Forbidden Lady

by Anne Herries

  Agnes burst into tears and ran through to the outer chamber.

  How could the girl have betrayed her so cruelly? Melissa felt as if she were on fire, her mind working furiously as she thought about all the times her father had seemed to know what she was doing or thinking. She had trusted her ladies, often telling them her secrets—and Agnes had betrayed her to her father. She would send the girl away and ask Lady Gifford to supply her with another serving woman. She could hardly bear to look at Agnes now that she knew she was the cause of all her grief.

  Laying down the embroidery panel she was working on, Melissa got up and went over to the narrow window to look out. The glass was grey and the view somewhat distorted, but she could see what was going on. A white flag had been hoisted over the castle walls. As she watched, the gates were being opened and men began to ride into the courtyard. Some of them were dismounting and there was some shouting going on, as if a few of the earl’s men did not take kindly to the idea of surrender.

  The courtyard was gradually filling with soldiers now, some of them in full armour, the sun shining on the slanted metal plates that were designed to deflect the missile from the deadly crossbow. Her heart raced as one of them took off his helmet and she could see his face well enough through the thick glass to know him. She recognised the powerful figure of the man she loved.

  Rob was here! He was here and she would see him sooner or later, even though she had been ordered to stay in her chamber. Her anger at his manner towards her in the forest that day had long since gone. Would he give her a chance to explain that she had been betrayed and forced to do her father’s bidding? Would it even matter to him now? She knew that she had killed his love the day she had sent him away, but perhaps he would help her to leave this place and seek sanctuary in a nunnery.

  She looked down at the man in the courtyard below, accepting the surrender of Gifford Towers from the earl himself. She knew that her father’s cousin must be angry and humiliated and she wondered that he had accepted his fate so easily. He had planned to fight at the start, but something had made him change his mind—what?

  It was clear that the earl would not feel honour bound to keep any pledge he gave. Was he hoping that his captors would grow careless so that he might escape? Melissa was certain in her own mind that the earl did not intend to go cap in hand to the King and beg for mercy—which must mean only one thing. He hoped to win his freedom by other methods.

  Should she warn Robert of Melford that Gifford was not to be trusted? Yet if she did that, he might be punished or sent to London in chains as a prisoner. And there was the question of his wife and son—and the entire household. Perhaps it would be better if she kept silent. After all, she had only her intuition to go on, and who would listen to the thoughts of a woman?

  She turned away from the window and sat down, picking up her sewing. It was a pastime she normally enjoyed for it was a pleasure to see a picture take shape from her skill with the needle and the glowing colours of her embroidery silks were lovely. She knew that she might have to wait for hours before she was summoned, and she was comparing two strands of pink silk, which were slightly different in colour, when she heard voices and a noise in the outer chamber.

  Something was going on! Melissa lifted her head, wondering about the commotion, but it did not occur to her that it was important for she did not expect to be summoned until well into the day, when refreshments were laid in the great hall. However, a moment later, the door was flung open and a man came in, still arguing with the women who were trying to bar him from her chamber.

  ‘Rob…Sir Robert,’ she said, for the anger in his eyes told her that she could look for no softness from him. Nothing had changed in all these weeks. He would always hate her. ‘I had heard that you were coming. I am glad the earl offered no resistance for many lives have been saved.’ Her eyes strayed to his face, for the red scar on his cheek was still as vivid and raw as it had been when she first saw it. Something made her ask, ‘Does it still pain you?’

  ‘Would it give you pleasure to know that it does?’ Rob asked, and his hand went to his face, for he knew that she must be revolted by its ugliness. ‘Your brother told me that I had insulted you—and this was my punishment. I bear it with pride, for it is a constant reminder of the perfidy of women.’

  Melissa seemed frozen to the spot. She had risen to her feet when he came in, her embroidery falling to the ground. She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, her mouth dry as she felt a spiral of fear run through her. He looked so angry, his tone so bitter. This was not the charming man she had fallen in love with so desperately, but a stranger. She was not to know that Rob was deliberately harsh, because he feared that he might weaken.

