‘Serious charges,’ Edouard murmured, leaning closer, ‘of plotting to over throw the Duke.’
‘They were never proven! Grandfather was falsely charged, and you know it.’ Aude lifted her chin. ‘Just as Hugh is being falsely charged.’
‘In a sense it does not matter whether we believe Hugh to be guilty or not, we cannot afford to recognise or be associated with him. You are not to speak to him. Ever.’
‘Hugh is our friend!’
‘Not any more,’ Edouard muttered under his breath, before raising his voice loudly enough to be heard on the ship. ‘But should Hugh Duclair be re in stated that would, of course, be a different matter. Then we might acknowledge him.’
‘Why you…you…’ Words failed her. Her eyes were drawn back to that strong, lithe torso. Why had it only just dawned on her that watching the play of a man’s muscles could be so stimulating? She was flushing all over, hot where moments ago she had been cold. This was not right, she could not bear it. Not Hugh, merciful Lord, not Hugh.
It was only when Aude felt her brother’s hand catch hers that she realised she had stepped towards Hugh. Blindly, instinctively, wanting…what? To give comfort? To take it? Her brother’s revelations had thoroughly upset her.
‘Aude, let the man continue with his preparations,’ Edouard’s voice came at her, seemingly from afar. ‘He is cutting it fine as it is. He only has a day to get out of the Duchy.’
‘What will happen if he is delayed?’
‘His life will be forfeit.’
Aude’s heart beat hard as Hugh came down the gangplank with another packing case. How galling to have to leave Normandy under such a cloud, how ghastly to have lifelong friends ignore you…
Her frown deepened. That packing case on Hugh’s shoulder, surely it was one of hers? Biting her lip, hobbled by Edouard’s command not to acknowledge him, Aude watched as Hugh set the box down—yes, it was definitely hers—next to a couple of travel ling chests. Travelling chests which Aude also recognised, since they too belonged to her. But they should all be on that barge…
Eyes narrowing, Edouard’s strictures for got ten, Aude stepped forward to block Hugh’s path. His sun-kissed hair was ruffled and, thanks to his exertions, a fine sheen of sweat gleamed on his splendid chest. Heavens. Those childish fantasies she had once built up around him; those dreams she had had only last year of kissing him, of cuddling him—well, she couldn’t possibly apply them to the man standing before her today, she wouldn’t dare. Spring fever, it had been spring fever. Breath constricted, Aude found herself staring into stormy eyes that were mid-way between blue and grey. Dark lashes, such long, dark lashes… Hugh’s eyes had always been breath taking. To look at them was to ache with longing. ‘Excuse me, ma dame.’
His voice was curt. Rude. It hit her like a slap in the face. His voice was a stranger’s voice, and it reminded her that in the past Hugh had irritated her as often as not. She stiffened. Hugh must recognise her; she had known him, despite only seeing him a couple of times in recent years.
A chilly ball formed in her stomach. Hugh and Edouard might once have been close as peas in a pod, but times had changed. Today Edouard was refusing to acknowledge Hugh—or was he…?
There! Hugh and her brother ex changed the briefest of glances; indeed, Aude was almost certain she saw Hugh gave Edouard the slightest of nods. She frowned. Maybe it was only in public that Edouard was not acknowledging Hugh. What happened in private?
She sighed. Whatever was going on, it seemed she must follow her brother’s lead. Count Hugh de Freyncourt, or rather, the former Count Hugh de Freyncourt was in enough trouble, there was no point drawing attention to him. She would act as though she took him for a common sailor.
‘That packing case,’ Aude pointed, her tone was haughty. ‘And those travel ling chests—why have you removed them from the ship?’
‘They were in the way.’
‘You can’t do that!’
The wide shoulders lifted. ‘I just have. Excuse me, ma dame.’
Aude inserted herself between Hugh and the plank. This was not quite the way she had envisioned informing her brother she had brought her plans forward, but that could no longer be helped. ‘Those are my belongings you are throwing about,’ she said, grandly. ‘And since I have paid for my party’s passage to Honfleur, I demand to know why you have seen fit to unload them.’
At her side, Edouard caught his breath, but Aude ignored him as she was focused on Hugh.
