Beloved Abductor (10 page)

Edmund dismounted, his eyes fixed upon her set, white face. She came down from the horse, not seeing the hand he held up to her, and she walked from him to the husk of what had once been her home.

‘At least you can be thankful that you were not inside it!’ Edmund exclaimed, poking the charred remains of a bench with the toe of his boot.

‘You will be able to rebuild,’ said Dickon, coming to stand next to them. ‘It will take time, of course.’

‘Do I not know it!’ said Felicia bitterly. ‘And, in the meantime, I am defenceless.’

‘There is the keep,’ said Dickon. ‘That, at least, seems intact.’ The three of them turned and looked towards the stone tower. It was clad in newly burgeoning creeper, which curled crisp and brown in places, scorched by the heat of the fire.

‘Perhaps you will be able to make it habitable until you can rebuild the house?’ Dickon leapt over a pile of stones and walked towards the keep.

‘It would be spartan,’ said Edmund, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully, ‘but maybe Dickon is right.’ He glanced into Felicia’s drawn features. ‘What did it contain?’

‘Most likely stores. It is a year since I was last here.’ She sighed deeply. ‘The door is on the other side. It might be locked, but Ralph, my bailiff, would have the key.’

She began to walk slowly in Dickon’s wake, he had already disappeared round the corner. Edmund set his pace to hers and walked by her side, looking grim. Barely had they skirted the corner than they heard a piercing scream, then another, and another. Felicia’s startled eyes met Edmund’s, and he seized her hand and both broke into a run. The door, like the gate, had been battered down and hung tipsily on broken hinges. Sacks near the doorway had been slashed, and grain flooded the floor in gleaming gold hummocks. They crossed the threshold out of the sunlight and into the dimness of the tower’s interior. They could hear a girl sobbing uncontrollably.

Dickon turned to them. His long face was taut and concerned. ‘I told her that she has nothing to fear from me,’ he said. ‘That I am a friend to you, Mistress Felicia, but she does not heed me.’

Edmund’s grip on Felicia’s hand tightened as they saw the girl huddled on the floor in a far corner. Her face was hidden by a tangle of hair that gleamed barley-white.

‘Joan?’ The name came out in a barely whispered breath. All Felicia’s forebodings were crowding into her mind as there came no pause in the weeping. She darted across the room and knelt in the dust, putting an arm about the girl’s quivering shoulders. ‘Joan! ‘Tis I, Flissie, sweeting! Do stop crying, I beg you! I can’t bear it.’

There came a break in the sobbing, and the girl lifted her head. She pushed aside her long fair tresses with a trembling hand, and stared intently into Felicia’s face. Tears formed furrows in the dirt on her cheeks, and a mouth that normally tilted prettily upwards was dragged down by the weight of her private sorrow. ‘It is you, Flissie!’ she murmured. ‘But you have come several days too late. Why could you not have agreed to marry Philip?’ Her mouth quivered. ‘Then he would not have come seeking you here and found me instead!’ She banged her fist against her breast. ‘I have heard of such acts performed by beasts like Philip. But never did I think it would happen to me! Do you understand what I am saying, Flissie? You are to blame for what happened to me.’

Dickon made a move forward, but Edmund held him back as he watched horror darken Felicia’s eyes. ‘No! How could I know that he would treat you so cruelly? I would rather have died than have you take my place.’ Her voice broke, and she flung her arms about Joan and began to weep.

Chapter Seven

‘How I wish I had stabbed him in the heart with my scissors!’ Felicia leaned back against the stone wall and her eyes were a hard cerulean blue. Edmund drew in a sharp breath at the expression on her face. She seemed to have aged during the last emotional stormy hour whilst he was absent from the tower.

‘Well, you did not, so there is no use in saying it! There is no use in anything now.’ Joan groaned and closed her eyes, resting her head on her hand.

‘There is revenge,’ murmured Dickon in a dreamy voice. ‘A swift slash of a sword-blade, and that’s the end!’ He gazed at Joan from his perch on a collapsed sack of grain.

