by Ana Seymour
“Unless you pay the tax to relieve you of that duty,” Ellen added.
Alyce nodded.
“Forgive an old lady her aches and pains, Alyce. It’s easier for your young body. Could you please open that chest for me?”
She pointed to a wooden trunk that sat a short distance away. Bewildered, Alyce got up and went to open the trunk. As she did so, her mind flashed back to a similar scene, months ago, when Thomas had also invited her to open a chest. That one had been full of gold coin.
Somehow she knew even before she opened it that this chest would have the same contents. She pushed back the lid and looked over at Ellen, her expression questioning.
“It’s a gift,” Ellen said. “To pay your tax to the king. There should be enough there to buy your freedom.”
Alyce shook her head in confusion. “But why—”
“So you can choose your own destiny, child. We all should have that right.”
Alyce looked down at the glittering coins and blinked. It made no sense. Why would a perfect stranger ride into her home and her life and offer her a tremendous amount of money? “I have no land for sale,” she said.
The old woman laughed. “I haven’t come to buy anything. The money is yours, free and clear.”
Alyce sat back and put her hands on her hips. “I don’t understand,” she said.
Ellen looked at her a long moment, then smiled kindly. “My mission was to bring you the money, child, with no further explanation. But I’ve had a change of heart.”
“I don’t understand,” Alyce repeated.
“I believe you deserve to know where the money is coming from. It might help you with some decisions you have to make.”
“It’s not from you?” Alyce asked.
The old woman flashed a grin, and suddenly, in spite of her age, Alyce saw an unmistakable family resemblance. “Nay,” Lady Ellen said. “The money is from the heir to Lyonsbridge, my grandson, Thomas Brand.”
Chapter Eighteen
Alyce knelt in front of the chest of gold in stunned silence. It was a great deal of money, but probably not much of a consideration to a man who would be heir to the great Lyonsbridge estate.
She could feel heat burning her cheeks as she remembered with embarrassment how she’d thought Thomas was a fortune hunter. She’d thought that his attentions to her were because he had designs on modest little Sherborne. She felt like a fool.
Lady Ellen was waiting for her reaction, but Alyce didn’t know what to say to the woman. It was obvious what this meant. After all the trouble she’d caused him, Thomas was no longer interested in marrying her. She supposed the money was in the way of an apology. He didn’t want her, but he didn’t want her to be forced into any other disagreeable match.
“You can tell your grandson that he has no obligation to me,” she said stiffly.
Ellen laughed. “I think he would disagree with you about that.”
Tears sprang to Alyce’s eyes. Slowly she closed the chest, rose to her feet and went back to sit across from Ellen. She would not cry, she told herself fiercely. Thomas was trying to do the decent thing. He wanted to help her find that life of independence she had craved. But evidently he hadn’t been willing to see her one last time to bring her the money himself. He’d recruited his grandmother for the task.
“Why did he send you?” she asked Ellen.
“Because I’m a woman, and because I may have some kind of understanding of the feelings of a woman who has had to fight her own battles.”
The words sounded more like Ellen’s than Thomas’s. Alyce had never felt that Thomas had understood much about the kind of battles women had to face. “Or perhaps he was just being cowardly,” she said softly.
Ellen chuckled. “Most men are cowards where women’s feelings are concerned, but nay. You’ve taught my grandson a lesson, child. I think this time he wanted to be sure that you felt absolutely free to make your own choice about a husband. He realized it was a mistake to force you before.”
“It was,” Alyce agreed.
“Mayhap, but I believe it was done with a good heart. Men always think they know what’s best for us.”
“Aye.” She thought of her father. He’d felt that he was doing what was best for his daughter by driving away any man who would offer her love. She sighed. “This is generous of Thomas, but you can tell him that he doesn’t need to worry about me, and I free him of all obligation.”
Ellen blinked in surprise. “That sounds almost as if you’re not in love with him anymore.”
Tears filled her eyes, but her chin went up. “Who said I was ever in love with him? As you must know, King Richard forced me into our betrothal.”
