Now she under stood what people meant when they said they wanted the floor to open up and swallow them. If only the floor would open up, it could take her and the bed and Hugh, and…
Eyes wide, she gazed helplessly at Hugh.
‘Let me see,’ Edouard was saying. ‘It is not like Aude to lie abed so late.’
The curtain swept open, light flooded in, and Aude found herself blinking into her brother’s in credulous face.
We must look the picture of guilt.
Straightening her shoulders, hastily checking that the ties of her night gown were in place, Aude twisted her hair over her shoulder and climbed out of bed.
Edouard was making a choking sound. Several gasps came from further down the hall.
‘Good morning, Edouard.’ Aude’s voice was trembling, she hoped no one noticed. Everyone had frozen and the hall was held by an appalled, pin-drop quiet. She was vaguely conscious of Hugh emerging from the box-bed behind her, of him straightening his tunic, clearing his throat. She even caught the guarded look he flashed at Edouard.
Every eye moved from her to Hugh.
Edouard’s mouth hung open. His chest heaved and a muscle jumped in his jaw.
‘Welcome to Alfold, Edouard.’ Aude forced light ness into her voice. ‘It is good to see you.’ Somehow, her feet carried her forwards to receive his kiss.
Edouard gave her the absent-minded kiss a brother usually bestowed on a sister, years of habit briefly overcoming his shock.
‘Aude,’ he began to sputter. ‘You…you and…’
Reaching behind her, Aude fumbled for Hugh’s hand. Firm fingers squeezed hers and then he was standing at her shoulder, eyes shielded.
‘Good morning, Lord Edouard,’ Hugh said, calmly.
‘Hugh…’ Edouard cleared his throat, his face very red. ‘What the devil are you up to?’
‘Did our letter reach you, Edouard?’ Clutching at straws, Aude blurted the first thing that came into her head. Since coming to Wessex she had written to her brother, but that had been long before Hugh’s arrival and she had made no mention of him. The letter she had sent had certainly not been a joint letter from her and Hugh, as she was implying.
Sir Ralph and Sir William were watching intently from their place by the hearth. Aude was uncertain of their loyalty. But worse that that was her brother’s stunned expression. What might Edouard say? Caught off-guard like this, was he in danger of in advertently revealing Hugh’s true identity? That must not happen!
‘Your letter? Oh, yes, indeed I have your letter,’ Edouard ground out, but his eyes said very clearly that he under stood there had been no letter concerning Hugh.
Aude made herself smile. It was no easy thing trying to appear calm when everyone was fixed on your slightest move. She gripped Hugh’s hand and hung her head. ‘I know you forbade me to speak to Hugh of Jumièges,’ she said, making a point of stressing Hugh’s assumed name ‘and that you consider an untitled man un suitable, but I have to tell you—’
‘A moment, Aude.’ Edouard caught her chin and forced her eyes to meet his. ‘Hugh of…Jumièges?’ His lips twitched.
‘I…yes.’ Her chin inched up. ‘I know you forbade me to associate with Hugh, Edouard. I am sorry I disobeyed you and I am sorry to make you angry—’
Hugh made a sharp movement. ‘Aude, my dear…’ His voice was soft, but it did not sound as intimate as it had done when they had been whispering in the illusory safety of the box-bed; it sounded dangerous. Insincere. He never called her my dear. ‘I think it best that I do the talking.’
‘No such thing.’ Aude gritted her teeth, aware her cheeks must be crimson. Her thoughts were scurrying this way and that, searching for a way out. The panic almost engulfed her.
And then it hit her. Of course! The answer was obvious. If she dare.
She thought furiously. If only there was time to consider this fully, Hugh would be within his rights to be very angry…but there was no time, she must act and act swiftly.
She gave him what she hoped was a serene smile. ‘Hugh, Edouard is my brother and I have disobeyed him. It is my responsibility to make him a full confession. We must tell him everything.’
Hugh’s mouth was smiling, but his eyes were confused. He had no idea, Aude realised with a jolt, no idea what she was about to do.
