by Anne Herries
It was only to be expected that she would hate him. He could not blame her for wanting to leave him—but he could not lose her now! She was his, his wife, his love, and his reason for living. He could never let her go. Somehow he must win her trust and confidence, if not her love.
He had hardly slept, rousing his men early to the hunt, glad of the need to seek provisions to ease his restless mind. He had been so sure that he had killed Elona’s love for him. Why should she care for a man who had treated her so ill? If she insisted on leaving, in the end he must let her go, and he would never force her to accept him in her bed though already his body burned for her.
He had returned to the house that afternoon determined to see her, to beg her forgiveness, but Piers had detained him, and Elona had come to him. Not to demand her freedom, though she had done so as an afterthought, but on behalf of a serving woman.
It was not the action of a woman who hated. Had she hated him, she would not have thought of approaching him on such a matter. She was angry, but anger cooled and then…was it possible that she would find it in her heart to forgive him?
He had no right to expect it, yet something in her manner had given him hope. She had accused him of being a savage brute, of needing to learn the arts of love. Well, perhaps one day she would allow him to show her that he was not quite the clumsy oaf she thought him.
A little smile touched his mouth. He had believed all chance of happiness lost, but now he thought that it might not be so—all he needed was to have patience.
Elona had dressed with care that evening. She wore the tunic and surcote she had first worn for the King’s banquet, her hair bound in a smooth coronet on the top of her head with silver and pearl pins, a cap of silver wires holding the veil that fell down her back past her waist. Her undergown had a long train that dragged on the floor behind her almost like a serpent’s tail, and she wore the chain Stefan had given her about her throat.
She looked proud and beautiful, a queen amongst women, that any man might be proud to call his wife. And she was his! Stefan thought, his eyes devouring her as she walked slowly towards him.
It was a week since his hunting trip and Elona’s angry outburst. Since then she had maintained a cool dignity in her manner when speaking to him. Stefan in his turn had behaved with polite courtesy, giving little or no indication of his feelings towards her. He had neither insisted on his rights as a husband nor apologised further for his behaviour. Instead, he had tried to please her in small ways.
A travelling minstrel had been welcomed to their hall and Stefan had paid him well to stay and sing love songs for them. One night they danced and Stefan led the company with Elona, treating her as if she were made of some precious material that must not be damaged. His nearness had seemed to affect her during the dance, but afterwards when he smiled at her, the cool smile was back in place.
He had asked their neighbours to dine with them; a genial knight, his plump, pretty wife and two young daughters. Elona had seemed pleased with the company and the daughters had stayed two days at Sanscombe before being escorted to their home. Arrangements had been made for them all to meet again soon for the winter fayre that would come to the villages.
‘You look beautiful,’ Stefan said, rising as she came to join him at the high table that night. ‘I trust you are well, my lady?’
‘Quite well, thank you.’ Elona inclined her head. She had taken refuge in dignity, otherwise he found it all too easy to provoke her. ‘My women have been mending your shirts, my lord. Indeed, they were in sore need of it. If you will send for the stuffs, we shall make you some new ones. You are in dire need of some refurbishment to your attire.’
‘I am but a rough soldier,’ Stefan replied, a twinkle in his eye. She had asked for any mending and he had given her a pile of his oldest shirts, some fit only for the rubbish, to keep her busy. ‘You must order material for my shirts as you see fit, my lady.’
Elona sensed the mockery beneath his easy words and wondered if he had played a trick on her. ‘Melise grows stronger every day,’ she said softly enough so that only he could hear. ‘I dare say she will be fit enough to travel soon.’
‘Is she not happy with us? I thought that she had come to stay for the rest of her life.’
‘You mock me, my lord!’
‘Do I, Elona? Are you so very anxious to leave us? I had thought you found plenty to occupy you here?’ If not, he must find her more mending!
‘I dare say there is enough to keep me busy for a few weeks.’
‘Oh, then the snows will be upon us and you would find it hard to travel. You should make up your mind to stay until the spring.’
‘I shall leave before the snow comes!’
‘But you cannot leave without seeing that we have enough provisions for the winter,’ Stefan replied. ‘We shall hunt again soon and your women will be needed to help salt the excess. My people do not have your skills. You would not have us starve this winter?’
‘You will have more than enough to keep from starving.’
‘But we must think of the villagers, Elona. You know that pigs and also a cow were lost. They will need several barrels of good salt pork to keep them from going hungry.’
‘You have a silver tongue, sir,’ she said, giving him a darkling glance.
‘You surprise me with your compliment, Elona. I believed you thought me an ignorant oaf?’
‘You are too clever for you own good, sir!’
‘Indeed, I am a fool,’ Stefan said and the smile had left his eyes. ‘If I were not, I should have recognised what a precious treasure was mine and treated it with care.’
Elona saw the burning heat in his eyes and averted her head as her heart skipped a beat. How could she remain angry with him when he did everything to please her? He was courteous and gentle, his smile teasing her out of her moods, try as she might to retreat behind a mask of cool indifference.
