Redefining Rayne

by Amy Mullen

  Before she could ready herself, a tap drew her attention to the door. The sight of Andre was welcome, though she would not admit it out loud. He hesitated and then walked into the room when Tillie bade him enter.

  "Good afternoon, ladies," he said. "I trust all is well."

  An uncomfortable silence followed. Tillie finally stood and made her way out of the room.

  Andre watched her go and then faced Rayne. "I thought it might be best if we spent a bit of time getting to know one another. I've arranged an outdoor meal if you would care to join me."

  Unsure of what to do or say, she stared opened-mouthed at him. All of her ideas, plans, and schemes fell aside. She studied his face. He was calm, serene even. Any traces of his earlier irritation were gone. It seemed a simple enough request, but she was unsure how to read him.

  "I, uh, sure," she said putting aside the kirtle she was working on. "When?"

  "Now."

  "Ah… then, I am ready whenever." A rush of uncertainty rained down on her. Why was he so calm and relaxed? Should she worry? He had been so angry with her the night before, and now he was composed and tranquil. It made no sense.

  "Come, then." He beckoned with his hand. "Meet me outside the great hall in a few minutes. Helga, the cook, has already prepared a basket for us. I thought this might be an opportunity to give you a view of your new home, and mayhap we can agree on a few things before another day passes." He did not wait for a response, but turned on his heel and left the room.

  After wrestling with her indecision, she donned a warm cloak and joined him. One meal alone would not change anything. Andre was waiting for her. In his arms were a few blankets and a basket. He nodded at her and set off.

  Rayne followed, savoring the warm sun on her skin. Stepping carefully, they went around the outside of the great hall, and they followed a well-worn, rock lined path that started to go up a hill behind the hall and sleeping quarters. As they continued, it curved along the slope until they were behind and almost above where she slept each night.

  "Where are we going?" she asked.

  "It is the best place to see all around. This hill used to be the mound on which the original dwelling was built. Now, the hall is at the base, but built into it. At the top, you can see for quite a distance. I have a guard tower up there, but there is also a nice spot to sit, when one finds the time."

  His stride was strong and sure as he scaled the hill. Rayne followed him until they came to the promised spot. Though the March air was starting to cool off, there was a roaring fire awaiting them on the crest of the hill. "This is beautiful," she said as she surveyed the area. She gazed over the curtain walls and into the valley and woods beyond.

  "'Tis one of my favorite spots, though I fear I do not often have time to spend here," he said as he laid a few blankets down and set the basket aside near the fire. "Have a seat if you wish."

  Tentatively, she chose a spot and sat down. She could see the gatehouse from her seat. The drawbridge was up and secured. She could also see the roof of the solar and tried to imagine how it had been built. Men trod along the top of the new stone walls. Smoke billowed from the kitchens, and several horses were being led from the stable. A quiet yet busy hum gave the castle a sense of hominess.

  As if reading her mind, he told her the story of how the original living space had been erected where they sat, but was moved and rebuilt into the side of the hill. It offered more warmth and more protection. He spoke of the first William's desire to dot the countryside with stone fortresses and now that his son was on the throne, that dream had been fulfilled.

  "It will not always be this way," he said and shrugged, speaking of the hall and living quarters. "I have plans to rebuild the hall and solar in the same spot, but with stone. Wood burns too easily and does not hold heat well. A donjon made with solid rock will be superior."

  Forgetting for a moment she was sitting with the man she was supposed to marry, she allowed herself to envision the solar and the great hall below it made with stone. His warm voice and enthusiasm made her excited to see the end result. That startling thought pushed her back into reality. If she had her way, she would not be here to see it.

  "How long would that take?" she asked.

  "Long enough, depending on how many people I have to help build," he replied as he reached into the basket. "I should think a summer. I'll have to build a temporary hall while the construction takes place, unless I decide to move the donjon. I rather like it where it is. What do you think?"

  "Me? Milord? Surely you are not asking my opinion," she said, shock registering on her face.

  "This is to be your home too. The children we will have together will call Cuxton home."

  She did not know what to say. Claude would have never asked her opinion, let alone let her in on what he intended to do. She marveled at the strange feeling of being appreciated. It conflicted with the sting she felt when he mentioned children coming from their union.

  "Stone would be beautiful." She took a deep breath, trying to push the image of children aside.

  "Rayne, this is to be your home. You can state your opinion other than telling me the new hall will look nice."

  "I am afraid I do not know what to say, milord," she said.

  "My name is Andre."

  She nodded.

  He stopped what he was doing and studied her face. "Are you frightened of me? I thought we should spend some time talking. We should have a conversation. To have such a conversation, two people must speak. Otherwise, it is just me rambling along to a captive audience."

  Despite her predicament, she laughed. He was right, of course. "I am sorry. I am not used to having a say in anything. No one asks my opinion nor do such matters concern a mere woman such as myself."

  He returned to the basket, laying out enough food for six people. Vegetables, salted venison, tarts, cold capon, some type of preserved fruit salad, and hunks of cheese came out of the basket along with two skins of wine. "Forgive the meager fare. I gave Helga little notice."

