The Norman's Heart

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The Norman's Heart Page 5

by Margaret Moore


  That idea did not please Roger at all. “I have made an agreement with Reginald,” he said. “I intend to keep it.”

  The baron smiled, a truly warm expression of satisfaction he rarely bestowed. “Good. I believed you to be a man of your word, and now I know it is so. A long and happy life to you!”

  “Thank you, baron,” Roger said with great politeness. Inside, he was seething with rage. The baron had no need to test his honor, not after the years Roger had spent in his service, and after he had agreed to tie himself to a useless fool like Chilcott with a marriage that the baron had proposed. Baron DeGuerre should know that for Sir Roger de Montmorency, disloyalty was more terrible than any of the mortal sins, and worthy of the most ghastly hell imaginable.

  “I did not mean to offend you, Roger,” the baron said sincerely. He looked down at his own powerful hands, which had fought so many times and killed so many men. “I was thinking of your happiness. If you would rather not marry Mina Chilcott, I will not take it amiss.”

  “Are you interested...?” Roger let his deliberately tranquil voice trail off suggestively.

  “Gracious God, no! I have no wish to marry again,” the baron responded with unquestionable sincerity.

  “I have no complaint to make about the arrangements,” Roger said, his suspicions allayed, though he was somewhat unhappy for his overlord. Baron DeGuerre’s two marriages had given him wealth and status, but perhaps, Roger thought, perhaps that was all.

  What was wrong with that? What other reasons could a man have for marrying? “I do have one cause for some trepidation,” Roger said in a more jovial tone. “I fear that on my wedding night, my bride may be harder to pierce than my shield.”

  The baron chuckled. “I do not doubt your ability to kindle passion in even the coldest maiden.”

  Roger raised his goblet in acknowledgement, and the two men shared a companionable laugh.

  They did not see Mina, standing on the stairs in the shadows, a deep frown on her face.

  Unable to sleep, Mina had waited for the noise in the hall to cease. The cacophony had died down, but she had not heard Reginald and wondered what was happening to keep him below. Then she thought she heard Hilda’s giggle. She had tried to tell herself it didn’t matter what Sir Roger was doing, or with whom. They were not married yet. Even then, many men had dalliances with women other than their wives.

  She had looked out the door anyway, to see Hilda supporting an obviously drunk Reginald and helping him into his room. Mina tarried a little longer and soon saw Hilda leave Reginald’s chamber and go below. Perhaps looking for Sir Roger?

  Again Mina tried to convince herself that it didn’t matter, and again she didn’t quite succeed. She crept down the steps, listening carefully. When she drew near the hall, she realized that most of the guests had also retired for the night. Hilda was nowhere to be seen, nor the ubiquitous Dudley. Only Sir Roger and the baron were awake and talking together at the high table.

  She had turned, prepared to go back to her chamber, when she caught mention of her name. Slipping into the shadows, she stayed and heard them talking about her as if she were no more than any common wench. To Mina, they seemed like grotesquely leering jesters making sport at her expense.

  What a silly little fool she had been for even starting to think that Roger de Montmorency might be any different from every man she had ever known. She had been a dolt to feel anything for him. He was like all the others.

  She began to walk back to her chamber, recalling what she had overheard. The idea that Sir Roger could make her swoon with ecstasy without even trying was enough to make her grind her teeth in anger. The boastful, vain, pompous creature! No doubt all the women he had made love with so far had been like Hilda, serving wenches or peasants who believed there was something special about a nobleman, or who wanted something in return, like money or advancement.

  Well, she knew better. Noblemen were men first, and seldom noble. If her betrothed thought he could just crook his finger and find Mina Chilcott waiting patiently in the nuptial bed, he would soon learn otherwise.

  Chapter Four

  Sir Roger de Montmorency’s wedding day dawned gray and unseasonably cool, with a heavy drizzle and chill breezes that made it seem as if an October day had somehow found its way to July by mistake.

  “What are you going to do?” Albert asked the groom, who stood at the door of the hall staring gloomily out into the inner ward. “You could have the blessing in the chapel rather than outside the doors, I suppose.”