Hugh’s jaw clenched. A large hand was shoved through the sun-bleached hair; stormy eyes pierced her to the quick. A strange aware ness made itself felt in the region of Aude’s belly, like a slow tightening. It was not un pleas ant. Sweet Mother, one thing was in escapable. Hugh was disconcertingly well favoured, even when he was scowling.
‘As I told you, ma dame, they were in the way.’ He strode past her and on to the gangplank, only to return to the jetty with yet another of her travel ling chests.
Aude turned to her brother, somewhat surprised she could actually think with Hugh parading that fine body before the entire port. ‘Edouard, your support here would be most welcome.’
Edouard simply folded his arms and looked blandly at her. Truth to tell, he looked more amused than angry to have had her secret out of her. And, yes, he was clearly relieved she had not acknowledged Hugh by name.
‘My support? I think not. When did you plan to leave?’
‘This afternoon.’ She gestured at Hugh. ‘Please, Edouard.’
He shook his head. ‘You intended to sneak off to Honfleur without so much as a word to me, and you expect me to back you up? No, Aude, I would have your full confidence before I give you support of any kind.’
‘I was going to tell you!’
‘Before or after your inter view with the Abbot?’
‘Before! I was about to tell you when Hu…that clod starting tossing my belongings all over the quayside.’
While Aude and her brother had been talking, Hugh Duclair reappeared. With studied care he put the last of Aude’s travel ling chests down next to the others. He was about to step back on to the gangplank, but this time she stopped him by placing her hand in the centre of his chest. He felt hot and he was muttering under his breath, some thing which sounded like, ‘If you want some thing done, some times you must do it yourself.’
She caught a faint whiff of male sweat, fresh male sweat. Oddly, it was not displeasing. Hugh might have adopted the manners of an angry barbarian but he was heart-stoppingly attractive. Even at Beaumont, tales of his wild ways with women had reached her. Aude had heard that even the most chaste of women found him irresistible—today she could believe them all.
He was affecting not to have the slightest idea of her identity or status. It hurt to see those breath taking eyes look down at her with undisguised irritation. In the past, behind the teasing, she had sensed warmth and affection, but she could sense none now. Had the events of the last year changed him so much?
‘I must speak to the ship’s captain,’ she said, clearly and slowly.
Strong fingers peeled her hand from his chest. The curl of his lips was so arrogant it was nothing less than an insult. Regret pierced her. Had Hugh taken against them because they were not openly acknowledging him?
‘The ship’s captain,’ Hugh said, and there—again—she thought he ex changed the briefest of glances with Edouard, ‘is at the Abbey negotiating a price for shipping out a consignment of wine. When he returns, I will give him a message, if it pleases you.’
Behind her, Edouard let out a snort.
Aude whirled on him, anger rising. ‘Really, Edouard, you might help, rather than standing there sniggering.’
‘No, no.’ Edouard’s eyes were laughing. ‘This is far too entertaining. To see my sister, Aude de Crèvecoeur, brawling with Co…a common sailor…you do not need my help.’
Aude fixed Hugh with her eyes, wishing with all her might that he could see into her heart, that he could under stand she had
no wish to ignore him. ‘I have booked passage to Honfleur. You will be so kind as to return my things to the ship.’
‘Not a chance. This vessel is fully laden.’
‘It wasn’t earlier.’
‘It is now.’ Hugh made no attempt to hide his annoyance. ‘You will have to find another, ma dame; this is not the only river barge going as far as Honfleur.’ He pointed upriver. ‘Try that one.’
He was indicating the furthest jetty, but from her stand point Aude could only see a rowboat stranded on the mud by the falling tide.
‘That is far too small, I need a proper river barge.’
‘There’s a barge there, take my word for it. It is tucked out of sight behind the jetty, and it sails tomorrow at high water.’
Take his word for it? Aude set her jaw. ‘But I paid passage on this one. Leaving today.’
Heaving a sigh that unfortunately drew Aude’s eyes to his magnificent chest, Hugh dug into the purse at his belt. ‘How much?’
