His Rival's Daughter (Stafford Family Book 1)

by Catherine Woodville

  Jane could not tell how much time had passed until she felt something moving down her belly.

  “What is it?” she asked, staring into the air, her voice thin.

  “Do not worry,” the woman said. “’Tis the baby coming.”

  These words made Jane draw a sigh of relief. A sharp pain cut through her body and everything was over in an instant.

  “Good girl,” the woman said and pulled Jane’s legs apart.

  The baby was gone. She did not care what the woman would do next.

  Meanwhile, the old woman took the remains and cleaned Jane’s legs of blood. “Do you want to take a look at him?”

  “No,” Jane shook her head. The child had been just a bad dream, she told herself. That’s how she would remember him.

  Matilda wrapped the tiny body in the cloths. “You will bleed for several days. You need to make sure no one sees it. When strength returns to you – go and put some clean clothes on. ‘Tis time for me to leave.”

  “I will call you if I need you,” Jane said, too weak to move. Still lying on the bed, she watched the woman leave through a secret passage.

  When the witch was gone, Jane smiled with relief. The torture was over.

  Slowly, she got up, every move causing great pain in her body, and pulled a clean duvet over the blood-stained sheets. A strong feeling of dizziness kept her on the bed for some time. Fighting it back, Jane eventually found strength to get up to her feet and walk to the wardrobe.

  Fast, heavy footsteps approached the door to her chamber. The earl.

  Grave fear squeezed her heart. Harmton could not see the blood on her chemise. Anyone but him. Quickly, she pulled the first blanket she could reach and wrapped it around her body, covering the blood stains on her.

  The door slammed open, making her jump, and a drunk Harmton appeared in the portal. His eyes peered at her with hardly hidden hatred.

  He stumbled heavily into the room, his intense stare on her.

  When he spoke, Jane wished she wasn’t there. She was doomed.

  “I was told that you are with child, my lovely lady,” a mocking smile played on his lips, but his eyes were as dark as a stormy night.

  “’Tis not true,” she said, stepping back, her eyes wide with fear.

  “Quiet!” his roar filled the chamber.

  Jane held her breath, thinking frantically about escape. But she could think of nothing. He was blocking her way out. Even if she ran to the secret door, her husband would have time to catch her. And he would kill her, for sure. No one would come to her rescue.

  “Did you really think that you could hide anything from me? ‘Tis my castle! I am the lord here and if a slut like you is with child, you cannot hide it from me.”

  Suddenly, he reached Jane and grabbed her throat with his large hand. One more move and she would be dead. He looked at her as if he saw her for the first time. “When I married you, I thought I married the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. But in truth,” he grinned, “I married a slut who spreads her legs wide for everyone who desires her.”

  Harmton lifted her slightly above the floor. Jane released the blanket and dug her fingers into his hand to ease the pressure of his grasp on her throat.

  “I am not a…” she whispered although her voice could be barely heard.

  “Do you think I am a fool to believe that you are innocent and the bastard in your womb is my child? I haven’t bedded you for a long time, how could I make this child?” he tightened his lips. “You will lose your bastard, even if I have to slay you. My wife will not bear a child from another man,” he said through clenched teeth.

  He threw her to the floor. Jane landed on the stone, her entire body aching from the fall.

  “Oh, look,” the earl moved his eyes to the blood on the chemise and a cruel smile appeared on his face, “it seems the bastard is coming out. Let me help you,” he said and kicked Jane in the stomach as hard as he could.

  A wave of pain ran through her body. Jane gasped, as a sharp pain made it almost impossible to breath. Another kick made her almost lose consciousness.

  “Stop it,” she gasped when another kick hit her in the chest.

  “No, my dear wife, I will not,” he cried. “I need to make sure that the bastard is dead.”

  “He is dead,” she said, hardly realising what was happening. The pain was so intense that Jane would say anything just to stop it. “I had a miscarriage. It could have been yours! I haven’t had my womanly bleeding since we married.”

