The Baron's Bride

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The Baron's Bride Page 13

by Marina Oliver


  'It's too obvious, we must be circumspect,' she said petulantly.

  'What is the matter with you?' he demanded. 'You have made no effort to meet me alone these last few days, indeed you have been far more cautious than if you feared your husband discovering us.'

  'I fear others gossiping,' she replied angrily, unable to tell him she no longer loved him, indeed wondering in some astonishment how she had ever imagined she did. Now he seemed to her an immature, boastful, self-seeking and boring companion.

  Sir Piers was wearing no favour, and Eva wondered whether Blanche, with her obvious new interest in Lord John, had refused to give him hers. Then she caught sight of Gilbert nearby, looking straight at her with an intent gaze. She saw with a mixture of amusement and curiosity that he had obtained a sleeve from somewhere. It was blue, the same as her dress, and might be taken for her own unless one looked carefully at the slightly different shades.

  Then Eva looked more closely, for she realised it was a rather unusual but familiar shade. It reminded her of the gown she had given to the maid Magda when she had left Holdfast on the first occasion. But that was impossible, Gilbert would never ask a servant for her favour.

  Telling herself he had found some other girl who was probably only too willing to think he admired her, and who happened to have a gown of that shade, she dismissed the matter and concentrated on the contest now taking place.

  *

  The heralds had made their announcements, the trumpets had summoned the contestants, and the ground shook as a hundred heavily armoured mounted men swept ponderously towards each other.

  Sir Piers was well in the lead and broke through the front ranks of the opposing side with great ease, but then found himself beset on all sides with no support from his friends.

  'Is he crazed?' Lord John exclaimed, and Blanche uttered a cry of fear.

  Eva sat biting her knuckles, and then cried out in alarm.

  'He is down!'

  'No, my dear, it is one of the others, he caught him with a backward swing,' Lord John said swiftly.

  'They are fighting through to join him,' Blanche said hoarsely. 'Oh, how I hate these affairs!'

  'Please, don't let him be hurt,' Eva prayed aloud, and shut her eyes as two men, acting as though in unison, swung their maces from opposite directions towards Sir Piers.

  'It's all right, they missed,' Lord John said, and Eva found he had placed his arm about her. She clung gratefully to him and looked once more at the scene before her.

  The other knights were fighting, but the attention of all the spectators was concentrated on the battle taking place about Sir Piers. So far he was holding his own, keeping the many attackers at bay. He had penetrated so far into the ranks of the enemy none of his friends could cut their way through to him.

  It could not last. One of the knights swung a particularly strong hit and Eva screamed as Sir Piers swayed in the saddle and slowly fell to the ground.

  'I doubt if he'll be hurt, they are well padded,' Lord John said in an attempt at comfort, but Eva was not listening, she was struggling to fight through the press of people towards the lists.

  'Gently, carry him this way.'

  Lord Henry was there, taking charge, and he swiftly organised four men to carry Sir Piers on a makeshift stretcher up to the small room near to the solar which Eva had herself once occupied. Eva, with Blanche and Lord John beside her, followed.

  The men swiftly removed the complicated armour and it was seen Sir Piers was bleeding heavily from a wound in his thigh.

  'That's odd,' commented Lord Henry, and sent one of the men to summon Lady Isabella. Eva meanwhile had cast herself down beside her senseless husband and was clasping his hand, weeping unrestrainedly.

  'You can take yourself off if you cannot control your unseemly noise,' Lady Isabella said caustically as she swept into the room, and Eva was so accustomed to obeying that tone she gulped, swallowed, and stood up.

  'I want to stay and help. What can I do?' she asked unsteadily and Lady Isabella nodded briskly.

  'You know where I keep my medicines. Here is the key, fetch me salves and plenty of linen at once. Then you can fetch me a dose of the valerian and lavender tisane from the jar on the top shelf. You, Lord John, organise bowls of hot water. Will you assist me here?' she added to Blanche, who had already removed the wide outer sleeves of her gown and rolled up the tight undersleeves in readiness.