It was useless to pretend to herself that she hated him. She had asked three times that she be allowed to return to France, but each time he found a new excuse. He did not intend that she should leave, and, if she looked into her heart, she did not want to go. Sanscombe Manor had become her home, its people her people. She enjoyed being mistress here and took pleasure in the improvements she and her women had made.
But how could she stay when he did not love her?
Oh, he had apologised for hurting her, and he had done all that he could to make up for his unkindness that night, but he did not love her. He had been forced to marry her against his will and nothing could change that.
‘Father Fernando tells me that you make good progress with your studies, Elona.’
‘I believe he is pleased with me,’ she replied. ‘I shall miss him when he leaves us next month.’
‘He wishes to make a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. We cannot forbid him, Elona, for it is every man’s right if he so wishes. I have told him his place will always be here if he wishes to return, and he has arranged for his replacement—a kindly man who will not try us too much if we do not always follow a strict doctrine.’
Elona nodded her agreement. It might be years before the priest came back to them, if he ever did. So much could happen on a long and dangerous journey.
‘Your brother is to leave with Duke Richard when they set out on the crusade, I believe?’
‘You had a letter from my stepmother this morning, I think?’ Stefan’s eyes were shadowed for a moment. ‘I trust that she and my father are well?’
Was he still angry because of what had happened? She had believed that he had begun to forgive her for her lies, to accept what could not be changed—but that was surely anger deep in his eyes? She sensed a change in his mood.
‘My lord?’ She laid her hand on his arm and he shook his head, a wintry smile on his lips.
‘Nay, Elona. I am not angry, merely thoughtful. My mind dwells in the past tonight for some reason.’
She accepted this and remained silent, then, seeing that he seemed
to have withdrawn into himself, rose to her feet.
‘You will excuse me, my lord? I am tired and would retire.’
Stefan’s brooding gaze followed her as she left the table. She knew that he was watching her, but not what he was thinking or what had brought that expression to his eyes.
As she moved towards the stair that would take her to her own apartments, a man got up from his seat and slipped from the hall to follow her.
‘Lady Elona, stay a moment, if you will. I would speak with you.’
She turned her head, frowning slightly as she saw that Will de Grenville had called to her. ‘Oh, Will,’ she said, feeling slightly uneasy. ‘What is it you would say to me?’
‘Only that I leave for France in the morning. Sir Stefan has given me a letter to the Duke and I have hopes that he will take me with him on his crusade. Then I may earn my knighthood.’
‘I see…’ Elona hesitated. ‘I thought you wished to take service here? Would my husband not have you?’ Was Stefan jealous of him even now?
‘He offered me service if I wished for it, but asked what I truly wanted and then advised me to go to the Duke. I am more likely to win glory and wealth in fighting than in the peaceful existence your husband plans here.’
‘And you leave in the morning—do you go alone?’
‘No. I believe there are two youths from the village who have asked permission to go on the crusade and your lord has generously given leave. We shall travel together.’
She could go with them if she wished, Elona thought. One of her women could ride with her, the others follow with her baggage. If she took the chance to escape, surely Stefan would let her go?
‘I wish you Godspeed, Will,’ she said. ‘I hope that you gain all you desire of life.’
‘I can never do that,’ he told her with a sad, sweet smile. ‘You have given your heart elsewhere, Elona, and I shall never love another as I have loved you.’
Elona made him no answer as she turned away for there was nothing she could say. It was true that her heart belonged to another. Running away from Stefan would not change that, merely increase her sorrow.
Alone in her chamber, Elona sat looking out at the moon as it sailed through a clear sky. There would be frosts on the morrow, she thought, for winter was fast approaching. Her heart felt heavy as she combed her long hair and sighed for something that was as far away as the moon itself. She had dismissed her women after they had helped her prepare for the night, but was too restless to sleep.
She knew that she would not ask Stefan to release her again, and yet the years promised little happiness. She loved her husband desperately, but he did not love her. He desired her body, his eyes told her that, but he did not love her. Somehow she must learn to accept the hopelessness of her situation and accept the terms he offered.
Tears trickled down her cheeks. Why could he not love her as she loved him? She wiped away the tears with the back of her hand. Weeping would not help her.
‘Why do you weep, my lady?’
Elona was startled by his soft voice so close to her. She had not heard him enter her chamber, but he had come through the door that led to his own bedchamber. He had not used it before and she had almost forgotten it was there, hidden as it was behind a heavy drape.
‘I was thinking of my father and brother,’ she lied instinctively. He must not know that she wept for him.
‘You miss them both still?’
‘I was happy while Pierre lived,’ she said. ‘After my brother’s death, my father was often silent and withdrawn. Sometimes he forgot I was there, but I believe he loved me in his own way. Pierre’s loss was a heavy blow to him and he never truly recovered from it.’
‘And your mother died soon after you were born?’
‘Yes. My father married again for the sake of his children. The Lady Elizabeth was very good to us. I think we were fortunate to have her.’
She had risen to her feet now, gazing into his face, her breast rising and falling as her breath quickened. The candles had burned low in their sconces and cast shadows over him so that it was difficult to see his face clearly.
‘Your mother died soon after your birth, I believe?’
