The Traitor's Daughter

by Munday, April

  Now Alais wanted to know more about Hugh. “Tell me about your children,” she said, trying to draw him out.

  “Children!” he snorted.

  “Edmund told me that your property came to you through your wife, so I assumed you had children.”

  “No, no children.”

  “I am sorry. Perhaps in the future.”

  “Perhaps,” said Hugh. His body tensed. It was not as soft and yielding as it had been moments before.

  “I am sorry, my lord, I did not intend to bring up a painful subject.”

  “No,” said Hugh, “it was a reasonable question to ask. It seems that the men in my family have difficulty getting children on their wives. Geoffrey, my older brother, also failed in that respect.”

  “And that is why you are now the heir.”

  “Yes. I had no wish for lands or property. I did not want the responsibility or the greed that seems to go with it. Geoffrey was married for ten years before his death and in all that time he did not manage to get his wife with child even once. It is little wonder that in a much shorter time I also failed to produce an heir.”

  Alais decided not to continue her questioning on what was obviously a painful subject. She vowed to herself to ask no further questions until she arrived at Liss and then she would have the rest of her life to find out about her husband’s family. She yawned and Hugh laughed. “I did not think you slept much last night, my lady.”

  “I slept well enough,” she responded, “but more would have been better.”

  “You can sleep now, if you wish. I will make sure you do not fall.”

  The invitation was all that Alais needed. She let her head fall back against Hugh’s chest. She felt his arm tighten around her waist. She felt wonderfully warm and comfortable. Seduced by the motion of the horse and the warmth of the body behind her, she fell asleep.

  She dozed on and off through the afternoon. Sometimes she awoke to silence, at other times the men were chatting inconsequentially. Once Hugh was singing a song of heroic deeds. He apologised for waking her, but she begged him to continue. He was a surprisingly good singer and when he had finished, Edmund sang an English song that was so old she could barely recognise the words. When it was over there was a silence and she realised it was her turn. She was no singer; she preferred to tell a story or to read to entertain, but she knew a song about Tristan and Isolda that suited her voice and she was still singing when they came in sight of the inn.

  It had grown colder throughout the day and Hugh did not have the heart to leave Alais in their unheated room at the inn while he and Edmund ate in a room heated by a blazing fire, so she stuffed her hair tightly into a cap and went with them. They sat in a corner of the common room, with Alais between the two men so that she was hidden from most observers. They did not speak to her, but only to one another and they did not engage any of the other guests in conversation. Hugh was reasonably convinced that no one suspected that the boy was a woman.

  That night Alais had no difficulty sleeping, despite having slept during the day. After dinner, all the travellers had stayed in the inn’s main room and told stories and sung songs and drunk small beer. In the warmth and relaxed atmosphere Alais had fallen asleep on Hugh’s shoulder and he had had to wake her before they could go back to their room.

  As they entered their room, Alais asked if she could brush out her hair, since they could pull the latch on the door to their room. Edmund immediately got into bed and pretended to go to sleep. Hugh decided to watch. Alais knew that he was watching and knew that she wanted him to watch. When she had finished and was about to begin plaiting her hair, she turned and was surprised to see Hugh sitting on her bed beside her.

  “Could I plait it for you? I used to do it for Isabella.”

  She nodded her assent and he began to take her hair into his hands. At first, she thought he would not get round to plaiting, as he seemed content to stroke her hair, but eventually he began to divide it into three. Once his fingers brushed the back of her neck and she felt a shiver of anticipation throughout her body. Hugh did not touch her again, as his fingers deftly wove her hair into a thick plait.

  She could imagine him sitting with his sister, just as fair as he was, talking together at the end of the day, but now neither of them broke the heavy silence and even Edmund was quiet as he lay abed. She only knew that Hugh was still behind her because she could hear him breathing. He must have leaned closer because she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. She turned her head slowly until she was facing him. The silence grew deeper as they looked into one another’s eyes. Alais could not pull herself away. She wanted to stay here, like this for ever. For once, she could not tell what Hugh was thinking. His eyes were black and expressionless and she saw herself reflected in them. His breath touched her lips. She wanted to pull back and she also wanted to move forward into the kiss that was waiting for her. Despite her awareness, she did not notice Hugh move. For one fleeting moment, his lips brushed hers and then he was gone. She blinked at the suddenness of it.

  Finally it was done and the spell broken. Hugh said nothing as he stood up and crossed the room to get into the bed with Edmund. Alais took off her tunic and lay down in her own bed, unsure what had happened. Hugh had kissed her, but not kissed her. That he had intended to kiss her, she did not doubt, but something had changed his mind. If he had kissed her, she would not have been able to resist; she would have returned it and thus betrayed her husband and herself.

  Had Hugh remembered this in time? Or had she broken the spell somehow? Whatever it was, she was now safe. She knew what to avoid because she knew she could not resist. She was not strong enough. Whatever happened, Hugh must not touch her again.

