who’d seen the sea for the first time. He plucked a piece of grass and chewed it, as he leaned back on his elbows, and drank his fill of her as she finished her dance and began making her way back to the dunes.

  It wasn’t until a stick was hurtled onto the beach and the dog retrieved it and went running up the sand dune that Kezia saw Rufus. He was nearly hidden by the spiky grasses which grew on the sand dunes, and she wondered how long he’d been there. Had he seen her dance along the beach, a dance she’d learned by watching the Romani women woo their men? She blushed at the thought.

  She walked across the gleaming wet sands toward him. “Good morrow, husband,” she said, smiling.

  He cupped his hand over his brow to shield the sun from his eyes. “Good morrow, wife.” Those perfectly formed lips returned her smile. It seemed the beautiful morning was casting its spell over him as well. “And pray, what do you make of our sea that you asked me so much about on our journey?”

  She glanced at the vast green-gray plane, topped by a charcoal line from which rose a deep blue sky.

  “I think you did not describe it well.” She turned to him.

  He tilted his head in query.

  “Aye, I think your words of description fell short, sir.”

  “In what way?”

  “It is more than what you said. It is…” She paused as she tried to think of the words to explain the impact of this new world upon her soul. She shook her head.

  “You are no better than me!”

  She laughed and sat beside him, sheltered from the wind by the sand dunes. “Mayhap. But you’ve had a lifetime to describe it. I’ve never seen the sea before. And nor have any of my people.”

  “I cannot imagine a world without the sea,” he said thoughtfully.

  “Nor I, now.” She sighed. “Sometimes travelers we knew would pass through the forest, and they would talk of it. But I had not imagined anything so large and so powerful. Nor so beautiful. It is like the finest, sheerest silk of palest green, ruffled from light wearing.”

  “Ah, you do indeed describe the sea better than me. But what you describe is for now only. Tomorrow it will be different, and the day after that, different again. There is always something, the light, the wind, the rain, which changes it.”

  She was entranced by the faraway look in his eyes as if he were many miles, and many countries, away. Gone was the scowling warrior of the castle, and in his place, she suddenly saw the real man, a man who was happiest when free, when he didn’t have to play the games of men.

  “But it must always be beautiful,” she said, not wanting this new Rufus to disappear just yet.

  “Aye. Even when it’s raging and fearsome. Even when the lightning forks the sky and thunder rattles across the land. Although I doubt anyone who’s been shipwrecked would consider it beautiful.” He looked at her and this time his gaze didn’t waver. Something flared low in her gut. Desire.

  She swallowed. “Shipwrecks? The sea looks so kind today. Strong, but gentle.”

  “It is unpredictable.”

  “Then I pity the poor ships.” She forced herself to look away but felt the heat rise to her cheeks as he continued to look at her. She pointed to the ship on the horizon which was slowly making its way along the coast and, at the same time, further out to sea. She hoped he’d follow her gaze. He didn’t.

  “That one there. Does it go to the countries you told me of? The… I forget the name.”

  “The Baltic countries?”

  She sighed. “Baltic.” She savored the word on her tongue. “That’s the word.” She returned her gaze to him then. “It sounds a fine place.”

  “It is fine, but that ship is going to Holland. I can tell because it veers away from us. It is heading east.”

  She followed his narrowed gaze out to the boat growing ever smaller, her eyes watering in the bright sunlight. But she had no thoughts of the boat. Only of this man. She couldn’t imagine being away from him now. At some level which she couldn’t even explain to herself, she felt he was her home now.

  She lay back on her elbows. “Tell me what it is like to be at sea.”

  “What it is like?” He looked out to sea, as if the answers hid there. “It is hard to pin down. It’s changeable. You can look out from the deck of a ship to a day of sunshine and calm and think all is well, only to be tossed by raging seas and battered by a howling wind which has risen from nowhere.” He looked at her and her stomach flipped with desire. She wasn’t sure what his feelings, if any, were toward her. But she knew she aroused him. It was there in his eyes, and in the honeyed tone of his voice when he spoke to her.

  “Go on,” she said, her voice sounding lower than usual. She closed her eyes and luxuriated in the caress
of the sun on her face.

  “It’s deceptive, its secrets lie hidden until you know what to look for.” There was a long pause. “Like you.”

  She opened her eyes to find his eyes ranging over her hair, her eyes, before coming to rest on her lips.

  She shivered.

  “You’re cold. The sun misleads. While it is warmer here than up north, it is still but spring.”

  She was about to deny the fact when he swept his cloak around her. She was immediately enveloped in his body heat. Another shiver ran down her back which had nothing to do with the cool air.

  “What did you mean?” she asked.

  “About what?”

  “You said I was deceptive. How so?”

  He frowned as he considered her question. He reached out and pushed a strand of her hair back from her face, his fingertips lingering on the curve of her ear. A trail of goosebumps flared in their wake. He dropped his hand, and she fingered the strand, wanting him to touch her again.

  “How are you different? In the castle, you were invisible. Now, you’re most definitely not invisible.”

  She shrugged. “That’s me surviving. Mayhap I should also have kept my invisibility here.”

  “No. There’s no need. I will protect you.” The words rushed from his mouth as if he had no time to heed them. He certainly looked as surprised at what he’d said, as she felt.

  “And how will you do that, sir, when I desert you as your mother requests?”

  “You will not desert me. You don’t wish to go and I shall never force you.”

  The breeze blew her hair away again, making it dance in the breeze, and he reached out for it, as if he could not help himself. And she did not want him to help himself. She wanted him, and she wanted to stay.

  This time when he pushed the lock of hair back from her face, she reached up and held his hand against her face and turned her lips and kissed the palm of his hand.

  She closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, he was closer still. She couldn’t have said which one closed the gap. Mayhap they both moved together at the same time.