by Amber Dane
Her new husband’s face came back to her. He might have been considered handsome at some point in his wretched life if he not had that uneven and hideous gouge on his face. What was she thinking? Caroline released a heavy sigh. Her mind was still numb from the jarring events of the past few days.
That ill-healed scar ran the length of his chiseled face and the dark whiskers which covered his strong jaw did little to hide it. His hawk like nose looked like it had been broken more than once. But it was his penetrating blue eyes that had seemed to burn right down into her soul that held her attention when he had stood like a wooden and broken man beside her in the quick ceremony.
After the king had departed, they had ridden hard and fast here. He had spoken not a single word. Not even the simplest inquiry to her about their well-being. She knew he had felt her eyes on him for though he spoke not a word, his eyes watched them closely.
Aye, this Norman was indeed cold. Had she no need to survive for Kelbie, she wished she lay as dead as her first husband.
Kelbie’s relaxed breathing told her he’d fallen asleep and she laid his small body sideways on the high bed, drawing the fur coverlet over him and removed his dust covered and scuffed shoes. Quickly she wet a soft cloth in the water filled washbowl and carefully wiped the smudges of soot free of his face, hair and small hands. He moved not at all and once done, she stepped away from the bed.
Only then did she allow her emotions to become unhinged and her tears to fall. His little body looked so vulnerable and small. How was she to protect him?
She had little choice. She had been forced to marry this lord in front of their new king, by royal decree. Darc Renald may not want her or she him, but neither had had a choice. Had he’d given her the chance he would have learned she had not wished to marry him anymore than he had wished to marry her.
Now she had to play yet again a dutiful wife to a man not of her choosing. Caroline sucked in a painful breath to ease her churning stomach.
Briefly Mildred’s hushed whispers came back to her of how his first wife had met her death over five years ago. Rumors had spread that he, the beast, had devoured her. But that was just plain silliness, Caroline knew. He was just a man. Suspicion surrounded the woman’s death, aye, but as to what really was truth, she knew not and she never had been one to believe in rumors.
The few inhabitants of Castle Renald still seemed to be in mourning including him. This made her wonder if there were some feelings in him after all. Then she thought of the harsh and bitter look he’d given them in the hall. Caroline shivered. They both came into this marriage with their own secrets. She pushed aside the thoughts as they whirled in her head, there were more pressing matters at hand that she had to deal with.
Eager to be out of the filthy clothes she’d been suffocating in for the past few days, she undressed in front of the low fire burning in the hearth. Extra logs lay in a basket on the other side of it. She tossed one in and looked back to the bed when sparks and spit hissed loudly, crackling in the room. Kelbie did not wake. The poor thing was exhausted, as was she. She noticed some of her hair had been singed and would need to be cut. She had stood too close to one of the fires when she’d gone back inside to salvage what little she could, which had not been much. The heat from the flames had pushed her back.
Fresh tears stung her eyes as she used her fingers to comb through the rest of the tangled mess and they fell as chunks of her hair came out. By the time she was finished, a small pile lay on the floor at her feet and Caroline dried her tears. Nothing she could do about it now. Silently she gathered up the pile and cast the hairs into the fire.
Stretching and massaging her neck, she walked over to the washbowl and picked up another clean cloth. She could not wait for the bath.
Her ablutions complete she crawled on top of the bed next to Kelbie and pulled the coverlet over them both. She yawned, pushing away the fear of what the morrow would bring and soon fell into a deep exhausted sleep.
Darc stood over the bed watching the fair-haired woman and child. His blue eyes sparkled in the dim light and stood out against the black of his cloak. With her face now clean, his new wife actually looked pretty, although she fretted in her sleep. The little boy had moved only once in the time he had stood over them, watching.
His gaze fell upon the uneaten platter of food and the wooden tub filled with water.
The two had slept right through the buckets being carried in by the servants. Reflexively, his fingers worried the deep old scar along the side of his face as he stepped away from the bed to the hearth. He bent and carefully set another log in the hearth. The fire lapped at it hungry and quietly. It would burn through the night and keep them warm.
Drawing his long cloak about his tall frame, he cast another look at the two in the bed. Something in him longed, yearned for what he had lost so long ago. Then his face twisted with ire and a little resentment.
He would not allow himself to care so deeply again. He could not bear it. Never would he be able to go through such heartache and despair. Not again. He would not survive it.
Darc’s inner turmoil caused a ragged sigh to escape his parted lips. She would not mean to lie, not mean to cheat, not mean to take the boy from him, but it was their nature. Women. Saxon or Norman. And he would not be taken down that foolhardy path again.
Besides, he had read the loathing in her eyes from the bloodshed he had spilt at her home. War was never meant to be pretty. The ache in his chest grew, constricting his breathing as though in objection of his thoughts.
After some time, he left the room on those dark thoughts and closed the chamber door quietly behind him.
He was full of rage over what would take place on the morrow. They were to take their vows again. William wanted them to be married by a Norman priest and it had been arranged for them to marry in the small chapel attached to the south end of his castle.
