The Norman's Bride

by TERRI BRISBIN

  After meeting and learning the Royce who had saved her life, she had no idea of the passion that lived within him. She guessed that he’d been keeping all of it inside and denying himself the simple joys of living for the three years he’d been here. Now he seemed to be trying to release all of it on her.

  Not that she was complaining. She would take it all.

  “What I really need, Lady Rosamunde, is a nap.”

  That made Rosamunde laugh, but Isabel was serious. Mayhap with Royce gone for the day, she would get some rest. To recover from and to prepare for his ardent wooing.

  As they reached the gate, Isabel realized she’d left her handkerchief back at the well. She told Rosamunde that she would return shortly and went back to get it. It was where she had left it and, after tucking it back in her sleeve, Isabel headed to the keep. The small entourage leaving through the gates surprised her for she knew of no visitors.

  She dismissed her concern until she heard the laughter of one of the ladies in the party. The woman turned to one of her companions, said something and laughed again. In a moment they were on the north road and too far for her to see again.

  What was Alianor doing here, so far from her home in Hexham?

  She began to shake uncontrollably and tears filled her eyes to overflow. The tremors grew stronger until she could not breathe.

  Alianor…her sister…

  She…was…Anne.

  Anne.

  Daughter of Charles and Marie.

  Sister of Alianor and Guillaume and the late Robert.

  Wife of Edward.

  Of Allonby.

  Her life came back to her in a momentary flash. Childhood, womanhood, marriage, the attack. All of it. Her family. Anne blinked as images froze for a second and then were replaced by another. Everything she’d told Royce and the others was completed by the rest of her life.

  Everything.

  Edward was dead. She saw his face as he landed next to her on the ground. He glanced over at Culbert, his half brother who held the bloodied sword.

  Culbert gained much with Edward’s death—his wife already carried their heir in her belly. Stupid, stupid Edward! To put his trust in such a man was the stupidest thing he’d ever done.

  Her father would seek vengeance for her “death” and regain the lands he’d given to Edward’s family as part of her settlement. There would be war after all between Richmond and Lancaster.

  Her husband was dead. She needed to tell Royce that she was free to marry. They could…she was…

  Barren.

  The word sliced through her. Taunts and insults and punishments and prayers jumbled together. One babe lost then nothing. She was empty of life.

  Empty.

  Anne gasped for breath and stumbled away from the keep. She needed to gather her thoughts and tell Royce everything. He would guide her in this. Glancing around, she knew where she had to go. He would find her there and know what to do. He would help her follow her sister and reclaim her life.

  He would know.

  William knew in his soul that something was wrong as soon as he entered the keep. A chill ran through him and he knew that it was over. Seeking out Orrick, he found him with Margaret in the solar. From their grim expressions, he’d been found out.

  “You had a visitor today, Royce.” Orrick put emphasis on his adopted name, letting him know how angry the lord was.

  “A visitor, my lord? Who?” Why he carried on this charade he did not know. He rubbed his face and prepared for the worst.

  “The lady Alianor of Hexham came looking for news of her sister. It seems that you spoke with her at length and promised to seek out news and return to her at the abbey.” Orrick stood and walked over to him. “But you know all of that, do you not?”

  “I do. Orrick…” At his fierce glance, William began anew. “My lord, I would explain.”

  “You have not told Isabel anything, have you?” Lady Margaret broke in. “Not your past and not her own?”

  “Her name is Anne, daughter of Charles of Richmond and wife of the late Edward of Allonby, Lancaster’s nephew.”

  His words gave them pause and they exchanged several looks before saying anything.

  “Does she know? Have you told her?” Lady Margaret asked.

  “No, my lady. I’ve said nothing of meeting with Alianor. She knows not. I just wanted more time…” he said as a way of explaining his behavior. “I knew her sister would come to claim her and that she will leave. I just wanted to hold her for a few more days. I wanted to be Royce and Isabel, who had a chance for happiness and not William and Anne who have none.”