I am trying to save your skin, and you may never forgive me. But I have to do this, Hugh, please understand. If you were indeed plain Hugh of Jumièges and you were caught in my bed, that would be bad enough, but should Edouard let slip that you are Count Hugh de Freyncourt…
She hauled in a breath and lifted her arm so no one present could be in any doubt that she and Hugh were clasping hands. Her heart was pounding as though she had just run from Crabbe Wood.
‘Edouard, I am glad you arrived this morning,’ she said, in a clear voice that would reach the furthest corner of the hall. ‘Because I have to tell you that last night Hugh of Jumièges and I accepted each other as man and wife.’
Hugh’s breath caught.
Aude could not look at him, she dare not.
Edouard’s eyes went wide. ‘Married? You and Hugh?’
‘Yes, we are married.’ Slowly, Aude lowered their clasped hands.
The still ness in the hall was uncanny; she had never heard such a still ness, the whole of Wessex must be in its grip.
What had she done?
‘Lord!’ Louise was the first to break the silence. She plumped down on a wall-bench.
Edwige’s jaw dropped. A slow grin spread across Gil’s face.
And Hugh? It was too soon to look at Hugh.
Outside, the cock crowed, but Aude scarcely heard it. Every muscle was tense lest Hugh should deny her.
‘Aude, are you certain?’ Hugh’s harsh mutter twisted her heart. She was unable to lift her eyes to his face but she could tell his teeth were clenched. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him gesture curtly at their fascinated audience, voice pitched so that only she and Edouard would hear. ‘You do realise—this amounts to a public declaration. I am hardly a prospect for any sensible woman at the moment, but if I agree there will be no going back—we will be married. This will have far-reaching consequences.’
There was a huge lump in Aude’s throat. She had shocked him—no, it was worse than that, Hugh was beside himself with anger…the words ‘sensible woman’ had been uttered so scathingly. He had never used such a tone with her before—never.
What had she done? Unable to find her voice, she gave a jerky nod. She might not be a sensible woman, but she knew the traditions—a priest was not necessary for a marriage to be binding. Two things were necessary. First, that both parties consent and make a public declaration before wit nesses and, second, consummation.
It was fast becoming common place to ask for a priest’s blessing, but a blessing was by no means a necessity. Because their ‘marriage’ had not been con sum mated, it would be simple for Hugh to deny her. And if he did deny her? Well, events would then fall out as they must; she would suffer some disgrace, but that was a small thing. It was true that her declaration complicated matters, and yet…
Surely Hugh’s position in England might be improved if he was Aude of Alfold’s husband? For one thing, it would supply him with an excuse to remain in Wessex. And as long as she could persuade him to keep out of sight of the King, there was likely only a handful of others who had actually had met him in person and could denounce him as being the disgraced Count de Freyncourt.
Aude risked a glance. He was looking rumpled. That sun-streaked hair was tousled, it was obvious he had just woken up. There was a troubled expression in his eyes and his lips were tightly com pressed. Her chest ached; it was no good, she could not lie to herself. She was des per ate that Hugh should not come to harm.
His sense of honour may make him refuse you.
It was true that if Hugh accepted her declaration, he would be putting her in some danger. It was no light matter to give aid to a lord who should not even be in
England. Thinking to protect her, he could deny her.
Might he resent her for putting him in this position? Might he blame her for not sending him on his way last night?
Aude looked at her toes. If only she had thought before she opened her mouth. Too late, it is too late to claw the words back. She had spoken out because she loved him, she had done so ever since she was a child. He had been her hero and she had idolised him. But there was a world of difference between loving someone and falling in love with them, as she was fast learning.
The worst thing that could happen had happened. She had fallen in love with Hugh Duclair. And if he made a liar of her, her life would lie in ruins.
‘Aude, you are certain?’
The hall seemed to rock as a wave of dizziness swept over her. Hugh did not want her. What had she done?
Chapter Twelve
Edouard was watching them, a tight smile on his lips. Aude loved her brother, but not in the same way that she loved Hugh Duclair, not at all in the same way. She folded her lips together, refusing to say anything of her feelings. Hugh was already under pressure here, she had no wish to make things even worse.