  The next day would be their last on the journey and Hugh hoped to arrive at Liss before midday.

  Alais’ horse was fully recovered and she was relieved; she had enjoyed riding with Hugh far too much. Today Hugh seemed returned to his former self, as if last night had not happened and he seemed to be treating her like a younger sister again. She, however, knew that she was in danger of falling in love with the tall knight. Such relationships were the subject of so many songs and tales that she had never taken them seriously. The songs and tales were about great heroes of the past; not about the daughter of a traitor on her way to her husband. She knew herself well enough to know that it was not just because he had saved her life that she loved him, nor was it because he had been kind to her when she was in distress. It was because when they had touched that first time and every time since, it was as if she became more fully herself. There was no better way to explain it.

  Whether she loved him or not, however, Alais could not become an adulterous. She could not even give the impression that she might become one. To bring more dishonour on her parents by throwing away the marriage that her mother had so carefully arranged for her was unthinkable. She could still remember the excitement at Leigh that had followed Sir William’s proposal. Even then she and her mother had remained clear-headed. Her mother had understood the situation exactly and once she had explained it, Alais had, too. She was not a child to romanticise the offer. It had taken place just after the death of Lady Maud. Her mother had explained that Sir William needed her in case his sons did not survive. It was not uncommon for noble families to die out and, having married for land or money the first time, Sir William was free to marry someone who would bear him more healthy sons. Alais and her mother had approved his clear thinking. In the four years since he had lost a grown son and a daughter. Alais knew what was expected of her and had taken care of her reputation and her health. She had learned all she could about herbs and how to look after herself and any children and she had studied the landowners around Leigh and seen how they treated their wives. Those who could bear children and bring them to adulthood were treated well. Those who could not were sometimes cast off and replaced, healthy wives were valued. Although she knew education was not prized as much, she had also studied hard with Father Guillaume. She
had studied with her brothers and then on her own when she outstripped them. Her father had always stressed the importance of his daughters learning as much as they could. They needed to be able to read and write and do their figures so that they could run their estates while their husbands were at war, but Alais enjoyed studying and went far beyond what her father had intended, to the extent that Father Guillaume often taught her alone because her brothers could not keep up, but more because he enjoyed teaching someone who was so willing to learn. When the last of her brothers had died, her uncle had still continued to teach her, although, latterly, it was more of a joint study. They tended to discuss issues of theology and politics and history. Sometimes she felt guilty because these were not such things that a woman should know, but she knew that her uncle enjoyed having someone to talk to about these matters. He missed the abbey he had been taken from when her father’s treachery had been discovered. Now Alais wondered what the priest at Liss would be like. She doubted she would be able to study with him. Her days would be full with managing the household of her husband. It was strange that she was already thinking of this as her last day of freedom. Her mother had not taught her to think of marriage as a prison, but her mother had not thought about a man such as Hugh; a man who warmed her blood like fire. A man whose touch could make her think of things no maid should know about.

  It was a bright and sunny day and Hugh and Alais talked as they rode beside one another. Hugh thought the safest topic was the battles he had fought in, although he suspected Alais would rather have heard more about his father or the household and retainers at Liss. Edmund joined in to correct Hugh when he thought he had the facts wrong or was exaggerating and Alais laughed at the apparent lack of respect of the servant for his master. Hugh did not mind. One of the few things that he knew he could rely on absolutely was his relationship with Edmund. He had learned that he could trust no one else, but that Edmund was completely reliable.

  During the night, or when he had broken his fast, he did not know which, Hugh had resolved that once they reached Liss he would give Alais up to his father and return to Hill or go back to King Edward in France, he had yet to decide. Either way, Alais would no longer be his responsibility and he would have no further contact with them – for many months, perhaps years.

  When Hugh judged that they were about an hour from Liss they stopped and Alais changed back into her own clothes, hidden from the road by some trees and Hugh’s cloak. He could tell that she felt more comfortable and contemplated the rest of the journey with pleasure. At last the manor house at Liss came into sight. It was like a small castle, built of stone with a moat and slightly raised up above the village that surrounded it. Hugh viewed it appraisingly. It was very defensible and he wished that he could do something of the same at Hill. The only benefit he had there was that any enemy would have to approach uphill and the villagers had a good view of the area around them. Perhaps he should build a tower to give them an even greater advantage. He resolved to write to Matthew and ask him to make enquiries about costs and materials. The village around Sir William’s house was surprisingly large and many women came out of the houses to greet Hugh and Edmund and to stare at their lord’s new lady. The people did not look as well-fed as his people at Hill and that angered him. His father was wealthy and that wealth should have meant that his father’s people were better off than this. He knew that his father considered it a weakness to consider his people’s well-being, but Hugh knew that villeins who were well-fed worked longer and harder. If they had decent accommodation, they were healthier. If they were healthier they had a longer working life and produced more wealth for their lord. None of these arguments had convinced his father, however.

