by His Ransom
And the women’s interest increased the men’s. They kept a wary eye on him and he was rarely to be seen out of the company of one or other of them. She noted with some relief that Richard did not encourage the women’s attention and did not seem to go out of his way to speak to any of them. He spent most of his time when he was not with the men with Thomas and Margaret and that pleased her. Her steward had brought her no stories of finding him in quiet places with servant girls or women from the town or the castle, although she began to wonder what she would do if he ever did. It seemed unlikely that such good behaviour could continue indefinitely. It was one thing to take the men of her father’s household to one side and explain her father’s wishes. It was quite another to explain them to the French prisoner. She rather thought that he would just laugh at her.
Ever before her father had gone to war it had been difficult to stop her ladies watching the men as they practised in the courtyard below her solar. It became almost impossible now that Richard was there. The training had caused her some problems when her father had left. She had not sought his advice, not wanting him to think that she was incapable of looking after things in his absence. She could not watch the men in the bailey as her father had done every day. They were half naked and it would not be seemly. Rosamunde led firmly by example and had decided that when her father left she would rely on Sir Guy’s assessment of the men’s training. She herself would never watch them. Before Richard’s arrival she had not given what happened in the courtyard a second’s thought; she had listened to Guy’s reports of the men’s abilities without thinking too much about how those abilities were honed. If there was no need for the chatelaine to observe the men as they trained, there was certainly no need for her ladies to do so. Yet they did and they gossiped about what they saw in Rosamunde’s hearing. It was not that she listened, but she heard and the women were impressed with the Frenchman. She had noticed for herself his strong shoulders. He would be a strong man when he regained his full strength. His crippled leg would always hold him back, but it was his bare chest and back that the women would be looking for, not his legs.
As the days passed she began to admit to herself that she was curious. It had been easy to resist the apparent temptation when there was no temptation and now she wanted to look and to see Richard. At first she told herself that it was simply a need to understand her ladies’ behaviour. But she knew that this was not the case. If she was honest in all her dealings with others she was no less honest with herself and she had to admit to herself that she was attracted to him as a man. She enjoyed his company. Now that he had recovered from the voyage and begun to get used to their ways he had proven himself to be an entertaining companion. He was always courteous, always had witty stories, when he could be persuaded to tell them, and he had a good singing voice, although few understood the words of the songs that he chose to sing to entertain them in the evening.
All of the ladies expressed their dismay that he did not dance. Even Margaret was of the opinion that he must have been a fine dancer before he damaged his leg, but Rosamunde suspected that Richard would never dance well. He was graceful in his movements and Guy reported that he moved well enough in the courtyard, despite his leg. His songs were the songs of war. He spoke often of the troubadours and who roamed the south of France with songs of love, but he could never be prevailed upon to sing their songs. He would smile and say that they could not understand his language, so there would be little point. Rosamunde understood that French was no more his language than it was hers. She had heard a troubadour sing in the langue d’oc many years before when her father had taken them all for a brief visit to court. The young man had impressed her with the way he paid attention to the women and sang to them as well as to the men. But she thought there had been some trouble later, so perhaps it was as well that Richard did not exercise whatever skills he might have in that area. She could see that he did not set out to please the women in his songs and she doubted that he had ever learned to dance well enough to please them. Pleasing women did not interest him; although she knew from Thomas that he had been married.
Rosamunde found him distant. There was no warmth in him, except when he was with Thomas. When she learned from Margaret that his wife had died in the Big Death she thought she understood him, for surely he had given his heart and was afraid to give it again. There were many among her women, she knew, who would be happy with less than his heart. But she never saw him pay more attention to one woman than to the others, save Margaret, and no woman received attentions that were not appropriate to her position in the household.
She longed each day for her father’s return to take him out of her hands. Surely the duke would send Richard away to one of his other properties. And perhaps he would consider the ransom paid when he returned, but she had to accept that he would probably not return before the spring and much could happen in the winter months, both in France and in England.
She took the threat of siege very seriously and was constantly thinking about what would be required to see them through it. Although the harvest had not been good, it would be sufficient if the winter was not too bad and there was always hunting and fish, unless they were besieged. She feared most for her people. As soon as Richard had identified the threat to the town she had become convinced that he was right and that they must find some way of bringing the people inside the castle. Although the castle was large, so was the town. In the end she sent away as many as she could to one of her father’s estates in Dorset. She began fitting out some of the larger bedchambers as dormitories, trying to work out how many people she could get into each space. The animals were also a problem. They would need to be inside the castle or Sir Walter would use them for his own supplies, but there would be nothing for them to eat once they were inside. Unlike the people, they were not easy to transport, but she still managed to move some of them knowing that they might end up eating the rest to survive. They salted as many fish as they could catch and a small group left the castle each day to hunt. This meat was also salted and stored.