Her hand trembled. ‘I am certain,’ she murmured.
Hugh’s lips formed a smile so cold it sent a shiver down her spine. His fingers bit into hers. ‘Very well.’ His gaze shifted to Edouard. ‘Lord Edouard,’ he spoke with distant formality, ‘I have long wished to marry your sister and would have you know that we are fully contracted to each other. If it pleases you, all that remains is for you to witness our union as it is blessed by the Church.’
Hugh had long wished to marry her?
No, Hugh was playing to their audience, prettying up this mess by saying what he thought the others wanted to hear. It meant nothing.
Lines on his brow, Edouard was shaking his head in a bemused way. ‘Aude, you run away from marriage in Jumièges—’ his voice was low, confidential ‘—yet now you have married Hugh?’
‘Yes.’
Abruptly the lines vanished. ‘I see it! You have been nursing a secret tendre for Hugh for years…’
Aude lifted her chin. ‘Nonsense!’
Both Edouard and Hugh were staring at her, everyone was staring at her, but only Edouard and Hugh had heard her lie.
Swallowing, she enlarged on it. ‘I admit Hugh was some thing of hero to me when I was younger, but as for nursing a tendre for him—what nonsense!’
‘Very well.’ Edouard looked unconvinced, but he drew himself up and glanced about the hall as though to assure himself that he had everyone’s attention. Loudly, he cleared his throat. ‘You, Aude de Crèvecoeur, have taken Hugh of Jumièges in marriage?’
This then, was the declaration. There were certainly plenty of wit nesses present—the entire hall— Heavens.
‘Yes.’ It was terrifying how one lie led so swiftly to another. Aude put steel in her voice. ‘I do declare that Hugh and I are married.’
‘And I, Hugh…of Jumièges, do confirm it.’
Edouard was shaking his head again. Confused? Angry? It was impossible to say. Aude hoped he was not angry.
She was gripped by a sense of unreality. Part of her was dreading the moment when Hugh would give her his reaction, his real reaction. He would not do so here in public; here he was taking refuge in formality. But later, when they were on their own… God help her!
‘Very well,’ Edouard said. ‘Let us pray that neither of you lives to regret it.’
‘We won’t.’ Hugh sent Aude a smile of such cloying sweet ness that she narrowed her eyes at him. Her brother might not be angry, but Hugh definitely was. Hugh’s smile was telling her that she had over stepped herself when she had declared him to be her husband.
‘A moment, Hugh, if you please.’ Edouard gestured him to one side.
Hugh released her and the two men moved away, abandoning Aude by the box-bed. She was uncomfortably conscious that she was clad only in her night gown, and that Edwige and Louise were staring at her as though they had never seen her before. On his pallet, Gil was leaning up on an elbow; he was focused on Edouard and Hugh, but there was a similar expression in his eyes. It made her realise the enormity of what she had done.
Hugh was her husband!
What were Hugh and Edouard saying to one another? Whatever it was, she wanted to hear it, but she could hardly chase after them in her night clothes!
Hooking a blanket from the bed, she flung it round her shoulders and arched a brow at one of the round-eyed serving girls. ‘The entertainment is over for the morning.’
‘Yes, my lady.’
‘Please continue preparing for break fast. After that we will have to shift our selves, there will be a wedding feast this evening.’
She remained the focus of all eyes. Louise was grinning at her from across the hall. Gil raised his hand to her and Sir Ralph and Sir William inclined their heads in her direction. Sir Olivier she could not look at.
Guilt weighed on her with regard to Sir Olivier. She had made it clear to him in Jumièges that she would not marry him, but he was the most personable of her house hold knights and until a few moments ago she had thought it possible that she might change her mind. He had told her he would not give up hope; she owed him an explanation.
Later, though—Sir Olivier’s explanation would have to wait. She must dress, and quickly! Hugh and Edouard were deep in conference, moving past the trestles towards the light spilling in through the doorway. Going out? Where? She gazed frowningly after them. Something was niggling at the back of her mind. It concerned Edouard’s reaction when she and Hugh had emerged from the box-bed. That watchful way he had observed them, some thing about it had not rung true. Edouard had been shocked to see them together, but he had not seemed particularly surprised to see Hugh, which was odd. Her brother had then made some comment to Hugh, but try as she might, she couldn’t recall it. And what were they were talking about now? Her very public declaration of marriage or some thing else?
