by Shea,Lisa
Constance took in a long drink of the mead, the welcoming warmth of it pouring down her throat. “They did not beat me, or torture me,” she mused. “They did not make any demands for answers – or for anything at all. They fed me little, and I was locked away in a cell. That solitude and uncertainty was my only torment.”
Ralph sat wearily by her side, looking down at her face. “Men have been driven mad by such situations,” he cautioned with concern.
Constance shook her head. “It did not make me lose my mind,” she promised in a low voice. “It strengthened my resolve. I will never allow myself – or another – to be caught in that position again.” She looked up to meet his gaze. “I had long hours available to me and nothing to fill the time with. I did exercises with my arms, with my legs, throwing, dodging. Anything I could do, I did do. With your help, I wish to do more.”
Ralph’s gaze was firm. “Whatever you need, my Lady, I am here to help.”
Constance glanced around her. “Still, why are you here?” she asked in confusion. “Tell me what is going on.”
Ralph settled back into his chair. “It is complicated,” he sighed.
“That is what Charles said,” snapped Constance tersely.
Ralph nodded. “For once, he was telling the truth,” he agreed. “Let me try to explain.”
He drew in a long, deep breath. “When you were kidnapped from the tavern, the first Barnard heard of it was the following day, when a message arrived at the main keep. In it, a demand was made for two hundred pounds for your safe return. An uproar ensued. Barnard had long discussions with his top soldiers, judging the chance of you being held or slain. If you were simply held, then he would retain rights to Beadnell. If you were slain, then because you leave no issue, your brother would move in and take over.”
Constance winced slightly at the thought of the cold, calculated debate about her life and death.
Ralph glanced toward the door. “Charles got wind of the problem within hours, and came quickly. He promised Barnard that if you died due to any lack of action on his part, he would petition the King to regain control of not only the province but additional lands in penalty, as Barnard’s inaction would be tantamount to murder. The argument went on for three days.”
Constance’s stomach twisted. Her long days of isolation had been caused by a group of men arguing over coins.
“In the end, Barnard was unwilling to spend the money, and was willing to take his chances on the bandits not killing you. He figured that they would keep you alive, hoping you would come in useful at some point.”
Ralph glanced at Constance somberly, then continued. “The bandit’s messengers next arrived at Charles’ home. The amount was reduced, but the message was the same. From all accounts, Charles was gleeful. He was now in charge of the negotiations. He would either end up with you dead, or with you in his control. To be fair, I think he preferred the second. He does seem to have some familial care left. In any case, he was in no rush to complete the deal. He wanted to get the lowest price possible, and to drag the proceedings on to give a long break to the fighting. That would let him rebuild his own forces and perhaps gain the upper hand.”
Constance nodded. “So finally he decided not to pay at all, and sent in the mercenaries?”
Ralph looked away for a moment. “No,” he responded shortly.
Constance glanced up in surprise. “Then who sent the forces in to rescue me?” she asked in confusion.
Ralph shrugged and spread his arms wide. “The Angelus were apparently raiding a local bandit stronghold when they just happened to come across you. Realizing at once who you were, they brought you to the nearest safe stronghold – that of Gabriel. He contacted your brother and husband.” He chuckled softly. “Your brother got to you first.”
At the mention of Gabriel’s name, Constance shivered. He had looked so strong, so sure of himself … so disinterested in her. “He lives in the area, then?”
Ralph nodded. “He has inherited the keep at High Newton by-the-Sea.”
Constance looked over in confusion. “I thought he was an orphan?”
“Yes,” Ralph agreed, “but he had spent a great deal of time with Sir Templeton in Jerusalem before he joined your family, and after he left that service he rejoined the knight in the Crusades. A few months ago the knight fell ill and petitioned the king to allow the transfer, as he had no kin of his own. Because of Gabriel’s valuable service, the king agreed. The knight died a short while ago, I believe, and Gabriel is now in charge of that household and the troops.”
Constance sat back, her mind awhirl. She could see Gabriel’s eyes before her, see the broad build of his shoulders, the sturdiness of his hands. She could see the shape of his lips, so quick to laugh.
She closed her eyes, turning on her side. He was gone to her.
She heard Ralph get up and slowly walk from the room. In a moment the door opened and shut. She waited another minute, then two, then she let the tears flow.
Chapter 6
A slim girl of perhaps thirteen was pushing her way quietly into the room when Constance awoke the next morning. The girl seemed familiar to her, and she sat staring at the apparition in green for several long moments, trying to place her. A name floated around in her head, finally connecting itself to the girl’s face.
“Audrey?” she asked with curiosity.
The dark haired face beamed with pleasure. “You remember my name!” she called with cheerful glee. “Yes, it is me. I have brought you breakfast, and we can see about getting you back to full health.” She came fully through the door with a tray, bringing it over to rest on Constance’s lap. She helped Constance up to a seated position, then moved over to the fire to stoke it to life.
The smell of the food woke an appetite in Constance, and she dove into the oatmeal with vigor. It was only after the third or fourth bite that she remembered where she had seen Audrey. It was in Gabriel’s keep. She looked up in surprise, meeting the girl’s eyes.