Every afternoon she walked around the outside of the castle with Richard, Thomas and Guy to check that everything was in order and that they had identifies and could defend every door and window that could be used as an entry into the castle. Every evening they went through their plans and reassessed their ability to defend the castle. One evening, in despair at the lack of defence they could offer, Rosamunde said to them, “It would surely be better if I handed myself over to them without a siege.”
Thomas was quick to say, “No!” Guy nodded his agreement.
Richard only looked at her with his dark eyes and asked “Why do you not?” He must have given it much thought and not come to any conclusion.
Both Thomas and Guy were outraged and said so, but Rosamunde paused. “Because my father says not,” she said after a while. “If I had the choice I would not choose to marry him. I find him repulsive, but if my father said to marry him, then I would. But he says not to, therefore we fight.”
“But you would hand yourself over to save your people?” pursued Richard.
“If it were my choice, yes. My father would not wish his people to suffer for me. It is our duty to protect them, not to use them.” Rosamunde knew that the duke was unusual in this respect, but he had been changed by the Big Death. Having been spared the worst of its effects in the area immediately around the castle he had seen whole villages destroyed on his other estates. That had meant that there was no one to work the land and no rents for him. where other landowners had become harsher with their tenants to raise more money, the duke had become more lenient. People from other destroyed villages had slowly moved into his villages and he had begun to prosper again where others lost tenants and were unable to raise their rents. Rosamunde did not intend to change her father’s policies with regard to his tenants.
“And you fear that despite fighting him, Sir Walter will win anyway and take you.”
Rosamunde shuddered. This was
exactly what she feared.
“You fear because you are outnumbered?”
Rosamunde nodded.
“The English were outnumbered at Poitiers,” said Richard, “But still they won.”
“Because the French made mistakes,” said Thomas.
“Because the English were better prepared,” said Richard,” And because they could cope with the unexpected.”
“But Sir Walter is English,” said Guy, patiently. “He will be trained in the same way as all the men here.”
“But his men will not be fighting for their lives, or at least, they will not think they are fighting for their lives. Everyone in the castle will know that they defend the castle or they die. And the prospect of death makes men very inventive.”
Rosamunde did not want to think of anyone dying. Sir Walter’s men did not follow him by choice, but because he was their lord. She doubted if many of them had the stomach for taking on such a strongly fortified castle just to get one woman. It would not make them richer. Once he knew what had happened the king would fine Sir Walter and the latter would certainly never get Rosamunde’s dowry.
“Perhaps he will not come,” she whispered. “Perhaps he will wait until my father returns and try his suit again.”
The three men looked doubtful. “This is no love-sick boy, Rosamunde,” said Thomas. “This is a man controlled by his lusts. While you were betrothed there was nothing he could do and now he must think you unprotected and vulnerable.”
“If I wanted you,” said Richard absently, “I would take you.”
And Rosamunde did not know what to say. She stared at him. Did he mean that he did want her and would take her, or was he just putting himself in Sir Walter’s place? Richard did not lack imagination and he often made them stop to think about how Sir Walter would do things. She thought for a moment that she would be pleased if he did want her. He was attractive in many ways and she thought he might make a good husband, but she suspected that that was not what he had meant. She began to think about other women he might have taken, with or without their consent, and that thought took her back to Sir Walter.
“You forget yourself,” said Thomas angrily.
Richard looked taken aback, then nodded slowly. “You are right, my friend. I apologise, Lady Rosamunde.”
“No, it was a fair warning. You are right; he will come. He will not see that he has any other choice.”
When Richard thought that his leg would stand up to some exercise he presented himself to Guy in the courtyard. Guy had smirked and set him some basic exercises. Richard had not protested. He would have done the same in Guy’s place, without the smirk, perhaps. Guy did not know him, so could not know what he would be capable of when he was well. It made sense to build up from easy exercise. Besides, it would be pointless to embarrass himself by attempting something that was beyond him in his present condition. It had been some months since he had exerted himself properly. The damage to his leg and the sea voyage had conspired to ensure that he was no longer fit to fight. Nonetheless, he was confident that his many years of training would stand him in good stead and he would be able to survive whatever Guy could give him. After a very short time, however, he was sweating heavily and panting. He felt sharp pains in his leg, but he had no desire to show weakness in front of Guy or the other men. It was Thomas who finally saved him from his own foolishness after Richard’s opponent had knocked him to the ground for the third time. “That’s enough for your first day, I think. You’re no good to me if you’re in bed when Sir Walter comes.”
“You think I was struggling?” asked Richard, daring the younger man to say that he was weak.
