by Anne Herries
‘Very well,’ the prince said and took a leg of capon, tearing into the soft flesh and speaking with his mouth full. ‘My men and I will sleep here for one night. Your hall will do well enough for my men. I shall sleep here on the bench by the fire.’
‘As you wish, Highness. If you will excuse me, I must speak to my steward and make the arrangements.’
The prince nodded but made no reply as he investigated a mess of meat and worts with his fingers.
Raphael went out. He summoned his steward and gave him certain orders, then took the stairs that led to the tower room where the lady Angelina was resting.
Rosamunde’s heart jerked as she heard the knock at her door and then saw it open to admit the man she had half-expected.
‘Sir,’ she said, and rose to her feet. ‘What news? What demands did the prince make?’
‘He bid me keep you a captive here on pain of death. You are to be hostage for your father’s good behaviour. Unless he obeys the prince, your life will be forfeit.’
‘No!’ Her throat tightened. ‘My father…the count…it cannot be. He would not surrender his honour for me.’
‘Why? Surely any man of honour would surrender his person for his daughter’s sake?’
Rosamunde’s breath caught. She hesitated, but knew that she must confess the truth. ‘I am not his daughter —I am Rosamunde Meldreth, merely Lady Angelina’s cousin on her mother’s side. Count Torrs would not give his life for me.’
‘Are you telling me the truth?’ Raphael’s hand shot out and gripped her wrist. ‘Do not lie to me or it will go ill with you, lady.’
Rosamunde almost cried out for his grip was firm on her flesh but she would not show fear. She raised her head to look defiantly into his eyes.
‘My cousin did not wish to surrender herself to you. She knew of your reputation and so she sent me in her place.’
‘Why did you come? Surely you could have refused her?’ Raphael asked.
‘My father owes hers money and she said he could be imprisoned for debt. My father is ill and if I do as she asked the debt is cancelled.’ Rosamunde’s eyes pricked with tears. ‘She only gave me half the ransom money and now I do not know what will happen.’
‘You are safe enough for the moment. The prince does not know you came as the count’s daughter. I have told him you are my kinswoman and for the moment he has accepted it. He came here looking for money. I shall give him a small donation to his coffers and hope that he will leave us in peace,’ Raphael revealed.
‘You lied to me!’ she gasped.
‘Because I believed you were lying to me, and I needed the truth if I am to help you. If the prince knew your identity he might still make you his prisoner,’ he pointed out.
‘Where is the prince?’
‘Resting. He leaves in the morning.’
‘Will you let him take my uncle with him when he leaves?’ she asked breathlessly.
‘I have already informed the prince Count Torrs escaped before you arrived,’ Raphael said, deciding that it would be best to tell her as little as necessary. If, God forbid, she was ever held as the prince’s prisoner she couldn’t tell what she didn’t know. ‘You will not be required to pay the ransom.’
‘Will you allow me to leave? One of my escorts is here in the village waiting for me,’ she said.
‘My men knew his intention and it was reported to me. Fitzherbert has been sent away. You will remain here under my protection for the moment,’ Raphael told her.
‘But if…’ Rosamunde’s knees trembled. ‘Am I your prisoner?’
‘We live in uncertain times, lady. You would not be safe if I let you leave here. I cannot be sure you have told me the whole truth but, even if you are Rosamunde and not the lady Angelina, you must remain here until I have time to escort you to your home.’
‘Fitzherbert would have seen me home.’ She gave him an accusing look. ‘Why did you send him away?’
‘For his safety and yours. If Prince John became suspicious and believed you were the count’s daughter, he might take you with him. Here you will be my guest, though not at liberty to leave. The prince might yet cast you into a dungeon and, if the count did not surrender or pay the ransom demanded, leave you to rot.’
Rosamunde shivered. ‘And you—what do you want of me, sir?’
‘What makes you believe I want something of you?’ he parried lightly.
‘Why did you take my uncle captive and hold him for a ransom?’
‘You ask too many questions, lady. I shall answer when I am ready. At the moment I have a royal guest to keep happy or we may all be in trouble.’
He gave her a look that made the back of her neck prickle.
Rosamunde stared after him as he turned and left her. She was still shivering but more from apprehension than from fear. He’d said she was under his protection and told her she would not be asked for the ransom—but he wanted something of her. Otherwise he would have provided her with an escort and sent her home.
Chapter Four
Raphael watched as the prince and his escort rode away the next morning. He had given him five-hundred silver talents, but he knew it was not enough to satisfy the greedy prince for long. He’d wanted its equivalent in gold and would no doubt return to demand more before long. If a tribute was not offered freely, the next thing would be a visit from the prince’s tax collectors. Any noble who refused to pay might be subject to a royal decree and the confiscation of property, or even his estate. The poor of the land suffered far worse injustices, for the tax collectors had been known to strip a village of all its grain, pigs and any other item of value. It was hardly to be wondered at that the people cried out for help and, it was said, held the outlaw Loxley in high regard, often protecting him from the Shire Reeve of Nottingham.
‘Did he suspect anything, my lord?’