“Why are you here?” she asked in confusion.
The girl smiled widely. “My mother is a healer,” she explained. “When you were sent from my lord’s house, he had me go along with you, to keep an eye on you during the trip.” She glanced toward the door. “When we arrived, the lady of the keep was complaining that she could not spare any of her own maids to care for you. Once I heard this I volunteered to stay until you felt better. I told them that my lord had said as much when he sent me along. That was that, and here I am.”
Constance was at a loss for words. Gabriel had sent one of his own servants to care for her? She took in a few more spoonfuls to cover her confusion. “Thank you for staying,” she finally offered.
“That is why I was sent,” responded Audrey with a smile. “My lord has always been quite kind to me, and I am glad to repay him in any way I can.”
Constance finished up the rest of the meal, and Audrey removed the tray with a nod of approval. “I will have a bath sent up for you in the evening, but first, it looks like you could use some more rest.” Constance was too weary to resist; she allowed Audrey to tuck the comforter back around her shoulders. She drew in a long, deep breath, relishing her newfound safety. In a few moments she fell into a deep sleep.
***
The next morning she felt far more alert, and found herself free enough of pain to contemplate an exploration of the keep. The room still seemed too much like a cell, and she wanted to be around people. She found a few outfits laid out neatly in the dresser, all in the family colors. She dressed herself in a long yellow tunic over a white chemise, then headed down to the main hall, following the rich smells of bacon and sausage.
“Connie!” called out her brother with mild warmth as she came into the room. He moved around the head table, wending through the many other tables and people to come to her side. “Are you feeling better, then? I am so pleased! Come, join us!”
He guided her through to the main table, settling her on one side of him. From his other s
ide, Alison watched her with a mix of wariness and cautious welcome. Charles’ wife was perhaps twenty years old, with a slim figure and long, stunning blonde hair.
“The guest room is to your satisfaction, I hope?” she asked with brittle crispness.
Constance blushed. This had, after all, been her home at one time. She nodded and smiled her thanks. “I am quite comfortable, thank you,” she responded agreeably.
Another trencher was brought for her, and she dove into the delicious chicken and turnip stew with abandon. It had been years since she had eaten food this rich and flavorful.
Alison’s voice suddenly snapped across the table. “So, what was it like, your captivity? Was the cell dark? Moldy?”
Constance knife stilled mid-cut. She looked up with fear, the words vividly bringing back the memories of the pitch-black cell, the cold walls layered with slime, the intense loneliness …
Charles saw the look at once and shot a scolding glance at his young wife. “You do not need to think on any of that now,” he said gently to his sister, his face softening into a semblance of familial concern, patting her hand. “Put it out of your mind. You are safe here.”
“Yes, of course,” mumbled Constance absently, trying to shake off the feeling. She focused on the food before her and avoided saying anything for the rest of the meal. She found her center slowly returning, and felt restored as she finished the last bite.
“Your table is set far better than any I can remember,” she praised her brother and sister-in-law.
Alison looked up in surprise, then hesitantly smiled at the compliment. Suddenly a bevy of children swarmed around her, and she turned, sighing. “Not now, kids, Mother is busy, there is a lot still to be done before tonight,” she protested distractedly, pushing them off, looking around absently. “Just where is that nanny of yours?”
Constance gazed down at the cherubic toddlers. Alison had begun having children the moment she married Charles. She had been sixteen then, and they had borne four children in as many years. All of the youngsters were fresh and healthy, their tufts of blonde hair matched with broad smiles.
She had no desire to return to her cell of a room, and knew that being left alone would result in her mind wandering where she did not wish it to go. Here was the perfect solution. “Let me take them for a while,” she offered with a soft smile. “It is the least I can do in exchange for your hospitality.”
Alison looked doubtful. “Are you sure? I know their nanny is around here somewhere …”
Constance stood, nodding. “It would be my pleasure,” she insisted. She swept up the youngest – Ava, two years old with a bright shock of golden curls – and led the troupe over into a corner of the hall. The twin boys, Alond and Alain, curled up immediately at her feet, while Lucia, the eldest at four, sat herself primly on the bench at Constance’s side.
The morning passed in quiet contentment for the group, with Constance spinning tales for the children sitting spellbound at her feet. She found herself finally relaxing, finally loosening her shoulder muscles, finally feeling safe. The hubbub of the keep moved around her as a blur. She was perfectly content in her back corner, the four children looking up with their round, eager eyes as she told them about pirates and pixies, knights and ladies fair.
A bubble of amused laughter sounded above her. Alison stood there looking at her brood in amazement. “I swear, you have quite the touch, Constance! I have never seen them this quiet for this long before. You have done a world of good!”
Constance stood up, her muscles aching slightly. She pushed the feeling off and waved to the little ones as their nanny bundled them off to lunch.
Alison came over closer to Constance, looking her over with a fresh eye. “My sister Gaynor is coming to visit, and thanks to your help I am nearly ready for her.” She paused for a moment, then admitted in a more quiet voice, “Having your maidservant here has been an assistance as well; my own staff was becoming overwhelmed with the work.”
“Whatever I can do while I am here, you have but to ask,” quietly offered Constance. “I am happy to help.”