  He stopped. He kneeled by her side, grabbed her hair and lifted her head. “Why should I believe you?”

  The heavy smell of wine hit her nose. He was too drunk to understand what Jane was trying to say.

  “Look at the bed,” she pointed to the bed behind her. “Take off the duvet and you will see everything yourself. I was bleeding when you came. You have wished death to your own son, and he has died, but now I will probably never be able to have another.”

  Harmton paused his abuse and lifted her up. “Walk,” he commanded and pulled her to the bed.

  Jane obeyed, although each step she made caused a great deal of pain.

  When they finally reached the bed, the man threw all of the duvets to the floor, until only sheets remained, and the blood stain was clearly visible. He watched it for some time, a satisfactory smile playing on his lips. “Look, you did not lie to me this time.”

  “Let me go,” Jane begged him, a sob escaping.

  “No,” he moved his cold eyes to her. “Who told you that I would spare your life?” a violent smile crossed his face. “You will not live past this night. I prefer to be a widower than married to a slut.”

  Suddenly, he threw Jane on the bed and mounted on top of her. The weight of his body made it hard to breathe. She tried to throw him off, but with no luck.

  Harmton grabbed both of her hands and pulled them above her head, where he held them tight with one hand.

  “Help me,” Jane wheezed, unable to cry.

  Dreadful laughter filled the room. “What a silly wench you are. Do you really think that someone will go against me?” With a free hand her husband grabbed her throat. “My dear,” he said mockingly, “will you tell me who is the father of your child?”

  Jane’s eyes were full of fear and tears when she looked into the hated face. The end was so close, but she did not want to die. She wanted to escape death, but could not think how.

  The hand on her throat tightened. Slowly, everything around her darkened and Jane started diving into unconsciousness.

  Suddenly, something pulled the hated earl away from Jane. Fresh air instantly filled her lungs and her vision cleared. She coughed and took a deep breath. When she was able to breathe normally again, she turned on her side and saw Edward fighting his father. A glint of happiness illuminated her soul.

  Both men withdrew their swords and stood there, son against father. Harmton was still drunk, but the adrenalin of the fight was sobering him up. He grinned at Edward.

  “Now I see who the bastard’s father is.” He spat. “How dare you take your father’s woman?”

  “I love her,” Edward said in a calm voice, “and I will not allow anyone to hurt her.”

  The earl laughed. “I already hurt her, lad.”

  The tears had dried on Jane’s face and she no longer trembled with fear. She was safe. But she would not leave her husband alive. No. he did not deserve to live.

  She needed tears. A lot of them. without another thought, Jane hit herself in the stomach. The pain was so intense tears immediately filled her eyes. Exactly what she needed. “He killed our child,” she sobbed and fell to the bed, covering her face.

  Anger swept over Edward and a cry of fury shattered the air. Edward attacked his father with unexpected brutality. The merciless fight began.

  “Do you really believe her?” The earl repelled countless attacks. He tried to attack Edward but was too drunk to do any harm to his son.

  Edward did not answer. At moments
it seemed that he did not hear anything at all. He was like a bloodthirsty beast; whose only goal was to kill his enemy.

  Unlike him, Harmton was scared. He defended himself, trying to protect his life. He would never win against this younger, sober opponent.

  “It was her. She got rid of the child.” he shouted, but Edward wouldn’t listen.

  Good. Jane watched the men with cruel indifference. Edward had been totally blinded by his love. He would never believe anything bad about her, even if it was the truth. The drama in front of her eyes brought her so much pleasure, that she forgot about her own pain for some time.

  Repelling attacks, the older man slowly moved to the open door and then to the stairs, every attack bringing him closer to escape.

  They moved to the stairs and Jane could not see them anymore. All she heard was their swords clashing. Suddenly, Harmton cried out, and something fell down the stairs. She held her breath, praying that it wasn’t Edward. A few moments later, Edward returned to the chamber, his face pale. “I have avenged our child,” he said as he entered and went straight to Jane. “He is dead.”