His steward’s question brought Raphael from his reverie. ‘I think he may have been suspicious but he knows nothing for sure—besides, the lady is only cousin to the count’s daughter. She was sent in her cousin’s stead. However, that might not save her if she fell into the prince’s hands. He might try to use her as a tool to bring the count to heel. She may not be his daughter, but I found the count a man of honour. He might feel obliged to surrender his person to Prince John if his daughter’s companion were in danger of her life.’
‘He should surely be on board a ship or have reached his destination by now?’ Mellors asked.
‘We must hope both he and the gold I sent are safely on their way to Richard. England has suffered too long at the hands of a tyrant and Richard is badly needed at home.’
‘What will the King find if he returns? There are those that believe Prince John will make certain his brother is murdered as soon as his feet touch English soil.’
‘We must make certain that does not happen. In a day or so I shall send out messengers and then, when I have answers, I may have to leave for meetings with men who wish to see Richard on the throne once more,’ Raphael revealed.
‘What of the lady, my lord? Is she to be kept a prisoner?’ Mellors enquired.
‘She has the freedom of the castle but may not leave unless I give the word. It is for her own sake that I keep her here. I believe her to be extremely vulnerable, as her father is unable or unwilling to care for her, and her cousin obviously cares nothing for her safety. Until I can find the time to escort her home, she must stay here,’ Raphael said with a frown.
‘I think she will not be content to be idle for long, my lord. She sent for me this morning and asked that she might be given some work,’ Mellors told him.
‘Is there no mending to be done?’
‘Your father neglected such things. I believe there are whole chests that are filled with linen needing repair,’ Mellors said with a smile.
‘Then show her where they are to be found and let her see to it. You have done well in difficult circumstances, Mellors, but this house needs a woman’s touch. Until such time as the lady Rosamunde le
aves—or I find a bride—we may as well take advantage of her industry.’
‘She will need women to help her, my lord. We have none here save her own servant, and an old crone who sits by the kitchen fire and mutters that she remembers the old times when your mother lived.’
‘Is old Deborah still here? I thought her long dead.’ Raphael smiled. ‘Send for women from the village to attend Lady Rosamunde.’ He saw the steward’s expression. ‘What? You think they will not come because of my father’s reputation?’ He frowned, then added, ‘Tell them my father is dead and I am home—ask for their pardon and say I will swear that no harm shall come to any woman who attends the lady Rosamunde.’
‘Very well, my lord.’ Mellors smiled. ‘I think the women will remember you. You are not as your father was and they will come.’
‘We must hope that you are right.’ Raphael turned towards the house. ‘My father’s crimes must be redressed. I shall need your help in costing what must be paid to those he harmed. Attend to your other work and then come to me in my solar.’
‘The prince left it in some disarray, sir. It looks as if he—or one of his men—searched for something. The servants are setting all to rights, but I think someone took a silver ewer.’
‘The prince’s men are all thieves and rogues,’ Raphael said, his lips curling in a sneer of disgust. ‘We must think ourselves lucky that for the moment he does not demand the surrender of my father’s lands. As for his search of the solar, there was little to find. My father’s gold has gone to buy Richard’s freedom, and his ledgers are locked in my coffer.’
‘It will be a happy day when the King returns to this country, my lord,’ Mellors said fervently.
‘Pray God it is soon. Please excuse me, I have work to do.’
* * *
‘My lord asks for your help in the matter of some mending, lady,’ Mellors said. ‘We have sent to the village for women to help you, but you will have the charge of them.’
‘I am very willing to set the work in motion,’ Rosamunde said. ‘Please show me where the chests of linen are stored and I will make a start myself.’
‘There is a considerable amount. I do not think a stitch has been set since the late Lady Mornay died.’
‘I thought Lord Mornay had several wives.’
‘I meant Lord Mornay’s mother—the only true lady to set foot in this house until you came, lady.’
‘Lord Mornay’s mother?’
Rosamunde followed the steward through the hall to a storeroom at the back of the house. She frowned, for the steward’s words did not make sense unless…
‘How long has the present Lord Mornay been the lord of this castle?’
The steward pointed to three chests and then turned to look at her. ‘His father became ill two months since, just after Count Torrs was taken captive. He ordered us to send word to his son. We had heard that Sir Raphael was on his way home from the Crusades but were not sure where to find him. We sent messages to Normandy, France, Italy and the Low Countries and at last he was found. Alas, his father died just three weeks before he returned.’
‘The present lord did not order the capture of my uncle, then, did he?’ Rosamunde stared at the steward. ‘Why did he not tell me? Why was I allowed to believe he was the one who had done such heinous things?’
‘It is not my place to explain my lord’s actions, lady. The linen is in those chests. You will find threads in the smaller chests and mending in the larger two. If you will excuse me, I shall leave you to your work,’ Mellors said.
‘Yes, at least I may have something to occupy my time while his lordship keeps me prisoner here,’ Rosamunde retorted bitterly.
‘You are at liberty to go where you please within the castle, but please do not try to leave. The men will be forced to stop you,’ the steward warned gently.
‘I must speak to Lord Mornay. He must understand, my father needs me. I have to go home!’ Rosamunde exclaimed in frustration.
