by Anne Herries
‘So do all wantons cry,’ he replied. ‘I have heard it from other cheating women. Do not imagine that your lies will be believed, Elona. Perhaps when you have learned proper humility, when you truly repent of your ways, then—’ He realised what he was saying and broke off, unsure whether he was more angry with himself or her. It would be wrong to offer hope when he did not know whether he could ever forgive her. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out of the large tent, leaving her staring after him in dismay.
Sinking to her knees, Elona covered her face with her hands as the sobs of despair broke from her. Such cruel, cruel words. Stefan hated her, despised her, believed her wanton and false, and she had lost him.
‘Do not break your heart, my lady,’ Bethany said, coming to kneel on the ground beside her and put her arms about her. ‘He is wicked to say such things to you and so I shall tell him. You are as chaste as the moon and undeserving of his unkindness.’
‘No, you must not,’ Elona cried and clutched at her friend in fright. ‘Please do not, Bethany. He would not believe you. He would think you lied for my sake. He does not believe that I love him…’
Bethany rocked her in her arms, her face stony. No matter what her mistress said now, there would come a time when she would change her mind, and then Bethany would take great pleasure in telling Sir Stefan what a fool he had been to treat Elona so harshly!
Elona travelled the last few leagues in silence as they neared the manor of Banewulf. She had not seen Stefan since they started out and she believed that he rode ahead of the main body, obviously preferring his own company.
‘You must not fear your reception at Banewulf,’ Sir Ralph said, bringing his horse to walk beside hers. Her white, strained face had moved him and he wondered what had taken place between her and Stefan that first night. It had clearly not been a happy night for either of them. Stefan had been in a foul mood throughout their journey, speaking to no one, and Elona was obviously distraught. ‘Lady Alayne will not blame you for what has happened, nor indeed will our son. I am certain that my wife will welcome you to her home as warmly as if nothing had happened.’
‘I thank you for your kind words, sir.’
Elona tried to smile, but could not quite manage it. She believed that her heart was broken and she did not know how she would manage to live through the months and years before Stefan sent for her.
Surely he would send for her in time? What would she do if he turned his face against her? When no child was forthcoming, she would be branded a liar. She might as well get herself to a nunnery, she thought miserably. Without Stefan there was no hope of happiness for her.
She saw him briefly as the main party rode into the walled courtyard of the attractive manor house. It was, she thought, much the same size as her father’s house, but looked as if it had been much improved in recent times. There were more windows than she was used to and the house was designed for comfort rather than as the fortress her father’s had been. True, there were stout walls surrounding the courtyard and an iron portcullis guarding the moat, but once inside the defences it was pleasant and she caught a glimpse of a garden with pretty, shady walks where the lady of the house might take her ease.
She had hoped that Stefan might come to help her from her horse as he had sometimes in the past, but instead it was Dickon who helped her dismount. She looked for her husband, but saw that he was talking to some of his men, and then she lost sight of him as a lady came to greet her. Looking at her in some trepidation, Elona was struck by the serenity of her manner and her beauty. Although covered by a cap, strands of hair the colour of spun gold escaped to curl about a face of such sweetness that Elona was immediately drawn to her, losing her fear of rejection as the lady opened her arms to embrace her.
‘My dearest child,’ Lady Alayne cried and embraced her as a small sob escaped Elona. ‘There is no need for tears. You have been through a terrible time, but you are safe now, my dear. We shall look after you at Banewulf until such time as Stefan has prepared his house for your coming.’
‘Prepared…’ Elona faltered, gazing at her uncertainly.
‘Of course,’ Alayne replied. ‘He has only recently returned from his travels and has not had time to put the house to rights. He has explained to me that, although it is a good property, it is sorely in need of the comforts that a lady has the right to expect. As I imagine he has told you, he will go on ahead to set everything to rights and then we shall arrange for you to go to him.’
‘I see…’ Elona swallowed nervously, her throat tight. ‘I would not mind that so very much.’
