The Conqueror's Lady

by TERRI BRISBIN

  Had grief made his thoughts addled? she wondered. Surely, Father Henry did not think her father could speak to her now. ‘He, Father? Who do you mean?’

  ‘He,’ Father said with a nod towards the back of the chapel. ‘Lord Giles came to me and asked me to see to your welfare.’ She did not look behind to see him. ‘He said he had frightened you badly with his anger and did not wish for you to be fearful of him.’

  ‘He told you that?’ she asked in a whispered voice, still not looking back.

  ‘Yes, my dear. I think he is a good man, lady. I see much of your father at that age in him. I think you could trust him.’

  ‘You do?’ Fayth was shocked by Father Henry’s confidence in this new lord.

  ‘Yes. He may make mistakes in his struggles here, but he is willing to correct them. Not like many Normans, eh? And you are his lawful wife now. Your place is beside him, whether your father chose him or some other did so in his stead.’

  A kind way of saying what had happened, but it was the truth, however phrased. Still her larger question was one she could not speak of with Father Henry. Or could she?

  ‘Father, but do I betray those lost by being his wife?’ She would never speak of the fleshly passion between them to this priest, but she needed his counsel.

  ‘Lady, you spoke the words joining yourself to him in this very chapel. For whatever reasons, you consented to this marriage and are now his wife.’ He pulled her closer and lowered his voice then. ‘And if there is some pleasure gained when carrying out the duties of wife with your lord husband, I am sure the Good Lord does not frown on such. And neither will I,’ he assured her.

  Tears filled her eyes as she heard the words he spoke and she reached up to wipe them away.

  ‘So, child, will you speak to him or should I send him away?’ Father Henry stood straighter then and nodded once more towards the back of the chapel.

  Unless she decided to seek refuge in the chapel for the rest of her days, Fayth knew she must face her husband and come to some understanding if there was to be peace between them. That he would go to the priest and ask him to intercede was remarkable and, again, something she suspected most of the other Norman noblemen would not waste their time doing when force in any measure would accomplish things even faster. It had been reports of just such atrocities that had made her consent to marriage with Edmund.

  ‘I will speak to him, Father,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Good, child. Let me escort you to him.’

  Father Henry held out his arm and Fayth placed her hand there, using a small bit of his strength to steady herself as she walked to Giles.

  ‘My lord,’ Father began, ‘would you like to use the chapel for your discussion? The presence of God can be most helpful in such situations.’ Before Lord Giles could answer, Father Henry walked off and pulled two chairs to the centre of the chapel. Setting them up to face each other, he nodded and smiled.

  ‘My lord,’ he said, pointing to one chair. ‘My lady,’ he said, helping her to sit on the other one.

  Her stomach churned again as she sat and waited for him to speak. But it was Father Henry who interrupted first.

  ‘I could stay with you, if you’d like, my lord?’

  She did smile then, for she knew, as Lord Giles and Father Henry did, that the priest was not asking him, but her, if she wished his presence.

  ‘Lady?’ Giles asked her softly. ‘Would you wish Father Henry to stay?’ He added an inflection to the priest’s name that made it sound more French than English.

  ‘Nay, my lord. I am certain he has other tasks to see to and would not detain him here.’

  Father Henry bowed to them and then made his way to the altar where he spent a few moments in prayer before leaving. When she dared to look at her husband, she saw not the raging man but the one to whom she’d grown accustomed. When Father Henry had left, she heard Giles take a deep breath in and let it out loudly.

  ‘So, lady, would you like to know the truth about the man you have to husband?’

  Chapter Ten

  G iles looked at Fayth who looked certain about very little at this moment and whose face still wore its pale colour and whose eyes still filled with fear. And frightened she should be, for he had nearly lost control and raised his hand to her when she had insulted him in the hall. But for Brice’s timely intervention, Giles suspected he might have taken a step from which he could never return.

