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The Damsel's Defiance

Page 12

by Meriel Fuller


  ‘We are grateful for your hospitality, my lord,’ the Earl replied. ‘It will allow the Empress and myself to assemble our allies and make an advance on Winchester, to claim the treasury and thence the throne. Henry’s body will be taken on to the abbey at Reading where people can pay their last respects.’ The group fell silent for a moment as they watched the cumbersome progress of the linen-wrapped body, manhandled up the beach by three members of the crew.

  ‘Then what are we waiting for?’ Maud demanded. ‘I am eager to become Queen of England!’ She raised a small, pudgy hand. ‘Help me up, please, Emmeline, for my bones are stiff.’ Emmeline stretched a hand forward, but Talvas brushed her aside, his lean, tanned hand pulling the Empress to her feet. Emmeline fumed. She had been perfectly happy to help Maud, beginning to like the brusque, practical ways of the woman.

  ‘Then this is where I will take my leave.’ Emmeline touched Talvas’s arm briefly to gain his attention. He frowned, crossing his arms high over his broad chest, his stare frank and assessing. Emmeline swallowed, her throat dry from the saltwater. ‘If I could have the loan of a horse, I would ride to my sister’s estate, which is not some twenty miles from here.’

  ‘Dressed as you are?’ The stern castigation in his tone could not be ignored. The azure brilliance of his eyes scoured her state of undress, her wet curls strewn around her shoulders like that of a mermaid. ‘I think you might need to sort yourself out before you travel anywhere.’

  ‘Stay a while with us, Emmeline,’ Maud encouraged. ‘I would like the chance to know you better.’

  As I would, thought Talvas. He had spent but a handful of days in the woman’s company, yet, in that small time, she had tipped his world upside-down. He had no wish to see her disappear so soon.

  ‘I…’ Her linen veil and overdress had been lost to the sea, but her hair could easily be put right with braids. She frowned.

  ‘Have you no sense, mistress? If you set out on the road like that, have you any idea what could happen to you?’ Emmeline’s face flamed, acutely conscious of Maud and Robert listening intently.

  ‘I can do as I choose,’ she replied mulishly. Why did he curb her so? He was not her protector!

  ‘Choice might not come into it when you’re wrenched from your horse and raped in the bushes,’ he returned roughly, a cruel twist to his mouth. She recoiled at the vulgarity of his words, knitting her fingers together over her stomach. He noted the defensive gesture and inwardly cursed his roughness.

  ‘Aye, you may flinch at my words, mam’selle, but you would do well to heed them. I speak the truth. Accept my hospitality, if only for one night. I can furnish you with an escort and outriders if it be your wish to visit your sister on the morrow.’

  ‘Why not let the maid go now?’ the Earl interrupted in a bored tone. ‘She has served her purpose.’ Besides, he might take to the road himself if this tempting little morsel was riding all alone!

  Talvas lifted his shoulders—a gesture of dismissal. ‘I cannot forcibly hold her if she is intent on her purpose, but ’tis not wise to travel without an escort.’

  ‘Then lend me one now,’ She challenged, unwilling to give in so easily. She had no wish to travel to his home, to be with him any longer than she had to!

  ‘Impossible, mam’selle,’ he replied, deliberately keeping his tone disinterested. ‘Most of my men and their families live on their own farmsteads. It will take at least a day to summon them.’

  She held fast on to his bright azure gaze, not wanting to accept his offer, not wanting to give in, to back down. It was childish, she knew, but her years of independence had made her so with men. The intense blue of his eyes goaded her. She adjusted her position on the shingle, lifting one foot, then the other; the round, clacking pebbles resettled around her toes.

  ‘It seems I have no choice,’ she responded, finally.

  The tide was running out fast toward the sea as the bedraggled party picked their way on horseback along the cobbled road that edged the wide river estuary. The lowering water began to reveal a vast area of marshland and reedbed, crossed with a sinuous pattern of muddy rivulets. The smooth, polished-grey trunks of ancient beech trees lined the upper side of the roadway, the starkness of their branches stuck up like lightning forks beneath the leaden sky. Behind the slow-moving group, an ox cart lumbered carrying the few possessions that had been retrieved from La Belle Saumur, including the body of the late King Henry.

