The Conqueror's Lady

by TERRI BRISBIN

  And all the while, she intended to seek out his enemy for proof of his involvement in her father’s death. Even while she planned to aid his enemies if they needed her help. She had not missed the sack of food that Edmund had carried into the weaver’s hut with him—they were pilfering from the keep’s supplies.

  ‘It was sad memories again, my lord,’ she answered honestly.

  ‘Did you see something in the weaver’s cottage that caused it?’

  Fayth tried to keep her breathing slow and steady as she heard his words. Did he know about Edmund, then? Did he know she’d met him there? Had Brice seen more than she thought?

  ‘Brice said he returned there and searched it after placing you in Emma’s care and could find nothing.’

  Pray God, Edmund had escaped first! She slipped her hands under the table and clenched them tightly. She must give him some answer and then she remembered the last task she did and nodded at him.

  ‘I found a parcel of fabrics my father had bought at the summer market. I had not seen them before, but they were stored there and I came upon them. It upset me more than I expected.’

  ‘Would you rather I withhold my permission for you to go there? Would you rather I order Brice to see to things in the village while you oversee the keep only?’

  Yes! Her mind screamed out the word. If she could not go to the village, she would not be forced to make the decisions that seeing Edmund would force on her. Like a tempted soul, she would not sin if she had not opportunity to do it.

  She must be strong. She must find out the truth from Edmund and she must help those of her people that she could and if that meant giving them some spare food to get them through the coming winter, then so be it.

  Even as she opened her mouth to say the words, her heart was not in it. Her heart saw this man trying to see to her comfort. This man being a better one than those higher in rank and wealth. This man who terrified her and frightened her and at the same time made her feel alive and valued.

  ‘I would not shirk my duties because they’re difficult, my lord,’ she answered. ‘We are almost done there and should only need another day.’

  ‘Very well, then,’ he said, rising from his chair, his gaze still intent and yet different.

  ‘Brice and I will be working in the yard when you are ready.’

  ‘I have some numbers to add to the records before I return there,’ she said. ‘It may take me some time.’

  ‘Worry not,’ he said as he gifted her with a smile that spoke of wicked plans. ‘By the time you are ready, he will beg you to remove him from my swordplay.’

  She watched as he strode off, intent on besting his friend in practice. Fayth noticed the fraying edge of his tunic and the torn sleeve hanging down. She had been remiss in seeing to his care and his needs since he’d given her duties back to her. Planning to inspect his clothing chest to see what he needed later, she turned her attention and efforts back to the task at hand—the scrolls.

  An hour or more had passed as she worked on completing the inventory of foodstuffs and supplies within the keep and those she’d found in the village. Other than a few cheers coming from the yard that shook the keep’s wall, she worked in the silence of the hall. Then a commotion in the yard began. Not knowing, she gathered up the records, carefully rolling and binding them before returning them to the steward’s closet. By the time she’d finished, Roger was leading a small group into the hall.

  ‘My lady,’ he said with a bow of his head, ‘these are Lord Huard’s men and Lord Giles asked that you see to them until he can arrive.’

  With a nod, she called to the servants for ale and then watched the four men approach. They did not walk so much as swagger, all the time saying things under their breaths to each other that she was certain she did not wish to hear. One even had the audacity to touch her as he passed her. Soon, they were seated at the table, drinking ale and talking amongst themselves.

  They did not realise or care that she could understand their Norman tongue. She felt her face flaming at their lewd and vicious comments and just when she thought she could not stand another word Giles entered from the yard. Tempted to run to him, she stepped away from the table and allowed him to greet them on his own.

  ‘Sir Eudes, welcome to Taerford Manor,’ he said. ‘How can I be of service to your lord?’ Giles’s greeting seemed appropriate to her, but the men at the table guffawed loudly instead of accepting it.

  ‘Oh, how the lowly have stepped up, eh, Lord Giles?’ Sir Eudes said. ‘Stepped up too high, if you ask me.’ Shocked, she waited for Giles’s reply.

  ‘Ah, but the duke asked neither you nor your lord for their opinions in this, did he, Sir Eudes?’ Giles took a cup of ale and drank it down. ‘So, what is it that you or your lord wants of me?’

  Like a group of young boys who lost their concentration and rolled on the floor like puppies, these men did the same. They seemed to take notice of everything in the hall, or every person, and commented on it to Lord Giles instead of answering his question. Then they all turned and looked at her.

  ‘Looks like you got yourself one of the pretty ones, did you not, Lord Giles? Lord Huard was left with two old Saxon cows with teats down to their waists and one too young to be ridden well yet, if you gather my meaning,’ Sir Eudes leered.

  ‘But how can you tell when they cover themselves like that?’ He pointed at her and she backed away until she reached the wall and could go no farther. ‘If you take them in the dark, you do not need to see them or their faces to plough them deep, do you, my lord?’

  Because she was looking away, she did not see Giles move, but the crash of the knight to the floor and the movements of Roger and the other soldiers into the hall drew her attention. With his knee on Sir Eudes’s chest, Giles held his dagger at the man’s neck.