  “I suppose,” Roger answered. “But the chapel is too small. All the guests won’t be able to go inside, and those who do not fit will probably feel insulted.” He sighed deeply as Dudley bustled about the hall behind him, admonishing the servants or mumbling to himself. “God’s wounds,” Roger snarled, “this wedding is too much trouble. And it’s costing a fortune, too.”

  “Chilcott’s paying for most of it,” Albert reminded him. “And the baron’s pleased.”

  “He should be,” Roger muttered.

  “She’s not as bad as all that.”

  Roger didn’t respond except to close the door and turn around just as Hilda sauntered by. She gave him a tentative smile. “Has Lord Chilcott managed to crawl out of his bed?” he asked the maidservant, mindful of the goblets of wine the young man had ingested, and grateful that he wasn’t the one paying for it.

  “Aye, my lord,” Hilda answered with a throaty chuckle. “But the poor fellow looks like a corpse.”

  “And his sister?”

  “She’s not come out of her chamber, and I don’t think she intends to until the wedding. The door’s locked and she’s not letting anybody in. Says she wants to be alone. To pray. I, um, didn’t think I should wait.”

  Roger had no idea what Lady Mina was doing, and he was in no humor to try to decipher her mood. “See that Lord Chilcott is well cared for. I don’t want him too sick to attend the ceremony.”

  “Aye, my lord.” Another less cautious smile, and Hilda was gone.

  “If he can’t drink well, he shouldn’t drink at all,” Roger remarked grimly.

  “Not everyone has your capacity, Roger.”

  “Then he should have gone to bed, like you.”

  “What do you suppose the bride is doing?”

  “What does it matter, as long as she’s at the blessing on time.”

  Albert cleared his throat deferentially. “What are you going to do about Hilda? It’s well known that you two have been rather intimate.”

  “So what of that?”

  “So you’re getting married today. I don’t think your bride will appreciate the knowledge.”

  “I don’t care what she thinks. Besides, it’s finished.”

  “Perhaps it would be better if you were to send Hilda to one of your smaller estates, at least for the time being.”

  Roger gave Albert a disgruntled look. “I think I’m capable of making my own decisions.”

  “Very well,” Albert said with a shrug. “Do as you wish.”

  “I intend to.” Roger eyed his friend. “For a man who has never married, you seem to be quite adept at dispensing advice to the prospective groom.”

  When Roger saw the torment in his friend’s eyes, he regretted his hasty words. He knew the sad story of Albert’s youth and the reason he looked far older than he actually was, and he realized he had been cruel to speak to Albert in such a way.

  Rather than admit he had acted cruelly, however, he said, “If the weather doesn’t clear, we’ll have the ceremony in the hall. It can be decorated early, I suppose.”

  “Would you like me to tell Dudley?” Albert offered, and Roger was relieved to see that apparently all was forgiven.

  “No. Let’s wait awhile. In the meantime, I’ll make sure the guests’ men and animals are being well treated.”

  “As long as you’re not late for the wedding,” Albert said.

  Although Albert’s tone was innocuous enough, Roger slanted him a suspiciou
s look. “I won’t be,” he said firmly before he marched from the hall.

  When Hilda and Aldys, one of the older and more experienced maidservants, arrived to help Mina dress for the wedding, they were surprised to see the bride sitting serenely in the small chair. She was already attired in a lovely gown of rich, dark green velvet girdled with a supple belt of bronze links and delicately embroidered about the neck and long dangling cuffs with fine gold thread. Beneath the gown she wore an undertunic of thin golden silk. Her thick, wavy hair was brushed and ornamented with a slender circlet of gold. In her hands she held a fine coverlet of embroidered linen.

  Hilda and Aldys glanced uncertainly at each other, wondering if they were going to be chastised for being tardy.

  “This should go to my lord’s bedchamber,” Lady Mina announced, nodding at the coverlet. She pointed at a silver carafe standing on the table nearby. “And that wine, too. They are marriage gifts from my relatives.”