  "'Tis more than enough," she said.

  "Good. Then, back to the matter at hand. Do you think the hall and solar should stay in the same place, or shall we move it? I could flatten this mound and build anew. There are plenty of options."

  "I should think moving it would be a better option. 'Twould save you from building temporary quarters. Do you have access to enough men?"

  "I have double the soldiers I need. Peace is uncertain right now, and I need to protect Cuxton as well as the village below. Those soldiers can be counted on as builders if I need them."

  Rayne nodded. She eyed the food but dared not reach out.

  "Eat," he said softly when he noticed her hesitation.

  She grabbed a leg of capon and nodded in thanks.

  "Now we have that out of the way, there are other things we should discuss. Like the children. I want you to meet them. They are good boys. I want to know you will be fair with them. I have no idea how much they understand their situation. I try to keep things as calm for them as I can. There is plenty of time later in life to deal with chaos."

  "Of course I will be fair," she said, putting down her food while reaching for her wine. "They are children. Why would you think otherwise?"

  "Their mother was not right in the head," he said, "quite mad, if you will. You have not been exactly stable since your arrival. I know that is harsh, but while they are not my boys, I want what is best for them. They are too young to understand what happened to their mother and as such, they are vulnerable."

  "I would be kind."

  "I think I already know that. They deserve protection and stability. I know nothing of their father other than he died after a long illness. Geva doted on them when she first arrived, but she became increasingly erratic and began to ignore them. She left them with their nursemaid for longer periods of time until it came to the point where she never saw them. I would find her out walking along the wall, touching the stones, and muttering about the boys, but she
never spoke to them. It was quite odd. She would leave unusual gifts like bunches of twigs or rocks outside the nursery, but she never went in. I do not want that for them again."

  Reaching out, Rayne rested her hand on his arm momentarily, "I understand. No matter what my problems, I would never wish to harm a child in any way."

  Her answer seemed to mollify him, and he went on to talk about something else. "And of us, Lady Rayne? How do you feel about our impending marriage?"

  "I…"

  Andre stared off into the distance for a moment and then took a long draught of his wine. "I do not know much about you, and I fear you do not want to share."

  "I have not enjoyed my life thus far," she said. "I see no reason to expect anything different in the future."

  "Your husband, Claude, was unkind. Odo told me as much. Did he hit you?"

  "'Tis a woman's lot in life. We obey our husbands. If we do not, we are punished."

  Andre tossed a bone into the flames, and his eyes settled on her. "No woman should be harmed as he harmed you. Do you understand that? I do not care what you do or what you say, you never have to fear of that again. Not all men hit their wives, Rayne. I will not have you afraid here!"

  Rayne cringed. He instantly lowered his voice. With a shake of the head he said, "Raising my voice is about as much bluster as you will get from me. My anger is with him, not you."

  "But, they say you pushed her!" she blurted out. Her hand flew up over her mouth, as if to stop more thoughtlessness from spewing out.

  Instead of exploding, as Claude would have done, Andre chuckled.

  "'Tis funny?"

  "Aye, 'tis funny. I have heard that since the day she died. I know her death was of her own hand. I feel no need to answer to anyone. Those here who may fear me are free to leave."

  "That is an impressive view, milord."

  "I asked you to call me Andre."

  "Andre, then."

  He leaned back, reclining with his strong arms planted behind him. He glanced into the fire and then back to her. "There is something else."

  "Aye?"

  "I mean about you. You are hiding something from me."

  Rayne shook her head. "You are mistaken." She was not going to tell him about her babies. She could not say the words aloud. This man was a stranger, though one who became more real to her each passing hour. Her stomach turned at the thought of baring her soul to him. That part of her heart was closed and also the reason she must go.

  "Very well, then. You'll tell me when you are ready."

  A breeze kicked up and she pulled her cloak tightly around her shoulders, shuddering for a moment. He was so different from the night before. He was calm, and he did not mention her stroll with Odo. She was relieved, and wished to put the dreadfulness behind her.

  Andre reached out and tossed a log onto the fire. The flames shuttered for a moment and then burst upwards as the new wood caught fire. "Are you too cold? Do you wish to go in?"

  She let out a long breath and gazed back out over the wall toward the woods beyond. The view was magnificent, even though the trees were still mostly bare. Finally, she spoke, "Nay, not too cold. I like it here."

  "What can I do to earn your trust?" She heard an earnestness in his voice which made her heart ache. Indeed, it was not him or anyone in particular. It was herself she did not trust.

  "I do not know how to trust," she admitted, rolling a stone with the tip of her slipper. "I just know I only have myself to thank for my worries and my pain. I do not wish to burden you."

  "You are not pleased to be here." It was a statement, not a question.

  "I fear marriage," she said, "and I do not know who I am any longer. 'Tis nothing to do with you or Cuxton."

  "You are a beautiful woman, Rayne, and I think, a kind one. A person with a black heart can never be as lovely as you. The inner person shines through. Physical beauty is a matter of birth, highlighted by what can only be a good heart. You deserve some happiness. Is that too much for you to believe?"

  Tears pooled in her eyes, blurring her vision. "Aye, too much," she managed to say.

