This Ravished Rose

by Anne Carsley

  Katherine sat up with a jerk and looked into the small eyes that gave her look for look even as the hands pressed morning ale and bread upon her. Was it you? Katherine thought as she sneezed convincingly and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Must I go in terror of my own household now, never knowing who stood above me in the night?

  They rode from the village, the men-at-arms marching boldly ahead. The old woman, swathed in shawls, waved from the doorway of the biggest hut, flanked by a short bearded man whose stare was intense. Katherine shuddered and moved her horse up close by John who turned to look at her, wondering at the bruises under her eyes and the new thinness in her slender face.

  “Are you well, my lady?”

  Katherine knew that she must dissemble even with this man who seemed so trustworthy. She said, “I may be getting the ague. I feel shaky and weak. My eyes burn.” Coldly she watched the concerned expression on his face and the warmth in his gaze.

  “We should arrive at Hunsdale at least by late afternoon today. They will cosset you there and restore you to health.”

  Dame Barstow was riding close by and heard the remark. She chuckled archly and Katherine felt the chills go down her back.

  “It is too soon for that, Madam. Too soon by far. If you are too eager, you’ll not be blessed. I know.” Irritation burned Katherine as she snapped, “What are you talking about?”

  “A child, Madam, an heir for your lord.”

  Then rage overtook Katherine and she forgot all caution. “The more fool you! Keep your rattling tongue off me and mine or I will have it tamed for you!”

  The woman paled and her glance slid off Katherine’s angry face as she mumbled, “Forgive me, I did not mean . . .”

  John said, “It is too soon.” The words were delivered in a flat even tone that Katherine would have taken for reassurance had she not happened to look up at that same moment. His eyes were hard on Dame Barstow even as they shifted to Katherine. A message passed between the maid and the steward, both of whom stared at Katherine.

  The girl put a hand to her head and swayed. “My head will not stop pounding!”

  John beckoned to one of the men to help him. Carefully they lifted Katherine from the saddle and placed her on his horse in front of him with the cloak so arranged that it covered her completely.

  “Rest now, my lady.” John’s voice was kind and matter-of-fact again, a servant in the service of his lady.

  Wildly Katherine wondered if she were wandering in her wits. What was the meaning of what she had seen last night? What was that aura of evil and meaningful cruelty she had felt? She felt that something unspeakably malevolent lay in wait for her and that it was slowly drawing closer. It gave her such a helpless feeling that she shivered. These were no fancies but sober truth. Whatever the future brought she knew that she would fight for herself with all her powers. If she went down to defeat it would be with all the courage of her father.

  With that meager comfort, Katherine fell headlong into sleep, not knowing that over her body, the eyes of her servants met in triumph.

  Chapter 13

  Hunsdale Castle

  Shadows were drawing long on the moor and there was a faint hint of salt in the cool air as the party paused near a hill and looked far off in the distance toward a dim shape rising out of the mists. A gray castle loomed against the sky and seemed part of the landscape.

  John leaned toward Katherine. “Hunsdale, my lady. All these lands for many miles belong to my Lord Hunsdale. They are his partly by right of inheritance but King Edward added to them by virtue of loyal service.”

  She nodded soberly and made no reply but the words rankled. So her father served Edward loyally and won a lonely death for it. What would happen when the king learned that his faithful servant had wed a traitor’s daughter? She had no doubt that that was what her father was called.

  They moved on and the forbidding house loomed closer. Katherine was glad that she had stopped to change into the brown traveling dress which was banded with dark fur and that her hair was well braided under the headdress which threw her great eyes into prominence. She looked proud and arrogant. Katherine knew that she would need every advantage to face her new life.

  Her mind went ahead of her as they quickened their pace. James had only to mention the true circumstances of their marriage to Edward as well as the eagerness to please the king by wedding even though against his will. The king would not wish to offend so powerful a lord and matters might be discreetly arranged. Then where would Katherine Hartley be? Her thoughts ran on in the same weary vein as they rode down the hillside, under the raised portcullis and into the tiltyard of the ancient ancestral castle of Hunsdale.

