by Anne Herries
‘Thank you, you are kind, sir,’ Anne said. ‘But I am not sure that I wish to dance.’
Comte De Vere frowned. ‘You must know that I have a great admiration for you, Mistress Anne. I had hoped that you felt something for me?’
‘I am grateful for all that you did for me when I was ill,’ Anne told him. ‘I hope we may remain friends, sir, but…’ She faltered, for she hardly knew how to answer him without offence.
‘I suppose you imagine de Montfort still means to wed you. I should have thought your pride would forbid it, Anne. The man is nothing but an adventurer—a mercenary.’
‘Whatever he is, I love him,’ Anne said with a hint of defiance. ‘Even if he dies, I shall always remember and love Stefan de Montfort.’ She almost wished the words unsaid as she saw the flash of anger in his eyes. ‘He plucked me from the sea and I should surely have died had he not found me, sir. I know you saved me, too, but…’
‘I understand,’ De Vere said with a stiff nod of his head. ‘Well, you have made your choice, Anne. Please excuse me.’
Anne watched as he walked away. She felt a chill down her spine, because she knew he was angry. Her mother had warned her to be careful, but how could she have answered him otherwise? She had tried to answer him in a way that did not cause offence, but knew that he was offended. However, there was nothing she could do now to make things better. She had answered honestly, and she hoped he would appreciate her honesty when he had had time to think about it. Another woman might have chosen to flatter, even to wed for the wealth and consequence he could give her. Anne was not a dissembler, though when she caught him looking at her with cold eyes later that evening, she thought it might have been better had she answered in another way.
Watching Anne as she talked and laughed with her friends, Comte De Vere felt the anger fester inside him. Had she rejected him for someone worthy of her, he might not have resented her refusal to accept him as a suitor, but to be ignored in favour of de Montfort was an insult! If he did not end with his head on a block, something would be arranged. Cowper was a fool, and if what the man Marc had told him was true, a drunken sot. However, De Vere was a different man, and if de Montfort left the Tower alive, he would personally do what he could to see him dead!
He brooded over it for the rest of the evening, a malicious anger festering inside him. When he saw that Anne had joined her brother and his betrothed for a country dance where everyone joined hands, his anger intensified. She was a proud wanton and he was well rid of her! She would not be his wife, so be it!
However, he still wanted her and the desire to have her—and to humiliate her—was strong. It was impossible to get near her for the moment, because she was surrounded by friends and family, but one of these times he would find her alone and then.
A smile touched his mouth as he thought of what he would like to do with the haughty Mistress Mel-ford! He would teach her to mind her manners when she addressed her betters. By the time he had finished with her, no one would want her!
For the moment he had other business. He had come to England to discover what he could of certain matters relating to the King and Prince Harry’s marriage negotiations, and would report what he suspected to his Spanish masters. The young prince was handsome, but arrogant. However, he should be encouraged to wed his late brother’s wife.
As Comte De Vere left the main hall and walked towards the small courtyard where he had arranged to meet his spy, he was unaware that he was being followed.
Anne enjoyed her evening despite feeling uncomfortable every time the Comte De Vere’s eyes were upon her. However, towards the end of the evening he disappeared. After he had gone, Anne felt at liberty to join in the dancing as she pleased. She had tried to refuse earlier, but Harry had insisted that she join him and Claire for the merry dance that everyone could take part in, whether they had a partner or not. Anne had found it impossible to refuse, for Harry had excellent news and his happiness was there for all to see. King Henry had given him permission to leave the court for four weeks so that he could marry and spend some time with his bride. That meant they would be leaving London on the day following Lord de Montfort’s trial.
Anne wondered if Stefan would be free to accompany them to Melford. Would he wish to if he could? She was not certain, but her heart refused to accept that she meant nothing more to him than a life he had saved. She remembered their walks in the chateau gardens, and the way he had kissed her. When she thought of those kisses her whole body melted with longing and the desire to lie with him was strong. Surely he had felt something too! She could not believe that he was indifferent to her.