  He turned to leave. He must find her and give her her life back. And lose her forever. “Where is she?”

  “Lady Rosamunde said she complained of being tired and needing some rest and then she saw her no more. She is not in her chamber so…” Her words drifted off. They all knew where she had gone.

  William left the keep and retrieved a horse from the stables. He felt his heart dying within him as he thought of the coming hours. What had he learned from this? That the Fates conspired against him? That he had no right to happiness or a life of his own after sinning as he had? That some cruel deity had given him a taste of what he was missing and then taken it from him?

  Soon he stood before the cottage. No light shone within; no sounds came from it. But he felt her presence there. Opening the door, he stepped inside. He could see her sitting on the chair, on her chair. She said nothing and he could find no words to begin.

  “I’ve been waiting for you, Royce. There is much to tell you.”

  “Why do you sit in the dark? Let me light a candle.” He went to the cupboard, drew out a candle and lit it with the flint. Setting it in a holder on the table, William turned to face her. Her head was uncovered, her hair loose and hanging in disarray over her shoulders. The worst were her tear-swollen eyes. “Isabel,” he whispered for the last time.

  “My name is Anne,” she said. “Anne of Allonby.” Waiting for his reaction, she smiled and continued. “My father is the duke of Richmond and my sister, my twin sister, Alianor is a countess.” Before he could force any words out, she cried out, “My memory is returned to me, Royce! I can have my life back.”

  She stood and ran to him and threw her arms around him. His hands itched to touch her, his arms ached to embrace her, but he would not. At his lack of response, she drew back and frowned.

  “Did you not hear me? I can remember everything. Everything!” She began to chatter in her excitement and he waited. “My sister was here today. I saw her leaving the village and all of my memories flooded back over me. We are twins except that we are not identical—she is light and I am dark. She had two sons.”

  Then she stopped and looked at him. She flinched as the truth seeped into her. “Royce? You knew? You knew who I was?”

  “Isabel, I…”

  “Anne. My name is Anne.” Tears flowed again and her lip trembled as she accused him of his first sin. “How long have you known?”

  He did take her by the arms now and tried to pull her close. She resisted him for the first time. “I only learned it last week, Isabel…Anne. Your sister came seeking you and I heard her story, your story. I wanted to tell you, but…”

  “But?”

  She looked at him with a glimmer of hope in her eyes. He would give her none for there was none to give in this.

  “I did not want this to end.” He let his gaze pass over the room so that she thought he meant the sexual part of what they shared.

  She gasped and stumbled away. “You knew and you kept it from me so that you could continue to seek your pleasures with me? Like a common whore?” She sobbed out to him in pain. “Why? We could be together. My father—”

  “It is over, Anne. There can be nothing more for us.”

  “But Royce, it does not have to end here. You could return with me.”

  “I cannot return with you.”

  “You can. My father will let me marry you. Yo
u were a knight. I am sure you are from a good family. Once he knows who you are…once you tell me who you really are…we can make arrangements.”

  He shook his head. “I cannot tell you of my past, Anne. And I cannot go back with you.”

  “Royce, we can marry and—” She stopped and looked on him with anger. “You never intended marriage? This was all a pretense?”

  “I did intend marriage.” His voice sounded wooden and rigid even to him. But he forced the feelings deep inside him and would not let them out. He would not do this again. He could not survive having hope and seeing it killed this way. And at such a cost to him and to her.

  “When? When did you stop?” Anne’s sobs turned to a gasp. “When you met my sister? She told you, did she not? The reason my husband wanted me dead. I am barren.”

  He felt the agony of her despair as she once more accepted the guilt placed on her by a husband who wanted her dead. He saw her buckle under the weight of her failure as a woman to conceive and carry a child, an heir, for her husband. He watched her personality shrink from the lively and vigorous Isabel back to the taunted and unwanted Anne. And he did nothing.

