Wessex Weddings 05 - Her Banished Lord

by Carol Townend

  ‘How could it be?’ Aude said. Taking Louise firmly by the hand, she turned away. ‘Good evening, Father.’

  ‘Good evening, ladies.’

  Louise pulled back when they reached the hall and looked towards Crabbe Wood. The fringes of the forest were blurred by a fog of dust. ‘It will not be Hugh,’ she said. ‘It will not.’

  Aude had to swallow before she found her voice. ‘Of course not.’ Even to her own ears, her reply was un convincing.

  Sir Ralph rounded the corner from the direction of the cook house. ‘Good evening, my lady.’

  ‘Good evening. Sir Ralph?’

  ‘My lady?’

  ‘Father Ambrose mentioned some thing called the giant’s road—what did he mean?’

  ‘That’s the peasant’s name for the old Roman road.’

  ‘Yes, that must be it.’ Aude hovered on the thresh old. ‘Is it used nowadays?’

  ‘Yes, my lady.’

  ‘Where does it go?’

  ‘To the east it runs towards Winchester.’

  ‘And the other direction?’

  ‘It runs just below the ridge and leads eventually to the Narrow Sea.’

  ‘Thank you, Sir Ralph, that is all.’

  The sun dipped below the horizon and as though it had been a signal, the rain began, making small puffs of dust in the path. Some of the villagers scurried for shelter; others, determined to finish that last stand of corn, pulled scraps of sacking over their heads and renewed their grip on their scythes. In the distance, there was a faint rumble of thunder.

  Sir Ralph shut the door with a bang and the field-strips, the ridge and the dust-fogged margins of Crabbe Wood were lost to sight.

  Aude ushered Louise to the fire. It was not cold, but Louise’s pallor concerned her.

  ‘Louise, I shall have Edwige warm you a cup of milk.’

  Louise sent her an intent look. ‘He will be all right, won’t he?’

  Giving Louise’s hand a final squeeze, hoping that she looked more certain than she felt, Aude nodded and beckoned for her maid.

  The thunder did not begin in earnest until later, when the evening meal was over and the boards were being put up for the night.

  A dazzling white flash revealed a split in the wall in front of Aude. The flash should have warned her, but the following crash had her leaping out of her skin. She was edgy tonight and no wonder, Louise was not the only one to be worrying about Hugh.

  ‘I can see myself to bed, thank you,’ Aude said, dismissing Edwige with a smile. She looked significantly at Hugh’s sister who was drifting about like a lost soul at the other end of the hall. ‘Keep an eye on Louise, would you? She is in need of your friend ship tonight.’

  ‘Yes, my lady.’

  Taking up a lantern, Aude retired to the box-bed and drew the bed-curtains. She had loosed her hair and was sitting cross-legged on the mattress reaching for her comb, when she heard a sharp whisper. ‘Aude, are you there? Can you hear me?’

  Aude thrust aside the bed-hanging. There was no one there. People were organising their pallets beyond the fire, jostling for the best spaces. But that whisper had been so near…

  The curtain dropped back into place; the rain pattered onto the thatch.

  ‘Aude!’

  The voice was urgent and closer than before. Rather mysteriously, it appeared to be coming from the other side of the wall, from outside. Her heart thumped, the thunder rolled. Could someone be standing under the eaves, trying to catch her attention?

  Just to make sure, she lifted the curtain a second time, but no one was anywhere near the box-bed.

  Outside, some thing thumped against the wall. The tapestry wall-hanging quivered, the embroidered horses trembled.

  ‘Aude!’

  She dropped the comb. Hugh! He sounded des per ate. Heart in her mouth, she made certain the bed-curtain was firmly closed and scram bled across the mattress to the outside wall. Scooping the wall-hanging to one side, she grabbed the lantern, angling it so the light fell on the limewash. There was a small crack running across it—a wall plank must have shrunk in the heat of the summer, the plaster was working loose.

  Hugh was outside, she would stake her life on it.

  Chapter Eight

  Hugh was outside! In her mind’s eye, Aude could picture him in the thick shadows under the eaves.

  She put her mouth to the break in the limewash. ‘Hold on,’ she hissed. ‘I’m coming.’