What would she do if the King’s judgement went the wrong way and she was forced to live without him for the rest of her life? She tried not to think about it.
Anne spent a restless night tossing and turning in her bed, and when she did sleep her dreams were fretful and of Stefan.
She seemed to be running in a mist. Stefan was walking just ahead of her in the trees. The woods were dark and eerie and she was frightened, but for Stefan, not herself. She could see him and she called to him over and over again, but either he did not hear her cries or he would not listen. He just kept on walking, going further and further away from her.
She woke crying his name, to find her mother bending over her, the light of a candle falling on her face.
‘You were crying out in your sleep, Anne,’ Melissa said, looking at her in concern. ‘Were you worrying about tomorrow?’
‘Yes, for I do not know what I shall do if the King does not set Stefan free,’ Anne said. ‘I love him so, Mother. I know he loves me, even if his pride will not let him admit it.’
‘I do not know whether to love or hate him,’ her mother said with a wry smile. ‘If you love Stefan, I must welcome him to our family, but he has caused you so much pain, my dearest.’
‘Is pain not a part of loving?’
‘Yes, it is,’ Melissa admitted. ‘Your father and I suffered much for our love, and it has been the same for you, Anne. Perhaps because you are so like Rob. You have his pride, but also his spirit. I know that once you truly love, it will be for ever.’
‘Yes, it will,’ Anne told her and frowned. ‘Comte De Vere made his intentions plain last night. I was obliged to tell him that I did not think of him in that way, and I fear it made him angry.’
‘I am sorry for that,’ Melissa told her. ‘He is an arrogant man. I felt it at the start, even though it was because of him that we found you again. I know that we have much to thank him for as a family, but I should not have liked to think of you becoming his wife.’
‘It will not happen,’ Anne said. ‘He looked at me coldly several times and it made me uncomfortable. I was pleased when he left.’
‘I saw him just before we left,’ Melissa said. ‘He may have been absent for a while, but he did not leave the palace until after we did.’
‘Oh…then he will have seen me dancing with others after I refused him.’ Anne grimaced. ‘I believed he had gone. He must think me ill mannered and be pleased that I refused to wed him.’
‘We must hope that he feels that way,’ her mother said. She smiled and pressed Anne’s hand as it lay on the coverlet. ‘It is good news that Harry has permission to come home for the wedding, it is not? He might have married here, of course, but I should like the wedding to be at home after all. Claire is so happy. She is a lovely girl and will make your brother a good wife.’
‘Yes, she will,’ Anne agreed. ‘I love her as a sister and I am glad you will have her at home some of the time, Mother.’
‘If you leave us to live in France, we shall miss you,’ Melissa said. ‘However, if it is for your happiness I shall not complain—and it will be a comfort to me to have Harry’s wife, for I believe she may spend at least some of her time with us.’
‘She will not wish to remain in London when Harry is on business for the King,’ Anne said. ‘If Stefan asks me to marry him and we go to France…I am sure that we can
visit each other occasionally.’
‘Yes, perhaps,’ her mother said. ‘Do you think you can rest now, dearest? Or shall I make you a tisane to help you sleep?’
‘I think I shall rest easier for our talk,’ Anne said. ‘Father told me that things might turn out better than I hoped and I must pray that he is right.’
‘You have three influential men willing to stand for Lord de Montfort in the court. If he is innocent of the charges, as you believe, then I am sure justice must prevail. I have found Henry fair, if a stern man and sometimes harsh.’
‘Yes, I pray that justice will prevail,’ Anne said and leaned forward to kiss her mother goodnight. ‘I love you and my family, but Stefan means everything to me.’
‘I understand,’ Melissa said. ‘Goodnight, dearest. Try not to worry too much.’
Anne nodded, lying back against her pillows with a sigh. There was no sense in worrying, for there was nothing she could do. She would not be present at the trial and would have to wait as best she could for her father to tell her the outcome when he returned.