  Tell her! Tell her you would take her without children. Trust her with your truths. Her love is strong enough.

  The words vibrated inside his head and he wanted to tell her. Her anger, he could bear. It would help her to get away from him. But the revulsion and horror and hatred she would feel would be unbearable. No, this way was better.

  “You asked me once if I knew in my heart of any impediments to our marriage,” she whispered. “Now I know there is one.”

  “Come,” he said, reaching out to take his hand. “Lord Orrick will make arrangements for you to meet up with your sister. She said she will be waiting in Thursby for another day before returning to Hexham.”

  She backed away from him, not allowing his touch. ’Twas just as well. “And you? What will you do now?”

  “I will submit myself to Orrick’s justice for betraying his trust.”

  Lying became easier when it was practiced and that one slid smoothly out of his mouth. ’Twould be gentler to let her think his word to his lord meant more than his word to her. It would separate them faster.

  Anne held herself from him but followed him outside. He knew she would not let him hold her in front of him on the horse, so he mounted and pulled her up to ride pillion behind him. As they headed toward Silloth Keep, she touched him as little as possible, only enough to keep her on the horse.

  He escorted her to the solar and she walked silently at his side into the chamber. One more duty and it would be over.

  “Lord Orrick. Lady Margaret. May I present to you the lady Anne of Allonby, daughter of Charles, the Duke of Richmond?”

  He did not look back. He closed the door to the solar and walked out into the night. Back into the darkness he deserved.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Her words came to him on the second day he could remember after Isabel, she would always be Isabel to him, left. He was washing off the filth he’d collected as he’d drunk and vomited and drunk some more seeking a way out of his pain. After finishing up Connor’s brew, the pain had stopped and the haze caused by the liquor continued to keep it at bay.

  Unfortunately, Orrick sought him at that time and demanded he return to his duties. Connor was the enforcer of Orrick’s will and William found himself dragged to the kitchens, stripped to his skin, and dumped into a steaming vat of water. Then his head was dunked under the water and held there until he fought back. Once Connor was convinced William was awake, he turned him over to the servants for cleaning.

  He submitted mostly because he lacked the strength to fight back. And because he did not care about what he wore or did not, what he ate or did not, whether he slept or did not. None of this mattered any longer.

  His face and neck were scraped of the beard he’d worn and his skin burned from it. Splashing water on it to cool the burn, he heard Alianor’s words in his mind.

  My lord husband has sent along enough guards to protect the entire kingdom from an invading army.

  But they could not protect her from a lone assassin.

  He jumped from the tub and grabbed the drying cloth as he did. Alianor was being followed and, if Anne joined her, they were both in danger. William raced through the kitchens, up to his chambers and quickly dressed. He must find Orrick and leave immediately. It could already be too late.

  Anne’s appearance and return from the dead sent Alianor into a faint. Her ladies fluttered around them, bringing a cool cloth and a cup of ale and anything else they thought might revive her. Anne waited and then shooed them all out of the room so that her reunion could be a private one. But not before urging them to keep her identity and her presence there a secret.

  That suggestion came from Lady Margaret, who grasped the danger that could still exist if her existence was revealed without an appropriate level of security. After meeting Alianor in Thursby, the plan was to continue on to the convent of Saint Mary Magdalene and to wait there while Alianor summoned her husband. With the protection of the earl, her survival could be announced and then the guilty person could be charged.

  But, first, she had to see her sister. Alianor had been placed on a pallet and Anne sat next to her waiting. Her hands shook as she readied herself to see the one person closer to her than anyone else. What would she say?

  Nigh to five years had passed since she’d seen or spoken to Alianor. Their weddings began the separation and then Edward had completed it in more ways than just not permitting visits. As her problems conceiving and bearing a child for him became known, he made certain she knew of her sister’s success. And that he had desired her sister over her and only agreed to marry her for the land that was returned by her father.