  Her hand crept to her throat, for she was wearing the trinket he had once given her, and it hung from a ribbon at her throat. His eyes followed her movement and she saw him frown as he saw the jade heart.

  ‘I told my father nothing of what happened between us,’ she whispered, the colour draining from her face. ‘We were betrayed by a woman who served me…’ She could not continue for her throat felt tight with suppressed tears. ‘I had no choice…’ What was the use? He would not believe her. She raised her head proudly, meeting his eyes now as anger bolstered her courage. ‘But believe what you will. It makes little difference now.’

  Rob came towards her, his expression stern, unforgiving. ‘I came to inform you that you are now my prisoner, lady,’ he said in a voice hoarse with a mixture of emotions he did not care to acknowledge. ‘By what name should I address you? Are you wed to the Marquis of Leominster?’

  ‘No…he was called away and the betrothal by proxy did not take place,’ Melissa whispered, her lips white. He hated her so! How could he not after what had happened to him? ‘My uncle keeps me here until…’ She faltered for she did not know how to go on.

  ‘It is as well for you that you were not wed,’ Rob said, still cold and distant. ‘Had you been a wife you would soon have been a widow. Your intended husband took sides against Henry. He is known to be plotting even now to aid a rebellion and for that his life is forfeit.’

  Melissa was trembling. Not because she cared what became of the marquis, but because Rob was so stern and she had never imagined that he could be like this. Even in the forest, when he had rescued her he had not seemed so cold. Indeed, as they rode together she had felt something between them, but now he looked at her as if they had never been lovers.

  ‘What of my cousin, sir?’ she asked. ‘Will the King be merciful?’

  ‘My orders are to send him under guard to London, where he will be imprisoned in the Tower until Henry has time to deal with him. He surrendered to me and took no actual part in the fighting. He may be spared if he swears loyalty to the King. That is not my business. My task was to take the fortress in Henry’s name, which I have this day.’

  ‘My cousin’s wife and her son?’ Melissa swallowed hard for she could see no softness in this knight. Where was the laughing, gallant man to whom she had given her heart? Had he gone forever? She thought that her brother’s cruelty must have killed all that she had loved in him, and her heart ached for something lost.

  ‘All the women and children will be treated fairly,’ Rob said, his gaze intent. He showed no emotion and yet a little nerve flicked in his throat, as if he were fighting some strong emotion. ‘I have not yet decided what shall be your fate, Melissa of Whitbread.’ He frowned as she was silent, her face pale, eyes downcast. ‘You do not ask for news of your father?’

  Melissa raised her head, a spark of pride in her eyes now. ‘I know that it was his intention to fight for King Richard. If he was not killed in battle he may be attained as a traitor, his lands forfeit…though his son took no part in the battle for he was here.’

  ‘Do you plead for your half brother?’

  ‘No…’ Melissa took a deep breath. ‘I have no reason to love him or my father—but I believe in honesty and fairness. I played no part in what happened to you that day,
sir, but I beg you to forgive me—for it was done in my name.’

  ‘Forgive you?’ Rob’s expression did not change, though she sensed his bitter anger. ‘For the face that must frighten the children? For the pain I endured night after night—for the humiliation at Lord Whitbread’s hands? For the lies you told me? How may a man forgive these things, lady? Tell me, and perhaps I shall.’

  He had not forgotten how to mock her, but now she could no longer smile. He had teased her unmercifully as they walked and laughed together in the meadows, but his eyes had been warm and loving then and now they were like ice. The pain seared deep inside her, for she knew that it was impossible. No man could forgive what had been done to Rob—and she knew that all her hopes were at an end.

  ‘For all or none, sir,’ she said, a hint of pride in her lovely face as she met his angry gaze. ‘If you can forgive one you can forgive all—but if not then you must hate me. Were there a way to turn back the clock and take away your pain, I would do it, but I think there is none.’ Tears sparkled in her eyes but pride had come to her rescue. She would not beg nor would she weep. ‘My future is in your hands, sir. I must do whatever you tell me.’