  There was no time for jealousy, although Eva felt a deep pang of resentment Blanche and not she should remain with Sir Piers. Then she chided herself, realising as a former inhabitant of the castle only she could find the medicines Lady Isabella needed.

  She picked up her skirts and ran, and was back in a very short time to find that the others had stripped the clothes from Sir Piers and wrapped him in blankets. Lady Isabella was trying to stem the flow of blood with a linen towel while she examined the wound.

  'He's got a bruise on his head, but that will soon go and he'll come to himself,' Lady Isabella said briskly to Eva as she bathed the deep wound. 'This is likely to prove more dangerous, it's deep. The mail was broken and a couple of links driven right in, but I've got them out. I can't think how it happened. He must have fallen right on top of someone's sword, no glancing blow could have gone so deep.'

  She soon had the gash bathed and smoothed on the ointment, then bound up the wound tightly. Sir Piers began to moan as she finished, and opened his eyes to stare blankly up at the faces about his bed.

  *

  'Well, Sir Piers, how are you feeling?'

  He frowned.

  'Lady Isabella? What happened?'

  'You behaved like a fool,' she said curtly. 'Trying to demonstrate your prowess to Eva, no doubt, but she'll not thank you for giving her such a fright. Now drink this, it will help you sleep and make the pain less. There, I'll come back to see how you do shortly. We'll leave you in peace. Eva will remain here with you.'

  She swept out, shooing the others before her as if they were a flock of geese, and Sir Piers turned his head to look at Eva.

  'Tell me what happened,' he said quietly. 'All I can recall is being surrounded.'

  She complied in a wavering voice, and he smiled faintly as she finished.

  'I apologise for having made such a nuisance of myself,' he said with a rueful grin which made her heart turn somersaults, so intense was her love for him, but before she could reply the effect of Lady Isabella's posset took over and his eyes closed. Soon he was breathing deeply and Eva sat beside him, watching that now beloved face and praying that his hurts were not too serious.

  Chapter 11

  'If he wakes or seems at all wandering in his wits, you promise to call me?' Lady Isabella commanded rather than asked, and Eva nodded.

  'Indeed yes, my lady, but he is sleeping peacefully and has had another dose of the valerian posset.'

  'Very well, child. Who better to look after a man than his own wife,' she added with an unusually tender smile, and left Eva to her vigil.

  Determined not to fall asleep Eva spurned the pallet bed which had been brought in for her and sat on a small stool, leaning against the bed and resting her hands on the covers so that even should she doze the slightest movement from Sir Piers would rouse her.

  The second candle was almost spent and Eva could see the faintest streaks of light through the narrow slit window when Sir Piers began to move restlessly. Eva took his hand in hers but he pulled it fretfully away. His eyes were open and she smiled uncertainly. He ignored her and whispered something in a low voice. She bent forward to hear better, and caught a few disjointed words which made her draw back in hurt astonishment.

  'Blanche – you I love – when – said it would never – wench, you are false, your lovers laugh at me!' he concluded in sudden anguished vigour as he stared at Eva and tried to sit up in bed. Eva sprang forward to restrain him.

  'No, my love, you will hurt the wound,' she said, and with a groan he lay back and turned away from her.

  He was qu
iet once more and his breathing became even, but an hour later, when the candle had finally guttered, he awoke, this time his confused words were little more than odd sounds. Eva flew to fetch Lady Isabella.

  'He is certainly feverish,' Lady Isabella said calmly and sent Eva rushing to collect balms and more bandages. The wound was an ugly red, the flesh puffy around it, and Lady Isabella shook her head dubiously. 'I will bathe it again, then send for Father Gregory. He is more skilled than I in wounds of such a nature, having been on Crusade.'

  'Will he recover?' Eva asked in great fear.

  'I doubt if a man of your husband's vigour will fall victim to a small wound, but the humours are unpredictable. I will send some food for you.'

  *

  Soon afterwards the priest arrived and smiled comfortingly at Eva.