Joan lifted her head and considered him dispassionately. He hardly seemed her idea of a fighting man, dressed like a merchant in dark blue. ‘It is all right for you to say that! How can you, a man, know how I feel?’ She pushed aside a great handful of hair and sat up straighter. ‘Who are you, anyway? You have sat here an age, witnessing my distress, without speaking a word. And now you speak of revenge—which you look unable to carry out!’

A flicker of annoyance creased Dickon’s face, and he rose to his feet and bowed. ‘I am Richard Mortimer, a wool-merchant from Shrewsbury. Unlikely champion I might look but appearances can be deceptive. I have often had to fight my way out of trouble.’

Felicia regarded him in surprise, and could not resist glancing at Edmund. She saw his lips twitch and their eyes met. She remembered him saying that Dickon knew exactly how to woo a lady. Well, she wished Dickon good fortune where Joan was concerned but doubted he would succeed whilst her cousin still suffered so sorely.

‘Be that as it may, Master Mortimer,’ said Joan. ‘This is hardly your fight! I would that you stay out of my affairs. I do not know you, so why should I have faith in you? Men! They are not to be trusted.’

‘That is unfair!’ blurted out Felicia.

‘Of course, you would deny it,’ muttered Joan. ‘I have seen the way these men look at you. You have it all, whilst I…’

‘You have my sympathy, Mistress Joan, for what has befallen you’ interrupted Edmund, rising and stretching, ‘but do not tar Dickon or myself with the same brush as Philip Meriet.’

‘Flissie! Who is this man?’ Joan scrambled to her feet and glared at Edmund. ‘Why have you brought him here?’

Edmund frowned. ‘Earlier you blamed Mistress Felicia for escaping Philip Meriet and for his treatment of you. She is not at fault. I took her from him. I sought revenge and blamed her for his filthy acts. I was wrong, just as you are.’

Felicia stared at him in amazement; she had not expected such an admission from him in company.

Joan flushed beneath the dirt on her face. ‘So you are not the lover that Philip raged about?’

Felicia felt warmth flood her cheeks as the words seemed to vibrate in the silence. ‘Don’t be foolish, Joan!’ she said sharply. ‘I have no lover! It was all in Philip’s imagination.’

‘Philip Meriet is responsible for the death of Edmund’s mother,‘ said Dickon. ‘As well as the deaths of his ...’

‘That’s enough, Dickon,’ interrupted Edmund in a rough voice. ‘Let us all agree that it is time justice caught up with Philip Meriet. Now I suggest we leave.’

‘You are going?’ Felicia stood up hastily ‘I regret that I can offer you little in the way of hospitality but...’

Joan laughed. ‘You would have difficulty finding food, Flissie, or beds for the night.’

‘It does not matter,’ said Edmund abruptly. ‘It would not be the first time we have gone without. But perhaps we could delay and go hunting and leave at first light.’

Felicia’s face lit up. ‘I would appreciate your doing so.’

‘Then that is what we will do,’ he said.

She went with him from the keep. Dickon followed with Joan bringing up the rear.

It was several hours later and a fire had been lit. The wood crackled, sending sparks flying high against the darkening sky. The heat of the fire was welcome, as was the smell of the roasting meat. Felicia stole a glance at Edmund, noticing how the flames highlighted the grooves in his cheeks, altering the shape of his face, so that he appeared almost a stranger. He seemed relaxed as he turned the boar. As though sensing she watched him, he lifted his head and their eyes met and her breath caught in her throat.

‘It won’t be long now,’ he said.

She cleared her throat. ‘I thought that Ralph, my bailiff, might have come by now. Perhaps I should go to the village?’

‘He could be out on the hills. It is a busy time for a bailiff: soon it will be haymaking, and then sheep-shearing,’ said Edmund, lowering his gaze.

‘You seem to know much about manor life,’ she said lightly.