Hugh scooped up a hunk of bread from a table as they passed it; he had missed the evening meal yesterday and must be ravenous. As he and Edouard went out, a muted babble arose.
‘Such shameful be ha vi our, and she—a lady—she should know better!’
‘Hastily patched together to conceal the most scandalous of affairs.’
‘How long do you think that has been going on?’
‘Her brother had no idea, did you see Lord Edouard’s face?’
‘Could such a marriage possibly last?’
‘A shocking business, I always thought Normans were…’
Not wanting to hear any more, her mind in chaos, Aude hurled herself into the relative quiet of the box-bed. She yanked the curtain shut and snatched blindly at a gown hanging on the hook at the foot of the bed.
When she re-emerged, Gil was seated at one of the trestles talking to Edwige. ‘You look much recovered, Gil,’ Aude said.
Luckily her hand had fallen on the most demure of gowns, a simple green one in a light weight summer weave. Her veil was white and it was pinned very firmly in place. After their rude awakening this morning, a demure gown was definitely called for.
Gil grinned. ‘I feel much better, thank you.’
‘Good, but please remember you should not be riding today.’
‘I shall remember.’
Aude jerked her head at the hall entrance, where a splash of sunlight fell across the floor. ‘Haven’t they come back?’
‘No, my lady.’
She stepped into the warmth outside. Edouard had brought a small retinue with him. Raoul and a couple of grooms were leading off the horses, and Aude’s old travel ling trunks—the ones she had left half-empty in the Abbey Lodge at Jumièges—were lined up, waiting to be carried in. Shame took her. She had deceived Edouard in Jumièges, she had deceived him today. What a terrible sister she was.
‘Good day, Raoul.’
‘Good day, my lady.’
She ran Hugh and Edouard to earth in the village church.
They were standing in front of the altar with Father Ambrose and a monk in a black habit who was a stranger to her. Edouard was gesticulating violently but the moment her shadow fell over them, he froze. It was obvious she had interrupted an argument.
Four faces turned towards her. Edouard was wearing his blackest expression; the priest and the monk looked politely concerned, but their reactions did not concern her. She looked at Hugh. Those dark brows were drawn together, his mouth was thin. Tension in every muscle, she approached them, skirts sweeping the beaten earth floor.
Hugh’s hand reached out, drawing her to his side. ‘Aude, permit me to introduce Brother Reinfrid.’
His hold was firm, but gentle. And it might be wishful thinking on Aude’s part, but perhaps his expression did not seem as stern as it had done back in the hall. Some of her tension seeped away. ‘Good day, Brother.’
The monk inclined his head. ‘Lady Aude.’
‘Did you accompany Lord Edouard from Normandy, Brother Reinfrid?’
Edouard made an impatient movement. ‘He did, but what business it is of yours, Aude, I cannot see.’
Hugh gave him a straight look. ‘Edouard, if Aude is truly to be my wife, this is very much her concern.’
Edouard grunted, ‘You know my views. From the first I didn’t want Aude sucked into your troubles, I am thinking of her safety.’
‘Her safety is my concern too.’
‘Damn it all, Hugh, if that is so, then why the devil did you come back to Alfold a second time?’
‘You know the answer.’ Hugh shot a sidelong glance at Aude. ‘I have just explained how Gil was sorely wounded, he needed skills far beyond mine.’
Aude’s sixth sense stirred, and again she found herself struggling to work out exactly what was bothering her about Edouard’s reaction to finding them in bed together. There were dark under cur rents here. She had the distinct impression that there were two conversations going on, and the actual words being ex changed between her brother and Hugh were only half the story. ‘Mon Dieu, Hugh, you didn’t have to sleep with her!’
Hugh grimaced. ‘That was an error, I admit I had no intention of doing so.’
Wessex Weddings 05 - Her Banished Lord Page 16