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Authors: June Francis

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BOOK: Beloved Abductor
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‘Ruffian, brother?’ Nell sounded half annoyed, half amused. ‘It must be the company he keeps. Sam—and all those brothers of his.’

‘Sam is a good lad,’ said Edmund, slanting Nell a frowning glance.

‘Aye, he would have gone to Harry’s aid,’ put in Felicia.

‘Sam can swim, Mother,’ said Harry, poking his head out from beneath folds of rough linen. ‘He is my friend, and I intend to stay his friend.’ His mouth set mutinously.

‘I can see you are all against me!’ Nell looked annoyed. Then she looked at her son and laughed unexpectedly. ‘I understand. I do not forget what bonds of friendship boys forge. It was so with Dickon, Edmund and Steven. Always they defended each other.’ It seemed to Felicia that she would have said more as she gazed about the circle of faces. ‘But what am I thinking of—talking so at such a time as this. Edmund, shoo! Dickon, as soon as Harry is dressed for bed, you will carry him up for me. I do not want him overtaxing his strength.’

Harry let out a groan, but his mother only gave him a loving hug. ‘If we do not hurry. Mistress Meriet will be spending several more days in bed instead of going home. So let us move.’

Harry, Edmund and Dickon moved.

It was hot in the fragrant water. Felicia sighed in sheer pleasure, and held up a glistening shapely leg above the surface. It did not hurt, and she felt as if suddenly she had come through a baptism and was cleansed. The firelight made the water appear to be shot through with yellow and silver. Beyond the screens the candles glowed softly, and there seemed to be a kind of enchantment about bathing in such a light. But it was getting late.

She stood up and began to squeeze water from her long dark hair. Nell had gone to fetch her a clean gown. Her own having been washed in the tub, Mary had hung it out in the warm night air. Felicia was so intent on seeing to her hair that she did not hear the soft tread of feet on the rushes beyond the screens. She reached out to take one of the linen cloths that Nell had left, and swung her hair down in front of her face. Carefully she gathered all the strands together in its folds before twisting it and wrapping it about her head. It was then she saw the feet and raised her eyes in disbelief.

She blushed, and the heat of it seemed to stretch from the roots of her hair to her toes as Edmund gazed at her naked form. She could only stare at him.

‘I always wanted to meet a mermaid!’ His voice was barely audible. ‘But you will catch cold if you stand like that much longer.’

He moved forward and picked up the other drying cloth. Before she could protest, he shook it open and held it out in front of her, shielding her from his eyes. As though in a dream, she climbed out of the tub. He wrapped the cloth about her body and began to rub her vigorously.

Her heart began to hammer. His harsh caress with the towel had set her skin tingling, filling her with excitement. ‘No, please!’ she whispered, lowering her arms and clutching the drying cloth with trembling fingers.

He stopped, but still he held her between his hands, and she was instantly aware that he was trembling too. He pressed his lips against her bare shoulder, bringing her body closer to his with compelling hands.

‘No!’ she said weakly, even as she lifted her mouth to his kiss.

His lips fastened possessively over hers with a hungry fierceness that set her blood on fire. Their lips parted only to be drawn irresistibly together again. Felicia knew that she should try to stop him, to struggle, but it was as if her body was no longer under her control. It seemed to have a life of its own, wanting to reach out to the vitality that was so much a part of this man, and join with him. Her body arched against his, and he lifted her off her feet and buried his head between her breasts, murmuring unintelligible words against her sweet-smelling, still damp skin. Her arms went round him, and with one hand she caressed the nape of his neck beneath the newly trimmed hair. She could not understand her yearning for him. She longed for him to not only make love to her, but to love her as she loved him. No! That was impossible! She could not love him! She moaned as he caressed her taut nipples with warm, searching fingers. The towel had slipped from her hair, sending damp tendrils cascading about her shoulders. Wet! a voice said in her head. Her hair was wet from being in the tub after rescuing Harry! Harry! Nell! What if Nell returned now with her gown? By all the saints in heaven, what was she doing in Edmund’s arms without a stitch on? The thought caused heat to sear her body, even as Edmund’s mouth found hers again. Dear God, why did she want him so? Her lips clung to his briefly before she wrenched herself out of his grasp.

She made a hasty grab for the towel, which had slipped to the floor. Her face was aflame, and she looked anywhere but at him as she wrapped the cloth round her nakedness. ‘Felicia!’ His harsh voice contained a note of entreaty as he stepped towards her and his breath came unevenly as he reached out for her.

She gazed up into his burning eyes and was frightened of her own responding wave of desire. She backed away from him, pressing against the wooden tub. ‘No! You mustn’t touch me!’

He stared at her dully, running a hand repeatedly through his hair. ‘You can say that, after ...’

‘You should not have stayed. Go now. If Dickon or Nell ...’ The words faltered on her lips at the expression on his face. She turned from him and went over to the fire, staring unseeingly into its golden heart.

‘Damn you, for the cold-hearted wanton you must be!’ Edmund exclaimed in a seething voice before turning on his heel.

The shock of his words caused her head to shoot up, and she wanted to call him back, to deny his accusation, to explain her fears and to be held in his arms once more, but her affronted pride caused the words to die even as the door opened and shut behind him. Tears pricked her eyes, and she felt desolate. Then she bent to pick up the other towel that had fallen, and sank on a stool to rub her hair, holding her head near the fire, trying not to dwell on what had taken place between them.