  Jane wanted to say something, but she was too weak to speak. She faintly smiled and darkness began to take her into its arms.

  Chapter Twelve

  Edward was sitting by Jane’s bed, thinking only of her. He had completely lost any sense of time. Life did not interest him any longer. It was almost over. He had lost his child and Jane’s life was at risk. If she died, he would not forgive himself. The dim light of a new dawn lit the chamber. Edward looked at the pale face of the woman he loved.

  “Please,” he begged, kissing a pale palm, “wake up, Jane.”

  The door slowly opened, and Matilda entered the chamber.

  “My lord,” the woman said in a low voice, “you need to go down and eat. You cannot stay here all the time.”

  “I have to be here if she wakes up,” he said quietly.

  For the entire time since the death of his father, Matilda had been the only person Edward wanted to talk to. He had heard a lot of rumours about this woman. Some had called her a witch, but Edward did not care who she was, if she was trying to save Jane’s life.

  “The danger is almost over, my lord,” she insisted. “If you continue like this you will die before she gets better.” She walked to the bed and took Edward’s hands in her wrinkled ones. “Believe this old woman, you need to think about yourself, too. I will take care of her while you are eating.”

  “Maybe you are right,” Edward said, rubbing his tired eyes. He rose and slowly went out of the chamber. It had been almost a week since he stopped properly eating and sleeping. The entire world meant nothing to him now. He had inherited his father’s estate and was the lord of these lands now. He had to behave as a leader. But he couldn’t.

  Edward went to the great hall and let the servants bring him some food and ale. To his surprise, he was not hungry. And he did not taste the food, either. Still, he forced himself to eat. Matilda was right. He had to be alive when Jane got better.

  Suddenly, in the middle of the meal, a man entered. He looked filthy and covered with dust.

  “My lord,” he said with a bow and walked to Edward. “I have a letter from your sister, lady Elizabeth Stafford.”

  Edward lifted his hand and reached for the letter. Elizabeth’s name, pronounced by this young lad, brought Edward back to life. He broke the seal, opened the letter, and quickly ran his eyes over it. There was nothing important. Still, he was happy to receive it.

  Edward looked at the lad who brought the letter. “I will give you a letter for my sister.”

  ***

  William woke early in the morning. His beautiful wife was peacefully sleeping next to him. The rising sun stroked her beautiful face with the softest morning light, yet licked her ginger hair with tongues of fire. William could not resist placing his lips to her full tender ones. They were as warm and soft as the light illuminating them, and he felt it radiate through him in waves of pleasure unlike anything he’d ever known.

  Elizabeth moaned under his kiss and turned to embrace him fully. Her nipples tightened to hard points against his chest and the spark of early morning lust ignited his passion to an eager flame.

  William groaned with his rising passion, knowing he should allow her time to catch up. “What are you doing to me, wife?”

  She smiled; her eyes still closed.

  He kissed her chin, then her neck, and Elizabeth curved her neck to allow him more places to explore with his lips. William understood the invitation and his hand slipped down under the duvet, caressing Elizabeth’s naked body.

  A knock at the door interrupted them.

  “Who’s there?” William groaned. Why could servants not leave him and his wife alone at this early hour?

  Elizabeth’s eyes flew open and she hid under the duvet when the door began to open.

  “My lord, my lady,” Hildred entered the chamber with an apologetic mien. “Sir Edward de Vere sent you a letter,” she walked and handed the letter to Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth dismissed Hildred, then broke the seal and scanned the lines on the parchment.

  William got out of the bed and started getting dressed. “Will you help me, lass?” he asked half joking, but Elizabeth did not answer. He threw a look at her – she was pale, her face very serious. “What is it?” he asked, concern written in the narrowing of his eyes.

  “My father is dead,” Elizabeth said, and looked up at William. “He fell down the stairs and broke his neck.”

