The Lord's Forced Bride

by Anne Herries

  Andrew sighed as he sanded and sealed the letter. He had a feeling it sounded stiff and formal, but he could do no better—he did not trust his mother. He would make certain that Catherine was truly his wife before he introduced them. He stood up, rang a bell and summoned a servant, giving him the letter to deliver.

  After the servant had gone, Andrew poured himself a cup of wine. He must get some rest, because they had a long journey in front of them the next day, and he would need to be fresh when they arrived at the new estate the King had granted them. A new owner must always give an impression of strength if he did not wish to be cheated. At least he knew that this estate had not been taken from its rightful owner. It had come to the King by means of a bequest on the late owner’s death. Andrew would not have wished to begin a new feud after growing up with so much bitterness.

  He frowned as he wondered just what the truth of the quarrel between his family and Catherine’s had been. Lord Melford had declined to give him the details, and the King had said it was best forgotten. Well, whatever had caused it, it was over now. He smiled grimly as he divested himself of his heavy robe and went to bed.

  Catherine had slept well after a restless beginning. She rose, determined to put her doubts and fears behind her. Lady Anne had spoken out of anger, because she had hoped for a marriage between her son and Catherine. Whatever the old quarrel had been about, it could not matter now. If Catherine’s mother had wished to forbid the marriage, she would have spoken when the King proposed it. Therefore, Catherine would not let doubts cloud her mind. As for the matter of being wed at the King’s command, well, it was no more than happened to many girls, for most wed at their father’s pleasure. Besides, the King had given Catherine what she truly desired in her heart. She was foolish to wish her wedding had been more romantic!

  Having reached her decision, Catherine greeted her husband with a smile when she went downstairs. She had broken her fast with bread and honey and a glass of cordial in her chamber, her maid waking her with an inquiring look and a smile that annoyed Catherine. However, she controlled the emotion. It was not Tilda’s fault that Catherine was still a virgin.

  ‘Good morning, my love,’ Andrew said as he saw her dressed for the journey. ‘Did you sleep well? You look less tired than you did last evening.’

  ‘I feel much better,’ Catherine told him. ‘I slept tolerably well, thank you, husband.’

  Andrew took her hand, raising it to his lips to drop a kiss in the palm. His eyes seemed to caress her, making Catherine’s heart race with sudden excitement. She was swept back to the first time they had spoken in the village at Melford, when he had flirted with her so outrageously. Her cheeks were flushed with a delicate rose as she saw him smile.

  ‘Come, Catherine,’ he said. ‘I had your maid rouse you early because I would make good time today. I wish to be at Malchester Beck before dark for it is as new to me as it is to you, and I want to see just what is in store for us there.’

  ‘Malchester Beck? Your new estate?’ Catherine said. ‘It is an odd name.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Andrew replied. ‘I must make myself known there as the new lord, but once I have spoken with the steward we may leave and continue to our home at Lancaster Park.’

  ‘You must not neglect your business, Andrew,’ Catherine told him. ‘It is true that I long to see our home, for I think that I shall love it—but if your new estate needs your attention, you must do what you think right.’

  ‘You are as wise as you are lovely,’ Andrew said, and once again his smile seemed to caress her. ‘I am even more fortunate in my bride than I realised.’

  ‘You are my husband and your concerns are mine,’ Catherine told him. ‘My mother taught me all that a chatelaine should know about the care of a large estate. I am well prepared to run your house, Andrew. If this new estate has been without a mistress for some years, it may be as well to stay there for a few weeks to set it to rights before we go home, otherwise the servants may take advantage of what they see as neglect and then they will cheat you.’

  ‘What you say is true,’ he agreed, looking thoughtful. ‘I had thought only a brief visit, for I wanted to show you my home, where I believe we shall be happy—but if you are prepared for some discomfort, it may be as well to make sure that everything is in order at Malchester before we leave.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I believe you should,’ Catherine said, nodding in agreement. ‘Show them you are a fair master, Andrew. Fair but firm, and then they will honour you, as they ought.’

