The Maiden's Abduction

by Juliet Landon

  showed him that. he had guessed correctly, and she was able to find

  some comfort in his earlier remark that his plans would not be changed

  by having Bard with them. The expected confrontation, however, was

  delayed by Bard's deep sleep, which did not end until the next morning,

  after Silas's departure to the Lucca Merchants' House on

  Needlestreet.

  Isolde was in the little plot of ground in conference with the gardener

  and his lad, discussing the height of a rose arbour along one side.

  Trelliswork tunnels, they told her, were high fashion here in Flanders.

  Bard's patience with this garden talk was limited and, taking

  Isolde by the elbow, he eased her away at the first sign of an

  agreement.

  She frowned.

  "Bard, I've not finished here. You go in; I'll join you in a moment or

  two."

  But Bard's misgivings had come alive again by daylight and needed

  instant clarification. He kept hold of her elbow.

  "Come," he said.

  "I've not travelled all this way to wait upon the gardener's time.

  This way, if you please. " He seated her where Ann-Marie had yesterday

  come down off her high horse to feed him pieces of chicken and where

  his dishevellment could best be appreciated in the balmy warmth of a

  secluded corner. It had worked a treat. But Isolde was no

  Ann-Marie.

  His tricks were already well known to her, and, now that his brother

  had had her at close quarters, it would not be so easy to regain

  ground. But how close was close?

  For Isolde, his attempts at charm had ceased to have any effect except

  irritation, and the inevitable comparisons between this shallow-minded

  young rake and his elder brother were present at every word and turn of

  head. How could she ever have been attracted to him?

  He tried the tender approach, taking one of her hands in both of his.

  "Well, cherie7 We can speak freely now we're alone. You've had an

  ordeal," he said, softly.

  "Can you tell me about it?"

  She stifled a sigh, knowing how he watched for every sign.

  "There's nothing much to tell," she said.

  "Eh?" He breathed a laugh.

  "You were together on a boat for days, and now here with him, and

  there's nothing to tell? Come on, love. You don't have to hide it

  from me. How long was it before he...?"

  She removed her hand in some irritation.

  "It was not like that. And anyway, you've no right to be asking me

  such questions."

  "I thought I had," he said.

  "Did he make you sleep with him?"

  Technically, the answer was yes.

  "I slept with Cecily," she said. Ask her. "

  "So you're?"

  "Bard, your brother has not harmed me in any way. He behaved like a

  gentleman." She stopped short of 'the perfect'. "If I appear to be

  upset by your appearance here, it's because I was sure you had a hand

  in the plan to abduct me and revenge Felicia, and my anger has stayed

  with me. I felt betrayed."

  Bard leaned towards her and captured her hand once more.

  "Sweetheart, I was so relieved to find you safe here. I'd have walked

  it to reach you. I couldn't bear to think of you weeping,

  deserted..."

  She had not wept.

  "How did you find out what happened?"

  "In York? Well, Silas obviously intended me to know, once I reached

  his house. He told me how to get there. It's a huge place on Coney

  Street, just by the wharf. But his servants just laughed: thought it

  was a huge jest, you know, brothers, and all that. They said he'd been

  to York the previous week, then he was off to Flanders."

  "What about Scarborough?"

  "They didn't mention Scarborough. Perhaps that was a change of

  plan."

  "So then what?"

  "Well, I tied the horses you'd borrowed from Fryde outside the Merchant

  Adventurers Hall after curfew, then I stayed overnight at Silas's

  house. And the next morning I went down the wharf to ask if Silas was

  due;

  the dockers at the Queen's Crane said exactly what his servants had

  said, that he'd been. They didn't expect to see him for weeks. I was

  furious, I can tell you. The bastard! Anyway, I found a cargo ship

  that was due to set sail down to Hull and then to Flanders and, as it

  happened, we had a fair wind but, oh, Isolde! " He clutched at his

  stomach and groaned.

  "Never again! Next time I'll learn to walk on water."

  "You saw nothing of Master Fryde in York?"

  "Not a thing. Did Silas send him a message, do you know?"

  "Not that I know of. But he's sent one to my father."

  "Eh?" Bard frowned. That was not good news. It placed him in the

  direct firing line.

  "He's told your father? He wants a ransom? Greedy bastard!"

  "No!" Isolde said sharply.

  "He's told my father that he'll keep me as long as Felicia's a

  prisoner, and let him know that I'm safe. I don't believe he's

  interested in a ransom, and anyway the only thing the La Vallons would

  be interested in would be the return of your sister, wouldn't it? And

  my father's not known for changing his mind. Quite the contrary."