  After hearing it over and over from him and from his mother as well, Anne knew that part of her began to hate her sister. Oh, she’d fought it at first, even losing control and telling Edward how much Alianor feared him and that she had taken her place. She’d placed another powerful weapon in their hands and they’d used it against her relentlessly.

  She, a mere woman, had dared to intervene in the dealings of men? She had interfered with God’s plans and those of her betters and her barren condition was God’s punishment for her haughty arrogance. She must be punished for and cleansed of her insubordination before God would grant her a child.

  She shook her head, ridding herself of those thoughts. Anne may have accepted that during their marriage, after her resistance and her will was beaten down, but she knew now it did not have to be that way between husbands and wives. Alianor’s presence here, even that her husband permitted her to travel without him across England on her belief alone, was proof that love and trust could co-exist in marriage.

  A gasp told her that Alianor was awake.

  They stared at each other for moments before the tears erupted and then Anne was clasped so tightly by Alianor that she thought she might pass out. It went on for several minutes, the crying and hugging, the murmured words of lost sisters and praise that she was alive. Finally, when all their tears had been cried, they were able to talk. Alianor would not let go of her hand.

  A few hours passed as they caught each up on what had happened and Alianor filled in even more gaps in her knowledge, especially of happenings since Anne’s disappearance and accepted death. Anne marveled at her strength of spirit and fierce determination to seek revenge on her behalf for all the wrongs done to her. The pain and suffering she’d suffered at Edward’s hands had served a purpose—they had protected and saved Alianor from becoming the unspirited wife of a controlling husband. She knew in her heart that Alianor had become the person she was now because she had married Guy instead.

  When the talk came around to the most recent months of her life, Anne found it difficult to reveal what was so painful to her. In spite of promising herself that she would not say his name, her sister had wheedled it out of her and then held her as she cried out he
r sorrow.

  Day became night and still they talked. Plans were made and a messenger was sent to Hexham, requesting Guy meet them at the convent outside Carlisle. No reason was given, but with a blush, Alianor assured her that none was necessary. No one outside her ladies was told anything but that Lady “Isabel” was traveling back with them, continuing the masquerade until Guy’s counsel and protection was attained.

  Since the next day would be a difficult and full traveling day, they retired early. Alianor insisted that they share the chamber and Anne did, feeling stronger just with her support and presence. The day dawned sunny and clear, which Anne took as a good sign.

  They were making good time toward the convent when the commotion began in the rear of their party. Hexham’s men-at-arms encircled the women of the group and took a defensive position as Alianor’s commander investigated the disturbance. He returned some time later and escorted a small group and two dead bodies to Alianor. Anne watched as Royce, Connor and two other of Orrick’s men came into view. Unable to look at him without pain, Anne focused her eyes and ears on Alianor.

  “My lady,” her commander began. “These men are from—”

  “Lord Orrick of Silloth. Who are these men? Yours, Sir Royce?” Alianor demanded. Anne recognized the anger in her tone and feared it was on her behalf.

  Royce moved forward and bowed from his horse. “Nay, my lady. We found them following you, preparing an attack from behind.”

  Alianor’s brows rose as she considered this. “How did you know of them?”

  “Your words, my lady, when last we spoke. You mentioned that your husband had sent along enough guards to fend off an invading army. I realized that a lone assassin can be more effective at hitting a target and hiding in the forest.”

  “’Twould seem you were correct and you have my thanks. And, Lady Isabel’s as well, I am certain.”

  Why had she done that? Anne wanted to fade into the trees and not be seen at all. And especially not by him. All she could do was nod and not meet his gaze.

  “Isabel, are you familiar with either of these men?” At Alianor’s wave, a guard turned the dead men over so she could see their faces. Anne gasped as she recognized one of the men from the night of her attack. “Marie? Is this not the man we noticed at the abbey?” Her lady nodded and she looked at Anne. “’Twould seem that discretion is still not a trait of mine. My purpose has been discovered and I have jeopardized you once more.”