Taking his black warhorse Gray out of its stall, Darc climbed onto the animal’s back. He would leave his hounds in this night. He wanted no distraction from their barking in their excitement at seeing him. He rode out towards the dense forest that lay on the east side of his keep.
CHAPTER FIVE
Caroline woke to find Kelbie’s feet digging into her stomach, she straightened him and he moaned in protest in his sleep, and then was quiet. Adjusting her eyes, she frowned, daylight streamed through the two narrow Norman windows in the room and she groaned. Her tired eyes still burned.
She’d slept next to none at all on their travel here. How could she? So much had happened.
Lord Halvard had died the way he’d lived, brutal. The image of his severed head came back to her and she winced. As brutal as it was, she had not cried over the loss, for her life with him had been far from kind.
His brutality to her during their five years of marriage had barely been tolerable. She could still feel the lingering vengeance and hatred alive in her veins. Her attempts to murder him in his sleep had only caused his cruelty to increase tenfold and brought the feel of his weighty fists against her cheek all too often. In a sense, he had met a just end, she thought, then quickly made the sign of the cross over her chest for such dark thoughts.
The Normans had come, murdered, conquered and destroyed everything. She barely had scare time to breathe before she had been forced to take one as a husband. She would never understand the way of men. Saxon or Norman. Seemed they all thought alike. Power, wealth and gain.
She just wanted to be left alone.
Lord Halvard had been sickly and he’d nigh twenty summers on her, but this Norman warlord was around her age of twenty-seven summers or more and he looked to be a strong, virile man and that thought terrified her. His large hands would shatter her bones were he to hit her or were he to ever strike Kelbie.
Sighing she rose from the bed and started to freshen up. She would do everything in her power that she could to avoid putting them through a nightmare like that again.
Soon a knock came to the door and
Caroline opened it to two dour-faced older maids. Both women came in chattering and mumbling betwixt themselves.
‘My Lady,’ one addressed her clearly. ‘Do you wish to be bled ere the ceremony?’
Aghast, Caroline stepped back from them, shaking her head. ‘N-Nay. That will not be necessary.’
She was pale enough and needed no leeches on her skin. Face paint had never been something she’d delighted or took pleasure in, despite Lord Halvard’s persistence. On that she had won because he’d too many other things to occupy his time instead of being bothered with petty women matters.
Helen on the other hand could not go without it. What Caroline had seen her cousin go through, the trouble and length of time it took, and looking as though she suffered, but for the good, Helen had insisted. Caroline wouldn’t wish the ritual upon her worst enemy.
The maids seemed almost relieved at her response and went on moving about the room. Their fussing about woke Kelbie and he stuck his thumb in his mouth, climbed down off the bed to cling to her leg.
Caroline wanted to unpack her own bags, not that there was much of anything in them, but the dark looks the maids sent her had her think otherwise. Their snobbish attitude caused anger to rise in her.
She straightened her back and ordered them to leave her things alone. Their eyes widened and they shared a shocked look before mumbling something about order and getting her ready. The priest had arrived and they would take the boy with them so she could dress. That set Kelbie to wailing.
Once Caroline got him to calm, she kicked the two maids out.
Another buxom maid replaced them and she was even meaner and tried to browbeat her into letting them take Kelbie out of the room. Caroline could not believe the boldness of his servants. Soon, this one too followed the same route as the prior two.
By then, she was good and well heated. The next knock nearly shook the wooden door from its hinges and she jerked it open ready to give a good go, but she froze.
Darc stood there himself, a dark scowl of irritation upon his face and towering over her.
‘Must you begin this day already with trouble? We are to wed in the next half hour officially as ordered by our King. There will be no more delays. I have other important matters to attend. Give me the boy.’
The coldness of his order only incensed her further. His blue eyes in the bright light that filled the room looked to be flecked with green specks, tore into her. One of his large hands outstretched and the scar on the side of his face pink and the skin taut with his lips thinned in anger.
‘Nay. He stays with me. I shall be ready in time.’ Caroline angrily shot back at him.
He made a sound with his tongue and stalked past her. Kelbie screamed at the top of his lungs when he saw the large man coming for him.
Darc stopped dead in his tracks. Kelbie’s little legs brought him to her skirts and he tried to hide in them, his tiny voice shaking as he cried. ‘Don’t let the monster take me, Mama. Don’t let the monster take me!’
Caroline flushed with embarrassment despite her anger as her eyes shot to the dark lord. She thought she glimpsed pain in his blue depths, but she must have been mistaken for nothing but hatred and disgust burned her skin now.
‘My lord, he didn’t mean-‘
His arm slicing through the air between them cut her off and caused her to cower and hunch herself over her son in a protective manner for the expectant blow.
Her frightened gasp ripped a hole in Darc's gut. She thought he moved to strike her? He lowered his hand back to his side with a sharp jerk, stunned. He’d only been about to reach for the boy. He stepped a safe distance away and met her wary gaze.
His tone came out angry and harsh. ‘He is too young to be crying at your skirts. He will grow up to be weak.’
‘He is just a boy! He does not know any better. He’s only five.’
Her angry sob filled outburst only sickened him more. ‘Fine. Keep him with you. But I warn you, be ready in the half hour or we will take vows in this room.’