  "Not even for his daughter's safety?"

  "My safety's not the issue. But I don't know. I think I shall have to

  sit it out here in Brugge for a while."

  Bard's voice softened.

  "Perhaps we could both sit it out here, cherie.

  It's as good as York any day. " He leaned towards her, caressing her

  cheek with a travelling finger that found a quick route down her neck

  and into the edge of her chemise. It was caught and held off, but Bard

  was undeterred.

  "There's a lot of exploring to be done," he whispered, 'and as long as

  he believes we're behaving ourselves, we could stay here in his little

  palace while he's out on his business trips. Housekeepers, eh? What

  dye think of that?

  If he's intent on keeping you here, I could be his assistant gaoler.

  I'd make a very sympathetic gaoler, Isolde. " His other hand sneaked

  round the back to hold her neck and chin in his direction and, as her

  eyes nickered and watched his, he believed he was winning back some of

  the ground he had lost.

  "So," he teased, 'what was all that I saw when I arrived yesterday, my

  lass? Getting ready to seduce him, were you? "

  Slowly but forcibly, his hand was prised away from her neck and held by

  the wrist.

  "No, Bard," Isolde said.

  "As a matter of fact, I was thanking your brother for the gift of a dog

  lead, nothing more. Does that answer your question?" Her eyes were

  wide open now, holding nothing of the languorous invitation he had been

  so sure of, and, although she was not even perturbed enough to move out

  of his half-embrace, neither was she anywhere near ready to give

  anything away.

  Bard was not easily deterred, for this was one of the most enjoyable

  parts of the hunt: the pursuit of the prey. There were times, though,

  when persuasion had to take a more positive line, for if he did not

  take control of the situation as a matter of some urgency, it was

  obvious tha
t his treacherous brother would. He had al ready seen the

  signs. Laughing, he allowed her to keep hold of his wrist, now lying

  over her shoulder, as this kept her prisoner, too.

  His other hand closed over her breast and so captured her within a

  circle from which she could hardly escape without an undignified

  struggle.

  Undignified or not, Isolde was prepared to indulge herself, if need be,

  and although Bard was strong, her attempts to be free of him were meant

  to be taken seriously.

  "Get off." she snapped, twisting away.

  A voice, unmistakably Silas's, came from nowhere.

  "She doesn't like it, lad. I tried it myself, but she won't have it at

  any price."

  Relieved, but very irate, Isolde propelled herself sideways and

  somewhat off-balance into Silas's arms. Not prepared to explain, she

  would have quickly disengaged herself to head off towards the house,

  but he caught her around the waist and held her firmly against him, her

  face beneath his chin. Before she could guess his intention, his mouth

  was warmly over hers in a kiss of greeting that was clearly meant to

  impress Bard as much as her.

  She had been starved for days with only the memory of her nights in his

  cabin to feed on. Pretence was beyond her, the need for it way out of

  range, and the kiss she returned could not have failed in its message

  of desperate hunger, a plea to him to relieve her yearning.

  Silas was prepared for anger and some resistance, but hardly for

  this.

  Nevertheless, her response reassured him that the line he was about to

  take with Bard was just as acceptable to her, even allowing for her

  unpredictability, and his soundless message breathed upon her lips.

  "Say nothing', was the only insurance he had time for.

  Holding her to his side, Silas regarded his brother's displeasure with

  faint surprise.

  "I could have told you," he said, 'but you were asleep. I didn't think

  to wake you with the information, though I suppose I should have.

  You've been here less than twenty-four hours, lad. " he motioned to

  Bard to sit again and shared the bench opposite with Isolde 'and

  already you've had the kitchen lass, halfway there with one of the

  duchess's ladies, and now an attempt upon my woman. I have to hand it

  to you, you don't waste time, do you? Even after a voyage in a cog,

  you're going a fair way to beating my father's record, I'd say."

  By this time Bard's pallor was quickly being replaced by a mottled

  flush and an Adam's apple that yo- yoed alarmingly, turning his first

  words into a croak.

  "How the hell did you know that?"

  "What... about the maidT Silas leaned towards him, frowning.

  "How do I know what's going on in my own house?" he said,

  incredulously.

  "Wake up, lad, for pity's sake. How the hell dye think I know? Did

  you believe I'd let you have the run of this place whilst my back was

  turned? You, of all people?"

  "You've ... you've not dismissed her, have you?"

