The Traitor's Daughter

by Munday, April

  It had not been a difficult decision to stay. She still could not really hope that Hugh would live beyond this day and then she would be free to return to Liss. She did not yet dare think about what a future without Hugh meant. He had been her only hope for a bearable life in his father’s house. Now there was nothing in her future but a vast emptiness. Since she had left Leigh she had lost her mother and now she would lose the man she loved.

  Nonetheless, she had to return to her husband. She was promised to him and would not break her word. An extra day on the journey could easily be explained to Sir William. Even some form of the truth would surely be acceptable to him. This was his son who had saved her life. Even Sir William could not think the worst of her for spending a day trying to ease his death in return, but she remembered what Edmund had said about the alliance that Sir William had imagined between her and Hugh and wondered why he thought that two people who were perfect strangers, and one of them his own heir, should join together against him.

  Hugh moaned and she wiped his face with the cloth. How she loved his face and his inability to lie to her. Or anyone else, she realised now. Sir William had known his son far longer than she had and he must have known exactly what was going through Hugh’s mind when he sent the cloth to her before Christmas. Sir William had drawn his own conclusion. It was an incorrect conclusion and he did not have all the facts when he had decided not to trust his son, but Alais could see what had happened and knew that her husband now had even more reason to treat her badly.

  The day passed slowly. In time, Hugh’s breathing became even shallower. He stopped breathing and she thought this must surely be the end, but each time she leant over him to see if he were dead, he managed to draw in a small breath and then another. As it started to grow dark in the late afternoon, she noticed a change.

  “He sleeps!” she whispered in surprise, watching Hugh’s chest rise and fall at a more regular rate.

  “I thought he was already asleep,” admitted Edmund, confused, from the hearth where he was heating up some of the ingredients of her poultice.

  “No, before he was unconscious. Now he sleeps.”

  “And is this good?” asked Edmund.

  “He should be dead,” she reminded him, “not sleeping. This is very good.”

  As the evening wore on Hugh’s breathing became easier and she began to hope that he might live after all. That night she refused to sleep, sitting instead by Hugh’s side and her vigil was rewarded when she realised that Hugh was no longer feverish. She washed his face and upper body and waited for a while. When she finally touched him, he was cool and dry. Could it be that he would live?

  Chapter Fifteen

  When Alais awoke, it was dark and her mother was stroking her hair. Her touch was gentle, rhythmic and very comforting. Alais sighed and shifted slightly so that her mother could reach more easily. She seemed to be floating on a cloud, but paid the thought little heed, drifting off to sleep again, wrapped in the warm cocoon that was her mother’s love. Then she remembered that her mother was dead. For an awful moment she thought she must be dead herself, who else could be touching her like this? Then she realised that her head rested on warm, bony flesh. She had fallen asleep on Hugh. Her weight must be uncomfortable for him.

  “My lord?” she muttered sleepily.

  “Go back to sleep, Alais. All is well.” Relief swept through her and she felt her eyes fill with tears. He was going to live!

  She made to lift her head, but he held her down.

  “I must be causing you pain.”

  “Less than if you were to move away.” His voice was weak from the fever, but he spoke clearly and sanely. Nevertheless, she did move turning her face to his, brushing her lips across his shoulder as if by accident. She felt him shiver as she made herself comfortable again and his hand cupped her face, his thumb gently stroking her cheek in the silence. He held her like that until he slept again. Alais knew that she should sit up, or Edmund would find them like that in the morning, but she was too happy to move and soon fell asleep herself.

  When Alais woke again, Edmund was moving quietly around the room. She could not work out what he was doing, but it seemed important to him and he could not spare her any attention. She sat up and looked around. Edmund had put bread, cheese and beer on the small table and moved it next to her. He was on the other side of the room, doing something with his back to her. She had never seen him concentrate so intently on something. She reached out and took the mug of beer. The noise seemed to attract Edmund’s attention and he crossed the room to her. “How is he?” Alais could not stop the smile that immediately spread across her face. “I think you can go to Edwina and ask her for a little porridge, if she has some. Hugh will be hungry when he wakes up again.”

  Edmund’s smile matched her own. “He will live?”

  “He will live.”

  She was not sure which of them was the more surprised when he bent down and kissed her cheek, “Thank you, my lady.” He turned quickly and left the room. While he was gone, Alais picked up the table and moved it back to the window, where she sat and broke her fast. When Edmund returned she indicated that he should sit next to Hugh. In the same way that he had not noticed that she had fallen asleep with her head on his friend’s shoulder, so she did not notice, because she was looking at something extremely interesting out of the window, the swift kiss that Edmund placed on Hugh’s forehead as he sat beside him.