  'We'll restore your husband to you, my dear,' he said comfortingly, and began to inspect Sir Piers' wound closely. After a moment he stood up, a puzzled look on his face. 'This is a deliberate stab wound, I am certain. It goes too deep to be the sort of accidental cut a man receives when he falls onto a dagger. Besides, from the head bruise it is clear he fell on his back and this blow was delivered from the front, or above him as he lay. Unless some considerable force was behind it the cut would be more ragged and the mail would not have broken. I suppose someone was too carried away by the reality of the fighting and sought to dispatch an enemy.' He sighed. 'Well, we must pray.'

  He bandaged the wound again and then turned to look at Eva, concern in his eyes.

  'You must sleep. Indeed you must,' he added as she began to protest. 'If you do not who will care for your husband? He will recover the swifter if he knows someone he loves is beside him during the dark hours. Besides, I want you to do something else.'

  'Very well, whatever is best for him,' Eva submitted.

  'Sleep all day, there are many people able to watch here. He will be more restless tonight, I suspect, as the fever rises, and you will perhaps comfort him with your presence. At dawn tomorrow you must go and gather leaves of agrimony and winter savory, steep them for a minute only in boiling water, and then use them as a poultice. Gather enough to last through the day, changing the poultice two or three times. Lady Isabella will see to that. They are the main ingredients in the salve I have applied, and I will leave enough of it for Lady Isabella to use now.'

  Most of the guests had left Holdfast by now, and Eva was given a small room nearby where she fell into bed, exhausted with her watching. She awoke when Blanche came in at suppertime carrying a tankard of ale and a dish of rice and mutton, flavoured with herbs.

  'Piers, how is he?' Eva demanded.

  'A little better and the fever is less. How are you? Eat this and then you will feel ready to sit with him.'

  'I thought you intended to leave today?' Eva said as she began to eat the food, and as she recalled the words of love her husband had used when he had spoken of Blanche the previous night she tried to hide her distress.

  'Sir Piers is such an old friend I could not go until I knew he was recovering. Besides, Lord John suggested he escorted me to my home,' she added with heightened colour. 'He is going to take the boys as pages when they are ready, you see, and he wished to meet them. He has business with some of Lord Henry's neighbours first, and must remain here a while longer.'

  So Blanche would be sharing in the nursing of Sir Piers, Eva thought with a heavy heart. His words showed he still loved her. Had she any hope of winning that love for herself?

  Sir Piers was still feverish, but Lady Isabella told Eva he had woken for a brief time and had recalled the tournament.

  'He is sleeping now, and likely to sleep all night. Will you fetch me before you go out to collect Father Gregory's herbs?'

  *

  She left Eva to another lonely vigil, but Sir Piers, although tossing restlessly, did not wake. At dawn Eva donned a cloak and went into the herb garden to gather the leaves for the poultice.

  She was stooping down behind a low hedge when she heard voices. She glanced through the bushes to see Gilbert and another man, Sir Matthew de Chaumont, pacing slowly towards her. He had come for the tournament, and she had seen him occasionally with Piers, although she had not spoken with him. Unwilling to face her cousin she moved so that she was better concealed, and hoped he would soon go away.

  'When will you leave?' Sir Matthew was asking urgently.

  'As soon as I can. I have unfinished business here, as you know,' Gilbert replied irritably.

  His companion snorted.

  'You bungling fool! With such an opportunity why did you have to deal only a superficial wound? He will be recovered in a few days, for him and his master to plague us again. Without Richard's help the King would long ago have given in to de Montfort.'

  'The mail was too well-fashioned, and he wore plate as well. I could not reach a vital part,' Gilbert answered, and Eva listened in growing horror. These words could only mean that Gilbert had deliberately dealt Piers the wound which had puzzled Father Gregory, that stab wound made with a sword. And it was a political feud, it seemed, from the references to Richard of Cornwall and Simon de Montfort, the rebel baron. But Sir Matthew was speaking again.

  'Simon is in France by now, waiting for us to join him. He needs the money you'll get when you marry the wench. Don't permit them to grant an annulment, we need the fellow dead, and his money too when you marry the sorrowing but rich widow. You did well to persuade her to agree to the marriage, you must not fail now.'