  Twisting her hair into a knot at the base of her neck, Aude snatched up her cloak and boots. Moments later she was hurrying through the hall.

  Dynne was acting as guard tonight, he was already at the bench by the door, hugging a clay goblet to his chest. He nodded at Aude as she passed. Closing the lantern shutter so that the wind would not extinguish the flame, she reached for the latch. The latrines were in a small hut around the back of the hall; no one would give it a moment’s thought if she headed outside. I must not be long, Dynne will notice if I don’t return soon.

  Several drops of warm rain landed on her face. Drawing her hood up, she crept along the walls and went straight to the latrine where she made a show of banging the door, in case Dynne should be listening out for her. Her light flickered. She held the lantern steady, protecting the flame as best she could. Its light was weak, but necessary. She didn’t want to fall flat on her face in mud.

  The stars were lost behind cloud. She was rounding the corner by the gable end when a shadowy figure separated itself from the night.

  ‘Hugh?’

  ‘Aude, thank God!’ He caught her hands and drew her into deep darkness. Taking the lantern, he opened the shutter and blew out the flame.

  ‘I need that!’

  ‘Sorry, Brat, but we can’t be too careful.’

  Stretching up, she found his face and slid her arm about his neck to give him a hug. ‘Don’t call me Brat! Hugh, I heard dogs earlier, the priest said it was a manhunt. Was that you?’

  Hugh’s arms had gone round her waist. He returned her hug. He felt warm and solid—if a little rain dampened. It hit her that if anything happened to him, she would be hurt beyond bearing. She tipped her head back. Hugh’s face was taking shape as a pale blur in front of her.

  ‘Yes, that was us.’

  ‘What happened?’

  Easing back, Hugh took her hands. A flash of lightning lit his handsome features. ‘Gil is hurt. I am sorry to bring trouble to your door, but he needs your help.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Hugh, where else should you come? How badly is he hurt?’

  Thunder rumbled, the storm was moving away. Hugh shifted, shaking his head. ‘I do not know precisely, there was an…incident in Winchester yesterday afternoon. Gil took a knife wound in the leg before we got away. He said it was nothing, wouldn’t let me look at it, the fool.’

  ‘He was afraid you might leave him behind.’

  Hugh swore. ‘You are probably right, he is loyal to the point of stupidity. But hang it, Aude, Gil cannot do anyone any good if he is dead, even he must realise that.’ He gave a deep sigh. ‘I couldn’t see any sign of bleeding, so I assumed he was fine, that it was indeed a scratch, but…’

  ‘Did someone recognise you?’

  ‘We were careful, but they may have done. I had been making enquiries in a tavern—it is possible I was overheard. We were leaving and had reached the city gates. No sooner were we through when someone bawled out that they had been robbed and before you could blink half the Winchester garrison was on our tail.’

  Aude gripped the front of his tunic. ‘The manhunt—yes, I was afraid it might be you.’ Briefly she rested her head against his chest, for a moment reluctant to move away.

  He stroked her hair and said, ‘We got clear of them, but Gil’s wound… By the time we stopped he had lost much blood.’

  She looked up. His hand on her hair was in some in de finable way unsettling, but this was not the time to dwell on that. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘In the forest that starts just beyond t
he village.’

  ‘Crabbe Wood?’

  ‘That’s it. The place is a network of track ways; we found a ruined building about a mile in, he’s there.’

  ‘Hugh, I must go back inside, Dynne saw me leave. If I don’t reappear he will send someone to look for me. But I will help you. Stay here and await my signal.’

  Taking his hand, Aude placed it against the wall. ‘As you have already realised, the box-bed is on the other side of this wall, about here. I shall collect medicines and bandages—’

  ‘I’d like to raid your cook house.’

  ‘Help yourself. And see what you can do to prise one or two of these boards loose.’

  There was a moment’s quiet while Hugh felt along the wooden planking.

  ‘The boards are fairly wide,’ he said thoughtfully.

  ‘Exactly. And more than one of them is in need of repair, so your part should be easy.’ She gave a soft laugh and stooped for the lantern. ‘Just make sure that the planks you loosen make a space large enough for me to squeeze out.’