  Katherine was grateful for the hours spent in steeling herself to expect little and to keep an impassive face for now she had need of it. The castle was ready for border war and well equipped to stand under a siege. Soldiers patrolled the squat watchtowers constantly, their eyes alert and weapons ready. Others drilled under the stem gaze of their superiors. They lifted passive eyes as the new arrivals passed. A grizzly, hardened lot at best, they expected battle, engaged in hard drinking, and dallied with the few women, mostly wives or girls from the countryside. Heads were inclined as Katherine passed but all went their way, knowing or caring little that the lord’s wife was now in residence, for the tenor of their lives would not change.

  A slender, dark woman in her late thirties with brilliant blue eyes curtsied to Katherine as the girl entered the palpable chill of the castle.

  “My wife, Frances,” said John as he moved close to her and touched her shoulder in greeting.

  “Welcome, my lady. If I may serve you, you have only to command. Our life here is quiet.” The voice was cool and assessing.

  Katherine saw no friendliness in Frances Redgrove. There was a hint of suppressed mirth in the curve of the too red mouth and the white hands continually fiddled with her wide belt.

  “Thank you, Mistress Redgrove. I understand that I have a female relative here? James spoke of the Lady Sarah?”

  He had not. That information had come from a casual remark made by Lady Dorotea on the day James had first come to the house in York. She had spoken then of his need for a wife and of the vast holdings of the Hunsdale name.

  Now Katherine watched as Frances frowned slightly and glanced at John as if for guidance.

  “Come, mistress. Take me to my kinswoman.” Frances bent her head but not before real dislike flickered out at Katherine. “This way, my lady. You must realize that our ways here are possibly not in accordance with the life you have known. You must instruct us.” Again that faint insolence.

  “I shall.” Katherine, too, could be haughty. Now she had the satisfaction of seeing the blue eyes fall before her own. Turning, Frances walked swiftly through the bare, draughty halls, up a flight of stone stairs, and into a huge room which in turn led to a small anteroom where an old lady sat before two braziers.

  Lady Sarah Pendon was in her late sixties, a very distant relative of the Hunsdales who had been married briefly so long ago that she had almost forgotten his name. It was she who was ostensibly the chatelaine, greeting the rare guest, seeing to the amenities of the castle and keeping it ready for the lord should he arrive. In reality, Katherine saw, she was content to sit by the fires with a brandy bottle and dream of her youth. There was no ally here. Katherine saw the triumph in Frances’s look even as she went forward to the befuddled old woman who, unexpectedly, rose to greet her out of the nest of shawls in the room’s one chair.

  “Welcome to this your home, my lady.” She tilted a cheek for Katherine to kiss. The scent of brandy almost made the girl faint as she returned the kiss. She helped the tottering form back to the chair.

  Katherine stood looking at the walls which oozed moisture and were bare of tapestries. A great bed with canopies, and several wooden stools were the only furniture. A tattered heap of clothing lay in one corner.

  “Is the rest of the castle like this?” Katherine could
not resist asking the question.

  Lady Sarah said, “Aye. This is the best chamber, but I will vacate it promptly as is seemly. You will be comfortable here. You do not have the look of a pampered lady of the court.”

  Katherine laughed in real amusement. “I am not.” Frances stepped forward. “Would you like to rest now, my lady? It has been a long journey.”

  Katherine crossed to the brazier and stretched out her hands to it. The light touched her face, baring the hollowed cheeks and giving shadows to the long straight bones of her body. Lady Sarah glanced at her, then back to Frances. Her words were soft.

  “Was it wholly wise to send her here?”

  “One does not question the will of James Hunsdale.”

  “Not even she, who must have his heart?”

  Katherine heard the whispering but did not really grasp the import of their words. That strange feeling of drifting that she had felt once or twice in the past three weeks since James’s departure was coming over her again. She saw the fire as though in a steel mirror.