  “My lady,” Hilda said, “forgive us for not coming sooner.” She bit her lip and wiped her perspiring palms on her homespun gown, for she knew, despite Sir Roger’s guarantee, that she should still be wary of Sir Roger’s wife. “We were busy with the preparations below and did not know you were waiting for us, and—”

  Lady Mina held up her slender hand, and Hilda was quite taken aback to see how work worn it was. Why, this fine lady had hands like a scullery maid. She was no pampered, spoiled person, Hilda thought, impressed, and Lady Mina’s next words confirmed her estimation of her new mistress. “I prefer to dress myself, not being used to maidservants. Is Lord Chilcott well enough to attend the blessing?”

  “Yes, my lady,” Hilda answered softly and with true respect, taking the coverlet. It was very soft and she resisted the urge to rub her cheek on it.

  “Good. Go now, and fetch me when it’s time for the ceremony.”

  “If you’re sure you don’t need any help...”

  “I am quite sure I have everything prepared,” Lady Chilcott answered, her eyes on the carafe that Aldys hurried to pick up.

  When Hilda and Aldys left the chamber, they paused and looked at each other. “What do you make of her?” Aldys asked. “She didn’t look angry.”

  “No, she didn’t,” Hilda replied thoughtfully. “She’s a deep one, she is. Did you see her hands?”

  “She’s done some work with them, that’s for sure, and not just sewing,” Aldys said solemnly.

  “I think I’m going to like her.”

  “She hasn’t had you sent away yet, at least.”

  “Why should she?” Hilda demanded with more bravado than she felt.

  Aldys gave her friend a skeptical frown as they went up the spiral stairs to the tower bedchamber. “You know why.”

  “She needn’t know about that. Besides, those days are done with,” Hilda replied.

  “I wouldn’t want her angry at me,” Aldys remarked forcefully.

  “Sir Roger rules here, not her,” Hilda said as she pushed open the door of Sir Roger’s large bedchamber and quickly laid the coverlet where Lady Mina had directed, a slight sigh escaping her lips. The linen didn’t reach all the way across the plump feather bed.

  Aldys, who had never been in the room before, moved much slower and took her time looking around.

  The walls were plain, undressed stone. There were no tapestries, although there were hooks, indicating that tapestries might be hung there in the colder weather. A huge chest with a painting depicting Daniel in the lion’s den stood in one corner, a bronze brazier was in the other, and in the middle of the room was a round table and one heavy carved chair. There was only one other item of furniture in the room, and that was the immense bed, with tall posts carved to look like trees covered in vines, and thick bed curtains surrounding it.

  “Come,” Hilda said, giving the coverlet a final look. “Dudley will be having seven fits if we’re not back soon.”

  Aldys, still overwhelmed by the size of the bed, only nodded in response.

  Several minutes later, Reginald Chilcott knocked softly on the door to Mina’s bedchamber. The bride herself opened it, attired in the wedding finery that he had given her as part of his wedding gift. If Mina had her way, she probably would have worn any old rag, despite the presence of numerous noble guests and Baron DeGuerre. Her hair, loose and adorned with the thin circlet, framed her unusual face in a most becoming manner.

  He noticed as he entered that she was quite alone. “Where are the maidservants?”

  “I sent them away. Is it time?” Mina asked, neither her face nor her voice betraying anything except mild interest.

  “Nearly,” he replied, not sure what to make of her. He hadn’t been able to fathom her since he had arrived from France to find this decisive, stern woman in place of the wistful child he had known. “You look...you look quite lovely,” he said encouragingly.

  She gave him a skeptical frown as she sat down on the only chair.

  “No, Mina, I mean it. I really do. That gown suits you perfectly. You...you look like your mother in that color.”