  Rankling from Talvas’s coarse reprimand, Emmeline stared fixedly at her horse’s mane, paying little attention to her direction. If she had spirit enough, she should have stood up to Talvas and broken away from this party. She hated having to rely on him for hospitality, and, as she feared, her small bag had been lost in the storm, possibly more. But her timidity at his reaction held her back; she was in no doubt that he would unceremoniously drag her back, and no one would stop him. In truth, she had no knowledge as to the direction of her sister’s manor, only that it was to the east of the harbour where they had landed.

  ‘From your expression, I suspect you are still annoyed with me.’ Talvas pulled on his stallion’s reins to walk his horse beside her. The gleam of his hair, dark as a blackbird’s wing and tousled with sea water, lent him a boyish air. His blue eyes sparkled, teasing her, drawing her under his mesmeric spell. Emmeline jerked her gaze away, fingers attempting to pleat the unyielding leather of her reins in an effort to quell the memory of their last kiss. What in the name of Mary was happening to her?

  ‘Nay, not annoyed, my lord.’ She concentrated on the horizon, a pleasing aspect of rolling hills and woodland, gently sloping down to the river at the bottom of the wide valley. ‘I am eager to visit my sister, that is all.’ And to take myself away from you, she thought, before I do something I regret.

  ‘And tomorrow you shall,’ he replied amiably, ‘and we, too, will part as if we had never met.’

  ‘Life would have been more simple if we had not,’ she answered, not bothering to conceal the frankness in her tone.

  ‘But far less exciting,’ he replied, enigmatically. What in Heaven’s name did he mean by that?

  ‘And I might still have a ship.’ Her shoulders slumped forward slightly.

  ‘You still have a ship, my lady, albeit a little damaged. I will make arrangements to have her towed into the harbour later on today.’

  ‘You don’t have to humour me,’ She replied. ‘I saw the hole in her side.’

  ‘She is not lost, Emmeline.’ Talvas leaned down earnestly, the jewelled hilt of his sword winking in the sunlight that peeked from behind a thick cloud. ‘I have seen far worse damage than that.’

  ‘Don’t give me false hope, my lord.’ Yet a huge sense of relief rose in her chest.

  ‘I wouldn’t do that, my lady. I can see how much that ship means to you.’

  ‘The ship means everything to me,’ She answered him, her eyes scanning the taut, sculptured angles of his face. ‘She is my livelihood, and that of my family. If I lose her, I lose everything.’ She looked down at her hands, quickly, embarrassed by her sudden flow of words.

  ‘Your father designed the ship well. La Belle Saumur will survive.’ Talvas spoke softly, his booted toe grazing Emmeline’s hip as his horse stumbled on a loose stone. A faint blush stole across her cheeks at the contact. He pulled sharply on the reins, drawing the horse away.

  ‘I wish he had,’ Emmeline muttered, almost to herself. ‘Survived, I mean.’ She attempted to clarify her spoken thought.

  ‘I’m sorry. It must have been hard after his death.’

  She clamped her lips together, willing the tears to stay back, not wanting to acknowledge the sympathy in his tone. The plaintive cry of a curlew rent the air, sending a shudder down her spine.

  ‘We managed,’ she replied eventually, trying to keep her tone neutral.

  ‘We managed,’ Talvas mimicked her words. Did he mock her? ‘How you make light of your situation, mam’selle. Why, it’s hard enough in this life for a woman to survive wit
hout a man at her side, let alone to run a merchant ship across the Channel.’

  ‘The Empress seems to survive admirably and she intends to run a country.’

  Talvas gave a snort. ‘She has a retinue of servants in tow, catering to her every need. Look at how Earl Robert attends to her every word.’ he nodded his head in the direction of the cart in which the Empress rode. ‘You would do well to keep away from her, Emmeline.’ His voice held the dark thread of warning.

  ‘Why, now you tell me who my friends can be!’ she protested. ‘I like the Empress; I like her spirit!’

  ‘She sees the same qualities in you,’ Talvas murmured. ‘Just don’t become too close.’

  ‘I heed you, Talvas.’ Emmeline scanned his face, searching for an explanation to his mysterious words. ‘You warn me away from her because you don’t approve of a woman on the throne.’

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Did I say that?’

  ‘You resent any woman’s independence. You condemn her as you condemn me!’