  ‘I see that your mother has taught you well,’ Andrew said. ‘Let me help you to mount, Catherine. I was reluctant to stay even one night at Malchester, but you have shown me my duty.’ He smiled at her, placing his hands about her waist as he lifted her effortlessly to her palfrey’s back. ‘If all goes well, we should be there an hour before dusk.’

  It was unfortunate that Catherine’s horse should lose a shoe before they had gone more than fifteen leagues. She dismounted at once, because she was fond of the horse and did not wish to do it an injury.

  Andrew looked at the hoof himself, and declared that the horse must be led to a blacksmith slowly.

  ‘I shall take you up with me, Catherine,’ he told her. ‘Dickon, take your mistress’s horse and have it shod. Matthew can stay with you, for I would not have you travel alone after dark. Come on to Malchester at your own speed, for you must give this poor creature time to rest.’

  Andrew turned to his wife. ‘You shall ride before me on my horse, Catherine. We have but twenty leagues to go to Malchester, although it will mean that we must stop to rest my horse now and then—unless you can ride one of the other horses?’

  Catherine looked at the horses the men-at-arms were riding and shook her head. ‘Most would be too strong for me, my lord. I must ride pillion, either with you or with one of the servants.’

  ‘You shall ride with me,’ Andrew said. He swept her up on to his horse and mounted behind her, his arms surrounding her. She felt the warmth and strength of him as she leaned back against his chest. ‘It will delay us no more than an hour or so…’

  Catherine felt a sweet heady sensation as they began to ride once more. Wrapped in her husband’s embrace, she thought that she would not care if they were delayed for hours on end, because the delicious feelings suffusing her body made her want to remain in his arms for ever.

  She glanced back at him, her face alight with excitement and the pleasure she experienced at riding with him this way. Her hair streamed in the breeze, her eyes glowing. She laughed as she saw a hot glow in his eyes and his arms tightened about her suddenly.

  ‘Catherine?’ he murmured. ‘Cat—what devilment is in you now?’

  ‘I think I should like to ride like this for ever,’ she said softly. ‘It is a wonderful feeling—do you not think so, my lord?’

  ‘The scent of you drives me wild,’ he murmured against her ear. ‘You are a sweet torment to have so near, sweet kitten.’

  Catherine threw him another glance, her smile teasing and more confident now. This was the man she had fallen in love with restored to her, and the awkwardness of the past few days had slipped away, leaving her pulsing with excitement. Andrew of Gifford was now her husband! Surely he would come to her bed that night and claim her? She knew that she would welcome him with open arms, for her doubts were fading into the mist that had begun to fall, twisting insidiously through the trees like scrawny fingers.

  Because of the mist that had fallen so suddenly, and the enforced stop they had made to rest Andrew’s horse, it was after dark when they arrived at Malchester at last.

  Andrew had sent two of his servants on to warn the Malchester household of their coming, and Catherine was relieved to see lights blazing in many of the windows. It was impossible to see much of the house itself other than a dark sprawling shape. However, it was obvious that it was formed in the way of an old manor house, with towers at four corners, a moat that had grassed over and a drawbridge that was never raised, its chains ol
d and rusted from neglect. There was other evidence of neglect in the courtyard, for piles of rubbish were gathered in corners and holes had appeared in the ground.

  As they went inside, Catherine’s nose warned her of other more serious neglect. She could detect an air of mustiness that made her pull a face of disgust, and beneath it was another smell even less pleasant that spoke of latrines needing urgent attention. She had been right to suspect neglect on the part of the servants! Andrew would need to spend more than one night here unless his estate was to fall into disuse and become a liability!

  An elderly man came hurrying towards them as they entered the main hall. He was dressed in black, his hair lank and greying as it fell to his shoulders, and he looked anxious—as well he might if the state of this room were anything to go by.