  Back in the hall, Aude moved quickly and quietly, taking several things from the linen press as she passed it. If anyone questioned her, and she did not think it likely, she would embarrass them into silence by muttering about her courses and the need for fresh linen cloths. It was an easy matter to take a pouch of herbs and medicaments out of the press and stuff a few bandages into it.

  She turned back to the general sleeping area, but the curtains were down for the night and Edwige and her husband had already retired. Aude hesitated, uncertain which was their curtain. ‘Edwige?’

  A curtain shifted and Edwige looked out, sleepy-eyed. ‘Here, my lady.’

  Aude went over and leaned close. ‘It is my woman’s time,’ she murmured, praying that Edwige would forget it was two weeks early.

  Immediately, Edwige flung back her blanket. ‘But, my lady, I thought—’

  ‘I am all right, Edwige, really.’ She pressed her back onto the pallet. ‘There is no need for you to disturb yourself. I am only telling you now, lest I shall be late rising in the morning.’

  Edwige looked thoroughly confused. She knew Aude too well, it was rare for her to rise late. ‘My lady?’

  ‘If I am, please let me sleep. I…I have had some difficulty in that regard since arriving in England, it must be the unfamiliar climate.’

  Edwige’s mouth opened and again Aude leaned close. It was easy enough to feign embarrassment to be discussing such matters in a place where anyone might hear them. ‘If you could put it about that Lady Aude finds her courses some thing of a trial, I would be grateful. Say that she often takes to her bed for a few hours at such times, no one will know that I rarely have such trouble.’

  ‘I am not to wake you, my lady?’ Edwige whispered.

  Aude shook her head. ‘No, and forget about me breaking my fast. There won’t be any need to bring me anything. I will come out when I—’

  ‘When you are feeling more yourself,’ Edwige said.

  ‘Just so.’

  Edwige gave her an intent look. ‘Will you not tell me what is wrong?’

  Aude swallowed. ‘Do as I ask, Edwige, and all will be well.’

  ‘Yes, my lady.’

  Aude returned to the box-bed, clutching the pouch. Once she was sitting cross-legged on the blankets, she drew the bed-curtain tightly shut. In the dim light of the lantern she took stock of what she had gathered and waited for a sign that Hugh was ready to break into her bed.

  She did not have to wait long.

  A soft clunk had her lifting the tapestry on the end wall and hooking it out of the way. A loud scratching was immediately followed by the creak and groan of straining wood. She shot a guilty glance over her shoulder at the main body of the hall, praying no one could hear. Thunder, thank goodness. It was moving steadily off, but it made enough noise to mask what Hugh was doing. ‘Aude?’ Hugh hissed through the crack. ‘Are you there?’

  Softly, she rapped on the wall. ‘Yes!’

  ‘Shift aside!’

  She edged back until the bed-curtain brushed the hood of her cloak—any further and she would fall out into the hall. She gripped the lantern. The blade of a knife winked silver, lumps of plaster and daub plopped on to the bedding. Sensing that this was the moment, she coughed to cover the noise; even as she did so, there was a creak and another flash of the knife. With a crack more plaster broke away.

  Dust showered down. The night air rushed in. Aude coughed as though her life depended on it and a board was wrenched aside, shrieking in protest.

  Hugh’s face appeared. Pushing his shoulders through the gap, his lips curved.

  ‘What’s the matter? Hugh?’

  His grin deepened and a wicked light gleamed in his eyes. He shouldered his way through the opening and crawled beside her on to the mattress.

  ‘Hugh, what are you doing?’ She thumped her fist on his chest, scandalised. She knew Hugh liked baiting her, but this was ridiculous. ‘This is my bed! Get off!’

  A large hand reached for her, it whispered across her cheek. Her hood was pushed back. They were kneeling facing each other. On her bed. Because of the lack of height, Hugh had to stoop his head to avoid touching the planks above them; it brought his lips very close to hers.

  ‘Hugh!’ Despite the poor light, everything snapped into sharp focus. Hugh’s eyes were very dark, his expression arrested, as though he had just come to a realisation and was not certain that he liked it. Flakes of limewash and plaster were stuck in his hair. Hanging the lantern on a nail in the head board—her hand had for some reason begun to shake—Aude reached up to brush them away. When she realised what she was doing, she snatched her hand back. Hugh seemed to be waiting for some thing. ‘Hugh?’