‘You would prefer to go with him, of course.’ Alayne looked understanding. ‘I would feel the same in your place, Elona, but men see things very differently. He cares for you a great deal and has only your comfort in mind. Besides, he is set on the plan and I think Stefan is not a man to be persuaded against his will.’ There was a twinkle in her eyes. ‘He is much like his father and I have learned not to try when the cause is lost.’
‘No, I know that he is not…’ Elona faltered. ‘I mean…he is stern sometimes…but at others he can be kind.’
Alayne touched her pale cheek. ‘Do not distress yourself. Stefan has told me that you have been through a terrible time these past few weeks. He believes that it would not be right to force his needs as a husband on you until you have had time to recover from your ordeal. Such consideration is not always met with in a husband, my love, and I think he is very wise to give you a little time to grieve for your father and to recover your spirits. Besides, I shall be glad to have you with me for a time. I have been looking forward to seeing you and we shall all welcome you here as one of our family.’
How foolish she had been to dread her reception here! It could not have been kinder, Elona thought, though given her choice she would have gone with Stefan. But he did not want her and she could not force him to take her with him.
‘Come, I shall take you inside,’ Alayne was saying. ‘You must be weary and will need to rest before we sup.’
‘Thank you,’ Elona said, casting a wistful glance at Stefan. He had his back to her and she believed that he was making plans to depart almost immediately. Would he leave without even saying goodbye to her? Elona’s heart was heavy at the thought. How could she bear it if he went without so much as a word to her?
She was drawn away, taken into the house and up a stone stairway that led to an upper landing where several rooms were situated. Her father’s house had been built in the old way, with a great hall and a great chamber above, her own solar in a tower away from the main keep. However, this house was of another design entirely and she saw that the passages led to various rooms that all opened on to the narrow landings.
‘How different this is,’ she observed. ‘It is much more comfortable and warmer than my father’s house—and much nicer than Baron Danewold’s castle.’ A shiver ran through her as she recalled the awful little room where she had been kept a prisoner. ‘That was horrible…’
‘Do not think about that time,’ Alayne told her and pressed her hand. ‘It is over now and no one will speak of it again. You are safe with us, I promise you. Here is your room, Elona. I shall leave you to rest for a while—and then you shall meet the rest of my family. They are eager to meet you, but I thought it best to let you settle in a little first.’
‘You are so kind. I do not deserve it…’
‘Of course you deserve our kindness,’ Alayne replied. ‘You have done nothing of which you have cause to be ashamed. The Baron abducted you and the rest is nothing.’
Was it possible that no one had told Lady Alayne of her shame? Elona had thought that she must have been told, but now she realised that perhaps it was not so. Both Sir Ralph and Stefan must have conspired to keep it private, for her sake, she sensed, so that she would not be exposed to more shame. Her eyes filled with tears as she hung her head, overwhelmed by their forbearance.
She did not deserve it!
‘You will feel bett
er soon,’ Alayne said and went away, more than ever sure that Stefan had been right to put his wife’s needs before his own.
Elona barely glanced around the chamber, but she realised immediately that it was furnished for comfort and contained many items that would make her stay here pleasant. There were stools and chests, and velvet hangings to hide the bareness of stone walls and bring warmth to the room. Also a great bed with silk curtains and covers…if only she could share it with Stefan that night!
The door opened behind her and she turned, expecting to see one of her women, but instead Stefan stood looming on the threshold, a brooding expression in his eyes as he stared at her. She trembled, wondering what to expect. He would be within his rights as a husband to beat her—and he looked angry enough to do it.
‘Lady Alayne knows nothing of what has happened between us,’ he said, echoing Elona’s thoughts. ‘She believes that we fell in love on the journey from France, that it is a true marriage—and that I go on ahead to make ready for your coming.’
‘You seek to hide my shame,’ Elona said. ‘But what will she think when you do not send for me?’