  "Of course I've dismissed her. I'll not have your brat carried around

  my home for nine months. I hire my servants to work, not to breed,"

  Silas said harshly.

  "So what dye think those other two were doing,

  then? What dye call 'em . Pieter and Mei? " Bard asked,

  petulantly.

  "Watching to see what you got up to, lad."

  "No... they were--' " No, they weren't. How do you think I know about

  Paulus Matteus's daughter coming here? " Silas felt Isolde flinch and

  signalled to her with a quick press of his fingertips on her waist.

  "And who came with her, how long she stayed, where you talked? And did

  you really think she'd keep quiet about it, anyway? Did you?"

  "She told you? When? I don't believe it."

  "Then don't. She told her father. Her father's a friend of mine. Has

  been for years. I saw him this morning. The poor lass was so full of

  you she couldn't help herself, but you could at least have given her

  the facts straight instead of a bowl of codswallop. He'll not let you

  marry his daughter, you know, if you can't stick to the truth. He's a

  canny merchant, is Paulus. One of the best. And he knows a diamond

  from a lump of--' He glanced at Isolde, restraining himself.

  "Marry her? Is that what she said?"

  "Well, the word cropped up somewhere, and I'm damned sure I didn't

  suggest it."

  Isolde could not keep quiet any longer.

  "What was this bowl of codswallop? Do I not have a right to know,

  since it probably concerns me?"

  Silas was quick with the denial before Bard could begin to dissemble.

  "No, sweetheart. It concerns me. Bard believes--do you not,

  brother?--that he can get even with me for stealing you from under his

  nose by taking the woman who pretended to him that she and I have an

  agreement to marry."

  "She said it was so. In two years, she said."

  "She would. She takes her rejection hard, but I can't help that. You

  have it from me that it is not so, so you're running down the wrong

  track, lad. Now, I could have told her father this morning about her

  silly claims, but it would have upset him and got her into hot water,

  so I didn't. Besides which, he seems to think that the handsome young

  brother of his friend Silas Mariner who made such an impression on his

  daughter is like a new toy that he can't deny her, and I'm certainly

  not going to thwart that, if that's what she's after. It'll be

  something of a relief," he muttered, giving Isolde a gentle squeeze.

  "And that would be convenient, brother, wouldn't it?" said Bard,

  adopting some sarcasm of his own.

  "I came here to rescue Isolde, and you pair me off with one of your

  rejects. Well, that's-very neat."

  "Rescue Isolde from what, exactly?"

  "From you."

  "And does she look as if she wants to be rescued from me?"

  "You abducted her, man! You cannot take a woman like that."

  "Her father took our sister; I've taken his daughter. That makes her

  mine as long as he has Felicia. Isolde is my woman, like it or not."

  Bard glared from one to the other, then accusingly at Isolde, and,

  though she knew exactly what was passing through his mind, she also

  knew that, in Silas's presence, he dared not speak it.

  "Are you warning me off, Silas?"

  Silas leaned back, half-dropping his eyelids.

  "Well done, lad," he said.

  "You're beginning to get the message at last. So, while you're in

  respective mode, understand this. If the idea of having a diamond

  merchant for a father-in-law appeals to you, you'd best begin to stick

  to one woman at a time, because Paulus Matteus is an indulgent but

  jealous father. Perhaps now is the time to weigh up the pros and cons

  before you get in any deeper. Oh, and by the way, apparently Ann-Marie

  believes you've almost seduced her already, but she doesn't take too

  happily to rejection. Gets offended rather quickly. You can stay here

  for the time being, though." He did not add as long as you behave

  yourself, but it was clearly implicit in the offer and Bard was not so

  incensed tha
t he felt bound to reject it, or even to ask for

  modifications.

  It gave Isolde little pleasure to be wrangled over by two brothers, or

  even to be claimed by the one she wanted as if she were a piece of

  prestigious merchandise. She would prefer to have been wooed. Silas's

  use of the term 'lady' and 'woman' appeared to depend on the

  circumstances and, whilst the latter had overtones of possession and

  was therefore, in a way, exciting, she would have liked him to say that

  she was his lady, conveniently forgetting, of course, that she had

  recently denied it. Even so, Silas's uncompromising declaration of

  ownership removed in one fell swoop any need for her to find an excuse

  to stay, though, had she thought about it more rationally, she would

  have seen how immaterial were her wishes on that point. In a sense,

  that little crisis was over, for now Bard would leave her alone.

  Bard was uncertain whether to laugh or to cry. His hastily made plans

  had come unstuck before they were dry and the wealthy minx Ann-Marie