  He had never raised a hand to any woman, nor servant, in his life, though he’d been on the receiving end of that many times. He did not shy away from the application of discipline when needed, but it was never done in anger. Now, trying to be calm and rational, he wondered what it was about her that made him lose control—of his anger this day, but of his lust last eventide and the night of their marriage. In the cold, glaring light of day, he made decisions and then, in the dark of night, when faced with the woman in his bed, he lost his mind.

  ‘Brice said that I cannot hold you responsible for an insult if you do not know how you did it,’ he said to begin.

  ‘I offered insult simply by voicing my accusations, my lord. That would be enough for most men to strike out.’ She sighed then and gazed at him with tear-filled eyes. ‘I feel like these last days have been a waking nightmare for me—one in which I’ve lost control and can do nothing right or well,’ she said.

  Did she know she mirrored his own feelings? Although he suspected that his lack of control was in part due to her appeal to him, physically and for all that she offered him.

  ‘I think part of your fear is from not knowing what is happening outside our walls. Change has come to England on swift horses and it is stopping for no one.’

  ‘But you seem to embrace it, my lord,’ she said, leaning forward and meeting his gaze once more.

  ‘Ah, but I stand to benefit more than most from these changes, while you, you and your people, stand to lose the most.’

  ‘So, Father Henry said I should seek your counsel. Will these truths you mentioned aid me in ridding myself of fear or increase it?’

  He stood then and walked a few steps away. ‘I am not certain if you will be comforted by what I have to say or if it will make things worse between us, lady.’

  Giles watched as indecision flitted across her face. Father Henry had spoken of her courage and her strength of spirit, from her mother he’d said, but Giles waited to see it once more.

  She drew in a ragged breath and nodded. ‘Tell me your truths, husband.’

  ‘I am not noble born, lady. Indeed, my birth was baseborn—my father is a vicomte and my mother a weaver serving on one of his father’s estates.’

  ‘So that is why you serve yourself?’ she asked.

  ‘Just so. A bastard makes his own way in the world and even servants look askance at his requests.’

  ‘And why you have no manservant to see to your needs.’

  ‘Also that. A knight needs no one to see to him except to care for his armour and his horses.’

  ‘And why you are not comfortable with everyone knowing your every move and word.’

  ‘I had no idea you were so observant, lady.’ Or had he been so obvious to everyone else? He began to pace around the chairs.

  ‘I had only taken notice last evening, my lord. ’Tis why I got out of bed to serve you your wine.’

  Her face blushed then, in memory no doubt of what serving him wine had led them to. He would not pursue that topic now.

  ‘Other than watching it from my place down the table in my father’s house, I am not experienced in all of the pomp and ceremony expected by a lord. I do not know that I ever will be.’ He smiled at her then. ‘At least the duke had the good sense to make me only a baron. A baron is not high enough to worry over all the pretensions of rank. We are still close enough to the ground to keep our feet there.’

  ‘So, is your duke favouring those of his warriors who faced the same challenges as he?’

  He laughed then, at her scrupulously polite manner of cal
ling the duke a bastard. He was, and everyone knew it, he revelled in it and used it to tweak the noses of those he wished to insult. But few made it away unscathed if they used it to insult him.

  He’d suspected that William had been attempting to raise up a few deserving men who’d begun life as he had, but upon investigating the locations of their awarded demesnes and the proximity to Godwin’s supporters’ holdings, he was beginning to think there were other issues at play.

  ‘I am beginning to wonder if just the opposite might be true, lady. The three of us given lands to hold if we could take them are all bastards of noble men who were trained together with my half brother in my uncle’s holdings in Rennes. I begin to suspect that we are expendable to the duke or his nobles.’

  ‘That is outrageous,’ she said. ‘To use you like that is…’ She did not finish the sentence.

  ‘Extremely practical actually. We three hold no lands and have no powerful allies at home who would be outraged—’ he nodded to her as he used her word ‘—at our deaths in taking or holding these lands. In fact, I believe that all of the nobles holding lands around this and the other grants have legitimate heirs who could take over at any moment for us.’