‘For a long time I believed that I had killed her. But I know now that the birth made her frail of health and she died some months later. My father could not bear to be reminded of it and as soon as I was old enough he sent me away to our kinsman to be educated.’
‘Surely he did not blame you for her death? The child is not to blame for the suffering it causes at its birth.’
‘No matter,’ Stefan said and shrugged. ‘It was a long time ago. I mentioned it merely because it was something we had both experienced. I do not like to see you so unhappy, Elona. Do you truly wish to leave us? Would it make you happy to return to your home for a few months?’
‘Would you let me go?’
‘If you gave me your word that you would return one day. I do not want to keep you a prisoner here, though I should not wish to lose you for ever.’
‘Why?’ Elona moved closer to him, straining to see his face in the flickering light. ‘Surely you cannot wish to keep a woman who trapped you into marriage with her lies? Would it not be better to have the marriage annulled?’
‘I hardly think that possible after the other night,’ Stefan said and there was a faint smile on his lips. ‘I was angry—as much with my father for believing me untrustworthy as with you for lying.’
‘I am sorry I caused Sir Ralph to think ill of you. Shall I write and tell him the truth?’
‘No—then I should be very angry. I do not beg for forgiveness of any man, even my father.’
‘But it was my fault—’
‘No matter. Had he not been so ready to despise me, he would have listened to me instead of demanding that I put right the wrong I had done you.’
‘Yet still I would make amends. I lied and now you are bound to a woman you cannot love…’
‘No, that is not so,’ Stefan said and her heart caught. ‘I think I wanted you from the first moment I saw you, but I did not know my own heart.’
‘Stefan…’ Was he saying this only to please her?
He hushed her with a finger to her lips. ‘Let me finish, impatient one. I knew that I wanted you. I would have spoken much sooner, but my honour held me back. You were destined to be Alain’s bride, and therefore forbidden to me. How could I speak when to do so would have robbed my own brother?’
‘Alain did not want to marry me. Nor was there ever any promise between us,’ Elona cried.
‘I had given my promise to your father and to my stepmother. I do not take these things lightly, Elona.’
‘I know…’ She held her breath, knowing that she must tell him all. ‘I thought that if I did not lie to your father I would lose you. I believed that, after you had delivered me to Banewulf, you would go away and I should never see you again.’
‘It was my intention to speak to Alain, to discover if he would release you. I do not know what I might have done had he refused—for it was not until you were snatched from me, and then when you lied about the child, that I realised how much I wanted you. I could not bear to think that any other man had touched you.’
‘I thought you hated me then. You were so angry.’
‘Angry and jealous,’ Stefan confirmed ruefully. ‘I hated the man who had been your lover. I would have killed him if I could. For a while I wanted to kill you. It was because I was afraid that I might do you some harm that I left you at Banewulf. Believe me, I was tempted many times to come and fetch you. Only pride held me back.’
‘I was so unhappy. I believed you would never send for me and I wanted to die. Alain saw me weeping and it was his idea that I should come here. I was sure you would send me away at once, but he said that you were not so foolish.’
‘It seems he knew me better than I knew myself.’ Stefan’s eyes were dark with some strong emotion. ‘And he was able to see that you were innocent because his judg
ement was clear. I was such a fool to believe ill of you. Can you find it in yourself to forgive me, Elona? I know I hurt you the other night. I have found it hard to forgive myself.’
‘I was hurt that you should think me so low, Stefan—but as for the other…’ She smiled up at him. ‘I wanted you to take me, to make me yours. It was the reason I had them prepare a bath for you in my chamber, why I sent my ladies away. I hoped that it would make you forget your anger.’
‘I forgot everything, including my honour,’ Stefan admitted with a wry twist of his lips. ‘You were right to brand me a savage, Elona—but it was because I wanted you too much to hold back. Your consideration for my comfort, your touch, had aroused me—and then, again, I lost my temper when I learned that your squire was here. I thought that you still loved him and I could not bear it. I shall try to make you happy next time—if you are willing to forgive me and begin anew?’
‘Do you not know that all I want is for you to love me?’ She had no pride left, for her heart and body longed to be as one with him.
‘You must know that I do? Why else should I be driven mad with jealousy at the thought of another man touching you?’
‘Then take me to you,’ Elona said. ‘Let us make this a true marriage, my lord.’
‘My sweet temptress,’ Stefan said as he moved towards her, clasping her against him in a passionate embrace. ‘How I have burned for you, longed for this moment.’
His kiss was soft and tender, but beneath the gentleness was a hunger that he held in check. Elona was aware that he had himself on a tight leash as he led her to their couch. She stood meekly as he undressed her, letting him play the role he had chosen for himself. She had been his handmaiden, but this time he would be hers.
He knelt before her, kissing her navel as she stood naked and proud, her clothes lying in a heap on the floor. His tongue circled the perfect little indentation, moving slowly over the firm flat flesh to her breasts. His mouth closed over the peaked nipples, which were evidence of her arousal, nudging them with his tongue and lips and sucking at them delicately until she gasped with pleasure, her back arching, hair falling past her narrow waist.