  Her mouth was dry, it must be the plaster dust. She could hear their breathing, the mutter of voices in the hall, and the soft hiss of rain in the mud outside. Time seemed to slow.

  His hand slid round the back of her neck and carefully, eyes never leaving hers, he brought her closer. When his breath warmed her cheek, her heart began to pound.

  His mouth went up at the corner and he cleared his throat. ‘Everything is ready?’ he murmured.

  She waved at where she thought she had put the pouch and bundled-up blanket but, truth to tell, she could think of nothing but…Hugh. She was trans fixed, unable to look away. ‘I…I got as much as I could without raising suspicion.’

  He didn’t so much as glance at the bundle. He was examining her face as though he had never seen it before, eyes lingering on her mouth, her eyes. Aude couldn’t breathe, she felt absurdly self-conscious. He was rubbing the tips of his fingers up and down in the nape of her neck—setting off little tingles that created disturbing echoes in her breasts and belly, starry little tingles…

  ‘Hugh, why are you staring at me like that?’

  ‘Don’t you like it?’

  ‘No…yes…I…I am not sure. It makes me feel…strange.’

  He gave a soft laugh. ‘Not as strange as I feel, I am sure. Little Aude…Brat…’ He shook his head. ‘Lord—’

  ‘Hugh, you really should not have climbed in here.’ Aude’s thoughts raced. She was an unmarried lady and her reputation here in England was unsullied. It simply was not done for a lady to have a man in her bed, even though he was her brother’s friend and it was perfectly innocent.

  Hugh’s smile twisted.

  Innocent? Sweet Mother, save her.

  ‘I dare say you are right,’ he muttered, ‘but I couldn’t resist…you smiled so invitingly, it seemed you were welcoming me to your bed.’

  ‘But I was not!’

  ‘Pity, it is delightfully cosy in here.’ He heaved a sigh. ‘Aude, it was simply too tempting, I have imagined you in bed many times…’

  Her mouth fell open.

  ‘But I confess I never saw you in so many clothes.’

  Her cheeks took fire and for a moment she was unable to draw breath. There was a hall full of people on the other side of the b
ed-curtain. She was conscious of the cool night air flowing through the gap he had torn in the wall, but most of all she was conscious of Hugh. Of that be guiling masculine scent that she had first noticed in Jumièges.

  His hair was white with limewash. She brushed it away and immediately regretted it, for he leaned his head into the palm of her hand as though she had offered him a caress. Which she most certainly had not.

  ‘Limewash,’ she muttered. ‘You have bits of limewash on your head.’

  His smile was his old teasing smile, so why did it make her feel so hot? His gaze was dark and watchful; and his fingers, tangling in her unbound hair, were making tiny stroking movements. She sensed that he was waiting for some thing—but what could he be waiting for, when they ought to getting to Gil as quickly as possible?

  ‘Gil,’ she muttered, ‘we must get to Gil.’

  ‘This will take but a moment.’ His fingers tightened on her scalp, his other hand dived beneath her cloak and wound round her waist. He tugged and she fell against that broad chest. Smiling crookedly, Hugh lowered his head.

  A kiss? With Hugh? Her heart beat went wild. This was a kiss that she was going to enjoy, this was…

  Their lips came together. There was a rush of starry tingles, every where. Aude had no sooner sighed into his mouth than he drew back…leaving her with no choice but to frown and tug at his hair…

  Another kiss? More?

  His mouth was gentle, and again he was smiling as he pressed one, two, three, small teasing kisses against her lips. Her bones were melting, the tiny stars were shooting every where. Her muscles went lax.

  ‘Hugh.’

  More tiny kisses, tantalising kisses, kisses which made her crave more… She pressed against him, held him against her, chest to breast. Her nipples tightened, the stubble of his growing beard grazed her cheek. She moaned.

  ‘Brat.’

  He nibbled at her lips, he licked them. She opened her mouth and then his tongue was inside, touching hers, playing. They fell back on to the blankets, a startled, messy tangle of limbs, cloaks and flurried breathing. Those stars, she could feel them every where.