by Lynn Wood
It was the latter trait that attracted William’s attention. The duke developed a fondness for the young man Nathan had been and applauded his desire to better himself. William placed Nathan in the hands of his personal guard for training. Determined to take advantage of any and every opportunity provided him, Nathan trained hard and excelled as a young soldier, and was soon given command of a contingent of men. He expected the soldiers under his command to be better than any titled nobleman’s knights and welcomed into his ranks younger sons and bastard sons whose determination to better themselves matched his own.
His reputation as a leader of men grew and he was given greater responsibility within the duke’s realm. He proved his unswerving loyalty on the field of battle. He proved his superior judgment in handpicking his men by their relentless, merciless precision in battle. The defeat of the Saxon challenger to the throne made William a king. Nathan harbored a secret hope it would make him a landowner.
William had already awarded many of his supporters with lands of their own. Of course the majority of these were wealthy nobleman in Normandy. They supplied ships, paid mercenaries and horses in support of the war effort. All Nathan could offer the duke were his arms, his blood, and the swords and loyalty of his highly trained men. Not an offering to be dismissed lightly but certainly no match for the hundreds of ships other, wealthier lords could deliver.
“Come in, Nathan,” William was saying. “There is a matter I wish to discuss with you privately.”
Nathan entered the richly appointed room and sat in the chair William graciously offered. His father, while a landed lord, was not a particularly wealthy man. Nathan was raised in a gentleman’s home. His mother insisted all of her sons be familiar with the ways of the world in the finest households. So he knew his manners were acceptable; a fact he silently thanked his mother for the numerous times he was required to spend the evening in the company of the duke and the highest members of the Norman nobility. At least he never embarrassed himself by making the kind of mistake that would mark him as a poor country soldier lacking in the trappings of a gentleman. He suspected he was accepted among the ranks of the landed lords more easily because he could so easily pass as one of them.
“I am faced with a bit of a dilemma,” William remarked.
Nathan remained silent. After their long years together he was acquainted well enough with his liege lord to recognize when he was merely thinking out loud. When he wished for a response from Nathan, he would ask a direct question. “You were present in the hall when Lady Rhiann arrived?”
“Yes.”
“I originally intended to award the former duke’s holding to Robert or Baron Brice,” William explained, referring to two rich noblemen with already extensive holdings in Normandy. “Both men are widows and it is time they remarried. The duchess would need a strong man to protect her estates and I believed her marriage to a Norman lord would provide a calming influence on the Saxon inhabitants to see the duchess retain her former status.”
Nathan nodded. He was aware of William’s plan to marry his single knights to Saxon ladies to keep the peace in his new kingdom. Nathan thought the idea a brilliant one. Intermarriage would make it difficult to sustain the resistance for long when the sons and daughters of the new nobility would be half Norman and half Saxon.
“However, it appears the duchess is dead, though I intend to discover how it was she met her death by a Norman sword. I cannot believe any of my men would act in such a reckless manner, particularly when I ordered the duke’s family be brought to London with all due haste.”
When William looked expectantly at Nathan, he replied honestly. “I cannot believe any of Brice’s men would be capable of putting a sword through the duchess.”
The king sighed heavily. “Unfortunately war causes men to do things they would not ordinarily be capable of, but the lady’s death and that of her older daughter leaves me with Lady Rhiann’s future to settle and the duke’s estates to award. I believe we have exacted a high enough toll on the lady, I will not ask her to wed a man old enough to be her father. So my friend, I decided to award the duke’s estates to you, assuming you’re willing to wed Lady Rhiann?”
Nathan was so stunned by William’s announcement he was convinced he must have imagined the words he believed passed through his friend and lord’s smiling lips. William meant to award the duke’s estates to him? The duke’s estates?
William’s smile widened at the astonishment reflected on his vassal’s face. “You earned them Nathan. I admit I did not originally plan to award you the Weston holdings and there will no doubt be a great deal of grumbling among my barons when they learn of my decision, but my mind is made up. The land is yours. I suspect you will defend your new estates and my interests here in Saxony against any who would attempt to challenge them.”
“Yes you may rest assured of that,” Nathan could only summon a harsh whisper in reply. Lands of his own. A duke’s estate, no less. He still couldn’t take it in.
“And you will wed Lady Rhiann and treat her kindly?” William continued. “I believe you mentioned there was an understanding between you and Lady Sara, and it was your intent to wed her on your return to Normandy.”
Nathan met William’s glance unflinchingly. “I will wed Lady Rhiann. She will be treated with every kindness and respect as deserving her position as my wife. I will not be returning to Normandy, my lord, unless you are in need of my services there.”
“I suspect I will require your services more here, Nathan, which is why I decided to award the duke’s estates to you. If I gave them to a man of wealth with lands of his own in Normandy he would be reluctant to make his life here. You on the other hand are not troubled by such divided loyalties to hold you back from committing to a life in this new realm. I want you to make your home here, Nathan and keep as many of your men who are willing to stay. The duke’s estates are quite vast and profitable. You’ll encounter no trouble paying the wages of as many men as you can persuade to stay.”