  ‘That is my wife and you will not speak of her, or like that, in her presence,’ he demanded. At the knight’s hesitation to agree, he pressed harder until he succumbed. Giles pushed him away with his foot and placed his dagger back in his boot. Fayth noticed that many of Giles’s knights and men now surrounded the group at the table.

  ‘As I said, tell me your business here and be gone.’

  Sir Eudes stood then and brushed himself off, holding on to any answers he would give. When Giles took a step towards him, he started to speak.

  ‘Some of the serfs bound to Lord Huard’s lands are escaping and he wants your word that you will not allow them onto your property. He sent me to make certain you understand what’s expected of you, with you being a—’ the knight paused then and Fayth wondered if he would have the nerve to use the word ‘—a bastard knight, and not raised to know how a true lord behaves.’

  Stunned by the audacity of such rudeness, Fayth held her breath and waited for the fighting to begin. Instead silence filled the room as the men waited on Lord Giles’s signal, for surely he could not let the insult go unanswered. He walked alone over to the other knight and stood so close she could almost not hear his words. His knights closed the circle around the others, significantly outnumbering them and making certain they knew it.

  ‘A Breton, did you not mean to say, Sir Eudes? I may not know Norman ways because I am a Breton?’

  Although rough and rude, Sir Eudes did not act the fool and his nod and agreement showed that he knew the odds were against him. The vicious look in his eyes told her he would not forget this insult by someone he considered below him in rank and privilege.

  ‘A Breton is what I meant,’ he mumbled.

  ‘What you meant…?’ Lord Giles pressed the point.

  ‘What I meant, my lord,’ the knight spat out more loudly.

  Lord Giles stepped away then and nodded. ‘Give Lord Huard my regards and tell him I understand my obligations to my Norman neighbours. Roger, Lucien, escort these men to the edge of my lands so that they do not lose their way.’

  His commanders and six other knights led the others away. Giles, Brice and a few others stood together whispering
and arguing furiously, but every few moments another expletive or curse rang out from them. Clearly these two groups of men hated each other and their disputes went back to their homelands. There was more at play than a simple message from one lord to his neighbour.

  Unwilling to disturb them, but unable to move unless she did so, Fayth waited until they remembered her presence, trying to pick up fragments of their conversations. It took but a minute or so before Giles glanced over at her and issued some orders to his men regarding her. He left them and came to her side.

  ‘I cannot allow you to visit the village today, lady. I would take no chances with your safety or give them the opportunity for mischief of any kind against me or my people.’

  ‘I understand that his insult against me was against your honour, my lord, but I thank you for defending my person to him.’

  ‘You are my wife, lady,’ he said, lifting her hand to his mouth and kissing it. ‘I would defend your honour to any man.’

  The devil tempted her to her next words, and she could not resist asking it. ‘Am I fortunate that Sir Eudes did not arrive a few days ago when you yet believed I’d given mine away?’ Instead of the anger she expected, a chagrined expression filled his face and he nodded to her.

  ‘Aye, you are correct and I fear that I demanded your trust in me without giving mine in your word, Fayth,’ he said in a low, private tone to her. ‘I only ask that we will speak on that matter in private before we speak of it in public,’ he said. ‘I would rather have any wifely reprimands delivered away from the eyes of my knights who would taunt me later on my numerous faults if I give you leave to do so before them.

  ‘For now, though, my lady, I will assign Emma and the girl to you to assist you in any work you have here in the keep.’

  She nodded in acceptance, for he’d surprised her beyond words once more and Fayth waited for him and the other knights to leave. Just before he left with them, he returned to her.

  ‘You are still very pale, whether from the rude words you suffered or from your illness matters not to me. If you feel the need to rest or to walk outside in the air, please do so and do not overwork yourself until you have regained your strength.’

  He’d saved her from betraying him this day and she accepted it. When Emma and Ardith arrived, she decided to see to his clothing. It took the better part of the afternoon to sort through his meagre selection of tunics, shirts, stockings and breeches and to alter some of her father’s to fit him more closely.

  The knights and others in the hall were quiet through their evening meal and there was none of the usual frivolity amongst them as they ate. Mayhap the work was wearing them down, mayhap it was something else? Whatever the reason, she found herself in her chambers along with her husband earlier than was their usual custom.

  Chapter Fifteen

  G iles carried a cup with him when he entered and handed it to Fayth as her maid had directed him to do. When the old woman got that look in her eyes, he thought it best to do as she ordered. He smiled as he remembered that it had ever been so between them since his very first day here in Taerford.

  ‘A posset to help you rest. Emma said to drink it as you ready yourself for sleep and not before,’ he repeated the instructions to her. Sniffing, he grimaced from the odour of it. ‘It smells…’ He could not find the words to lie about it. ‘It smells like pitch and mint.’

  Handing it to her, he walked away, shaking his head over how anything smelling like that could be worth the taste endured in swallowing it.

  Fayth put down her mending and took the cup, smelling it and nodding in agreement. ‘Would you rather I slept in the other chamber this night, my—’ she paused as his gaze narrowed in warning ‘—Giles?’

  ‘Why would you do that?’ he asked, completely confused by her question.

  ‘I have heard that men do not wish to share a bed with a woman who…’ She could not say whatever words she meant to say.

