Conquering William

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Conquering William Page 15

by Sarah Hegger


  “It is in God’s hands.”

  William pressed down the now familiar surge of irritation. “I have heard rather too much of God and His will since coming to Tarnwych. Between that blasted nun and Alice, it is all I ever hear.”

  “How fares Lady Alice?” Gregory upended the water gourd over his head.

  “I threatened her.” Shame snuck around his righteous anger and pricked at him. His father had raised him better than to thunder and rail at a woman, no matter how justified.

  Gregory stared at him. “That is not like you.”

  “Nay.” William had never lost his temper so spectacularly with a woman before. He had behaved badly, but Alice’s reaction to Mathew had pushed him beyond reason. “Mathew is precious to all of us.”

  “I suspect there is more to this than first appears,” Gregory said.

  Always the watcher, Gregory kept his lips fastened and his eyes wide open. “What do you mean?”

  “Her reaction.” Gregory frowned and rested his head against the wall. “She was terrified. Beyond reason terrified.”

  “Of Mathew?” His ire gave a tired stir. “Who, in God’s name, is terrified of Mathew? Unless they regard him as evil.”

  “Nay.” Gregory shrugged. “It was not that sort of fear. It was something…else. I know not, but a wise man would find out.”

  William gave a rueful laugh. He did not judge himself a very wise man at this moment.

  Chapter 15

  Skulking into her own hall to break her fast the next morning sat ill with Alice. Where William had spent the night, she knew not, but he had not spent it with her. She had lain awake and kept the fire fed until well past when the watch called midnight. As she lay she tortured herself with every flirtatious glance tossed William’s way, every coy giggle that had greeted him since his arrival at Tarnwych.

  Lively noise rose from about her as she threaded her way through the tables. As if they knew of her chastisement, Tarnwych folk cast her sympathetic stares as she passed. Despite that, William’s presence at Tarnwych had changed the hall. Not just the inclusion of the men adding a low bass murmur, but the general air of conviviality amongst those gathered for a meal. Someone who had grown up in such a hall must find it commonplace, but it lifted her spirits a bit.

  Domnall rose from where he sat amidst his brothers. “Lady Alice.”

  “Good morrow, Domnall.”

  He thumped his chest. “We wanted you to know, the lads and I”—he swept his brothers with one large hand—“we stand beside you.”

  Aonghas’s sons all nodded to her. What must they have heard of her altercation with William? She could not very well drive the keep against itself, but their support bolstered her spirits. And she needed it, because the Anglesea clan arrayed in strength this morning.

  William sat at table, with Beatrice to his left and Ivy beyond her. William leaned forward to speak to Ivy. Ivy colored and laughed.

  William appeared very fond of Ivy. What man would not esteem Ivy with her dark hair, pale skin, and eyes the most arresting shade of green, nestled between thick, dark lashes? Only a stupid woman believed her husband did not notice lovelier women about him.

  Fa, la, la, la, la.

  Beatrice’s boys sat beside Gregory on William’s right side, with a gap left in the middle for her. No Mathew. All four males rose as they caught sight of her. Clearly, his anger did not upset his manners because William assisted her as she took her place.

  Alice’s stomach clenched in rejection of the bowl of stewed fruit placed before her.

  Stiff as wood, William sat beside her, his head turned to speak with his sister and Ivy.

  “The weather looks dismal this morning,” Gregory said.

  Sure enough, broody pewter clouds disgorged a steady trickle from beyond the hall casement. Wind played willy-nilly with the heather plants and flattened the scrubby, brown grass to the soggy soil. Other than a miserable day, it meant the majority of people would be confined to the keep today.

  Alice handed her untouched bowl to the serving woman. With winter fast approaching, one dreary day could stretch into a sennight or even more. An entire sennight trapped inside with her angry in-laws.

  “It is fairly typical for this time of year,” Alice said.

  Gregory pushed a cheese board closer to her. He cut her a slice and placed it on a hunk of bread before handing it to her. “I should leave soon. I want to reach Calder Castle before the worst of it arrives.”