“No. Just your leg. The rest of you was doing very well.”
Richard laughed, glad that Thomas, at least, could be straightforward. “You do not think Sir Walter will be afraid of a man with a twisted leg?”
“I think only a fool would not be afraid of you in a fight.”
“You have not seen me fight yet,” Richard warned him, angry that Thomas as well should make fun of him.
“You’ve been fighting every day since I met you. Now go and find Margaret. She’ll be in the still-room. She will have something to help you.”
Richard did not pause to think about what Thomas might mean, but bent down awkwardly to pick up his clothes. There was a trough of water by the stables and he washed the sweat off his body before he dressed again. It felt good to stop moving for a moment and to feel the water cool his body.
On his way to the still-room he bumped into two women, apparently on errands from Rosamunde. He apologised, although it had been their fault and went on his way. He was irritated and resolved to speak to Rosamunde. This was happening more frequently every day. He would round a corner and there would be women there. To get by he would have to press against them or they against him. It was not that he objected to the physical contact. Some of the women were attractive enough that he was tempted to take things further. But they were Rosamunde’s women and she should keep better control over them. Their behaviour did not reflect well on her. For some reason, he wanted to believe in her virtue. She did not seem flighty or calculating. It was possible that she was virtuous, but if her women were not then she could not be either.
His leg was very painful by the time he found Margaret and he sank down gratefully onto the stool beside her.
“Thomas sent me. Do you have anything to help with the pain?”
“I have many things, but I do not think you want them.” She looked at him questioningly.
He shook his head. “No, I do not want those things.” He knew there were many potions and draughts that would dull the pain, but they would also dull his wits and now that his body was letting him down he needed his wits.
“Then you must show me your leg.” When he stood to leave she continued patiently, “I must understand the extent of the damage before I can begin to make something for you that will help. You need not fear, Thomas understands that I must look. He also understands that I have no interest in you, for all your looks and manners.” She smiled and, despite himself, Richard smiled back. She did not insult him; she merely reminded him that she loved her husband and would not disgrace him. Still it was difficult to remove his hose in front of her, but she examined him impersonally and touched him only when it was necessary.
“Very well,” she said at last, “Dress yourself again. I know what will help.” Margaret turned and reached up to the shelf behind her then handed him a small pot.
“This will do until I can make the proper potion for you. Take this and rub it into your leg. It will help the healing, but it will not take away the pain for long. And you must kneed your leg, like this.” She took his forearm in her two hands and pushed her fingers into the muscle until it hurt. He flinched, embarrassed that he had shown weakness in front of a woman.
“It would be better if you would let someone else do it,” Margaret said and he wondered if she intended herself for this interesting exercise.
He shook his head. It was enough that one person in the castle knew the full extent of his injuries. There was no one he trusted to ask, although there were a few women whose hands interested him enough to wish to feel them massage Margaret’s ointment into his leg.
“I can do it myself.” He held up the pot, opened it and sniffed. “What is in it?”
Margaret looked surprised. “Very few men care what is in their medicine.”
“I used to help the herbalist at home. I know all the plants and their properties. At least, I know the ones that grow around Charimaux. Would you teach me about the herbs you use?” It might help to pass his time usefully.
Margaret looked at him, considering. “If my lady gives her permission and if Thomas agrees.”
Richard smiled. “Thomas will agree, if I give my word.”
Margaret pursed her lips. “That’s not what I meant. I know I’m in no danger from you, but very few other people will understand that.”
Richard was beginn
ing to think that he would settle well into life in the duke’s castle. He would now be able to return to working with herbs, for he did not doubt that Rosamunde and Thomas would give their permission. Although he suspected that some of the women might discover a previously unexpressed desire to study herbs, he thought it would keep him out of their way for the most part. He did not fear the duke’s return, believing the man to be fair and generous. Whatever ransom he might have devised, Richard knew that it would be within his ability to pay it. He enjoyed being with Rosamunde. She was intelligent and well-educated and talked about things that interested him.
She was cheerful and open, despite her recent grief and her worries about the siege. She was a counterpart for his more silent and thoughtful nature, but she did not chatter and for that Richard was grateful. If Rosamunde had nothing to say, she did not speak. Unlike most of the women he had known, she did not seem to fear silence. She did not fill it with talk about gowns and babies and men. After she had beaten him a couple of times at merelles he had an even greater respect for her intelligence and he began to wonder if she might be the woman he was looking for. It would be a great shame if she were. He had nothing to offer such a woman.
On his way to the hall at midday he found his way blocked by Berthe, the woman who had been most persistent in her attentions since his arrival. “Would you help me?” she said. “I have twisted my ankle and cannot put my weight on it to walk to the hall.” She put her hand on his arm.