Frowning, Eva nodded and climbed the narrow spiral staircase set in one corner of the keep which led to the solar. There she found Lady Isabella and two more of the young ladies who, with Eva, acted as her maids of honour and learned the duties of a chatelaine from her, in a similar manner to that whereby the pages and men at arms were trained in their duties.
'Where have you been, child?' Lady Isabella demanded imperiously. She was in her fifties, plump from many years of childbearing and indolence, but her face still smooth and unlined although her hair was completely white under the stiff linen barbette she wore.
'I beg pardon, Ma'am,' Eva said quickly.
'Sir Edmund left some time ago, why did you not return here at once?'
'I wished to think over what he told me. It was somewhat of a shock,' Eva explained, smiling in what she trusted was an open manner.
'I do not see why the news of a marriage should be a shock,' Lady Isabella said tartly. 'At your age you ought to have been expecting it these two years, and the news should come as a relief.'
'Of course, my lady, you are right, but I had not considered it. I have been so contented here and not anxious to change my state.'
Lady Isabella looked at her keenly. 'And now?' she asked sharply.
Eva smiled uncertainly, conscious that if she were to avoid rousing suspicions she must play her part with care.
'I do not know the man my father suggested.'
'It is an excellent match and you are a fortunate girl. Sir Piers could have chosen from the highest in the land. I would have been pleased to give him one of my own daughters. I cannot imagine why he has preferred to honour you.'
Eva's faint hope that Lady Isabella did not know the name of her father's choice for her husband vanished. She should have known better. The Lady Isabella would have prised the information out of a much more secretive man than Sir Edmund de Beauville, and since he was actually proud of the match he had arranged there would have been no reason not to boast of his success.
'Perhaps he thinks to obtain a complaisant wife by choosing a girl whose father is unknown at Court,' another of the girls, a plump blonde, said with a simper. Eva glared at her, but Lady Isabella intervened.
'That will do, Marguerite. It is no disgrace to Eva that her father does not spend his time plotting with the disaffected barons or intriguing at Court. He has provided Eva with a goodly dowry, even if it is less than Sir Piers could have obtained.'
After this reproof they settled down to their embroidery. Lady Isabella called Eva to sit on a stool at her feet and sort out the silks she was using while lecturing the girl in a firm but kindly manner on her duties as mistress of her husband's household.
Eva murmured an occasional word of agreement, nodded regularly, and heard not a word. Her mind was too busy with plans for escaping from marriage to this hated Sir Piers to pay heed to strictures on duties she had no intention of performing for the detestable man.
After a while Lady Isabella's attention was distracted when Joan, the other girl, broke into a fit of painful coughing. Since she was particularly skilled with herbs she stirred herself to bear Joan away for the administration of a special concoction of elderberries, hyssop, ginger and cloves.
*
'I wonder if Sir Piers will take you to Court?' Marguerite asked as soon as the curtain fell behind Lady Isabella.
Eva looked up blankly, then lifted her chin haughtily. Marguerite was for ever boasting about her own Court connections and of the time when she would herself be going there. Her marriage, to an elderly widower, was arranged for the beginning of May when the prospective husband considered the roads would be fit to transport his bride to his house near Windsor.
'Why should he not?' she demanded.
Marguerite laughed.
'You are so unsophisticated, Eva. Why should a man in Sir Piers' position choose an unknown girl as wife? He must wish for someone who will provide him with an heir and ask no difficult questions, someone he can leave at home to take charge there while he amuses himself as he pleases.'
'He'll do no such thing with me!' Eva declared indignantly, forgetting momentarily that she had no intention of marrying the abominable Sir Piers in any case.
'How will you prevent him?' Marguerite asked silkily. 'There would be nothing you could do, for you have no powerful family to speak for you. Poor Eva, if it is as I say, and I can think of no other reason for such an odd proposal, I pity you with all my heart.'
Eva pursed her lips and returned to her embroidery, refusing to be drawn into further malicious speculation and thankful when Joan, her throat eased, returned to the solar.