  Alice shook her head.

  Gregory kept the bread and cheese out held.

  “Your wife is there?” Alice took his offering and nibbled on it.

  “Aye, and our two boys. Faye is due to deliver her child any day now.” Love for his family filled Gregory’s voice.

  What young girl hadn’t dreamed of finding a strong, handsome knight to dote on her? Alice put her meal down. Such silly dreams young girls had, and three marriages should have rid her of them by now.

  “The Anglesea folk are not like most,” Gregory said.

  Did Gregory offer her comfort or information?

  A breathtaking smile transformed Gregory’s face to graven beauty. “They do things a mite differently, and it can take some time to grow accustomed to them.”

  “Are you?” Alice leant a little closer and lowered her voice. “Are you accustomed to them?”

  “Aye.” Gregory nodded. “They are very close and the love between them is clear to any who see them. They do not mean it as such, but it can often make one feel as if one sat on the outside.”

  As if Gregory had pulled the thought straight from her mind.

  “It also makes them very protective of one another,” Gregory said. “And Mathew is one who requires all of their protection.”

  Too afraid to ask where Mathew broke his fast this morning, she nodded.

  “But they are good people.” Gregory handed her a slice of ham. “Quick to anger and easy to forgive, and they embrace any who need them.”

  “Like Ivy?”

  “Aye, like Ivy.”

  “Is she—” Alice could not ask what Ivy was or had been to William, no matter how hot the questions burned inside her.

  Gregory chewed his own ham, and swallowed. “Ivy’s story is her own to tell, but she has not had an easy time of it. She and Beatrice share a special bond, along with young Thomas, who was with Beatrice when she rescued Ivy. I believe the bond between Ivy and Thomas to be especially close, although neither of them have admitted as much.”

  Did Gregory reassure her about William?

  “Will we go riding today?” Richard tugged on Gregory’s sleeve.

  “Nay, lad.” William stood and climbed over the bench. “But I am sure we can find something else to do, right here in the hall.”

  “Inside.” Richard’s voice rose on an unhappy wail.

  “Unless you want to get wetter than a duck,” William said.

  He led both boys to the hearth.

  Beatrice rose and joined them, and then Ivy.

  Gregory excused himself and left the hall.

  Serving men dismantled the trestle tables and returned them with the benches to the side of the hall. Alice should rise and let them take this table away.

  Before the hearth, the Anglesea family played a game together. It seemed to involve a lot of whispering and laughter. William raised his arms and roared. The boys shrieked and hid behind their mother, grins splitting their little faces. William stomped from foot to foot with his arms above his head.

  Gregory had spoken true. As clear as ropes their loving bonds tied them together. And they offered her no rope to take up.

  She did not deserve one after what had happened yesterday. For a short few weeks she had been part of them because of William. Now, she sat on the outside and watched. Not too different from her childhood. Sat beside her casement and stared out at the children playing in the bailey. A lord’s daughter did not play with the keep children.
Clearly, the same held for the lady of the lord.

  Her self-pity turned her stomach. Alice stood and left the hall, her new duties sufficient to keep her from dwelling on the past.

  * * * *

  Alice punched her pillow into a more comfortable shape. Nights stretched very long when you spent them wondering where your husband slept, or even if he slept, and if he would ever return to your bed.

  She missed so much about William sharing her chamber. Their marital relations, for certain, but also the quiet talks in the wee hours, and the way William would tease her about what she wore in the morning. The last two mornings had been dismal, lonely affairs.

  Sister had not visited her either since their altercation the other day. Alice heaved onto her back. The canopy needed replacing, threadbare in places with the color dulled by age. She amassed enemies with every conversation she had. Or non-conversation. Beatrice looked right through her when they met. Ivy, in one of those twists that left Alice shaking her head, greeted her with a friendly smile and a few words. As for William…

  She sat up and wrapped her arms around her legs. Flames flickered golden and orange across the logs in the hearth. William’s infernal politeness stung the worst. He rose when she approached, assisted her to sit, opened doors for her, greeted her when he saw her. All with a cold, distant look in his beautiful eyes. Who knew a girl could want to scream at a man for his unflagging manners?