Ellen shook her head. “An old woman knows these things, Alyce. What’s more, I don’t believe you’ve stopped loving him. When you said his name just now, I saw the same softness in your eyes that you will see in mine every time you hear me say the name of my husband, Connor.”
She did see it, a mixture of pride and warmth shining from the old woman’s still-young eyes. “Aye,” Alyce said, her voice subdued. “I do love Thomas. But I’m going to ask you, as one woman to another, to keep my admission a secret. I’ve caused him a lot of problems and don’t blame him for wanting to be free of me. I won’t place any more burdens on him.”
Ellen sat straight up in her chair and crossed her arms. “Blessed St. Mary, child, what makes you think he wants to be free of you?”
Alyce faltered. “Well, it’s…it’s clear, isn’t it?” She gestured toward the money chest. “He’s sent me money to pay the king so that I can be free from his choice of a husband. We’ll dissolve our betrothal and—”
Ellen leaned forward and seized both of Alyce’s hands in a surprisingly strong grip. “Alyce, my child. The last thing Thomas wants is to be free of you. He sent the money so that you could freely choose to marry him.”
The first sight of Lyonsbridge Castle took Alyce’s breath away. She knew it immediately, since Ellen had told her of its distinctive shape, one tower round and one octagonal. The procession rounded a curve and there it was in the distance, silhouetted against the pink sky of the setting sun.
“It’s magnificent, isn’t it?” Ellen called to her, leaning out from her litter. “I’ll never forget my first glimpse of it. ’Twas at sunset, much like today.”
“It looks almost golden,” Alyce answered, her voice awed.
“Aye. I’ll not forget my first glimpse of the master of its stables, either,” the old woman added with a chuckle.
Alyce had been amazed to learn that the stable master she referred to was the same man who was now Ellen’s husband, the lord of Lyonsbridge. Of course, Connor’s Saxon ancestors had been lords at Lyonsbridge long before Ellen’s Norman father had taken possession of the estate.
Alyce had learned a lot about Lyonsbridge history. The previous day at Sherborne, she and Lady Ellen had talked all the afternoon and late into the night.
Ellen had been sympathetic and indignant listening to Alyce’s tale of her forced betrothal. For Alyce, it was almost like having a mother to confide in once again.
When Alyce had declared that, in spite of Thomas’s gesture with the money, he didn’t deserve to have her riding meekly back to Nottingham for a wedding, Ellen had agreed. But as the candles burned low in the cozy solar, the older woman had convinced Alyce to pay a visit to Lyonsbridge.
“It will put you under no obligation, child. I’d like to have you meet Connor and I’d like to show you my home. If my grandson is interested in seeing you, he can come to you there.”
So they had set out, Ellen generously sharing her litter with Lettie. Alyce had brought along Fredrick, as well as the two cousins, Hugh and Guelph, since she hadn’t wanted to arrive at the great Lyonsbridge unescorted.
In spite of Ellen’s show of enthusiasm upon their arrival, Alyce could see the exhaustion of travel in the woman’s face as they made their way up the little hill and through the Lyonsbridge gates. But the weari
ness seemed to vanish as she turned her head toward the figure of a tall, older man striding toward them across the courtyard.
Connor, Lord of Lyonsbridge, was as snowy-haired as his wife, and his skin showed the same translucence of age. But his back was as straight as a young man’s and there was a youthful twinkle in his blue eyes.
He briefly acknowledged Ellen’s introduction of the visitor, but Alyce could see that he would pay her little attention until he had first greeted his wife with a tender kiss and asked her, “How did you fare on the journey, my love?” Alyce felt her heart swell a little at the obvious devotion between them.
The evening meal in the huge great hall of Lyonsbridge was merry, and all the Sherborne delegation enjoyed themselves in spite of the fatigue of the journey. Following dinner, Connor picked up his lute, and, his eyes never leaving Ellen, played several minstrel ballads, most dealing with tangled tales of intrigue and love.