‘I was reared on Sir Gervaise’s manor and he made sure I was of some use to him before I left to pursue my studies.’ He prodded the meat again, this time with his fingers. He blew on them hastily. ‘I think it is done.’ Quickly he removed the boar from the flames.

Felicia turned and called Dickon. He rose swiftly from the broken wall he had been sitting on, strumming his lute.

‘It smells good,’ he murmured, moving closer to the fire and placing himself near Joan, who shifted slightly away from him. He smiled at Felicia. ‘It is a pity we have no bread or ale.’

‘Do not give up hope yet. Word will have spread that we are here,’ said Edmund, taking his knife from his girdle and slicing the meat. He offered a chunk to Felicia. She smiled her thanks, taking it from the point of the blade with her fingers. At that moment a rumbling sound broke the evening calm, and the four looked towards the gatehouse.

Felicia scrambled to her feet as three figures came into view. Two were only lads, pushing a small cart laden with goods, who were being encouraged to strain a little harder by the man who walked with majestic ease by their side. They all came to a halt in front of her.

‘My lady,’ gasped Ralph, breathing heavily, his pendulous jowls wobbling. ‘Tis good to see you home.’ He doffed his cap and bowed, showing a bald pate. ‘Alas! It is a sad homecoming for you.’ He appeared distressed as he met Felicia’s appraising gaze. ‘We did what we could but that was not much, I grant you. We were unprepared and your cousin had many armed men.’

‘I do not blame you, Ralph,’ she said.

Relief brightened his plump face. ‘God bless you, my lady.’ He fell on his knees and kissed the hem of Felicia’s skirt before bumbling to his feet again. ‘In all the years I was your father’s bailiff, such a thing never happened.’

‘Pray God, it will not happen again. But tell me, what was the message that took Sir William to Ludlow?’

Ralph scratched his nose and shifted from one foot to the other. ‘It concerned the uprising. The Lord Edward was said to be there and calling on those who aided his father’s cause last year. Sir William went off like an arrow, not knowing what would happen here. We had not heard from you since you went away, and often we wondered if you received the messages sent to you.’

‘Messages? I received no messages and it is obvious to me now that you did not receive mine.’ She continued, with a bitter laugh, ‘How foolish of me to believe that Philip would despatch them to Sir William. Instead, no doubt my cousin read them before destroying them.’

Ralph said angrily. ‘No doubt you did not receive the money sent to you, either! Sir William entrusted it to two of our most reliable men, and they said they delivered it.’

Felicia shook her head, and tears glistened in her eyes.

‘God’s bones, my lady, I do not know what to comfort you with. Your cousin smashed the log and took all that there was in the chest in the hall, too. There is no money to support you until the sheep are sheared and the wool sold.’ He dropped his voice. ‘I even fear then that could be taken. I deem it possible that your cousin has left spies in the vicinity. Strangers have been seen, and I was fair worried about Mistress Joan wandering alone in the woods.’

‘They could be common outlaws,’ said Felicia, a chill shivering down her spine. She glanced towards Edmund, who was close enough to hear the conversation.

He turned to Ralph. ‘What about a decent house for your lady that would suffice her and her cousin? The keep is hardly suitable.’

Ralph scratched his head. ‘Perhaps I can think on the matter, sir, while we unload the food. I shall have these scamps of mine set to it. My wife has sent some bread, and the priest gave me eggs for you, my lady. There are a few pots and platters, cups and spoons, and a couple of pallets and several blankets ... Oh! Agnes sent you some of the ale she has been brewing.’

‘Thank them for me, Ralph.’ His words made her extremely anxious.

‘Perhaps you should leave this place,’ Edmund, helping the lads to unload the cart.

Ralph’s lips pursed. ‘What about Chipbury, my lady?’

‘Chipbury!’ she exclaimed. ‘The very place! But how shall my cousin and I reach there? It is some distance away and you will have to stay here, Ralph.’

‘Where is Chipbury?’ asked Edmund, taking a rolled pallet from the cart and tossing it into Dickon’s outstretched arms.