“My lord, I do not know how to thank you. I never expected…”
The king smiled and patted his arm, dismissing his vassal’s awkward attempt at gratitude. “The lands you earned, Nathan. The lady is my gift to you. See that you value my gift as you should.”
Nathan nodded and William continued. “I will see you this evening and introduce you to your bride then. The wedding will be held tomorrow evening in the new abbey. I imagine you would like your family present but it is best for Lady Rhiann and for the keeping of the peace among my knights if the matter of the duke’s estates and the lady’s future is settled as soon as possible.”
Nathan bowed, offering another stumbling attempt to express his gratitude for the king’s magnanimous gift, and at the older man’s smiling dismissal, turned on unsteady legs and left the room. His long stride carried him quickly along the hallway leading into the great hall and the exit. He didn’t pause to exchange words with his friends, or even those of his own men awaiting his return.
The chill air and dim light of a late autumn afternoon greeted him as he exited the keep. Upon reaching his tents, he called for his horse. When his young squire arrived leading the huge stallion, Nathan mounted him in a single fluid movement. At a galloping pace he sought to escape the city, away from the questioning glances of his acquaintances, away from the wealthy nobles who looked down at him for his lowly status and behind his back questioned his right to dine at the king’s table.
He still was unable to take in the soon to be, abrupt, incredible, unprecedented change in his fortunes. He was to be lord of his own lands, the estates of a former duke no less, who died defending his country against invasion, whose daughter was to be given to him along with her father’s lands. The Lady Rhiann would no doubt be less than thrilled at the prospect of being joined in marriage to a man less nobly born than herself. But Nathan did not doubt in time they would manage to deal reasonably well with each other.
He would keep his promise to William. He wo
uld treat her kindly. She would give him sons. That was all he required in a wife – strong, healthy sons to pass his lands onto when he died. And when he breathed his last he would be laid aside his former enemy in death and together they would watch the progeny of their bloods govern the lands once belonging to them both.
He refrained from speaking of his good fortune upon his return to his tent, even to his commander and close friend, Archibald. He saw the questioning looks in the eyes of those closest to him, but no one questioned him about the reason for his abrupt departure earlier, and Nathan offered only the most general of explanations for his extended absence, merely stating he was sent on an urgent errand for the king.
He dressed carefully for dinner. A wealthy man could appear at less than his best in the king’s hall since no one questioned his right to be there. A lesser man could not. Nathan never gave anyone a reason to question his presence among them. His garments were rich and fit his tall, muscular form perfectly. As soon as they began to show wear he discarded them. With his commander by his side, he entered the great hall as if they both belonged there. After tomorrow night, God willing, they would.
CHAPTER FIVE
Rhiann felt as though she was lost in a dark cave stumbling towards a tiny light at its entrance. Her steps were heavy and her thoughts dazed. Finally she became conscious of a quiet voice urging her awake. Her memory surged back and she sat up abruptly amongst the thick quilts, aware of the housekeeper smiling kindly down at her as she apologized for waking her. Rhiann nodded and pushed a hand through the heavy weight of her hair.
“Forgive me, my lady, but the dressmaker is here to measure you for your new gowns,” the older woman was saying.
Rhiann drew her brows together in confusion. “My new gowns?”
“Yes, apparently the king was most displeased you were not allowed to bring your own things with you and he ordered the man responsible to outfit you as befits a guest in his home,” the woman replied, grinning widely.
Rhiann sat staring up at her with an astonished look on her face. Why in the world would the king order new gowns made for her when she was going to be executed? “I don’t understand. Is this some bizarre Norman custom that I’m well dressed and well fed for my execution?”
“Execution?” The housekeeper’s astonished reaction could not have been feigned. Seeing it, Rhiann felt the beginnings of hope stir in her breast. “My lady, you cannot possibly think the new king intends to order you killed. Who’s been filling your mind with such lies?”
Rhiann was a little surprised at the Saxon woman’s fierce defense of the new king. “I’m his enemy and the daughter of a high ranking noble under the former king. If it is not his intention to have me killed what does he intend to do with me?”
The older woman eyed her sympathetically. “I imagine, my lady, he intends to marry you to one of his knights.”
“Marry me?” Rhiann echoed stunned. She never even considered the possibility of an arranged marriage – especially marriage to a Norman knight. “You cannot be serious.”
“Forgive me, milady, but there have already been several such arranged marriages. The new king believes marrying the widows and daughters of the former nobility to his knights will help ensure the future peace.”
Rhiann leaned back against the thick pillows while she absorbed this latest disclosure. She supposed the Norman duke’s intent made sense in some obscene way, but she refused to believe the king could honestly expect her to marry one of his knights. She was barely six and ten. Now she understood why he asked her how old she was. “You must be mistaken. He meant to marry my mother or my sister to one of his knights. I am too young to wed.”
The older woman clucked sympathetically. “We will have to wait and see what the king decides. In the meantime we need to get you dressed and out of bed. The dressmaker is waiting outside the door and he will need time to fit you for your new gown for tonight. You’ll be dining with the king.”