Alyce watched him play, her eyes blurry with tears as she recalled how his grandson had sung those very same songs at Sherborne.
Finally, it was obvious that Lady Ellen had reached the end of her strength. She sagged a little in her chair and put her elbows heavily on the table in front of her. Connor set aside his lute and helped her up, stopping only long enough to take leave of his guests before he escorted her out of the room.
Alyce, too, felt the effects of the journey, and was grateful to be shown to a small private chamber that Ellen had ordered prepared for her. Lettie volunteered to sleep on the stone floor beside the single pallet, but Alyce told her to seek more comfortable quarters elsewhere. She was used to sleeping alone, and in fact she welcomed some time to herself to sort through her jumbled thoughts.
She was glad she had come to Lyonsbridge, whether or not Thomas ever showed up. She felt amazingly at home in the roomy castle, in spite of its grandeur. Connor and Ellen both put her at ease. They were a remarkable couple. Alyce lay back on her cot and smiled as she remembered their tenderness with each other. What a gift to be able to live to a happy old age side by side with a partner you loved beyond words. It was a treasure worth more than all the gold in the world, she thought drowsily as she drifted off to sleep.
Somehow, it didn’t seem the least bit strange to awaken and find herself in Thomas’s arms. Still half-asleep, she gave a contented murmur and snuggled up against his warm chest.
Thomas chuckled. With a start, she realized that she was at Lyonsbridge, and that Thomas was here, naked, and in her bed.
“I’ve been waiting an hour for you to wake up, sweetheart,” he said, kissing her nose. “I rode all night.”
She blinked twice. He was smiling down at her, his eyes slightly red from lack of sleep. “What are you doing here?” she asked, still groggy.
He tightened his hold on her. “My grandmother sent word that you might be favorably disposed to seeing me.”
She pulled away. “I doubt the lady Ellen would consider this the proper way to hold an audience.”
Thomas grinned. “Oh, I don’t know. My grand-mother’s a bold and adventurous lady, rather like someone else I know.”
Alyce smiled. “But, Thomas, we need to talk…seriously.”
He donned a mock serious expression. “Very well. What would you like to talk about, milady?”
Alyce hesitated. The truth was, she had little desire to talk when she could feel every ridge of his muscles through the thin cloth of her nightdress. “Well, about marriage and things…” Her voice trailed off.
Thomas seemed to sense that her mind was not on the topic. He moved, ever so slightly, so that the fit of their bodies became intimately close. “Marriage, aye, a noble institution,” he said with a grin. “My grandparents recommend it.”
She brightened. “They’re wonderful people, Thomas. I like them so.”
“Everyone does,” he agreed. “Would that we all could find such happiness.”
“Do you think that you and I ever could?” she asked, a bit wistfully.
He kissed her then, deeply and tenderly. When he had finished, he said, “We already have, love, we just have yet to fully admit it. But I’m ready to change that.”
“And that’s why you sent me the gold?” She wanted to make absolutely certain. “It wasn’t to be rid of me?”
He sat almost all the way up, astonished. “To be rid of you!”
“’Tis what I thought, at first. I’d made such a mess of things, caused so many problems.” Her lip trembled. “Poor Fantierre…”
Thomas grew sober, then bent to lightly kiss the quivering lip. “Shh, sweetheart. Fantierre was playing a dangerous game and he knew the odds. I believe Dunstan found out about the Frenchman’s double role before he ever went to meet with you that afternoon. Your plan to free Sherborne probably had nothing to do with his death.”
“But we can’t be sure,” she said.
“We’ll never know,” he agreed, “but I do know that Fantierre had a Frenchman’s appreciation for true love. The last thing he would want was for his death to spoil things for us.”
They both were quiet a long moment, remembering, then Alyce asked the question she’d had ever since Ellen revealed his identity. “Why didn’t you ever speak of Lyonsbridge in those days after our betrothal? You were no longer using the Havilland disguise.”