  They turned and strolled back towards the gate and to Eva's relief she saw them disappear through it. She went on gathering the leaves, but her thoughts were busy with the startling conversation she had just heard. To whom could she turn? She was reluctant to expose Gilbert's treachery to Piers out of a lingering feeling of family loyalty, even if he had been well enough to take action. But he was in great danger while he lay helpless.

  She rose hurriedly at this thought, decided she could gather more leaves later if necessary, and it was more important to repeat what she had heard to Lord Henry as soon as possible. Restraining her impatience she went to the kitchens and demanded boiling water, then glanced round the vast room which lay beneath the great hall while she waited for the leaves to steep.

  She saw Magda emerge from one of the storerooms, dressed in her old blue gown, and with a basket over her arm.

  The cook, a fat greasy fellow with a totally bald head, called to her to hurry.

  'I must fetch the things my lady ordered,' Magda replied with a toss of her head, and walked with swaying hips past the table where Eva was dealing with the herbs.

  Eva noticed the wide sleeve was caught on a broken strut of the basket, and then her eyes were drawn to a mark on the sleeve itself. At the edge there was a stain, and Eva felt herself grow first cold and then hot with anger.

  The stain was blood, dried but fairly recent. If Magda had given Gilbert her sleeve and this was the very one he had carried in the last contest, when it would have been fastened to his right arm, the stain was evidence he had stabbed Sir Piers. She thrust aside her speculations about the reason for Magda's favour being given to Gilbert, and since the leaves were now ready hurried upstairs with them.

  'Good, I will apply them and you must sleep,' Lady Isabella said briskly.

  'I must see Lord Henry,' Eva told her. 'It is vital, please where may I find him?'

  'In his business room I think,' Lady Isabella replied, looking at Eva in concern. 'What is it, child? You look dreadfully pale. Are you ill yourself?'

  'May I tell you later, my lady? It is urgent.'

  She smiled briefly and left without waiting for a reply. Lady Isabella stared after her in surprise. Eva had always been punctilious in matters of courtesy, it must be a powerful emotion which made her forget.

  *

  To Eva's relief Lord Henry was in his room and alone when she knocked on the door.

  'Come in, is it news about your husband? Not bad news, I trust?' he added as he saw her expressi
on.

  'Lord Henry, I believe my cousin Gilbert Fitzjohn is plotting to kill Piers, and I think I have proof he stabbed him during the contest,' she said without any attempt to introduce such startling intelligence gradually.

  To her relief Lord Henry did not waste time exclaiming it was impossible. He told her to sit down and bade her explain, interrupting occasionally to ask a question when he wished to clarify some point. Eva told him everything without reserve, how she had loved Gilbert, had tried to evade her marriage, and that Sir Piers had agreed to an annulment. All she concealed was the fact she now knew she loved her husband and not Gilbert.

  'I once met Magda when I went out late at night to see how badly hurt Fleet was, after I fell in the river,' she explained haltingly. 'She said she had stepped out to see if the rain had stopped, but she could equally well have been coming from meeting Gilbert. He was in the stables.'

  'That is something we can discover at once, whether it was her sleeve he wore,' Lord Henry said briskly, and went to the door to bawl for a servant.

  While they waited for Magda to appear Lord Henry went over the details again, and reassured Eva a close guard would be kept on Sir Piers.

  'I will of course arrest Fitzjohn and the other knight, but until we know how many of them were in the plot we must take every precaution.'

  He grew more and more impatient until eventually Magda appeared. She was wearing a gown of dull brown homespun, and glanced nervously from Lord Henry to Eva.

  At first she utterly denied having given her favour to Gilbert, and declared that she possessed no blue gown. When Lord Henry sent for her possessions to be brought to him and confronted her with the gown with its bloodstained sleeve, she insisted it was a gown she had borrowed from another maid, and refused to admit Eva had given it to her, breaking into noisy lamentations that she was always being blamed for things she had not done because all the other girls were jealous of her.

 

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