  ‘Who drinks a putrid brew that makes her breath stink?’ he finished. It brought a smile to her face and that pleased him somehow.

  ‘Women who suffer their monthly courses, Giles,’ she finally admitted.

  ‘Ah, just so. Are they contagious in some way, then?’

  ‘Nay,’ she said, her smile turning into a laugh. ‘You cannot catch them.’

  ‘Then I see no reason to sleep elsewhere this night.’

  He watched her as she pushed the needle through the material she sewed. The pile next to her held five or six garments, all of which looked very familiar to him. She was mending his clothes.

  ‘Are you going to sleep in your clothing, Fayth?’

  His question clearly startled her at first, then she shook her head. ‘Nay. I was but waiting to learn where I would sleep before removing any of it.’

  Giles took the chance and walked over to her. ‘May I?’ he asked as he touched her veil, a nuisance he wished removed as soon as possible.

  At her nod, he lifted the circlet holding the veil in place and then unwound the length of it from around her neck and let her braided hair tumble free. He took the end of the braid, untied the leather strip and loosened the tightly woven braid until it curled around her shoulders and face.

  ‘Does that not become uncomfortable? I would think it would retain heat and bring on a sweating.’

  ‘Fashion has little to do with making sense, Giles.’

  Thinking on some of the clothing and accoutrements he’d seen at William’s court and other noble houses in Normandy and Brittany, he did not doubt it. Before he thought on it, he reached over and took the comb from the table and began running it through her hair. His hands itched to touch it so, and he finally had the opportunity. She sat beneath his hands, eyes closed, her breathing low and even, and he wondered if she’d fallen asleep.

  ‘You are better than Emma at this,’ she said. ‘She pulls too much when there are knots or snags.’

  They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes and he decided to broach another subject with her. He’d brought his sharpening stone and sword with him and so he placed the comb down and took the sword and the stone and sat in the corner, leaning against the wall.

  ‘I had thought to knock this wall down and open up both chambers to our use. What think you?’ he asked while sliding the stone along one edge of the blade.

  ‘To what use would you put it?’ she asked, standing then and gazing around the chamber as though judging it.

  ‘Nothing more than to give us more room in our chambers. It becomes crowded with only two of us in it and I would like my armour here as well. I thought a dressing area in one corner, with our trunks. A small sitting area here and the bed just there.’ He pointed to the places he considered best and she turned to them as though imagining how it would look.

  Her hair floated around her as she did, the length of it nearly reaching the floor as she moved to and fro. Giles put the sword on his lap and the stone next to him and watched her. His hands itched to wrap themselves in it, and he would once he claimed her as wife. For now, he took a deep breath and released it and focused back on his true task.

  ‘I think it is a waste to do more than that here, lady. But I have plans to build a new keep on a hill near the fork in the river.’

  ‘I confess that I’ve been hearing bits of this from your men. Why did you choose there?’ she asked. He stood before answering her.

  ‘That hill is suitable for the Norman style of motte-and-bailey tower keep. Using the hill, I avoid the work of building the motte first. Have you climbed the hill of which I speak?’ She nodded. ‘The view of the surrounding lands is clear and you can see for miles. A much better defensive position than this one.’

  ‘And to what use will this keep be put?’

  ‘Does it upset you to know you will move from the place where you were born?’

  ‘’Tis a woman’s lot in life to leave her parents and cleave to her husband, so it comes as no surprise to me. But do you plan to level this one?’

 
‘There is much I have not decided yet. Much depends on how quickly the trouble subsides and how we come through this winter. And,’ he said, reaching over and handing her the cup, ‘how many coins I have left after we buy what we must for the winter.’ He urged her, ‘Drink this. Seek your rest.’

  When his wife did not take it, he placed it in her hands and backed away. ‘I do not want to face Emma’s wrath for not having followed her instructions. If you have any pity on me, you will do as she said.’

  The smell of the brew was so strong he could almost taste it as she drank it down. He shuddered as he watched and waited until she’d finished to take the cup. Without asking her permission, he lifted the tunic over her head and then turned her to untie the laces at her back.

  Somehow this comfortable banter and time of ease between them felt right. He’d never spent much time in a lady’s bedchambers. Those ladies who would allow him entrance wanted him done and gone quickly. And the women who were like him, of the lower ranks or amongst the servants of the households he’d served, usually did not have a bedchamber to use.

  Against a wall, under a wagon, in the stables or barn, even in the kitchen and laundry room of one lord’s house, wherever there was a moment of privacy and a willing woman, he’d used it to seek pleasure. Never had he allowed himself to dream of a time when he would share a chamber with a lady as his wife.

  She slipped the dress off her shoulders and stepped from it, leaving only her shift on. Before she could climb into bed, he took her in his arms and kissed her as he’d wanted to do since he arrived home last night.

  Home?

  The thought made him smile, but when his lips touched hers all thoughts of laughter fled his mind, replaced with the desire for her that always simmered within him, just below the surface of his control.

  Giles ran his fingers up into her hair, holding her close that way and kissed her mouth over and over. Then he eased back and released her. ‘I would hold you,’ he whispered.