  Word travelled quickly from the village to the manor and servants were waiting for them in the courtyard as they entered.

  “Where is my father?” asked Hugh of the steward.

  “Not here, my lord. A messenger came two days ago to call him to London to the king’s council.”

  Hugh wondered what could have happened that could be important enough to call his father to London. It was late in the year for the war in France to have started in earnest. The council might know about the raid on Southampton; messengers would certainly travel faster than he had. Perhaps the council blamed the southern lords for their lack of preparedness. Certainly Hugh held the burgesses of Southampton responsible for the ease with which the French had managed to overrun the town. He would make sure that the king knew his opinion on that matter.

  “He asked that you join him there when you returned.” the steward continued.

  “And what of his wife?” asked Hugh. “What is Lady Alais to do?”

  “He left no instructions regarding Lady Alais.”

  Hugh shook his head as he looked at her. “I am sorry, my lady. This is not what I expected.”

  “It is not your fault.”

  Whilst he had to agree with her that this turn of events could not have been predicted, she did not yet appreciate what it would mean for her that he would have to leave her alone here. For a moment he considered leaving Edmund behind. He would welcome the time with his family, but Hugh could see that he might have need of Edmund as a messenger. He would take a page with him, but he could trust only Edmund with important messages.

  “My lord?”

  He looked down at Alais.

  “I am sorry, my lady, I was thinking about what I would need to take with me. I will leave in the morning, but I would see you settled before I go.”

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  She smiled and he wondered how he would find the strength to leave her after all.

  Chapter Eight

  The servants led them into the manor house. Alais was glad that Hugh had allowed her to change back into her own clothes; she could not imagine arriving here dressed as a boy. The hall was as imposing as she had expected from the exterior. It seemed almost large enough to contain the whole manor house at Hill. Its walls were hung with beautiful tapestries and a number of tables crossed it, indicating the large number of retainers that Sir William fed at meal times. There was also a large fireplace, although no fire burned there. Despite its size and the very obvious wealth on display, it had an uncared for look about it. The rushes on the floor had not been changed for several days, if not weeks. The tables had not been cleaned properly after the last meal and were stained and dirty. She shivered. Having come in from the cold, she had not even noticed that the hall was cold and damp. Although it was only the beginning of October, there should have been a small fire in the fireplace. There had been a fire at Hill and there would have been a fire at Leigh.

  There was no one to greet them and Hugh sent a servant to fetch his brother and sister. He was terse with the servants. There was something about the manor house at Liss, Alais thought, that was bringing out the worst in him. He had not been pleased to discover that his father had gone to London and left no orders about her, but there was also something about the house itself that seemed to change him. While they waited, Hugh strode around the hall giving orders for his and Edmund’s departure in the morning. He never looked at her and she felt as if she had already been cast adrift to fend for herself in this alien place. Hugh was very different here; she thought him almost aggressive as he gave his orders. The servants bowed and rushed off to do his bidding. There was no cheerfulness here as there had been at Hill. There the servants had smiled as they went to do his bidding; here there were black glances and mutterings as soon as they thought they were out of earshot.

  “My lady?” It was Edmund. She turned and he was indicating that she should sit, while they waited.

  “Thank you, but I prefer to stand for the moment.” She ached from the long ride and tried to stretch the kinks out of her legs as she stood. She was grateful for his concern. After three days, she had become convinced that he hated her. It was only today that he had begun initiating conversations, showing that he was aware that she existed. She could not blame him. It was appar
ent that he cared for Hugh, although she was still not sure exactly what their relationship was. She smiled and Edmund nodded and walked away to exchange a few words with Hugh. They were interrupted by three small girls and a woman not much older than Alais. The girls flung themselves at Edmund and he knelt to kiss each one, then he took his wife in his arms and kissed her. Alais smiled to see Edmund so happy. It must have been hard for him to leave his family behind. Then it was Hugh’s turn to greet the girls. Alais sighed; she was no nearer understanding what held Edmund and Hugh together. Edmund introduced his wife to Alais, “Lady Alais, this is my wife Joan.” Alais realised that he was very proud of Joan. She was a plump, young woman, more used to smiles than frowns, gathering even a stranger such as Alais into her welcome and who expected everyone to love her. Alais was certainly prepared to do so. Anyone who could bring such smiles to the faces of the normally sombre Hugh and Edmund was worth cultivating. She found herself smiling in return. Joan curtsied. “She will look after you until other arrangements can be made,” continued Edmund. Alais smiled up at him. Just as Liss manor house seemed to be having an adverse affect on Hugh, it was having a good influence on Edmund. Alais put that down to the presence of his wife and daughters.

  “I wish I could leave Edmund to look after you as well,” said Hugh, coming over to join them, “but he must come with me.” He looked unhappy at the thought. Here, at last, was the Hugh she thought she knew, kind and considerate.

  “I am sure I will be well looked after here,” said Alais and was dismayed when Hugh did not smile and agree with her.