  Hugh’s first reaction to finding himself awake had been surprise. Dead men surely did not wake up in gloomy, firelit rooms with the heads of angels on their shoulders. It was only when he had the strength to move his head that he realised that it was Alais’ head on his shoulder and he was not dead. He had dreamed so often these last few days of waking with Alais in his bed that his next thought was that this was another dream, but in his dreams he had never felt the pain that was dimly edging its way into his consciousness. Such pain! But he could bear it because Alais was here and he loved her. Before he could think about it, he slowly lifted his hand, dragged it across his chest and began to stroke her hair. It was as soft as he remembered. It had not occurred to him that Alais would not welcome his actions, she could not turn him away. She had not yet admitted that she loved him, but she had come to London to save him, surely that meant she was not indifferent to him. Even if she regarded him as an older brother, she must have some affection for him. Then he remembered why she must not show him what she felt, if she felt anything.

  The pain was growing worse, but he would not give in to it, he doubted he would ever hold Alais like this again. When she woke, she would not let him caress her like this. She would move away from him and he would wish that he had died anyway. There was nothing for him now. He must either live at Liss and watch his father kill her little by little, or live at Hill and imagine it. Even at Liss he could not protect her. No one could come between a man and his wife. He had tried with his mother, but by the time he was old enough to understand, it was too late. He had tried with Elizabeth and Geoffrey had laughed at him. He could not even say that it was because of Elizabeth that he had killed Geoffrey; it had simply been the child and what Geoffrey was doing to him. No, Hugh knew that he would not interfere between his father and his wife, no matter how much he loved Alais.

  He heard her voice and it roused him from his reverie. Now it would end, he thought, now she will leave me and I can never touch her again, but she kissed him, he was sure she had kissed him, it had not been an accident. And she let him touch her face and hold her through the night. He knew he would sleep before he had enough of it and he did, but he woke again and felt her sweet face beneath his hand. Then he knew that what he had felt for her before had been a pale imitation of love. She was his, she loved him and he would do everything necessary to save her even if it destroyed his own life. He did not know how long they had been in Thomas’ house; he thought it might not be much more than two days. If it still snowed Edmund could truthfully say that it had delayed them and he
and Alais could return to Liss leaving him to recover in Southwark. There would be no need to say that they had spent time with Hugh. He could appear himself some weeks later, having been cared for by Edwina. His father acknowledged none of his illegitimate children, apart from Edmund, so he would never know the lie, unless he cared to find out. By then his marriage to Alais would have been consummated. The thought gave Hugh more pain than his wound, but it was the only hope for Alais. But Alais and Edmund must leave today or it would be too late.

  When Hugh woke later in the morning, it was Edmund who held him and helped him to eat a little of the thin porridge that Edwina had made for him. While he ate, he stared at Alais, frowning and she wondered what troubled him. She hoped there was not some other wound that they had missed that caused him pain as he tried to sit up. After he had eaten, Edmund tried to make him lie down again, but he struggled to remain sitting until Edmund gave in and continued to hold him, shifting his own position to provide greater comfort for them both.

  “You must leave me now,” Hugh said, as they both looked at him. “You have been here too many days.”

  Edmund and Alais exchanged glances. How strange it felt to be allied with Edmund against Hugh. Hugh noticed and tried to glare at Edmund, but he could not turn his neck enough and moving his body caused him a sharp pain.

  “No,” said Alais, simply.

  “I am not going to die. It would be better for you to go to Liss now.”

  Edmund grunted, “You know it will not be safe for Lady Alais to return to Liss now unless you are with her and strong enough to protect her.”

  Hugh became even paler and Alais thought they must have tired him too much. “I could not even protect my mother and my sister from him. How will I be able to protect you?”

  “You cannot,” she admitted. “But Edmund is correct, my chances are better if you are there, too.” She doubted it would make any difference whether he were there or not, she just wanted to spend as much time as possible with him before her husband finally claimed her for his own.

  “I should have let those French swine kill you. At least it would have been quick.”

  Alais was shaken. “I am glad you did not,” she said quickly and as brightly as possible, blinking away the tears that threatened to stream from her eyes.

  “Put me down, Edmund.”

  “Hugh, please tell me you would not rather that I were dead.” Alais grasped his hand and held it tightly in both of hers.

  “He will kill you, as he killed them. You thought you sent me to my death, but you want me to take you to yours a second time.” Released from Edmund’s grasp, he turned his face to the wall so that Alais could no longer see it and tried to pull his hand away. She released it rather than cause him further discomfort.

  Seeing Edmund’s face grow angry, Alais shook her head, then turned her face away so that he could not see her tears, as she gave them release, unable to hold them back any longer.

  The day seemed interminable to Alais. She and Edmund still kept watch beside Hugh, but all three of them were ill-tempered when Hugh was awake and Hugh seemed lost without Edmund’s unquestioning support. They should have been joyful that Hugh was saved, but so much had changed and Alais did not believe that things could return to the way they had been before. Edwina brought them food in the evening and was pleased to be able to say that Hugh looked much better, although he was not awake to acknowledge her presence. Alais had no appetite, but ate to keep her strength up.

  As she ate, she sat by the bed, watching Hugh. What did he fear for her, she wondered, that he thought it would be better if she were dead? He had said that his father had killed his mother and sister. Having seen Hilda, Alais could believe that sharing Sir William’s bed was not something that led to a long and healthy life, but life itself was precarious. She alone of her siblings survived. They had died from war, disease and accident. Life with Sir William could be no more dangerous than life with another husband, even with Hugh himself. She could not wish herself dead without having known Hugh. His love and friendship meant more to her than anything. She had lost everything else that was dear to her: her family, her home and her friends. Now she had Hugh’s love.