  Why had they not been aware of this before? Probably because he and Brice had been too busy seeing to Soren’s care and too overwhelmed by the news of the grants to look too closely at the reasons behind it. It had been questionable in that first week if Soren would survive the blow that came after the surrender was called. Even now he remained behind, recuperating and gaining strength while waiting for the duke’s troops to move northward after taking control of the south.

  ‘You mentioned three, my lord? Dare I guess that Brice is included in the duke’s largesse?’ she asked.

  He laughed then. ‘Do you think him expendable after being forced to work with him these last days?’

  She smiled then and Giles saw a glimpse of the beauty she could be when her face lit with pleasure. ‘Though I would never say this before him, and pray that you will not reveal it to him, he seems to want only your good and pursues it without delay. He stands ever at your back. Has it always been thus?’

  ‘Oui. Aye. And Soren as well. I hope you meet him.’ The words were out of his mouth and he shook his head denying them. ‘Nay! He has an appeal to women that none can match. After he claims his land and marries, then I will let him visit here.’

  Now she laughed. ‘He worries you so?’

  ‘Women flock to his side, lady. He never sleeps alone for want of a woman.’

  ‘I shall remember that if he visits, my lord. Mayhap Emma could be prevailed upon to aid him?’

  ‘Ah, you say that as a jest, my lady, but you have no idea of his powers over women. Pray you never witness it!’

  ‘Will you allow him to visit then?’ she asked.

  ‘Pray God, he will join us by winter’s end. He was struck down from behind during the battle, but the last word I received said he does yet survive. The duke has also promised Soren lands in the north.’

  Giles grew quiet, offering up a prayer in this holy building that Soren did survive and was able to take what was offered them.

  Fayth waited for a moment when he grew silent and then asked her questions. ‘Do you have other sisters or brothers, Lord Giles?’

  ‘Nay, I was my mother’s only child.’

  ‘She yet lives?’ she asked.

  ‘Nay,’ he replied with a sad smile. ‘She is dead these last ten years.’

  She knew so little about him and this was her opportunity, for he seemed willing to reveal himself to her now. ‘How many years have you?’

  ‘I have twenty-and-three to your ten-and-eight years.’

  ‘So you know my age, then?’

  ‘But, of course, I wanted to know if my bride was long in the tooth or a young woman who still blushed.’

  ‘Ah, but you failed to ask if she was addle-brained as I have been these last few days,’ she jested. She watched him approach and stop before her, sitting down in the chair once more.

  ‘Addle-brained? I think not. I have only held these lands for a few sennights and can imagine the pain and anger if I faced losing them. You were born to this and now have lost everyone you held dear and gained only a bastard knight as husband when most certainly your father aimed higher than that for you. Surely I can learn to be lordly and allow you that weakness?’

  The sound of Brice shouting outside broke into their silence, alerting them to the demands each one faced. But, Giles hesitated to break their truce and broach the topic he wished to know about most. Still, he must.

  ‘Lady, tell me of Edmund.’ Fear filled her gaze then and he shook his head. ‘I wish only to know of his claim to you.’

  ‘I do not carry his child, my lord.’ The light of recognition lit in her gaze then. ‘That is why you wanted to know, because of your own birth?’

  ‘Yes, lady,’ he said quietly. ‘And I never threatened you or any child you might carry. I simply wanted to know the truth first.’

  ‘There is no child, my lord. He has no claim on me, other than if we married,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘And I suspect that your claim to Taerford is stronger now.’

  ‘He has no claim on your heart, then?’ he asked, taking one of her hands in his. Rubbing it gently with his thumb, he was pleased when she did not pull away from his touch.

  ‘Edmund is more brother to me than if he had been one in reality, my lord. There was no attachment like that between us for we each knew our duty.’

  ‘Your father did not betroth you to him before leaving for the north?’