His arrogance took her breath away. It was not that she was standing in such close proximity to his half-naked body. No, no, what was she thinking? Marshalling her wits with some difficulty, Aude scowled at Edouard. ‘Surely he cannot get away with it?’
‘Clearly he is a man of some influence with the captain,’ Edouard muttered dryly.
Hugh made an impatient movement. His eyes were bleak. ‘How much did you pay? Come on, woman, I am not at leisure here.’ He thrust some silver at her, and before Aude had time to think up a suitable reply, was back on the barge ordering the crew about as though he were the Duke himself.
Aude blinked at the silver in her hand. ‘Why, the insolent b—’
‘Careful, chérie,’ Edouard murmured in her ear. ‘That is not a word one would expect Lady Aude de Crèvecoeur to be casting about the docks.’
‘As if I cared for that.’ Foot tapping, Aude frowned at the trunks and travel ling chests Hugh had stacked on the jetty. Inside, her heart was breaking—for Hugh, for the loss of her friend ship with him—but that did not prevent her from feeling angry at what he had done. ‘He had no right to remove my things.’
‘Well, I for one am grateful, as it gives me a chance to make you change your mind.’
‘That will not happen. Count Richard gave me the Alfold estate and I need to see it for myself. Apparently it is much run down. I would like to set it to rights.’
‘That might not be as easy as you imagine. Think, Aude. England remains unsettled. Since Duke William took the crown, it has been a country in ferment. Remember what Count Richard told us, what happened up in the north—’
‘Alfold is in the south.’
‘The entire realm is unsettled,’ Edouard pressed on, wrapping an arm about her and giving her a conciliatory hug. ‘And irritating though you are at times, I do not want to lose you.’
‘Edouard, you are wasting words, I will not change my mind.’ She threw a dark glance towards her brother’s erstwhile friend, powerless to prevent herself from running her gaze one last time over that magnificent physique. Holy Mother help her. ‘He had no right.’
‘There is no arguing with a desperate man.’ Edouard took her by the elbow and guided her from the dockside towards the market square. ‘Besides, you really do not want to become entangled with Hugh Duclair. Remember, I do not want you speaking to him.’ His expression lightened. ‘Looks the part though, doesn’t he? Exactly like a river pirate.’
‘A river pirate? You think so?’ Aude hung back. What with that stunning masculinity, those angry, flashing eyes—the word Lucifer sprang to mind. ‘Edouard, my things! We can’t abandon them on the dock…’
Edouard gestured for his squire. ‘Raoul, be so good as to have my lady’s travel ling chests returned to the Abbey lodge.’
‘Yes, my lord.’
As Raoul called over some porters, Aude allowed her brother to place her fingers back on his arm.
‘Now, Aude, I would like you to complete that confession of yours. You were about to tell me, I think, that you had booked passage to Honfleur.’
Edouard’s voice was stern, but amusement lit his eyes, it was lingering in the corners of his mouth. Aude hung her head. She did not feel particularly contrite, not when her brother seemed intent on making decisions on her behalf, decisions that were blatantly wrong, but perhaps a small show of meekness might help.
‘I am sorry to spoil your plans, Edouard, but I really have no wish to become a nun. I did try to tell you back at Crèvecoeur.’ They began walking towards the Abbey gates. ‘Believe me, the life of a nun does not appeal.’
Edouard gave her a searching look and grunted. ‘I do realise that, even though after Martin’s death I clearly recall you saying some thing about retiring from the world.’
Crossing the thorough fare, they nodded a greeting to the abbot’s sentries at the gate house and passed under the arch and into the Abbey court yard. The church of Our Lady stood before them with its two massive towers. The façade was bright with fresh paint—the reds and blues glowed like jewels.
Aude grimaced. ‘Yes, I remember. A person says many things in the first throes of grief that later they come to see are untrue.’
‘I can under stand that, you loved Martin a great deal. Relax, Aude, I can’t see you in a convent myself, that was not my main reason for arranging the inter view. I was hoping that you might be ready to consider marriage.’
‘Marriage? No!’ Suppressing a shudder, she moderated her tone. ‘One day perhaps.’ Immediately her unruly mind presented her with a disturbing image of a half-naked deck-hand. Swallowing hard, Aude thrust it to the back of her mind.