  Hugh did not speak for the rest of the day. Alais did not know how he could do it. Edmund was desperate to share his happiness with him and Hugh himself seemed very unhappy for a man who had so narrowly escaped death and was with his best friend and the woman he loved. Not only did Hugh not speak, he avoided catching her eye. Edmund grew more sullen as the day passed and went to bed as soon as they had eaten in the evening.

  “Wake me up when you wish to sleep, my lady,” he said, as he settled beneath the blankets and Alais was a left alone with a man who thought she would be better off dead.

  The days gradually became indistinguishable to Alais. There was no more talk of Alais and Edmund returning to Liss after Hugh’s first attempt to make them leave. For the first two days Hugh slept. When he was awake he was silent and thoughtful. Alais wondered whether he said anything to Edmund when she left them alone, but there was no sign from either of them that he had. On the third day it was as if the previous two days had not happened and Hugh involved himself in their conversations. Alais could almost persuade herself that he had been too ill and tired to speak before, but she could not quite manage it.

  The three of them would break their fast together each morning. Alais was heartened to see Hugh’s appetite gradually returning. While Edmund washed Hugh, she took Full Moon and Edmund’s horse out for a short walk through the cold, ice-covered streets.

  Hugh would often be asleep again when she returned and that was the time that she taught Edmund to read. He had resisted at first; she did not know why he did not want to learn. It seemed to her to be a necessity, especially as she now knew that Edmund wished to be a steward and not a soldier. Eventually, he gave way and on the second day of their lessons became very enthusiastic. He smiled a lot and laughed. This was a new Edmund and at first she felt uncomfortable with him. Gradually she realised that this was the true Edmund, the one that Hugh knew. The Edmund that she knew had been false and his only purpose, she now realised, had been to distance her from Hugh. She began to enjoy his company and laugh with him.

  In the afternoons she read to them from her father’s book. It was slow, as she had to translate the book into English for Edmund. Sometimes she and Hugh would argue over the correct translation of a word or phrase. The first time this happened Edmund just watched in amazement. The second time, he joined in and Alais realised that he had been using her translation as a means of learning Anglo-Norman as well. She laughed at Hugh’s expression when he, too, understood that Edmund already understood a lot of Anglo-Norman.

  “You will have no more secrets from Edmund, that much is clear,” she said.

  “I have very few secrets from Edmund as it is.” Hugh frowned. “The few that I have, I want to keep.” And the moment was spoiled as Alais realised that Edmund did not know that Hugh had killed his brother. Part of her was glad that she knew something about Hugh that Edmund did not know; part of her recognised the burden that Hugh had carried alone and the depth of trust in her that had led him to share it with her.

  Alais was surprised that deeper intimacy with Hugh meant growing closer to Edmund as well. Edmund became her champion, shielding her from the more unpleasant tasks of caring for a sick man and ensuring that she took care of her own needs. Hugh soon learned that it was pointless to argue with him when he stood up for Alais against his lord’s demands, but not before he had caused Alais many tears. He wanted her to tell him that she loved him as much as he loved her. That she did love him seemed so obvious to Alais that she wondered he needed to hear it. Alais grew weary of telling him that she belonged to her husband and not to him. She almost grew weary of reminding herself, but when she did, she remembered her mother’s last words to her and knew that she had to obey her mother as she always had.

  “You do not need to return to Liss,” he said one af
ternoon when he and Edmund were playing chess. “You could go with me.”

  Alais and Edmund stared at him.

  “And then what?”

  He looked blank.

  “And then what would happen?” demanded Alais.

  “You are a fool,” said Edmund, angrily.

  “Did I ask you to join this conversation?” asked Hugh, sweeping the pieces onto the floor.

  “You would try to browbeat Lady Alais into doing what is wrong.”

  “Leave the room,” shouted Hugh, turning pale in his anger.

  “You could not marry her,” explained Edmund, putting his face so close to Hugh’s that Alais could no longer see it. “She is already your father’s wife. The betrothal will not be dissolved. Would you disgrace her by making her your mistress?”

  Alais gasped and Edmund avoided Hugh’s swinging fist by leaning back into his seat.

  “You are hurt, my lord,” said Alais, dully as Hugh clutched at the wound in his side.

  Hugh shook his head as he stared into the fire. Slowly, he turned to face her. “I had not thought,” he explained.

  “You are unwell, the pain clouds your mind.”

  He shook his head again. “No, my lady, I thought only about what I wanted, not what it would mean for you. I will not mention it again.”

  It was Thomas who first asked why the physician was still in attendance, when Hugh was so much recovered. One Sunday morning when Hugh was well enough to be left alone, Edmund and Alais had gone to mass with Thomas’ family. Alais thought that avoiding mass would cause more comment than giving the family the opportunity to look at her and talk to her.