  ‘Nay. Edmund comes from a good Saxon family…and I bethink that his family arranged a marriage for him.’ She paused and shook her head again. ‘He fostered here, but there were no plans for a betrothal. Until…’ Her words drifted off.

  ‘How did he serve your father, lady?’ He held his breath, for he suspected that it was not Edmund who served the earl, but…

  ‘As I said, my lord, Edmund fostered here.’ She was not going to confirm what he suspected, probably believing that she protected Edmund in some way.

  ‘When did he arrive here in Taerford? How soon after Harold’s fall?’ That could give him an indication of the possibility of the man’s plans and how far he had progressed on them before Giles’s arrival.

  ‘Only days before you, my lord, just after I received your missive. He sent out a call to other allies to come and make a stand with him here in Taerford.’

  Ah, so Giles’s own arrival had put a stop to that gathering, or had it? Reports of bands of rebels came daily from the other Normans in the area. ‘And now? Do you know where Edmund and his men are now, lady?’

  Fayth shook her head. ‘I know not of his condition or whereabouts, my lord. When you had him dragged from the keep, it was the last time I saw him.’ There was doubt in her eyes then, as though she did not believe he was alive.

  ‘He left here alive, lady, at your request, and was taken off my lands.’ Giles stood then, releasing her hand and walking a few steps away. ‘But, if he returns to my lands, I will put him to death.’

  She shivered at his words, knowing that he would indeed follow through on that promise. Pray God Edmund had left and sought kith and kin far away from Taerford. Brice knocked on the chapel door and pulled it open before either of them could respond.

  ‘My lord. My lady,’ he said with a nod of his head. ‘The day is full upon us and there is much to be done. Have you completed your parley or do you need more time to come to arrangements?’

  ‘Brice! Be gone from here. The lady and I are not yet finished,’ Giles called out to his friend.

  ‘The sun has broken through the clouds, my lord. Make haste for there is much to be done.’ The other knight closed the door and called out to someone else in the yard, his voice carrying through the closed door.

  ‘My lord, I should go,’ she said, standing before him.

  ‘Wait but for one more moment, lady.’
r />   Fayth faced him now. There was something more to be said between them. He gambled by taking her hands in his as he spoke.

  ‘On the matter of your father’s death, I know only that I served Duke William from my place in his left flank, where all the Bretons fought under the command of my uncle, Alain Fergant of Brittany. There is no way to know where your father fought or if we engaged each other during the battles that day.’

  He tugged her closer, letting go of her hands to reach up and shift the drooping circlet that held her veil in place. She’d not even realised it had fallen to one side until he righted it.

  ‘If you would hate me, hate me for things I do and not for those I cannot answer for.’

  She did not meet his gaze then; instead she stared at the proof of her father’s death, dangling there around his neck, in view of one and all.

  Her father’s ring.

  ‘But you have his ring, my lord,’ she said, and if her tone was harsh, it was due to the pain that seized her heart whenever she saw it there. ‘He would never willingly give that up while alive.’

  He shook his head. ‘The duke’s man presented this to me when he gave me the grant of lands and the betrothal contract. I did not remove this from your father’s hand.’

  ‘Truly?’

  Such terrible images of this knight killing her father and taking the ring from him had plagued her since she’d seen it on the chain around his neck. Those thoughts had plagued her even more so in the aftermath of the pleasure she had received at his hands.

  He took her hands in his then and lifted them before her. Kissing each one, he met her gaze. ‘But do not be fooled into believing I may not have been the one who cut him down. I know I ended many lives on the battlefield that day. I cannot know who died by my hands.’

  Brice called again outside and she watched a smile fill Giles’s face now. ‘You see how exasperating he can be, my lord?’ she said.

  He yet held her hands as he lowered them, but kept one in his grasp. Bringing it back to his mouth, he turned it and placed his mouth on her wrist. The heat from his mouth made her blood race and she could feel the pulse of it under his lips.