'Where is Lady Isabella?' Marguerite demanded.
'With a visitor. Lord Henry sent for her to join them,' Joan replied.
Marguerite brightened. She frequently complained of boredom, although Holdfast Castle had many visitors and the household was large. While she plied Joan with questions she could not answer, for she had neither seen the visitor nor heard his name, Eva's thoughts flew back to the man who had surprised her in Gilbert's arms in the stables.
She turned away from the others to hide her blush of shame at the recollection, seeing again the man's handsome, arrogant smile of scorn as he had surveyed them. He had been tall, half a head taller than Gilbert, who was well above the average height. She had a vivid impression of a lean, handsome face, black hair, dark eyes wide set and a narrow high-bridged nose. Was this Lord Henry's visitor? She had never seen him before. She hoped fervently that he was not planning to stay at the castle, for she had no wish to meet his contemptuous smile again. Once had been quite disturbing enough.
It was with relief Eva greeted John, a young page who came into the room just then.
'A message from Lady Isabella,' he announced cheerfully. 'She'll be occupied and so you are free until suppertime. I wish I could spend my time sitting about doing nothing,' he added with a grin, dodging as Eva grinned back and threw a cushion at him.
She tidied away the silks and escaped. Joan said she wanted to fetch a warmer surcoat from the dormitory they shared and Marguerite offered to go with her. Unwilling to face the hostile questioning of the latter Eva lingered until they had departed and then went down into the great hall. Her thoughts were still on her encounter with the stranger, and without thinking her footsteps took her out into the courtyard and across towards the stables. Fleet whinnied in greeting and again searched for a non-existent apple. Eva patted her remorsefully.
'Poor Fleet, I'll go and see if I can find one for you,' she whispered, and turned away.
Most of the horses were out and there were no grooms in the stables. Eva found the apple bin in the small room at the end where the harness was stored, and picked out a couple of small wrinkled apples. She turned to go back to Fleet's stall and almost bumped into the dark stranger who was standing just outside the doorway.
He looked at her with raised eyebrows, and his lips curled with derision.
'Your paramour has ridden out with Lord Henry,' he said scathingly. 'Were you hoping to find him here again? I do apologise for disturbing you earlier,' he added ironically.
'You are impertinent, sir!' Eva retorted. 'My actions have no reason to concern anyone but myself! I would be grateful if you would go!'
He was looking at her in some surprise. It was rather gloomy inside the stables but she could see his face clearly in a shaft of light coming through the open outer door.
'You're no kitchen wench,' he remarked slowly. 'I had not expected to find the ladies of Holdfast behaving in so indecorous a manner as to creep into corners with their lovers. Lady Isabella's rule must be less strict than I had supposed to permit such light behaviour.'
'He is not my lover!' Eva said furiously.
'No? Your betrothed, perhaps?' he suggested coolly.
Eva was just about to confirm this when she realised no one must know the true situation between herself and Gilbert. She bit her lip angrily and remained silent, staring up at the hateful man wh
o was regarding her so scornfully.
'It is none of your concern! Pray let me pass!'
He did not move, but there was a strange gleam in his eyes.
'I asked you to move,' Eva said, retaining her temper in check with the greatest possible effort.
'Indeed? But I have no wish to do so. You intrigue me, a well-born wanton. Do you offer your kisses to anyone who asks?' he demanded in a contemptuous tone, and before she guessed his intention he stepped right up to her. He pulled her to him, clasping her roughly in his arms, crushing her to him and driving the breath out of her body so that when his hard demanding lips met hers she had no strength to fight against him.
*
Chapter 2
Eva's legs were suddenly as weak as a baby's. She would have fallen had the stranger not been clasping her so tightly against his hard body, while his exploring lips tantalised hers into a wild, crazy desire to respond. For a while surprise held her motionless, terrified of these unfamiliar cravings, then she began to twist in his arms, attempting vainly to wrench her mouth away from his.