  ‘Forgive me, my lord,’ he said. ‘Had I had word of your coming, I would have prepared chambers for your use. I have been given no instructions since the late master died, and no money to pay wages. Only a handful of servants stayed loyal, and it has been two years…’

  ‘Yes, his Majesty told me that he had neglected to order the estate as he ought,’ Andrew said and frowned. Like Catherine, he had smelled the tell-tale stink of neglect and his eyes noted the signs of mould on walls, wood and hangings. It would take weeks of work to make this place habitable! ‘Well, I am the master here now, and in the morning you will send to the village for men and women to work here. I want this house cleaned from top to bottom, and I shall pay for their service.’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’ The old man smiled. ‘I am called Silas Mullins, sir. I stayed on when others left—I believed that someone would claim the estate one day. It used to be a fine house, my lord—and the land is sweet when it is properly worked.’

  ‘I dare say the land is in even worse state,’ Andrew said grimly. ‘Tell me, is there a chamber fit to house my lady and myself this night?’

  ‘I have kept the old master’s chamber in good heart, though most others have not been tended. My master lived alone for many years. He hardly entertained in the last five years of his life, for it broke his heart when his wife and babe died of a fever. The neglect began even then, my lord. He was the last of his line, you see, and he saw no point in keeping it as it once was.’

  ‘Then have a fire lit there,’ Andrew said. ‘And bring us some wine and food—anything you have in the house will do.’

  ‘There is the remains of a ham and some cheese, and fresh baked bread, my lord. My daughter Sarah bakes for me twice a week, and the ham comes from your own pigs—but little provision has been made for the winter this year. My wife died last spring, and it was she who provisioned the house for the old master.’

  ‘I am sorry for your loss,’ Andrew told him. ‘I dare say you have had a difficult time of it, but things must change. Send someone to light the fire in the best chamber and bring us what food and wine you have.’

  ‘The wine cellar is well stocked, my lord. I can at least offer you some fine Rhenish, a soft white Burgundy and good cider.’

  ‘Bring what you think fitting for my lady and me,’ Andrew said and waved him away. He turned to look at Catherine as the old man left them. ‘I did not know what I brought you to, my love. I ought to have taken you home and come here alone at another time.’

  ‘No, indeed you did not,’ Catherine told him. ‘What this house needs most is a woman’s touch, Andrew. I know what needs to be done here, and it is my place to order your house. You have other more important concerns. Once I have servants to do my bidding, I shall see that the work is done.’

  ‘If you can turn this place into a home, you will perform a miracle,’ Andrew said ruefully. ‘I shall see that the latrines are attended first thing in the morning. That at least will make the air less evil.’

  ‘It may not be so bad upstairs,’ Catherine said. ‘It was worst in the yard. I think the midden cannot have been cleaned for years.’

  Andrew moved towards her, gazing down at her lovely face. She had taken off her cloak, her silken gown clinging to the slender lines of her body in such a way that he was seized by a desire to carry her to their bed and make love to her. Only the knowledge that she must be hungry, tired and disappointed with her surroundings held him back.

  ‘I assure you that our home is vastly different, Catherine,’ he told her softly. ‘I ask you to have patience and forgive me for this nightmare I have brought you to, my love.’

  ‘You worry too much,’ Catherine said and laughed at his woeful face. ‘Once sufficient fires are lit the smell of damp will go, and we shall have the furniture polished until you can see your reflection in it. The scent of lavender and beeswax will banish the smell of neglect. I promise you, Andrew, within two days you will not know this place.’

  Andrew knew that it would take much longer to restore the neglect to the fabric of the house, and at this moment he was not sure it was worth the effort. It might be better to have builders tear down the ancient walls and build a new house in its place. However, much depended on the land. If he could see some profit in restoring the estate, he would do it. Otherwise, he would sell or perhaps let it to a tenant—though it would need to be in better heart than this or no one would wish to live here.

  However, he kept his concerns to himself. Catherine had taken this disappointment with good grace. Most ladies he knew would have created hell had they been brought to such a place two days after their wedding. He could not even imagine what his mother would say had she come here. She would have caught the smell of those middens and refused to stay! And she would have written to the King, berating him for giving such a gift, and indeed Andrew could have wished that he had not been saddled with the estate. Henry had wanted to be rid of the burden, and believed he was bestowing a favour, but he could not have known the true state of affairs here.