  Leaning over, with a creak of the saddle, he grabbed her reins, pulling her horse to a stop. ‘That’s not the truth, Emmeline and well you know it. You are different, unusual. Your behaviour kicks against the norm, but it cannot be censured. I realise that now. Your behaviour is to be praised.’

  ‘I did what anyone would have done, Talvas, to save the ship.’

  ‘That may be so, but it was still a daring feat.’

  ‘So can you now see that I can take care of myself, that I have no need of a man by my side?’ She wanted him to understand, to realise that her independence was of the utmost importance to her.

  He laughed. ‘Nay, mistress. On that point, I would have to disagree. The way your body responds to me would seem to contradict your speech.’

  Emmeline flushed uncomfortably at the shocking impact of his words, aware that the driver of the ox cart was just behind them. ‘You catch me unawares; take advantage of me,’ she whispered, shakily. ‘There’s little I can do to defend myself in those circumstances.’

  ‘Then I’ll make sure you are well prepared next time.’ His eyes glowed.

  Her mind emptied at the audacity of his words, his sheer temerity, but before she could think of an appropriate riposte, something to put this irritating man in his place, Guillame rode alongside, his youthful face split into a grin. He flicked on the reins, turning his horse to fall into step alongside them.

  ‘Hawkeshayne awaits you, my lord. I have tumbled them out of their beds, and now they rush around in mad preparation.’

  ‘That’s good to hear,’ Talvas replied. ‘I myself am in dire need of a bath, as I’m sure the rest of us are.’ His eyes alighted briefly on Emmeline’s damp form.

  Guillame nodded. ‘The cauldrons of water are set upon the fires as we speak, my lord.’ He glanced at Emmeline. ‘See, my lady, Hawkeshayne is not far now.’ He pointed along the river valley.

  In the distance, emerging from the fluctuating river mists, Emmeline caught her first glimpse of Lord Talvas’s home. The soaring battlements of the castle stood on a natural promontory that jutted out into the wide estuary. Bounded on three sides by the river at high tide and marshy reedbeds at low tide, the only access lay to the east, over a long wooden bridge that linked the castle to a bundle of cottages and huts clustering at the river’s edge.

  ‘I assumed that your home was in Boulogne, my lord,’ Emmeline said, unable to contain an element of curiosity. Besides, she wanted to deflect any further questions from him regarding her own life. ‘I had no idea that you lived in England.’

  ‘William the Conqueror gave the estate to my grandfather, who fought alongside him at Hastings. My father gave it to me when my sister Matilda married William’s nephew, Stephen. I think he realised I would gain more use from it, preferring mastery of the sea to that of the sword.’

  Emmeline nodded, acknowledging the rows of boats hauled up onto the shore line below as the horses turned onto and clattered over a wooden bridge. Soldiers garbed in surcoats of green and gold, the colours of Lord Talvas, stood to attention as they passed beneath the huge archway of the gatehouse. Emmeline caught a glimpse of the elaborate carvings of mythical beasts and birds decorating the upper recessed bands of stonework, the noise of her horse’s hooves echoing in the confined space, before emerging into the daylight of the outer bailey.

  ‘My lord, my lord, it’s so good to have you home again!’ A small, wiry man rushed up to Talvas.

  ‘It’s good to be home, albeit in such unexpected circumstances,’ Talvas pulled off his wide-brimmed leather hat, running his fingers through his hair. The sleek black waves clung to his head, emphasising the corded strength of his neck. Emmeline diverted her eyes to look around her. How strange to see so many men with such long hair, she thought. Despite the Norman invasion of England nearly seventy years previous, it seemed that some of the original Anglo-Saxons refused to adopt the Norman fashions. Most of the men here looked like barbarians!

  Talvas dismounted in one easy movement. ‘How goes it, Waltheof?’ he handed his reins over to a servant, who led the horse away.

  ‘Chambers have been prepared for your guests,’ Waltheof replied. The emphasis on the final word indicated that he had full knowledge that royalty was amongst the party. ‘And here is Bronwen, who will attend the Empress.’ A tall, willowy girl stepped forward to the Empress and curtsied as Maud was helped from her horse. ‘A fire is lit in the great hall and food is already prepared,’ Waltheof continued, puffing his chest out a little in acknowledgement of his own efficiency.