Feeling her resistance the man entwined one hand in her braided hair and forced her to be still and endure his embrace. When she thought she could bear it no longer but must swoon in the effort to control her own need to surrender he lifted his head and stared down into her eyes. Imprisoned still in his hold she stared helplessly up at him, the fear of these new sensations mingled with rage and hatred plain in her big blue eyes.
'Let me go, you fiend!' she gasped, but he laughed harshly.
'When I've done with you, wench. You're quite a tasty morsel, well worth a little trouble. I suppose the fellow I disturbed you with earlier knows that, hey?'
Eva fumed helplessly. 'That is none of your concern,' she flung at him and stamped her foot with impotent rage at being unable to excuse her behaviour by announcing she and Gilbert were betrothed. 'I'm no wanton,' she added but it sounded feeble and he gave a snort of disbelieving laughter.
'Only wantons creep away secretly to meet their lovers,' he declared. 'I'll vouch Lady Isabella does not approve of such behaviour. What is your position here? Your speech and dress are those of a lady despite your deplorable conduct.'
He had relaxed his tight hold and Eva suddenly pushed him and wriggled free.
'I'll vouch Lady Isabella will disapprove of the manner in which her guest misuses me!' she flung at him defiantly, all the while knowing she would not dare to complain. When he laughed again she was strongly tempted to pound with her fists on that arrogant face and force him to apologise, until she suddenly realised she was powerless to do any such thing, indeed she was risking even greater impertinence by staying here to bandy words with him instead of fleeing to the greater safety of the castle.
Without waiting for any response to her sally she turned to the door and rather to her surprise he made no attempt to stop her. She escaped with as much dignity as she could muster and was mortified to know, without glancing back at him, that he stood in the stable doorway and watched her cross the courtyard.
The servants were busy in the great hall setting out the trestles for supper, and Eva found Joan huddled close to the fire at one side, her cough apparently worse again.
'Where is Lady Isabella?' Eva asked.
Joan shook her head. 'I think she and Lord Henry went up to the solar awhile back.'
'With the guest? Who is he, do you know?'
'I haven't heard his name, no one seems to know him.'
'Just one man?' Eva asked.
'I believe so, and just one servant.'
It must be the man in the stable, Eva thought and felt her face go hot with embarrassment as she recalled that devastating kiss. If he were a guest he would stay for supper and sleep at Holdfast, for it was far too late in the short winter day for any traveller to set out again. She would be unable to meet him with any degree of composure.
Briefly she considered pleading some illness, but she knew Lady Isabella would insist on tending her, and that lady's eyes were far too sharp to be deceived. The best she could hope for was to remain in the background and trust she would be able to avoid the wretched man.
*
For a while this strategy proved successful. The stranger, garbed in a richly decorated grey and silver surcoat, his undertunic, sleeves and hose all of black, was seated at Lord Henry's right hand and being treated by him with every show of honoured civility. Eva sat as far away from him as she could and studiously avoided looking in his direction, apparently absorbed in the bowl of broth set before her. All too soon she found she could not hide away for ever. Lord Henry was in an expansive mood and called jovially to the servants to clear away the trestles and prepare the hall for dancing.
'While we wait let us be entertained. A song, I think. Now who shall have the honour of being first?'
Lady Isabella leaned across to speak to him and he raised his eyebrows, shrugged and then nodded.
'Raoul, sing a ballad,' he commanded. 'Simon, fetch your lute, you shall be next.'
Raoul, a young page with a high clear voice, responded willingly. Afterwards Simon, one of the men-at-arms, who combined a dark fierce visage with an astonishingly subtle and sensitive touch on the lute, played a variety of tunes. He broke into a lively jig as the last of the trestle tables were carried to the side of the hall. Eva breathed a sigh of relief. Normally she would have been asked to entertain the company, for she had a sweet clear voice and knew Lord Henry enjoyed listening to her. Tonight she had crept into a corner and prayed he would forget her. It seemed as though her prayers would be answered, for the space had been cleared for dancing and some of the maids and soldiers were already swaying and twisting at the far end of the hall in time to Simon's lute.