‘Aude, it was not easy arranging this appointment with the Abbot, I had to call in a few favours to get it. I insist you speak to him.’
She stiffened her spine. ‘Very well. Since you wish it, I shall meet with the Abbot. But I want to make it quite clear, I will not be forced into making vows of any kind.’
Chapter Two
Downstream at Château de Tancarville, a lookout high in the clifftop tower was idly staring at an eagle as it glided over the river below.
He yawned. Despite the wind that whistled round the heights summer and winter alike, the man’s helmet was hot and tight, and he couldn’t wait to remove it. But he was proud of his position as castle guard, so he stood firm. Duke William’s own tutor had made this castle what it was today, a defensive watch tower with clear views of Normandy for miles around.
On one side you could see the Seine gleaming like a silver snake as it wound out to the sea, and in the other direction the port of Quillebeuf. Generations ago, Viking drag on ships had hidden out between raids there, as they sacked and pillaged their way inland. Jumièges, Rouen, Paris….
Nothing half so exciting had happened that morning and the sentry was bored, glad his stint was almost over.
A bell sounded the noon hour.
A rowboat was drifting at the midpoint. The rower had shipped oars and his head was turned in the direction of a mysterious wave which had formed right across the water. The lookout could not see the rower’s expression, but his stomach gave a sick lurch. He had never seen a wave like that, not on a river. It stretched from one bank to the other and it was powering upstream towards Quillebeuf and the rowboat like a serpent from hell.
A wave? Coming upstream?
‘Here, Gérard, is that a tidal bore?’
‘Can’t be, Pascal. Wrong time of year.’
‘Well, I might have had too much Rhenish last night, but that looks like a tidal bore to me. Come on, man, quick!’ he said, pointing.
Gérard looked and went grey. He swore and hastily crossing himself, leaned out over the parapet. ‘Tidal bore!’ He grabbed the rope of the alarm bell. ‘Tidal bore! La barre!’
‘That rowboat,’ Pascal added, shaking his head in horrified fascination. ‘Will it make it?’
It looked unlikely. Forced upstream by the incoming tide, the wave was gathering height as well as pace. It whipped along, b
earing down on the boat faster than a man could run. Foam sprayed out along the riverbanks.
The noon bell had stopped ringing. Gérard’s alarm bell died away. Down by the river, the screaming began.
It seemed there was no escaping the inter view with Abbot Bertram. Aude was determined it would not take long.
Shortly after noon, she and Edouard went to meet the Abbot in the old church, St Peter’s. They stood in the shady cool of a side passage as the chanting faded, and watched the monks file out. The rich scent of incense lingered in the air. Shafts of sunlight were falling in perfect lines through the narrow windows, illuminating here a carved bird, there an angel in full flight.
Abbot Bertram was sitting on a stone wall-bench, a compact, stern-faced man with little hair; whether this was because of his tonsure or because he was bald it was impossible to say. His face was elongated; he had strong features and startling black eyebrows that gave him a somewhat surprised air. Gems glittered in the polished gold cross that hung at his breast.
‘Lord Edouard, it is good to see you.’
‘Thank you, Lord Abbot. I trust you are in good health?’
‘Never better. Please sit.’ The Abbot waved Aude and Edouard to cushions on the bench. The windows above their heads were unglazed, but since it was the height of summer, the breeze playing over their heads was a blessing rather than a curse.
‘So, Lord Edouard, this is the sister I have heard so much about.’
‘Yes, my lord, this is Lady Aude de Crèvecoeur.’
‘My lady.’
‘Abbot Bertram.’
‘Lord Edouard, when your letter first arrived, I assumed you to mean that your sister had a vocation and that you wished me to find a suitable house in which she might live out her life.’
‘Lord Abbot,’ Edouard said, ‘I apologise if you were put to any trouble.’
‘My son, it is never a trouble to find places for any of our sisters who have a true vocation. And it is never wrong to test that vocation before binding vows are made. Such vows are sacred; once made they are irrevocable. It would be a grievous sin for someone to make them only to discover later that they have changed their mind and that they no longer wish to offer their life to God.’
Wessex Weddings 05 - Her Banished Lord Page 2