  ‘Must you?’ Rob came closer. So close that she could feel the cold anger emanating from him as an icy blast from the north winds. He reached out, his hands touching her hair. It fell in luxurious strands to her shoulders, tumbling down her back in soft waves. He let the red-gold strands trickle through his fingers, his voice thick with desire as he said, ‘Your hair is even more beautiful than I remembered in my fevered dreams.’

  ‘Rob…’ Melissa’s pulses raced as he reached out for her. He had taken off his breastplate of steel and he caught her to him, holding her pressed against the hardness of his chest, his leather jerkin soft and yielding to her hand. As she gazed up at him, his head came down and he took possession of her mouth—but his kiss was not like the others she had had of him. His lips were hard and angry as he took without giving, bruising, demanding and cruel. When he let her go, she put her trembling fingers to her lips, feeling as if she had been used, her eyes brimming with the shaming tears, which she still held back. ‘Why…’

  ‘So that you understand that you are my prisoner,’ Rob told her. ‘Mine to do with as I please. I have given surety for every lady in the fortress, save one. You will be given neither your freedom—nor a promise of safety. As yet, I have not decided what I shall do with you, but forget your ideas of marriage to the marquis, for that I shall never allow.’

  Melissa felt her throat tighten. Did he imagine that she had wanted to be Leominster’s bride? She had longed to tell him the truth, to explain that what she had done had been for his sake, but she could not plead with the man he had become. It would shame her to weep and beg and she would not give him the pleasure of seeing her humbled.

  ‘I am yours to do with as you will, sir,’ she said. He was angry and he hated her. Her heart felt as if it had been encased in ice. Even though his kiss had bruised and hurt her, she would still be his willingly if he asked it of her. She had loved him so much, but she would not risk further humiliation by showing him that she was still his for the taking. ‘I acted as I did for good reason, sir—but I do not ask you to believe me. Nor shall I beg for your forgiveness. All that I ask in common mercy is that you will allow me to leave here. I should like to retire to a nunnery and become one of the sisters.’

  ‘You ask too much,’ he said. ‘You and your family owe restitution to mine. My father died after a visit from your brother—and you gave me false promises and this—’ he touched the scar ‘—do you not think that I am entitled to compensation for my injuries?’

  ‘Yes, perhaps,’ Melissa said. ‘King Richard was the guardian of my fortune, but I know not what has become of it—take it, for it has brought me nothing but grief. I wish only to spend the rest of my life in sanctuary.’

  ‘You think that gold will pay? It seems that you are your father’s child, lady—but blood must be paid in blood.’

  ‘Then kill me and have done with it!’ she cried.

  ‘Do not think that I have not thought of it…’

  ‘Then do it now! I am willing to pay all my family’s debts.’

  Rob’s eyes scorned her but he made no reply, turning to walk from the room without another word. Melissa stood where she was for a moment longer after he had gone, and then sank to her knees, covering her face with her hands.

  Walking away from Melissa’s chamber, Rob was churning with conflicting emotions. He had been harsh with her, because if he softened once she would worm her way into his heart again. For a few minutes as they first met, he had seemed to see the girl he loved and he had wanted to take her into his arms and kiss her, but then she had become cold and proud, and he was reminded of the day she drove him from her. And yet the memory of her brother’s words was imprinted into his mind, words that had made him writhe in agony a thousand times.

  She had been wearing the jade heart on a ribbon at her throat. Why had she kept that trinket? Why had she worn it—to soften his heart perhaps, to make him believe that she still cared for him? He would be a fool to believe in such sentiment! Harold’s words were burned into his memory.

  That was for my sister. She tells me you have insulted her.