Then the page John appeared at her side.
'There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you,' she heard with a sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach. 'Lord Henry says it's your turn now to entertain the guest.'
Eva shut her eyes momentarily, but almost mechanically she rose to her feet and moved towards the stool where Simon sat. He smiled up at her, slightly puzzled at the paleness of her face, for she did not normally object to singing.
She took a deep breath and then glanced up to where Lord Henry and the hateful man still sat on the dais. Lady Isabella was smiling encouragingly at her, and rather waveringly Eva broke into a simple ballad about a knight who had angered his lady and, in seeking to make amends, set off to the wars to prove his love by valiant deeds.
She risked another glance at the dais as she finished, and stood waiting for dismissal or the command to sing again. Lady Isabella was speaking to the stranger, then he bent towards Lord Henry and spoke quickly. Lord Henry nodded, and turned to Eva to wave a hand in dismissal.
'Simon, a jig,' he said loudly and turned back towards his guest.
Eva crept away into the shadows, hoping to remain hidden until she could escape from the hall. She had forgotten completely her plan to meet Gilbert and talk with him, longing only to get away from any possible contact with the stranger who had treated her so disrespectfully.
*
'What on earth was the matter with you?' Marguerite demanded. 'If you wanted to impress the visitor that was no way to go about it.'
Eva shrugged. Marguerite had always envied her the ability to sing, and the gleeful note of satisfaction in her voice would in other circumstances have irritated Eva intensely. Tonight, though, she was unconcerned, having more urgent problems to consider.
'Yes, you didn't sound at all like your normal self,' Joan put in. 'Are you feeling ill?'
'Shivery,' Eva confessed, although they would not know the cause. She hoped they would think she was sickening for the same chill as Joan, and that might give her an excuse to slip quietly away. She turned to Joan. 'Would you like to retire? I'll come with you, I should feel better in bed.'
Joan shook her head. 'I want to stay. I'm feeling better now I've eaten. Don't you want to dance?'
Eva swiftly
shook her head. She wanted only to remain out of the sight of that abominable man.
But the ladies about her were in demand and she had to join in the dancing. To have refused and remained in isolation would have been more noticeable and commented on with disfavour by Lady Isabella.
In the intervals between the dances some of the young men were bemoaning the fact that the truce negotiated with the Welsh the previous summer would prevent them from practising their warlike arts.
'Peace with France, Scotland, Wales. No crusade planned which we are likely to join. We won't be sent to help the Pope in Sicily even though Henry accepted it on behalf of his younger son,' one of them said in disgust.
'There's only the prospect of a fight with Simon de Montfort and his friends, or tournaments!' another said gloomily.
'Tournaments can be just as dangerous,' another remarked, and began to give a humorous description of one of his unsuccessful efforts to unseat a rival in a recent tournament. Eva was laughing at his wry comments when she felt a hand touch her shoulder.
'My lady, may I request your company?'
She turned slowly. It could not be! But it was, the hated man had approached and was standing beside her, waiting for her answer. She wanted to refuse, to run away, anything rather than move out with him into the centre of the floor, his hands touching her again. Those hands which seemed to burn through the stuff of her gown and scorch her very skin.
'Come,' he said impatiently, taking her hand in his and drawing her away from the rest of the group. 'Have you no words?' he asked quietly. 'I am told your performance was not your usual high standard, so I will not be false and compliment you on it.'
'Why did you seek me out? Was it to gloat over me?' Eva asked angrily, looking up at him for the first time. He was staring down at her with a slight frown creasing his forehead, and his eyes were hard. Eva shivered, but with an immense effort did not permit her gaze to fall away from his regard.
'To dance,' he replied and suddenly swung her about, his arm round her waist, so that she stumbled against him and felt the hard muscled body close to her own.
The Baron's Bride Page 2