  Alice wrapped her arms tighter and rested her cheek against her knees. With her other husbands she had been relieved when they sought other company and left her alone. How had William charmed his way into her life so fast? These two days removed from him had served as a bitter lesson in how far he had wriggled beneath her skin. With William, she could catch tantalizing glimpses of a future filled with laughter and happiness, snatches of a life fulfilled and joyous. They left her ravenous for more of the same.

  She needed to fix this rift with William. Aye, he may reject her overtures, but the promise of a richer life merited the risk. On the morrow, then, she would find a way to make this right. By tomorrow night, she might not sit alone in her bed anymore.

  A knock at the door jerked her out of her heated imaginings. William? Although she had yet to hear him knock.

  Heart thundering, she called out, “Who is there?”

  “It is I, Cedric.” Alice’s heart sank. “I think you should come, my lady.”

  Alice slid out of bed. Her bare feet hit the cold floor and she walked faster. Cracking the door open she peered around it. “What is it?”

  “It is Sister Julianna, my lady. Sir Gregory found her in the chapel and sent me for you.”

  “Sister?” Cedric’s brow puckered in a frown, his gaze uneasy. Alice could not bring herself to voice the ultimate fear. “Is she ill?”

  “Come, my lady.” Cedric stepped back into the hallway and motioned her to follow.

  Alice snatched a cloak and a pair of slippers before joining him in the hallway.

  Around them, the keep lay still. Few tapers burned in the narrow corridors as she followed Cedric down the stairs, through the hall, and into the chapel at the far end.

  Sir Gregory appeared out of the gloom, setting Alice’s heart pounding.

  “Good lad.” He clapped Cedric on the shoulder. “Now find your pallet for the night. Lady Alice and I will deal with this.”

  “Deal with what?” Alice trailed Gregory down the central aisle of the chapel.

  “I came to the chapel to complete my evening devotions and found her,” Sir Gregory said.

  Supine before the altar lay a slim form. Bare feet poked out from beneath Sister’s shapeless, linen shift.

  Alice took a step closer. Sister often served a night thus in prayer, but the shift’s shredded back bore dull, russet stains.

  Alice froze and stared, her mind not able to make sense of what she saw.

  Gregory stood beside her. “I do not know how long she has lain thus, but I fear she may be feverish.”

  “Sister?” Alice sank to her knees beside Sister. “Sister Julianna?”

  Sister raised her head. A bright flush of color gave Sister the appearance of good health, until you looked into the dull, listless sheen of her eyes. “My lord has blessed me with my punishment.”

  “What?” Alice glanced at Gregory. Dear God, could someone help her make sense of this? “What have you done, Sister?”

  “Penance.” Sister dropped her forehead back to the floor.

  Gregory crouched beside Alice. “I think she has been mortifying her flesh.” He pointed at Sister’s back. Deep, crusted lines crisscrossed her skin. “Those look like whip marks to me.”

  “But why?” Alice laid her fingers against Sister’s nape. Heat and damp confirmed Gregory’s fears.

  “Only she knows why,” Gregory said. “I attempted to help her, but she insists on remaining here. That is why I sent Cedric for you.” His grave gaze met hers. “She needs to be treated, Lady Alice. At her age, she cannot be left here in this condition.”

  Alice knew nothing of tending the sick. Sister attended to that. She did not know what to do. Surely any touch would be agonizing to Sister. Encrusted with dried blood, the wounds on her back stuck her linen shift to their edges. Cleaning those wounds would cause untold pain.

  Clean the wounds. She had the first step. And to clean them, she needed to get Sister to a bed. “Sister.” She brushed an unmarred part of Sister’s shoulder. “Can you rise?”

  “I cannot.” The position of her head muffled Sister’s voice. “Penance. For the abomination.”

  “Sister.” Alice gave her a tiny shake. “You are ill, and we need to see you tended.”