  Andrew saw that Catherine was moving about the chamber, investigating the contents of chests and a large buffet that stood at one end of the large room. She had taken a magnificent silver-gilt salt from the buffet and was carrying it to the table so that she could look at it in the light of the candles burning there.

  ‘This is beautiful,’ she said. ‘Father has something similar, but I think this is finer, Andrew. It has not been cleaned for years and will take a lot of polishing, but it will be lovely when it is clean. I think this house may be full of treasures.’

  He caught a hint of excitement in her voice and moved towards her, his gaze intent on her face. ‘I believe you are enjoying this?’ he said, a note of incredulity in his voice.

  ‘Yes, I think I am,’ Catherine said and laughed. ‘I am looking forward to showing you what I can do here, Andrew. I want you to be proud of your wife.’ She looked up into his eyes, a hint of shyness about her now.

  Andrew was about to take her in his arms and tell her that he was already proud of his lovely wife when the door opened and Silas Mullins returned. He was followed by a girl of perhaps Catherine’s own age and two lads, one a year or so older, the other no more than ten at most. Each of them were carrying platters with food that smelled fresh and delicious.

  ‘This is my daughter, Sarah, my sons, Simon and Peter—and they have been my only helpers since their mother died. There is also Jed Grebble, who works in the yard, my lord.’

  ‘You have managed with these lads and your daughter?’ Andrew was incredulous. ‘The wonder is that you have managed at all, Mullins. I hope the land has not been so neglected?’

  ‘I think it may be in better case, sir. The old master allowed a tenant to have charge of his lands as well as the farm, where he lives, and he has done his best—though I dare say all is not as you would wish it, my lord.’

  ‘Well, that will keep for the morning,’ Andrew said. ‘Remember that I expect more servants here by the morrow.’

  ‘I sent Jed to Farmer Jenson with a message,’ Mullins said. ‘He will report to you in the morning, my lord—and he will send word to the villagers that they are needed at the house again.’

>   Andrew nodded, his expression becoming grim. Things were worse than he had imagined, for with only his sons and daughter, Mullins could hardly have been expected to keep a house like this clean, let alone repaired. He would doubtless find the neglect had spread to the roof and walls when he came to inspect it in the morning.

  ‘Very well, you may go,’ he said when the food had been placed on the table. ‘You will need to feed the servants who came with me. I hope you have sufficient in the house?’

  ‘We have food in the larder, sir,’ Sarah Mullins answered for her father. ‘I have done my best to replenish it when I could—but it will not last long if we are to feed all of you.’

  ‘Sarah,’ her father admonished her. ‘His lordship does not need to be troubled with such things.’

  ‘We shall buy food from the local farms and the market,’ Andrew promised. ‘Once we have sufficient servants, provisions can be made for the winter.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ Sarah said and bobbed a curtsy. ‘I am willing to work hard, but I had no money to buy provisions.’

  ‘Well, that shall be put right,’ Andrew said. ‘Leave us now.’

  ‘I shall speak to you in the morning,’ Catherine said. ‘We shall plan together what needs to be done here, Sarah.’

  ‘Yes, my lady.’ Sarah curtsied, giving her a shy smile. ‘When you are ready, I shall show you your chamber, mistress.’

  Once the servants had gone, Catherine served food to the pewter platters provided for their use and they sat down to eat. The bread, butter, cheese and ham were wholesome, and the relish served with it was piquant, showing that Sarah had indeed done her best with what she had at her disposal. The wine was fruity and washed down the food with a welcome coolness.

  ‘I think I shall send for Sarah,’ Catherine said when they had eaten. ‘Tilda may need help to unpack my clothes, for she has no help and will not be certain where to put them.’

  ‘We are fortunate that we brought our personal servants with us,’ Andrew said. ‘At least they may show the villagers how to go on until they have learned their duties. Had I guessed how it was here, I would have sent a party of servants on ahead to make things habitable for you, Catherine.’