“No, but I thought it would be best if I could persuade you to love me for myself, without talk of estates and titles. And when I was asking Lettie about us, she seemed a little insulted at the idea of Sherborne being only a modest holding.”
“You’ve talked to Lettie about this?”
“Sweetheart, I’ve gotten advice from Lettie and Kenton and Ranulf and my grandmother…even from the king himself.” Thomas gave a mock sigh. “I never knew that falling in love was such a complicated subject.”
“Nor did I,” Alyce agreed fervently. “Of course, it wasn’t supposed to happen to me. I was determined to stay unwed.”
“Now that would have been a great tragedy,” he said, his voice deep with feeling.
She smiled and moved close to him again underneath the blankets. “But I’ve been convinced to change my mind.”
Thomas’s slow answering smile set a pulse pounding in the side of her neck. “By my grandmother?” he asked.
“Well, she’s been lovely, but…it’s been a combination of things.”
He pushed her back so that her head was on the pillow. “Could that saucy Rose have had anything to do with it?”
She wound her arms around his neck. “Aye, I do believe she did,” she said with a little giggle. “She’s the one who showed me that certain parts of the process can be quite…” she paused as he started to kiss her “…enjoyable.”
His tongue stroked from her chin to her lip, then deftly delved into her mouth, seeking a deep, satisfying kiss. “I’ll have to thank her someday,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.
Alyce gave a little moan and moved to slip her body underneath his. “You can thank her now,” she said.
“We have to get up, Thomas. Your grandparents will think me a scandalous hussy.”
“I don’t think they’ll judge us too harshly,” he said with a laugh. “I remember many a morning when neither of them showed up to break the fast.”
“I have no such memories of my parents,” Alyce said, a little sadly. “I think even before my mother died, my father was afraid of what their lovemaking might do to her.”
“My grandmother says that to live in fear is to live life as a cripple.”
“I can see that spirit in her,” Alyce said.
“Of course, from the tales I’ve heard, there are times when my grandfather felt that she could have benefited from a little bit of healthy fear.”
“Her way seems to have worked fine for her. She’s lived to a healthy old age.”
Thomas rolled over to give Alyce a sound kiss. “You have a lot in common with my grandmother, sweetheart. I may have to ask my grandfather for advice on how to deal with a woman who knows h
er own mind.”
“I think you’ve already discovered one way to deal with her,” she said, kissing him back.
He grinned. “Aye, but I’ll continue to ask advice.” He looked away for a moment, then said casually, “In fact, I was thinking that you and I might pay a visit to old Maeve when we return to Sherborne.”
Alyce was surprised. “I thought you didn’t believe in her powers.”
“I’ve rethought the matter.”
With a sly smile she said, “And I bet I know the prediction you want from her. It’s about those dozen children we’re supposed to have.”
He looked sheepish. “To tell you the truth, I’d not considered asking her about that.”
“What then?”
He gave a great sigh. “Sweetheart, I’m utterly in love with you, but you must admit you do have a tendency to get into trouble from time to time. I thought old Maeve might be able to give me advance warning so that I’ll be prepared the next time my wife decides to, oh, for example, take on an entire garrison of seasoned soldiers.”
She started to give him a playful swat on the arm, but before she could complete the gesture, he seized her wrist, pinned it to the bed and loomed over her. “Am I to be such a burden?” she asked, her voice gone husky.
He nodded his head slowly. “Aye, fearsome. But I’ll make the sacrifice.” Before she could protest, he lowered his head to begin kissing her again. “As to the matter of those dozen children…”
She returned his kisses for a moment, then, when he didn’t finish his statement, pulled away and waited.
“We don’t need to talk with old Maeve about that,” he murmured.
She smiled. “We don’t?”
“Nay.” He began to nip just underneath her chin. “We can get started on that all by ourselves.”
“I love you, Thomas Brand,” she said. Then she let him roll her in his arms as the midmorning sun turned to afternoon.
ISBN: 978-1-4603-5936-5
LADY OF LYONSBRIDGE