  She said that she had acted for good reason, implying that she was innocent. How could he believe her? His fingers strayed to the scar on his cheek. He knew that he must look ugly enough to curdle the milk, as the goodwives said to their children when they wished to frighten them with a monster. He had seen other women stare at the scar and turn away in disgust. Why should Melissa be any different? He was not particularly vain, but he knew that women had always loved him for his looks. That was now a thing of the past! He was scarred inwardly and outwardly, and the bitterness he had endured had made him harder.

  He could not believe in love. How could any woman want his kisses now? Besides, she had never truly loved him—how could she when she had betrayed him to her father for the sake of wealth and rank? Why should he believe anything she said?

  Yet the pride in her eyes as she told him to take his revenge on her—her scorn for the fortune she had inherited—and a look in her eyes that spoke of grief and sleepless nights, all these things told him that she was innocent. Was it possible that she had been the victim of her father’s spite?

  It was useless! He could not let down the shield he had erected to keep him safe in the dark hours. To believe her would be to love her, and that would make him vulnerable.

  He fought the churning desire inside him. His men were even now making the fortress secure. He must decide what to do about the Earl of Gifford before moving on to attack Leominster’s stronghold—and his thoughts concerning Melissa must be put aside for the moment.

  Melissa was staring out of the window when the door of her chamber opened. She thought it was her serving woman and did not immediately turn her head, but then, hearing a man cough, she swung ‘round, her heart thumping. For a moment she had thought Rob had returned, but she gave a cry of relief and pleasure when she saw it was Owain.

  ‘My dear friend!’ she cried, and ran to him, holding out her hands to greet him. He took them, raising one to his lips to kiss it lightly. ‘I have longed for word from you, Owain. Forgive me for leaving you with the monks, but I dared not stay for fear of my father’s anger.’

  ‘How are you, my lady?’ he asked, his eyes studying her face, seeing the shadows beneath her eyes and the grief she was trying to hide. Was he right to keep his secret from her? For years he had suppressed the longing to tell her something that might set her free. Perhaps one day, but the time had not yet come. He must first discover if the rumour that her mother lived had any truth in it. ‘I have wanted to come to you, but I gave my promise to help put Henry Tudor on the throne of England—and this was my first opportunity.’

  ‘So you fought with Robert of Melford for Henry Tudor?’

  Owain nodded. He noticed signs of redness about her eyes an
d guessed that she had shed a few tears after Rob had visited her, though she had done her best to wash away the signs.

  ‘Yes, my lady. He is a brave leader and men follow him willingly. We fought in the same battle, side by side with Henry Tudor. I admire him as a man and a leader—but I think he is very angry. He believes that you betrayed him to your father. And what was done to him was cruel. Harold had given orders that he was to die, but I came upon them as they set about their wicked work and I killed them. I took him back to his family…but perhaps it would have been better if I had left him to die?’

  ‘No! How can you say it?’ Melissa cried. ‘It is bad enough that he suffered as he did—but at least he lives…even if he hates me.’

  ‘But you—do you love him?’

  ‘I do not know…’ Melissa raised her head. ‘If I did, it would shame me to admit it, for he hates me.’

  ‘Did you know what your father and brother planned that day?’

  ‘Do you really need to ask?’ Melissa’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Surely you know me better, Owain? I would have married him willingly, gladly, for I loved him—but my father told me that, unless I sent him away, he would kill him. Not easily with the sword, but a slow death by torture—and his family was to be destroyed, his home burned to the ground.’

  ‘So that your father could take Melford’s lands,’ Owain said, nodding grimly. ‘He has coveted them for many years—but the trouble began long ago. Your father wanted the woman Oswald Melford married but she told him that she would have none of him and took Melford instead. He was a mere country squire, his lands substantial but nothing to your father’s riches, though he and his son have added to them over the years…’

  ‘My father loved Rob’s mother?’ Melissa stared at him in astonishment. ‘So that is why my father wanted to hear me humiliate Rob…He listened to me from behind the tapestry. I understand now why he was so angry. It was sweet revenge for what he had suffered.’