  Talvas placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. ‘You have done well, Waltheof, in such a short time.’

  Earl Robert approached Talvas, drawing him aside and indicating the ox cart. Talvas nodded. ‘I will provide an escort to the abbey in Reading. Let my men break their fast, and then they will be ready to go. Consider it done.’

  Still sitting atop her horse, catching the drift of their murmured whispers, Emmeline seethed. So, he could provide knights to travel alongside a dead body, but he couldn’t perform the same service for her!

  ‘Still wanting to fly, my little bird?’ Talvas approached her in two great strides. ‘You seem a mite reluctant to dismount.’

  ‘I have no desire to stay here, and well you know it.’ She glared down at him, although in truth, she longed for a bath and a change of clean clothes. ‘You can provide an escort for a dead body immediately, but deny me the same!’

  ‘Such ingratitude!’ he replied, a teasing light entering his eyes. ‘You demand much, mam’selle. I have offered to mend your ship, and provide an escort for you on the morrow. Surely one more night is not too onerous?’

  How could she tell him that she dreaded the magnetic pull of his presence, the lack of control in her own behaviour around him? He made her act in a way that perplexed and mystified her, spurring her to such wilful abandonment that she feared her own downfall. She nibbled at her bottom lip, uncertain, shaking her head. ‘I must get away from here. From you!’ In horror, she realised she had spoken the words aloud. His eyes darkened. His hand clamped around her horse’s bridle, drawing the animal, and herself, closer to him.

  ‘Why?’ A thread of steel entered his voice.

  She shook her head, unable, unwilling to answer.

  ‘Are you afeard of what might happen?’ His voice poured over her, full of unspoken promise.

  ‘Afeard?’ she questioned, haltingly. She had to break this mood between them!

  ‘Afeard of me?’

  Perched atop the horse, Emmeline drew her back up straight and faced him, openly hostile. ‘Afeard of you?’ she scoffed. ‘Nay, never, my lord!’

  He grinned suddenly, a devilish taunting smile. The spiralling, mounting tension between them ruptured, suddenly. Relief flooded over her.

  ‘Dangerous words, mam’selle.’ Large hands reached up to encircle her slim waist, lifting her easily from the saddle. Clamped against his broad chest, his saturnine, laughing face just inches from her
own, she regretted her previous taunt. He was too close! She struggled slightly, ineffectually, aware of the muscled bands of his chest pressing through the fragile material of her underdress, heating her skin. Her feet dangled uselessly above the cobbles.

  ‘Art thou afeard?’ he asked again, his arms locking tightly into the small of her back.

  ‘Put me down!’ she demanded fiercely.

  ‘Answer the question, my lady.’

  ‘I have told you “nay”!’ She glared at him, staring into the deep blue of his eyes, the sapphire whirlpool that threatened to drown her, to consume her. His lips moved downwards. ‘My lord, remember where you are!’ she begged him.

  He cursed suddenly, dropping her abruptly on the ground, stepping back. The laughing expression dropped from his face, to be replaced by a blank mask. ‘Forgive me, mam’selle, I forget myself.’

  ‘You have no right to treat me so!’ She told him off, folding her arms defensively in front of her.

  He grimaced. ‘You will be gone on the morrow—’ His voice sounded harsh ‘—then we will be rid of each other for ever.’

  ‘That can only be a blessing,’ she retorted. But her heart felt cold.

  Chapter Ten

  Emmeline emerged tentatively into the great hall, bathed, clothed in fresh dry garments and feeling infinitely revived. It was not long after the four o’clock bell, yet with the lowering skies, darkness had fallen early on this midwinter day. Huge rush torches slung into iron sconces lit up the high chamber in a blaze of light and a substantial fireplace threw out welcoming draughts of heat. Intricate tapestries woven in bright reds, blues and greens hung from the wooden rafters above to the stone flagstones below. A haze of woodsmoke hung over the room, where rows of laughing peasants, knights and servants crowded onto the trestle tables, banging and clattering with their platters and tankards. Emmeline wondered where she was expected to sit—up at the top table where she could see the Empress, Talvas and the Earl Robert seated already, or down in the mêleé amongst the lower-ranking knights and villagers who worked for the estate.

 

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