‘I have not yet decided what to do with you.’ His eyes seemed to harden for a moment, sending shivers down her spine. ‘It may be that I can find a use for you in my household, Elona. For the moment I am too angry. I might do you harm if you were near, but one day I may be able to find forgiveness in my heart. If that day comes I shall send—until then I expect you to behave modestly and not shame me further.’
He thought so ill of her! Her chest felt as if it were being crushed with the grief his words roused in her. It was so unfair that she should have lost his respect, for she had told her lies to save her honour—and yet she had lied to his father, that could not be denied. The knowledge of her guilt shamed her so that she could not meet his accusing gaze.
‘Yes, Stefan.’ Her cheeks were pale, her eyes filled with un-shed tears, but her head was high. She knew that she deserved this of him, though at any other time she would have flown into a temper at such words. ‘I shall do nothing to shame you. I give you my word.’
Why did she not fly into a temper with him? Stefan did not like to see her thus, though she deserved it. ‘I cannot answer for my actions if I should hear otherwise.’
‘You may believe that I shall behave with all modesty, my lord.’ Her face was pale, her hands clasped in front of her as though she held them to keep from trembling.
‘Very well.’ Stefan felt the ache nagging at his insides, his anger warring with the deeper need to hold her in his arms, to feel her soft lips beneath his and the satin of her flesh pressed close to him. Another moment of this and he would lose control and ravish her, perhaps hurt her with the ferocity of his feelings. It must not be! He would not give way to the beast inside him! For then he would be shamed. ‘I am leaving now and I but came to say goodbye.’
Elona’s heart was surely breaking. ‘Must you leave so soon?’ she asked, fighting her tears. ‘Could you not stay a few days? If we could but talk…’
‘Elona….’ Stefan hesitated, and for a moment she thought that he would weaken, then he shook his head, more for his own thoughts than her pleading, she suspected. ‘It is for the best. You do not know the beast that lives inside a man, Elona. You have roused that beast in me and I dare not let it roam free. Give me time to think and then perhaps we may meet again.’
‘Fare you well, husband,’ Elona said, the remnants of her pride returning as she lifted her head and met his gaze. ‘I shall think of you and I shall pray for your forgiveness, though I know I have wronged you and I do not blame you for your anger.’
She was so meek! It was unlike her. He felt the prick of suspicion and knew that he dare not relent towards her. If she planned to slip away to her lover and he discovered it he didn’t know what he’d do.
‘It is not easy to forgive, lady.’
‘No, but I do beg that you will find it in your heart in time, for I am sincere in my regret.’
Stefan inclined his head, but said nothing more as he went out. Elona stared after him, feeling as if her heart was being torn to shreds. She longed to run after him, to beg him to take her with him, to love her, make her his wife, treat her as he would. She did not care what he did to her, as long as he did not ignore her.
But she could say none of the things in her heart, because he did not wish to hear them. She could only wait and pray—pray that he would send for her one day, and that he would learn to forgive her.
‘I love you so,’ she whispered. ‘May God forgive me for what I have done. I love you so much that if you never send for me I shall want only to die…’
Chapter Eight
‘You are so beautiful,’ Marguerite said, smiling at Elona shyly. ‘I am not surprised that Sir Stefan stole you from my brother.’
Elona had been told that the Lady Alayne’s daughter had been named for a friend she had been fond of, though her son had, of course, been named for her. The girl was young yet but bidding to be a great beauty, and her nature was gentle and sweet.
‘No, no, it was not like that,’ Elona protested, her cheeks colouring. She liked Marguerite and they had spent many companionable hours together these past few weeks. Lady Alayne’s shy daughter had shown her about the manor, telling her where to find certain berries and herbs that grew in the gardens or in the meadows about the village, and introducing her to the people who worked at Banewulf. It was like a small town in itself, with craftsmen of all kinds at work in the courtyards, which were sheltered by the stout walls against both the sometimes-harsh winds and attack from raiding parties. ‘We…fell in love.’