‘Gloucestershire,’ answered Felicia. ‘It is smaller than Meriet; we grow fruit trees and vines there.’

Edmund and Dickon exchanged glances.

‘We could escort you to Chipbury,’ murmured Edmund, watching Felicia’s face.

‘But what of your desire for revenge on my cousin and your search for the Lord Edward?’

Edmund shrugged his shoulders. ‘The prince might have already left Ludlow. Besides, I intended to visit my uncle first. He keeps his ear firmly to the ground and could be in possession of more information about the conflict.’

‘I would not delay you by taking you out of your way.’

‘Do you wish us to accompany you or not?’ asked Edmund, sounding exasperated.

She flushed. ‘Aye! Why not?’

‘It is settled, then,’ muttered Joan, who had been listening avidly, despite appearances to the contrary. ‘I cannot deny that I shall be glad to leave here. And if Felicia trusts you both, I suppose I must also,’ she added with a deep sigh.

Edmund lifted a pallet onto his shoulder. ‘We will take pallets inside for you and Mistress Joan. Dickon and I shall sleep out here.’

The light was fading by the time they finished eating, and the scent of honeysuckle sweetened the air. Although there was a chill in the breeze, Felicia was reluctant to go inside the keep. She felt a surge of guilt as she glanced at Joan. What if a child resulted from Philip’s despoiling of her cousin? She sighed, and pillowed her chin on her hunched-up knees, gazing into the slumbering fire.

‘More ale?’ Edmund held out a horn and she watched the liquid gleam in the firelight as he poured it from the pitcher. ‘We shall have to make an early start in the morning,’ he added. ‘Best you do not ride too long at a stretch, for it is only just over a week since you hurt your back. Do you feel any discomfort from the journey today?’ He picked up his own horn and saluted her with it.

She responded in like-manner and took a sip of the refreshing ale. ‘A little.’ She felt strangely shy of him. ‘Master Edmund, a thought bothers me. If we are to stay at the monastery where I remember now you mentioned your uncle is abbot…I have little money, only a few pence, and ...’ Her voice trailed off, and she flushed. She could hear the popping of a flame as Dickon threw on more wood.

‘We shall stay only one night, and then be on our way to Chipbury, so do not fret yourself,’ said Edmund.

She raised her eyebrows. ‘But I can’t help doing so. I will recompense you when I am in funds again.’

He frowned. ‘If that is what you wish, but am I not enjoying your hospitality right now?’

‘The ground is a hard bed,’ she said lightly.

‘I have slept in worse places,’ he murmured. ‘Now let us not concern ourselves about money any further.’

She fell silent, trying not to worry as the light died from the sky and the stars pricked on one by one. Her cousin sat silent, seeming to brood like some great night-bird, and Felicia felt her peace evaporate as she caught Joan’s eyes on her.

‘I want to go to bed, Flissie. Are you coming?’ Joan uncurled abruptly and stood up.

‘Of course.’ Felicia placed the horn on the grass and scrambled to her feet. ‘Where have you slept the last few nights?’

‘Slept! I have not slept!’ Joan gave a mirthless laugh. ‘I have spent the nights in the keep. It is not so bad, if you do not mind the vermin.’

‘Vermin!’ Felicia’s voice trembled and her fingers curled tightly in her palms.

Joan laughed. ‘You must not fear mice. They are interested only in food. Come let us go inside.’ She put her hand through Felicia’s arm. ‘Perhaps with you to keep me company, I will sleep this night.’

Felicia bid the men a goodnight and went with her cousin.

The interior of the keep seemed pitch black after the firelight outside and Felicia’s heart sank. It was a far cry from the solar that had graced Meriet’s manor house and been so comfortable.

Joan shook out a blanket and wrapped it about her slender figure before lying down. ‘Once your eyes become accustomed, you’ll realise some light always comes through the doorway.’ She flicked a nervous glance towards where the door hung on its hinges. ‘I suppose we are safe in here, Flissie?’