Alison flushed with embarrassment, but nodded. “Well, then, come to lunch,” she offered. The two women moved to the main table to eat.
Alison looked around with a sharp eye. “You there, bring the mead!” she called out imperiously, and the maid ran to do her mistress’ bidding. Constance bit her tongue at the preemptory tone; her mother would never have snapped at the maids in such a manner. This was no longer her home, however, and she had no right to dictate how servants were treated.
In a moment Charles came to join them, and Alison’s attention was absorbed by his discussion about the upcoming plans for their guest. Constance ate in silence, allowing the conversation to flow around her. The time flew by quickly, and soon she was on her own again.
She sought out the children for the afternoon, nestling again in their corner of the hall, finding a safe refuge in playing quietly with the foursome. The twin boys were building a castle with wooden blocks, while Lucia and Ava played at cloth dolls. Constance enjoyed the gentle babble, their simple joy, the closeness of their small bodies, the safety of the serene nook.
She was still curled up there, her yellow dress dusty and stained, when there was a commotion in the front archway. Alison let out a squeal of joy and came running from a side room to embrace a younger, red-headed version of herself. The newcomer had a lush, full figure, and was wearing a captivating dress of red and gold. The two sisters hugged in warm welcome for several long minutes before pulling apart.
“Gaynor, you are here early!” cried out Alison in surprise. “I had not expected you for many hours yet! You remember my husband, Charles?” She turned to loop an arm possessively through Charles’, drawing him near. “Charles, my younger sister.”
“Of course,” agreed Charles, bending to give the girl a courtly kiss on the hand. “You have grown since the last time I saw you.”
“I am a full sixteen years old now,” boasted the lass with pride, “I am a woman now, no longer a girl!”
Charles chuckled, looking over her bright smile and buxom figure. “I can see that for myself,” he agreed with a wink. “You are welcome to our home.”
Gaynor turned to look over the pile of children who had pulled themselves into some order behind their parents. “These must be the tykes themselves! Look at them all. My, you have been busy, Alison!”
Alison waved her hand down the line. “Here is Lucia, the eldest. Then Alond and Alain, the twins, and finally Ava, our youngest. They are an inseparable mob, much like we were.”
Gaynor glanced at Constance dismissively. “This is their nanny, I assume?”
Alison’s mouth quirked into an amused smile. “You would be addressing Lady Constance, oh sister of mine.”
Gaynor’s ready smile vanished in an instant, replaced by a look of shocked consternation. She drew her eyes down Constance’s disheveled hair and dust-smeared outfit in one long scan, then immediately dropped into a curtsy. “I am so sorry, My Lady,” she whispered, her face turning flame red. “I just thought …”
Constance had been watching the family reunion with mild amusement, and stepped forward to release the girl from her self-flagellation. “I do not mind, really,” she offered quietly. “I have been playing nanny to my nieces and nephews, and I am quite content in that role. They are darling children.”
Gaynor stood slowly, her eyes going round. “So you are the one who got stuck with Lord Barnard,” she whispered in excitement, glancing at her sister. “Alison always prayed her thanks that another woman had been sent his way, saving her from that fate. We used to call him …”
Alison’s face went bright with mortification. “Gaynor, hush!” she called sharply. “This is his wife you are speaking to!”
Constance glanced between the two sisters with a chuckle. It appeared that her time at her childhood home might be more entertaining than she would have thought. It had never occurred to her that other women
in the area might see her as a savior of sorts, sparing them a fate they did not desire.
“I would be interested in hearing what you called him,” offered a low voice from behind Gaynor’s shoulder. Constance knew that voice; she heard it in her sleep, heard its whispers when she lay awake at night. Her gaze moved up in one long sweep, meeting Gabriel’s eyes.
Gaynor gave a laugh. “Oh, I forgot to mention,” she bubbled cheerfully. “Gabriel here was visiting our house this morning and offered to escort me along for the day, to keep me company. We have had a delightful ride. I believe you know him?”
Alison nodded. “Yes, of course,” she agreed, stepping forward to offer her hand.
Gabriel gave a warm smile. “My Lady, you look as beautiful as always,” he praised, bringing his head down to kiss her fingers. He then turned to shake hands with Charles, the men’s eyes wary but accepting.
Constance felt keenly the disheveled state of her hair, the dusty aspect of her clothes. She saw the dismissive look in Gabriel’s eyes as he swept them along to hers. His voice was cool. “Lady Barnard.”
Constance winced at the bite of his greeting, that he would refer to her only as Barnard’s wife. She hid the pain by dropping her eyes to the floor, holding a curtsy. “My Lord,” she murmured in return, her throat tight. By the time she had looked up again, he had taken Gaynor by the arm, and the two were walking over to the main table, laughing together at some jest.
Alison moved up alongside her husband and nudged him in the ribs. “They make quite a pair, do they not?” she asked quietly, her voice full of approval.
“Indeed, that would not be a bad thing at all,” agreed Charles with a nod. “We will have to see how we can assist this along.”
The two walked behind Gaynor and Gabriel, arm in arm. Constance stood still, watching them go, the world closing in around her.