  Quickly she touched the wall to steady herself and felt the moisture trickle down her sleeve. As her head cleared Frances’s words came clearly.

  “The marriage is one of convenience for both. There is no heart in it, only need for an heir.”

  Katherine whirled as strength pumped through her. “Ladies, my marriage is between my lord and myself. I will not abide gossip. Let this be remembered. Now, tomorrow we begin to make this place habitable. There is much to be done.”

  Lady Sarah sighed. “I am sure that we have done as best we might.”

  Frances said flatly, “With what monies, my lady?” Katherine stared her down. She knew that everyone must know of the orders James had given. It was too spicy a tale to keep silent and she did not doubt that Frances would embellish it once out of her presence.

  She spread her feet apart and put her hands on her hips in a gesture almost peasant-like. It kept her legs from shaking and helped her to hold her voice hard. “I speak of cleaning first, Frances. Surely there are those who can do that? We begin at dawn. These are my orders.”

  “Aye, madam.”

  “You may go. I remain to talk with Lady Sarah.” Katherine knew that she was making a deadly enemy to treat the woman so but she could not allow the insolence for it would spread and her life would be even more miserable.

  She turned back to Lady Sarah who was smiling happily and feeling about for her cup. “Let me pour you another, my lady. Now, tell me of life here on the border. What has it been like for you these years?”

  The old lady began to ramble, the brandy made her more garrulous as did the obvious curiosity in Katherine’s voice. The fondness in Lady Sarah’s voice when she spoke of James, even though she had not seen him for years, made the girl know the way to ally herself for she knew that she must have friends in this place and rank yet ruled the world. Soon her head dropped forward and she slept. Katherine sat long, huddled in her cloak before the dimming braziers, thinking and planning. The challenge had presented itself, it was up to her to take it up.

  It was raining the next morning when Katherine, dressed in her old gray gown, a darker gray cap over her braids, descended the stairs to where several maidservants, young boys and Frances awaited her. The chill came in the window slits and dripped down the thick walls. The smell of mildew and rot rose heavily. She ignored the generally sullen air as she gave orders that the stairs were to be scrubbed, water boiled, fires built, covers washed.

  A mute maidservant took Katherine over the entire castle from the watch towers to the keep and the unused dungeons. The great dining hall was filthy with encrusted matter of years. Faded banners hung from the beams and old rushes lay in corners. Katherine whirled on Frances who had come this far with them.

  “How is it that such conditions prevail here? It appears that help is abundant.”

  Frances spread white hands that had not soiled themselves with work. Katherine felt as if she should hide her own long, work-rough fingers.

  “The winter is not long ended, my lady. No lord has visited this castle in years. We have been concerned with survival.”

  “You have not suffered.” The words were wrenched from Katherine before she could help herself.

  “I have a protective husband.” Frances smiled into her face. “Enjoy your tour.” She walked away.

  Katherine swallowed her anger, her day would come. As they continued she was more and more appalled at the grimness of the entire castle as well as the actual dirtiness of those places not totally concerned with living and eating. She reflected that she would not turn Lady Sarah from her quarters. A chamber several doors down would suffice and she would retain the woman’s good will by deferring to her.

  She, May, Alison and Dame Barstow fell upon the room with a will to prepare it for habitation. The bed was taken apart and cleaned as were the covering furs and canopy. A great fire burned steadily, robes and any cloth available were hung before the window slits so that the warmth would stay. Katherine’s few belongings were set about on the stone floor which was swept clean. A flagon of wine and a horn cup were placed on the table near the bed, a stool was set for her feet, and a chest was brought for her few gowns and books.

  In the rush of hard work that Katherine did alongside her servants, some of the airs and hostilities faded. The girl even told herself that she might have imagined some of the more lurid happenings of the night in the village. They were sitting on stools resting when the door opened and John entered, Frances behind him.