  Mina smiled at Reginald, overdressed and with his hair overcurled as usual. She wasn’t sure what was most ridiculous—the long, lavish plume on his brightly embroidered cap, the incredibly bright color of his green tunic or his parti-colored hose. And yet, as he stood there excited and eager to see her pleased with his gifts, she saw again the bewildered, insecure boy being taken away to France with his uncle to avoid any taint from his father’s Saxon wife. She had not been very old then, but she remembered that of all her half brothers, Reginald was the only one who had ever said a kind word to her. “Thank you for providing it.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Reginald answered sincerely as he stood awkwardly by the door. “I always liked your mother, you know. The first time Father brought her home, she kissed me and said she hoped I would be her friend. Her voice sounded like music. I was quite sorry to say farewell to her when my uncle took me away with him.” He came a little closer, toying with the heavily decorated leather belt around his waist “I know it wasn’t easy for you, with my brothers and sisters. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help. But, Mina, I think Sir Roger will be a good husband for you. I truly do.”

  Mina rose and went to the window. “He’ll be a husband, and more than that, I don’t expect.”

  “He’s not the cold brute he seems, really. He was most kind after those horrible ruffians left us in the woods. He was even polite to the abbot who was captured with us, and I assure you, that was no small feat. I mean, for a man of God, you should have heard him! He acted as if Sir Roger had been personally responsible for his discomfort. And it was Sir Roger who suggested this marriage, you know.”

  “I thought it was the Baron DeGuerre.”

  “No!” Reginald came a little closer. “He suggested only that I marry Madeline de Montmorency. It was Sir Roger who came up with the alternative.”

  “He only thought of it to please the baron,” she said.

  “Mina, you mustn’t take such a cold view of this. I mean, if Sir Roger didn’t want to marry you, he wouldn’t. He and the baron are such good friends, I’m quite certain the baron wouldn’t hold it against him if he changed his mind.”

  “You’re forgetting the value of our family name, Reginald. The baron needs your goodwill as much as you seek his.”

  Reginald did not look convinced.

  “I suppose the baron will be trying to make another match for you one day soon,” she said matter-of-factly, trying to alter the course of the conversation.

  “What?”

  “You would be a great prize, Reginald.” Not for a woman like herself, perhaps, who despised weakness, but he was a harmless, good-hearted fellow, and many a woman could do worse.

  “I’m...I’m not ready after what happened last time,” he stammered.

  In the next moment, however, he was pensively fingering one of his carefully arranged curls, and she had to suppress an indulgent smile. “Well, I would take care some wo
man doesn’t try to seduce you into marriage.”

  “I will,” he answered solemnly. Then he blushed and cleared his throat. “Since you’ve raised, um, the subject, Mina, is there anything you need to know...about the wedding night?”

  “I know what is expected of me,” she answered just as solemnly.

  Reginald looked very relieved. “Well, that’s good. Excellent.”

  She might have been tempted to smile again at her sibling’s comical discomfort, except for the sudden vision of a naked Sir Roger waiting for her in bed, his dark eyes watching her. Her pulse started to race, and it took some deep breaths to restore her calm.

  “When do you return to France?” she asked.

  “Oh, that,” he said. “Well, as a matter of fact, Mina, Sir Roger’s offered to let me stay here for a while. Southern France is so hot this time of year, and the travel would be so uncomfortable, I’ve agreed. And—” he lowered his voice and knit his brows together with genuine concern “—I do want to make sure he’s kind to you. I’ve heard how Father was near the end, and I think I owe you that much.”

  Mina suddenly felt rather remorseful for the unflattering things she had thought about Reginald in the past. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  There was a loud rap at the door, and Hilda’s head appeared. “It’s time, my lady,” she announced solemnly. Her gaze ran over Reginald. “My lord,” she said with some awe.

  “Well, Mina, shall we?” Reginald asked, holding out his arm to escort her to her wedding.

  “Yes, Reginald,” Mina replied, and with a purposefully blank face and a heart lacking any expectation of true marital felicity, she went.

  Chapter Five

  Roger surveyed his hall while taking small sips of the expensive wine imported from Agincourt. He was glad that the weather had cleared enough to allow the wedding ceremony to be held outside the chapel. Everyone had been able to see the bride and groom as they stood in front of the doors and pledged their troth, albeit barely looking at each other. For his part, Roger’s gaze had been fastened firmly on doddering Father Damien, who seemed blissfully unaware that the couple he was joining in holy matrimony didn’t seem particularly thrilled by the idea.

 

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