Chapter Nine
Stefan woke as the first light began to filter in through the small grating that let air into his cell, but little daylight. He had put the finishing touches to the letters and papers he had prepared before he slept. He had written a letter to Anne, telling her that he loved her, and a will leaving much of what he owned to her. Chateau de Montifiori was to go to Hassan with the provision that he, Ali, Eric and Sulina had a home for life, as well as others he had taken into his service. He had also written down all the facts that he knew about his brother’s murder and his father’s humiliation at the hands of Lord Cowper.
If he was permitted, he would lay the evidence before the King. Hassan had the letter from Lord William de Montfort, and the papers that showed someone had tried to copy William de Montfort’s signature. He knew that without a witness it was not proof, but surely he had enough to make the King doubt those false charges? If Cowper had been involved in the murder of Stefan’s younger brother and had schemed to rob Lord William of his estate, it showed cause why he would conspire with Sir Hugh Grantham to have Stefan killed. And there were the other attempts made on his life. Of course, there were no independent witnesses of these things, and therefore no proof. If he were permitted, he would speak and the King would make his own conclusions.
Hassan had visited Stefan the previous day, begging him to allow him to testify that it was he who had killed Sir Hugh to prevent the man murdering Stefan. Stefan had refused, making him promise that he would not intervene in this way.
‘I shall be judged by my peers,’ he told Hassan. ‘Let them believe my word or condemn me to a murderer’s death. Even if they believed that you killed Sir Hugh, they might still blame me—and you would certainly hang, my friend.’
‘Rather I than you,’ Hassan said, a nerve flicking in his cheek. ‘I owe my life to you, my lord.’
‘And you will thank me by obeying me,’ Stefan said, a look of steel in his eyes. ‘If you try to speak, I shall deny you. I will stand or fall by the truth—or as much of it as I am prepared to tell.’
Hassan had gone away, looking grave. Stefan knew he thought the worst, and at times he felt close to despair, for his last attempt to gain a fair hearing had met with refusal. If the King believed Cowper’s charges, he might be summarily dismissed. His expression hardened as the gaoler came to tell him it was time to leave.
He had donned an extra shirt—the wind was chill out and he would not wish to shiver and appear afraid if he were taken straight to the block. Stefan wished to live, but if he must die he would do so with honour and as bravely as he could.
One last thought of Anne almost unmanned him, but he put her from his thoughts. She was young and beautiful, and she would find another lover. Perhaps she already had, because she must hate him after the way he had dismissed her love.
‘Lord Melford.’ The page approached Rob as he stood waiting with the Earl of Gifford and Sir Harry in the outer chamber. ‘There is someone who wishes for an audience with you.’
‘I am busy for the moment.’ Rob dismissed him impatiently with a wave of the hand. ‘We shall be called to testify at any moment.’
‘This…person says that his evidence has bearing on the case and that you should listen to him.’
Rob’s eyes narrowed. ‘Person—what manner of man is he that you describe him so?’
‘There are three of them,’ the page answered. ‘One of them is dark skinned…like a Saracen, and one is an Arab doctor.’
‘Indeed?’ Rob frowned and turned to Andrew. ‘Sir, I may be delayed for a few minutes. If the King should summon you, please go in without me. Say that I shall not be long delayed and beg his pardon.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Andrew said. ‘Be careful, sir. This may be a trap.’
‘I think I may know one of them and perhaps the doctor as well… He could be the one who treated Anne when she was ill. However, I have no idea why they have come or why they left it so late to present their evidence.’
‘Go quickly, then,’ Andrew said. ‘We shall do our best to stall things and we must hope that you have not been waylaid for the wrong reasons.’
The pageboy led Rob from the room, indicating a small chamber where the men had been asked to wait. ‘They are in there, sir. Do you wish me to wait? Or fetch an officer of the court?’
‘No, I am in no danger,’ Rob told him. ‘Go about your duties, lad, for you may be needed.’
He hesitated, and then went into the small chamber where three men were gathered. He realised that he did indeed know two of them, though the third was a stranger.