  “Lady Katherine, as was promised, two of these must return with several of the men-at-arms. Have you selected who shall remain?”

  Katherine had given no more thought to it but she knew that this was subtle pressure. Had she not experienced the night and its horrors her regret would have been the more keen, for she had felt brief comradeship on the journey, a thing she had known too little in her life. As it was, she said,

  “Yes, it shall be Alison.”

  The maid looked at the floor and said, “Yes, my lady.”

  Katherine knew they had expected her to protest so she waved a hand in dismissal. “They will be ready but now there is work to be done.” She rose from her stool, the world lifted with her and she fell in a faint on the floor.

  Katherine woke to find herself lying in her bed with a cold cloth firmly on her head and the scent of lavender in her nostrils. She was warm as she had not been all day and a delightful lassitude permeated her entire body. There was a sound at her door, a question, swift footsteps and a voice said sharply,

  “Not now. She will need rest and quiet. Continue the tasks you were given and be quick about it.”

  Katherine sat up to see Lady Sarah, quite in her right mind with no brandy scents evident, shut the door emphatically and turn toward the bed.

  “What happened?”

  “You fainted, my dear. Now you rest quietly and soon some broth will be brought up for you. There will be fresh eggs as well. I intend to see that you eat every bite.”

  “There is much to be done. I was simply overtired. You must not fuss.” Katherine leaned back wearily. She had been healthy all her life, then suddenly she was going about drooping constantly.

  “Lady, it is not so fearsome. You must not be afraid.” Lady Sarah settled herself on the side of the bed and looked into Katherine’s face which seemed even more white and strained than it had earlier.

  Katherine stared into the old face, marveling at the strength exhibited by its owner when she thought there was need. She said, “I do not understand. Of what am I afraid?”

  “All women fear it as they long for it.” Lady Sarah was too far in the past remembering her tall sons dead on King Edward’s battlefields to notice Katherine’s shock.

  Blessed Jesus, so that is what she means, thought Katherine incoherently. It is so early but my flux has never been regular. Is there no other explanation for the way I have been feeling lately? How can I have a child of his? How can I not?r />
  Suddenly her spirits lifted in a whirl of excitement. She could have the child and remind James of his wish granted. Once he had an heir there could be no obstacle to her freedom. He might grant her leave to go to France or Holland, there to live. Wild thinking perhaps, but he did not want to be married any more than she did and such a move would free them both. She could come back to see the child. Across nearly nine months, Katherine smiled at the thought of safety, a life of her own to be ordered as she willed it, and that dearest of all things, freedom.

  “I pray for a son.” Her words were awestruck as she forced them into the stillness.

  Lady Sarah tinned back to Katherine and saw the pale face as though transfigured. Emotionally, she knelt. There were the swift easy tears of age in her faded eyes.

  “As do we all, dear Katherine.” It was the first time she had uttered the girl’s name without a proper title and now she hesitated.

  Quickly Katherine made the most of this new alliance and knowledge. She pushed the heavy hair from her shoulders and said, “I did not suspect, it was so early, but now we know. I need your help.”

  Lady Sarah sat up proudly. “I understand that all this is bewildering.”

  “In truth, lady, our marriage was very quick. My guardian suddenly dead and James due to leave for battle, he torn by duty. We quarreled savagely and he laid the orders given John upon me, then left in anger.”

  “Poor child.” Lady Sarah hung on her words. Katherine guessed that she had not been made to feel important in many a year.

  “What more right than that I should come here? But when he learns of the babe he will doubtless come. I am not versed in the keeping of a great house for I was mostly reared in the convent. Certainly I know little of childbirth and all that must be done.” Lady Sarah had once commanded great battalions of servants and ridden at her lord’s side in the early years of the Yorkist straggles. She had known Edward’s mother, Proud Cis as she was called, and had sought to model herself on that redoubtable lady. She said, “We will make plans, my dear Katherine. You have a good high pride in you, Jamie loves that. Together we will make things right for him.”