‘Forgive me, lady. I have my orders. My lord is busy; you disturb him at your peril.’
Rosamunde frowned as the man inclined his head and then walked away, leaving her to examine the contents of the chests. Opening the first, she discovered torn garments and bed linens in a disgusting condition; everything looked as if it needed laundering before being stored. Closing the lid of the first coffer, she opened the other and discovered that it contained a very different kind of work. Taking the first piece from the chest, she saw that it was a half-finished wall hanging; the work was delicate and beautiful and the silks needed for its completion were folded inside it.
She lifted the other tapestries and discovered that most of them had been started and then abandoned. Such work would be a pleasure to do and Rosamunde would gain great satisfaction in completing the almost-finished wall hanging. Sighing in regret, she replaced it in the coffer. She would return to retrieve it later, but first she must make a start on the garments from the first chest, since these were clearly what Lord Mornay had asked her to repair.
She plunged in and pulled out an armful of linens. Her first stop would be the outhouse where she could set up a washing tub, though why most of these items had not been consigned to the fire in the first place she had no idea. Even when washed and mended they would not be fit for the lord of the manor and ought to be given to the poor.
* * *
Raphael gave up on the muddle of his father’s accounts and left his chamber, going through to the hall. Servants were busy setting up the trestles for the evening meal, but he had more than an hour before supper, and the thought of a stroll about the castle grounds appealed after too many hours spent poring over ledgers. As he walked through the hall into the courtyard he checked as an amazing sight met his startled eyes: everywhere he looked there were lines of rope with what looked like wet rags thrown across them.
‘What is this mess?’ he demanded of a servant carrying a wooden pail of water in the direction of one of the outbuildings.
‘It is the lady, sir,’ the servant replied. ‘She has been washing linens the whole day and bid us set up these lines to dry it all. I am taking her water to rinse the last of the linens.’
‘Then lead on and I shall follow,’ Raphael said and swore under his breath. What had the foolish woman been doing? Most of what he’d seen looked fit only for burning.
As he entered the outhouse Rosamunde had commandeered for her marathon task, he saw her bending over a large wooden tub, her sleeves rolled up above her elbows and her arms plunged into water. She was intent on her scrubbing and did not look up immediately.
‘What possessed you to do all this?’ he demanded. ‘My bailey looks like a washerwoman’s yard. How are my men supposed to train and do their work with wet linen everywhere?’
‘You asked me to mend these things,’ Rosamunde said, and pushed a lock of hair back from her eyes. Her arms were red from the water and harsh soap used for laundering and she looked exhausted. ‘I cannot mend linen in such a disgusting state. Everything had to be washed first.’
‘Did Mellors not tell you women were to be brought from the village to help?’ Raphael picked up a linen tunic that had large holes in it. ‘What do you imagine I want with such rags? Have some sense, wench. I meant only to give you some mending or fine sewing. If I wanted all this linen sorted I would’ve set the servants to it.’
‘Some of the garments need only a few stitches to make them useful again—though I must admit I thought others fit only for the fire.’
Raphael stared at her, seeing the frustration and tiredness, and then he laughed. ‘Well, my lady, you wanted employment and it seems you found more than you bargained for.’
‘It is all very well to laugh,’ she said crossly. ‘Your steward showed me the chests. I would have preferred to work on the tapestries I found, for they are beautiful, but I thought it was my duty to do as you wished.’
‘Tapestries?’ A mixture of emotions flitted across his face: remembered love, affection and sadness. �
��My mother was a skilled needlewoman. I dare say she left work half-done when she fell ill.’
‘The one I saw half-finished was very beautiful.’
‘Would you like to finish it?’ Raphael asked softly.
‘Yes, very much.’
‘Then leave such menial tasks to others. Tomorrow you will have women to attend you even if I have to kidnap them and bring them here myself,’ he said wryly.
‘You will do no such thing!’ she said sharply. ‘You should send me home with a small escort. My father needs me. I should be there to care for him.’
‘I am sorry your father is not well. I will send someone to see how he fares and bring you word of him, but I cannot allow you to return home just yet.’
Rosamunde dried her arms on a cloth and let her sleeves down with some relief. ‘I do not see why I should be forced to remain here if I do not wish it. You said you did not require a ransom—why then will you not let me leave?’
‘Because it would not be safe for you, Rosamunde. Your father cannot protect you and you unwisely angered the prince. He might decide that he would hold you to ransom instead of your cousin,’ he pointed out.
‘My father has nothing left. He beggared himself to help the King—and he gave all he had left towards Richard’s ransom. He has nothing but the roof above his head and even that may be forfeit when the tax collectors discover he has nothing for them to steal,’ Rosamunde told him sadly.
‘Have they stolen from your father in the past?’
‘The prince’s tax collectors steal from anyone who cannot protect himself or his family.’
‘Is that why you were forced to obey your cousin and bring the ransom here?’ he wanted to know.
‘My father cannot pay his debts. I had no choice.’
‘What would you have done had I demanded the ultimate sacrifice of you?’ he asked curiously.
‘I—I do not know,’ she whispered. He saw the colour drain from her face and cursed softly.