Rhiann allowed herself to be dragged from the bed and bustled into a loose fitting robe that was not her own. She supposed there was no point in putting her soiled gown back on if she was to be fitted for a new one. The harried dressmaker was ushered into the room along with two assistants, all of them with their arms filled with bolts of cloth and bags to carry the threads and patterns required for their work.
“My lady, I am Eton, and these are my daughters, Pricilla and Andrea. We are instructed to outfit you in a manner befitting a guest in the king’s home. I understand your most urgent need is a gown for this evening. I carried with me a gown that was ordered before the war and never claimed by its intended owner. Hopefully we will be able to alter it so you might wear it tonight.”
Rhiann noticed the older man was not much taller than she was. He emptied his burdens onto the bed and motioned for her to hold out her arms so he could take her measurements. She smiled when she realized she stood eye to eye with him. She was so used to the Norman knights towering over her she forgot what it was like to look a man in the eye. His daughters were even more petite and stood almost a head shorter than she was.
When the old man completed his measurements, he nodded satisfied and motioned one of his daughters to step forward with the dress she held in her hands. Rhiann was surprised by its richness. The dress was a deep emerald cut from a fine, elegant material with gold threads stitched in a floral design around the neckline and cuffs. Rhiann stood still while Eton and his daughter lifted the dress over her head and pinned it to adjust the fitting.
Rhiann’s mood lifted at being clothed in clean, beautiful clothes again. It was a silly thing maybe but it was nice to have people fuss over her and exclaim at her beauty and how the green coloring of the gown exactly matched her eyes and the gold threads, her hair. Eton directed his daughters to remove the dress, and then held up a rich burgundy cloth against her. The burgundy was followed by a pale gold the color of freshly churned butter. Rhiann’s head was spinning with the number of gowns the little man seemed intent on sewing for her.
When she tried to protest, her concerns were waved away. He assured her he was under very strict instructions to ensure she had everything she needed. Once the dresses were complete, he addressed the issue of her lack of chemises and stockings to wear beneath her gowns. He clucked disapprovingly at her dirty shoes and promised to have several pairs delivered to see to her needs. He also pulled from his bag ribbons and silks of all colors for her hair, and belts for her gowns. He fitted her for a new winter cloak and told her he would see to it boots were delivered for outer wear.
A hesitant knock on the door brought the arrival of a lady’s maid assigned to see to her needs. She informed the gathering the king’s guests were already arriving for the evening meal and shyly requested Rhiann take the chair near the fire so she could begin the laborious process of arranging Rhiann’s waist length gold curls into a fashionable style. Eton and one of his daughters were working furiously to ensure the green gown would be ready in time. The other daughter was sent in search of a suitable pair of shoes. It was decided Rhiann would have to wear her own chemise for the evening as her new ones could not possibly be ready in time.
By the time her entourage pronounced her ready to join the king and his guests, Rhiann’s head was sore from the maid’s attention, her skin felt like a pin cushion from all the minor adjustments that were made to the gown once it was already on her, and her feet were already sore from wearing the last minute slippers procured from somewhere but which were unfortunately too small for her feet. She was just heading towards the door when a peremptory knock announced the arrival of a member of the king’s guard sent to escort her downstairs.
Rhiann strode silently next to the king’s knight, her head held high, outwardly calm, but inside her stomach was in knots. The housekeeper must have been mistaken about the king’s intent to marry her to one of his knights, but if so what else could he do with her? She could not stay indefinitely in London as a guest of the king. There was no family in Saxony
she could go to. She doubted the king would agree to send her to her mother’s mother, and while he might agree to send her to Normandy to her father’s mother, she thought perhaps she would even prefer marriage to one of the fierce knights who escorted her to town rather than spend her days under the thumb and obligation of the grandmother who disowned her son when he married Rhiann’s mother.
She hesitated at the top of the stairs, seeing the hall was already crowded with company, most of them male. They were an older and obviously more substantial group than the young men who provided her escort to London. Oh God, did that mean the king meant to marry her to one of them? Surely not. Most of the men assembled below were closer to the king’s age than her own. She wanted to turn around and flee back to the relative safety of her chambers but knew she would not be given the opportunity by the guard at her side. He was already regarding her questioningly at her hesitation. Sighing inwardly, she lifted the skirt of her gown and slowly began descending the stairs.
Nathan watched Lady Rhiann’s descent from his place at the opposite end of the room, aware his heart was suddenly thudding loudly in his chest. His position near the rear of the hall prevented him from seeing her clearly earlier. Now he understood William’s pronouncement of the lady being his gift to him and what a magnificent gift indeed! She was perfection. Never in his life had he beheld a more beautiful woman. Certainly he never expected to be able to claim such a woman for his own. She was only of average height but that was the only characteristic she could claim as average. Her hair was a deep gold the color of polished coins. Her face beautifully formed, her skin was flawless, her mouth full, and her eyes matched the deep emerald of her gown. She was slender but the top of her gown clung close across the tantalizing curves of her breasts, proclaiming while she might be young, she possessed a woman’s body.