‘What may I do for you, sirs?’ he asked. ‘Speak swiftly, for I may be called at any time.’
Anne walked restlessly in the courtyard. The church bells had just tolled ten times and her stomach clenched with nerves. It must be almost time! They would be gathering in the King’s council chamber for Stefan’s trial at any moment now. Her mouth felt dry and she was racked with agony as she wondered what was going on.
She wished that she might have been there to hear the evidence, but it was a meeting that only nobles could attend. The King was supreme judge, and would decide whether Stefan was guilty of the crimes he stood accused of after hearing the evidence, though his peers might be called upon for their opinion of his innocence or guilt.
Would they find him guilty? Why would he not let Hassan tell them the truth? Why must he be so proud and so stubborn? If the King would not listen, Stefan could be executed this very day! Her thoughts were unbearable and the tears stung her eyes.
Anne shivered in the chill wind. The summer had fled and it was autumn now. She did not look forward to the winter ahead if the news were bad, for she did not know how she would face it.
‘Anne, come in, my love,’ Melissa called to her from the house. ‘Catherine is here and we are about to have some refreshment. You do no good out there by yourself.’
Anne turned obediently and walked to the house. She was cold and would like some warm, mulled wine to sustain her while she waited. Her family were gathering, folding her into their embrace, and she knew that whatever happened, their love would always be there for her. She lifted her head, knowing that she must be brave, even though her heart cried out to Stefan.
‘Come back to me, my love. Come back to me.’
‘Stefan, Lord de Montfort, how do you plead to the charges against you? You are charged that you did wilfully murder the lady Madeline and Sir Hugh Grantham, and that your act was intentional and malicious.’
‘No, sir, I did not kill either the lady or Sir Hugh,’ Stefan replied. ‘I am innocent of the charge and I would like to bring charges against Lord Cowper. He conspired with Sir Hugh to murder my brother and he robbed my father of his estate—’
‘Silence! You are here to answer the charges against you and this other business hath naught to do with the murders of the lady Madeline and her uncle Sir Hugh Grantham.’
‘I beg to differ,’ Stefan said. ‘These false charges have been brought against me because Lord Cowper fears to be exposed as a murderer and a cheat. I challenged him to meet me in single combat so that we could prove by ancient law on whose side right lies—’
‘You will be silent, sir!’ The officer of the court was growing red-faced and indignant.
‘I have the right to be heard, and my defence is that the charges are malicious and need no answer.’
King Henry held up his hand, as the officer would have begun again. ‘The charges you bring against Lord Cowper may be heard at another time if it so pleases us, Lord de Montfort. You must answer to your peers for the charges today, and I am minded to be lenient, as I have heard good things of you—but you must answer the charge.’
‘My answer is that I am innocent. The lady was killed by her uncle and that is all I am prepared to say on the matter.’
‘That is insolence,’ the court officer exclaimed angrily. ‘You must tell the court all you know of the affair or be presumed guilty.’
‘No, that is not the law.’ The Earl of Gifford stepped forward. ‘I have looked into this matter. Lord de Montfort left England under a cloud some years ago, but he was not guilty of the crime of which he was then accused. I have in my possession a letter from his late father exonerating him of all blame in the murder of his brother, and I have signed testaments to the good nature and honesty of Lord de Montfort.’
‘We are not here to try Lord de Montfort on an old murder.’
‘I am aware of that,’ Andrew said. ‘But there was a miscarriage of justice then and we must not allow it to happen again. This man was robbed of all that should have been his by an enemy. It may be that the same enemy is trying to destroy him again by bringing more false charges.’
The King held up his hand. ‘Because I love you, Andrew, I shall allow your testimony to stand. We shall accept that Lord de Montfort is innocent of the earlier crime and that he is thought to be of good character, but we need him to tell us what happened that day.’ Henry’s piercing gaze travelled round the assembled courtiers. ‘Is Lord Cowper in court? He may step forward and tell us of his proof. If he has witnesses, they must testify to what they saw.’