  “The Lord has visited his judgment on me for my sins.”

  Alice hoped against hope Gregory would have some suggestion.

  Gregory shrugged.

  “Sister.” Alice applied a bit more force to her voice. “You are ill. You need to leave here.”

  “Holy Father, forgive me.” Sister’s shoulders rose in soft sobs. “Forgive me. Forgive this unworthy sinner.”

  Alice sent a prayer of forgiveness for herself. “He has already forgiven you, Sister.”

  Gregory’s head snapped around, and he stared at her.

  Alice made an apologetic face at him.

  “I will await my sign.” Sister’s voice grew muffled again as she recited in sing-song Latin.

  “We have already had a sign,” Alice said. She tried to compel Gregory with a look. She could do with a bit of help here.

  “Um…indeed.” Gregory grimaced at her. “I have seen it.”

  “No sign to a sinner,” muttered Sister.

  “In…the sky,” Alice said. “At sunset. I saw the clouds form the face of our Blessed Madonna.”

  Gregory raised a dark brow at her and mouthed “clouds.”

  He could very well make that face. Fine help he was being.

  “You did?” Sister raised her head.

  “Clear as the eyes on my face,” Alice said. She would confess later.

  “I saw it too.” Gregory stepped in.

  Sister shifted her head and glared at him. “Judas,” she hissed. “Peter. The one who denies our Lord.”

  Perhaps she did not need Gregory’s help after all. “I did not know you prayed,” Alice said. “I could not know at the time, but now I see it was the sign you searched for.”

  Sister frowned as if considering her words.

  Alice held her breath.

  “Nay.” Sister lowered her forehead back to the ground. “It is not the sign for which I seek. It was a sign for you, warning you from turning your head away from the Lord.”

  Sister launched back into her muttered prayers.

  Enough! Sister needed to get out of the chapel and into a bed. If she would not come willingly…“Can you lift her?”

  Gregory looked taken aback. “It will hurt her.”

  “It will kill her if we leave her here
. Is that not what you said?”

  “Aye.” Gregory shifted back with a frown. “But she does not want to be taken from here.”

  “Well, she can hardly stay here.” At her feet, Sister recited the Hail Mary. “I will ask her forgiveness once she is better.”

  “Very well.” Gregory gave her a wry smile. “She will not thank you for this. Or me.”

  Gregory fisted the back of his tunic and dragged it off, then his chemise. He flushed dark red and averted his eyes. “My apologies, Lady Alice. I need to provide some padding for her back.”

  Alice waved his apology off. Her cheeks heated. William was put together nicely, but Sir Gregory…Well, all that carved and bulging muscle made Lady Faye a very lucky woman. God forgive her for her adulterous thoughts, but surely God did not shape men like this and then condemn a woman for looking.

  He laid his clothing on Sister’s back and lifted her into his arms.

  Sister shrieked and lashed out, catching him a blow on the jaw.

  Gregory grunted and positioned Sister in such a way as he could pin her arms to her sides.

  Sister shrieked louder, her legs kicking out and raising her shift past her knees.

  Alice rearranged her shift more modestly.

  Sister abruptly slumped against Gregory’s chest.

  So be it. Alice led the way out of the chapel.

  Eyes pinched closed, Sister muttered Bible verse after Bible verse.

  Gregory bore her along as if she weighed no more than a thistle.

  Thank the Lord, her voice grew fainter and fainter.

  Sleepy faces beneath tousled heads appeared along their journey. Eventually they reached Sister’s small chamber just down the hall from Alice’s.

  Alice stripped the linens and Gregory laid down his burden. As he released her, Sister raked his forearm with her nails, leaving three long grooves. She sat up, her face contorted in rage, and hissed at him.

  Sister dropped like a stone onto her back.

  Alice flinched at the pain that caused, but Sister lay insensate.

  “I am sorry about that.” Alice gestured at Gregory’s injured arm.

  He shrugged and turned Sister on her belly. Some of her lash marks had opened in her struggle, and fresh blood oozed through Gregory’s tunic.

 

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