‘That is so exciting,’ Marguerite said, her pretty face glowing. ‘Just like the songs the troubadours sing when they come to entertain us on feast days. Besides, Alain did not want to be married. He told me so.’
‘Alain told you that he had no wish to marry?’ Elona’s attention was caught. She had found Marguerite’s brother charming, so different from Stefan with his merry smiles and ready jests. But he was seldom in her company, merely greeting her with a soft word in passing, and she had assumed that the reason he had avoided her was because he thought himself cheated of his bride. ‘When was that?’
‘Oh, months ago.’ Marguerite shrugged her shoulders carelessly. ‘He wants to go abroad and fight wars. It is so foolish when he could stay here with us and be safe.’
‘Alain wants to fight?’
‘If there were a worthy cause, he would go tomorrow,’ Marguerite said and pulled a face. ‘His head is full of dreams. He wants to win honours for himself as Stefan did, but I think that he will find he does not like war.’
‘Why do you say that? I have heard he has won several tourneys.’
‘Mock battles,’ Marguerite replied scornfully and tossed her head. ‘My brother cannot bear to see a bird with a broken wing. He will risk being bitten to free an injured fox from a trap. How could he kill anyone?’
‘Ah, I see.’ Elona understood and smiled. Although she had seen little of Alain de Banewulf, she had thought him gentle and kind, a much softer man than Stefan. ‘But a man cannot always stay safe in his father’s house, Marguerite.’
‘That is what Alain says. I dare say he will go, though I am not sure what will become of him.’
‘Perhaps he will fall in love and bring his bride home.’
‘Perhaps…’ Marguerite looked at her curiously. ‘When are you going to join Stefan? Surely the house is ready by now?’
‘When—when he sends word,’ Elona said, her cheeks heating beneath the girl’s clear gaze. How could she answer when the truth was so terrible, so shaming?
Three weeks had passed since she’d arrived at Banewulf, three whole weeks during which she had shed too many tears. There was a bitter ache inside her, a sharp regret for what she had done, and the punishment she must bear because of it. She would never cease to wish that she had not told such wicked lies, for though life was good here at Banewulf and she had
been made welcome, her heart was sore.
When would she see Stefan again? Would he ever forgive her?
Stefan looked moodily at the work the stone mason had just completed on the east wing, the wing he had planned for his wife’s apartments. It was very fine, but it gave him little satisfaction. He had set the work in motion before he went to Banewulf and now it was finished. The furnishings he had ordered when in London had arrived that morning on a score of wagons, and all that needed doing was for the goods to be unpacked and carted upstairs for the rooms to be ready.
For what? There was now no hope of the simple, uncomplicated life he had envisaged when he had, half in jest, asked Lady Alayne to find him a bride. Love had not entered into his plans, especially the consuming, jealous burning that filled him now, keeping him wakeful and souring his thoughts.
Damn Elona! She tortured him day and night, for he could not be free of her.
There was not one night when he had not thought of her. Often he paced the floor of his chamber as the memory of her pale face lingered in his mind, making him feel guilty for speaking to her so harshly. He had seemed to see a terrible hurt in her lovely eyes, and her manner had been so subdued. Had he done that to her—or was it Danewold’s men?
How had she managed to get beneath his skin, so that the thought of her never gave him peace? He could see her at every turn, smell the scent of her perfume, which was like no other, feel her pliant body close to his as his cried out with need.
What was he to do about her? Stefan could not answer. His first white-hot anger had cooled a little, but he was afraid it might return the moment he gazed on her lovely face. Especially as her waist began to thicken and her womb swell with another man’s child. Therein lay the rub, for he knew his jealousy would prick at him like poison thorns and he could not answer for his temper.
He would rather die than harm her, and he was shamed that his jealousy rode him like a devil. He ought to be able to find the strength to face her with equanimity, to forgive her, take her into his household as his chatelaine and in time…the mother of his own children.