  He reached out and took her hand in his. His touch was soft and gentle. It felt right. Rayne started to panic because she could not allow this, not now. She was starting to enjoy his company, and that flew in the face of all she had planned. Loving him or even liking him was not an option.

  Andre moved closer to her. His body was mere inches from hers as he lifted his other hand and slowly tilted her face toward his. Cupping her cheek, he wiped away a tear with his thumb. "You have no idea how fascinating you are," he whispered.

  Involuntarily, her eyes closed and she tilted her chin up. She felt his soft lips brush hers and she started to tremble. The short, light touch of his mouth stirred something in her. A young maiden's dream of love, of being loved and cherished, welled up from a place where she had hidden her hopes a long time ago. She returned his kiss, but just for a moment.

  Her eyes flew open, and she pulled her head back. This was all wrong. This was not how this was supposed to happen. In a rush to break the spell, she stammered out the first thing she thought of, "Someone will see us! Odo may come."

  An expression of disbelief washed across his features and was replaced by irritation. "Odo? What has he to do with this? He is my guest but hardly has a say in what I do with you."

  "You…" she stumbled over her words, "you… he is your…"

  Andre stood and stepped away from her. He stared down at her, but she could no longer read his face. "Do your affections lie with Odo, Lady Rayne?"

  "Nay!" she said as she scrambled from the ground. "He is but an old friend, I told you."

  "He is a man of God. I should hope that would stop you from cavorting with him," he said, his tone harsh.

  "Oh!" she said, desperate to be away from him. They stood frozen in time, eyes locked. The next thing she heard was the sound of laughter. She whipped her head toward the sound. The sun was setting, and the sky was awash with a riot of colors to the west. Below them, near the apple trees by the far wall, was a woman playing with two children. Their blond curls glistened in the fading sun.

  "Jenri and Hamon," he said without preamble.

  The children were too far away for her to see clearly, but there they were. They were laughing and running in circles playing a game with each other. She tore her eyes from the sight of them and raced down the path, leaving Andre behind.

  Everything was wrong. She should have never come no matter what William commanded. Her heart was in danger, and she was falling faster than she ever thought possible. It was becoming more apparent she had to get out now or she might never want to leave.

  ****

  Tillie. He had to find Tillie so she could fill in the blanks. She would do it or she could leave for all he was concerned. He cared not for tossing defenseless women out to be left to their own devices, but he had no problem sending her back to London. He searched the solar for the woman, starting with Rayne's quarters. The room was empty. Where Rayne had gone he could not guess.

  When he finally found Tillie, the older woman was walking by the outer wall, all by herself. She was anxious and was walking in no particular direction, at least so it seemed.

  "You there," Andre said, "stop."

  Tillie stopped and spun around, her eyes wide with fright. She relaxed some when she saw him, but she still wrung her hands.

  "What can I do for you, milord?"

  "You are going to tell me what bedevils Lady Rayne," he said.

  "I do not understand," she began as her cheeks reddened under his scrutiny.

  "You know her better than anyone. She is distrustful of men, and I understand why. However, there is something else she hides. What is it? I cannot help her adjust to her new life unless she opens up to me. If she won't tell me, I know you will."

  "You cannot ask me such things," Tillie said with rising alarm. "Milady's secrets are hers to keep."

  "Not if they keep her running from me like a
frightened hare. She is to be my wife, and I must know."

  "She should tell you in her own time," Tillie said as she backed up against the wall. Lines formed in her forehead.

  "You try my patience, old woman."

  Understanding little of what had happened between him and Rayne that day, Tillie answered. "What troubles you, milord? That may help me answer your question."

  Andre longed to throw his hands up in defeat, but he could not. This one was as difficult and mysterious as his wife-to-be. "I have a right to know what goes on in my home and what I must do to protect those who live here. How can I help her if she does not let me know what bothers her so? I have given her no reason to fear me."

  "Nay, you have been most kind to her," she said. "All I can say is the lady has seen much tragedy, and none of it was of her own making. She suffered great losses and does not recover. Those losses are the reason she resists you. Please do not make me tell you, milord, for she has to have one person she can trust beyond measure. Do not take that from her."

  Andre heaved a sigh. Of course, the woman was right. Forcing things from Tillie was not the way to go. "You have a point," he conceded. "I will leave you be."

  Before he could go, she spoke again. "Give her time and patience. Mayhap she will tell you herself. If you truly wish to build trust with her, 'tis the only way you should learn about her past. She means no harm and has been through much. Some of it, I fear, even she does not yet realize."

  Andre nodded and walked away. Without thinking, he went toward the stables. He needed a ride to clear his head. Tillie was right. It would be trying, but he would be as patient as he could. He was starting to enjoy his time with Rayne, even looking forward to seeing her, hoping she was just around the bend each time he went about the castle. They could not, however, go on like this forever.

  Her beauty was fresh and haunting, hinting at the woman she could be. Whatever had stomped the life from her was sitting on her soul, and he would give anything to lift the burden for her. If only she would let him and then they could begin anew. She was a woman worth loving. He had long denied love existed, but she was challenging everything he thought to be real.