  William knew too well what a bastard Harmton had been. Was Elizabeth pale because the news caused her sorrow or relief?

  “Is that it?” he asked, trying to find the reason for such behaviour.

  Elizabeth put the letter on her knees and lowered her eyes. “He also writes that Jane is very ill. My father caused her to have a miscarriage and now she is dying,” there were tears in her voice. “Edward asks us to visit him.”

  William turned away. He would not show Elizabeth how much the news hurt him. His Jane, the woman he loved more than anything, was on her death bed.

  “We have to go,” he said, his voice breaking despite his effort to hide his turmoil from his wife. His hands started shaking, and his fingers did not cooperate when he was trying to put on his clothes.

  Elizabeth got out of the bed. “Let me help you,” she came closer to him and took his shirt out of his hands. To William’s surprise, she was calm. She knew about his feelings for Jane, so why didn’t she object to going to Harmton castle?

  William watched Elizabeth closely. Not a muscle moved on her face while she was dressing him. There was nothing unusual about her other than that she was pale.

  “When are we going there?” she asked quietly.

  “On the morrow. I need to make some arrangements before we go – who knows how long we will stay there?”

  It seemed that Elizabeth didn’t like his words, but she showed no emotion. Besides, William did not care whether she liked it or not. William could live apart from Jane when he knew that she was well, but now, when she was dying, he wanted to spend every moment that remained close to her.

  “Order Hildred to pack your clothes,” he said abruptly, and strode out of the chamber without a backward glance.

  When William entered the solar, he was able to free the rage and frustration that rose in him. Finally. He grabbed the first thing that his hands could reach. A candlestick. William grabbed it and threw it to the heath. The sound of iron hitting a stone wall calmed him down a bit and William stormed down to the great hall.

  “Stephen! James!” he cried as he walked through the great hall to the entrance, but no one answered. Only a young servant was in a corner at the hearth, doing some work. “Hey, you,” William called, and the lad lifted his eyes. “Find my brothers and tell them that I will be waiting for them in the study. And tell someone to bring me some wine.”

  The lad nodded and stormed out of the great hall to fulfil the orders. William
walked to the study, slightly calmer than before. When he was alone, he sank in the chair, closed his eyes, and allowed himself to grieve.

  How could that happen? What had Harmton done to Jane to make her lose a child? William wanted to kill the bastard, but the man was already dead. The Lord paid him what he deserved, William thought, and one corner of his mouth turned up in chagrin.

  He had not heard a sound, but when he opened his eyes, he saw a goblet of wine on the table. William took a large gulp. He wanted to get drunk today and forget what was going on in his life.

  “Look,” James grinned, entering, “Our eldest brother called for us because he doesn’t want to drink alone.”

  William smiled faintly instead of answering.

  “What happened?” Stephen asked when he was inside.

  “Jane is dying.”

  The grins stopped immediately.

  “What?” James asked.

  William was glad that James’s usual grin was gone. It turned out that his brother had a heart after all.

  “I don’t know,” William said. “A letter arrived from Harmton castle. Harmton is dead and Jane is dying.”

  Stephen whistled and folded his arms on his chest. “Does Elizabeth know?”

  “Yes. We are travelling to Harmton castle tomorrow morning. That’s why you are here,” William rose from behind the table. “I need one of you to stay here to guard the castle. The other one will go with me in case there is a trap somewhere along the way. We should not forget about Humphrey. He might use the chance to ambush us when we are on the way to Edward.”

  “True,” Stephen said. “I doubt that he will let such a good opportunity to get rid of you pass, Will.”

  “Which of you will stay here?” William asked and looked at his brothers, one at a time. “You are the only people I can trust.”

  Stephen looked at James, then at William. “I want to stay. I have never liked that place very much. Besides, I am next in line. With the continued threat of your death at Humphrey’s hands, ‘tis logical for me to remain.”

  ***