Darc did not wait for a response. He needed to get away from them. From her. Away from the hot fragile look in those honey-colored eyes that did something to him he did not want to look at further.
She had believed him capable of striking her! The very notion made him ill. Never had he laid a hand on a woman. Not even when a lesser man would have done so with his first wife, Adelay. The darkness of his past stirred at the edges of his mind and he pushed it back down. Something in him tightened and he stalked down the hall.
Caroline was ready in the half hour and carried Kelbie down the stone steps when the maids came for her. Her steps felt leaden from the weight of what was to come.
Lord Halvard and their wedding night had been horrific, an unforgettable nightmare. What would it be like with this man? She tried to will herself numb with each step she took to those gallows as she was led to the small chapel neatly built on the far side of the castle.
Her fear and weariness before had cost most of those years to be spent in that dreadful tower. That solitary had nearly driven her mad and not only had it left an impact on her but upon Kelbie. She would not, could not live out another nightmare as she had done with Halvard. She refused to.
With their vows exchanged again, they were rushed back to the inside of the keep. It was all a blur to Caroline.
She did not know which of them had shaken more, her or Kelbie. She had held him throughout the entire brisk ceremony and vaguely remembered signing the marriage contract. Darc had been none too pleased, yet he’d said nothing nor did he kiss her when the moment came. He’d done naught but grunt and insulted her further by walking on ahead of them out of the chapel.
Tears had stung her eyes then. And surprised by why his action hurt, Caroline tried to push the feeling aside and tried to focus on her anger. Her vow to be numb was not working.
She pushed the platter away and tried to coax Kelbie to eat more from his own trencher, but the little boy seemed not to want to do aught other than sulk with his thumb in his mouth and sit in her lap.
Although he had not uttered a single word to either of them after the vows were spoken, her husband watched them like a hawk.
She was glad he had not pressed her for conversation for she did not think she could muster up a single word. The lump of despair in her throat was too large to swallow.
Around them, she noticed that there were actually more than a handful of servants about.
The servants, a few of his soldiers and the maids who had come to her room earlier occupied the dimly lit Great Hall. All three of them huddled in a corner watching her and Kelbie with their sharp eyes. Only a few trestle tables had been set up and sat empty.
This paled in comparison to the lavish feast Lord Halvard had thrown, which had lasted for seven days as was the usual Saxon custom, but Caroline knew it would not be that way this time. He was a Norman and besides she did not wish it.
Nothing in the past week had been the usual or norm. The sooner this eve was behind her, the better.
Her eyes fell on her husband as he swallowed down another goblet of wine. He’d all but polished off the ewer in front of him. She found herself fascinated with the corded muscles working in his strong neck. From where she sat she had an unobstructed view of him and she took full advantage, taking her fill. Why the Norman mesmerized her and riled her temper so she did not know but each time she looked away her eyes were drawn right back to him.
Darc swallowed the contents of his goblet in one full gulp. The bitter wine was taking too long to numb him. He could feel her large doe eyes burning into the side of his face. He shook with his anger over the last week’s events. When the week had started out, he’d no idea it would end with him taking a wife.
Another wife.
This one was not as tall or as buxom as his first wife had been who had been of Norman blood. Nay, this one lacked in several areas.
She was short, small of stature and frail looking. Her lips and eyes the largest
parts of her face, yet, striking features nonetheless in a unique way that had drawn his gaze to her face more times than he cared to count. Her torso was long, and dipped in the back to a shapely bottom that he had found his eyes drawn there too, again, more times than he cared to count. She had bitten her bottom lip so much, unconsciously during the vow taking that she’d drawn droplets of blood.
He had also found himself struggling not to reach out to the little boy that she had yet to let go of since they had come into his home.
She was a protective mother, like a mother bear to her cub. She held onto the boy as tightly as he clung to her. It spoke volumes to Darc, yet he refused to look deeper into it. It was enough the boy feared him.
He would have a fight on his hands this night when the boy was taken from her. And he would be.
For he’d every intent to see that this union was consummated this night before William’s arrival on the morrow with Halvard’s cousin in tow. He set the goblet back down on the table.
He wanted nothing more than to get it all over with so he could quickly return to searching for and tracking down his demons. Right the wrongs done by his own blood, then and only then could he make his escape and return to Normandy
Could he perform on demand? He turned back to her and their eyes met briefly before she dropped her gaze. Darc swore under his breath.
Aye, he could. She was just a woman.
If that were so then why did his heart beat so rapidly? Disgusted with his thoughts, Darc shoved away from the table and strode from the hall.
CHAPTER SIX
He’d known his wife had plenty of fight and strength in her. She fought tooth and nail when he tried to take the boy from her. He’d thought it be easier being that he’d waited until the boy had fallen asleep.
‘Do you wish to wake him and make this harder, demoiselle? For it will be and trust me, this marriage will be consummated tonight.’
He stood so close to her he could smell her clean scent. She heaved in shallow breaths, fight burning in her eyes. They stood just inside the chamber door. She looked like a wild animal with the boy clasped to her chest like an anchor.