It seemed a long time before the quick patter of Nell’s feet came into the hall. ‘I beg your pardon for being so long,’ she said, slightly breathless. ‘Harry was not in his bed, but looking out of the window. Then I met Edmund and Dickon in the garden, so I paused to have word with them.’ She handed a gown to Felicia, who took it with a murmur of thanks. It had white daisies worked at the hem and neck, and its long yellow sleeves were tight fitting. Felicia shrugged herself into it, shivering slightly.

Nell frowned. ‘I do hope you haven’t caught a chill? Edmund said he can delay no longer but must be on his way in the morning.’ She looked pensive. ‘Dickon offered to take you to Meriet, if Edmund wanted to go on ahead and you were not fit, but Edmund said in such a strange angry voice that he had charge of you and would see you safely to your manor.’ She glanced at Felicia, and smiled. ‘I think he is cross with you because you did not let him know that you had improved so much, and he could have been away earlier.’

‘I suppose so,’ murmured Felicia, feeling cold as ice at the thought of Nell’s reaction if she had come into the hall earlier.

‘I shall take these towels to Mary,’ said Nell with a slightly worried frown. ‘Do not wait for me, but go up to bed if you wish. Mary shall bring us both a goblet of wine, and we shall drink each other’s health.’ She disappeared behind the screens with a whisper of skirts.

Felicia continued to comb her damp hair before braiding it. Then she slipped her feet inside the pair of soft leather slippers Nell had left by the fire. Her own shoes she had left on the river bank, and Sam must not have thought to pick them up. She rose to her feet and, feeling slightly apprehensive, walked to the back of the hall, hoping not to bump into Edmund. She felt unbearably weary.

Dickon came towards her as soon as she stepped outside. He took both her hands and squeezed them tightly. ‘How are you feeling, Felicia? You look as fresh and pretty as the daisies on your gown. Who would have believed, Edmund, that she has been through so much?’ He turned his head towards his friend.

‘Who, indeed?’ said Edmund, approaching slowly. Felicia’s eyes caught his but briefly, and the chilly expression in his caused her to look away.

‘Harry said you must have swum like a fish to save him,’ said Dickon, still holding Felicia’s hands. ‘You must be the veriest mermaid. Don’t you agree, Edmund? It is unusual in a woman.’

‘Of course I agree,’ responded Edmund smoothly. ‘But then Mistress Meriet is full of surprises.’ He snapped off a rosebud and held it to his nose. ‘I just pray she will continue to surprise me by being ready to ride in the morning.’

‘I shall be ready,’ she said firmly.

‘Good!’ Edmund tossed the rose to her. ‘Best you go to bed; we don’t want you fainting on the way.’ He took Dickon’s arm. ‘Now, my friend, how do you feel about a game of chess?’

Dickon nodded, and his eyes went from Felicia’s pale face to Edmund’s set one. ‘Good night to you, Mistress Felicia.’

‘And to you both,’ she murmured.

They bowed and went into the hall. Felicia stared after them with an unfamiliar ache inside her. She sniffed the rose, and then dropped it angrily before turning and climbing the stairs to bed.

 

Chapter Six

 

‘Do you really feel well enough to travel?’ asked Nell, watching Edmund lift Felicia on to the pillion seat.

Felicia’s mouth was set firmly, despite her trepidation. She had been going to suggest that she rode with Dickon, but one look at Edmund’s stern face had caused the words to remain unspoken.

‘I am certain. Thank you for your concern, Nell. I shall always remember your kindness,’ she said with a smile.

‘My debt to you is greater.’ A shadow flickered across Nell’s face. ‘You speak as if we shall never meet again, but surely you come into town on occasions? If you can, come for the fair in July and stay with me.’

Thank you. And if you are ever in need of a rest from town life, come to Meriet. You will find my direction from the abbot,’ said Felicia.

Briefly the two women clasped hands before Nell stepped back. She turned to Dickon, and kissed him on the cheek and then smiled mischievously at Edmund and held out both hands to him. ‘Take care of him for me…and yourself, too.’

‘I shall, never fear.’ Edmund squeezed her hands briefly. ‘Do not forget to ask one of Sam’s brothers to teach Harry to swim.’

Nell nodded. ‘It is not easy to bring up a boy without a man.’ She sighed.

‘I shall return your brother to you safely.’ Edmund released Nell’s hands and turned away.

Felicia scrutinised his face for any sign of the despondent lover, but his expression was an enigma as he climbed into the saddle. She gripped the back of his belt, and then she had time only to lift a hand in farewell before the horses began to move. The next time she looked back, Nell had gone. What were his feelings for Nell? If they ran deep, then surely he would not have started to make love to her last even? Or would he? Her throat ached with suppressed tears. She should never have let him touch her. Her feelings for him must surely be only carnal. She could not love him! She desired him simply because he was a physically attractive man. She raised her head and gazed at his straight back, feeling its strength and warmth beneath her fingertips. No! She must not think of how it had been when he had held her so close to his heart and caressed her so delightfully—that way lay weakness. She must think of something else. She looked about her and her spirits rose. It was a lovely morning and it was good to be alive!

They halted at the bridge, where, to her surprise, Edmund dismounted and went over to a small boy. Several beggars huddled there. Edmund sat back on his haunches, so that his face was almost level with the boy’s. He could not have been more than ten years old, and he moved himself along on a wheeled trolley by pushing two wooden platens beneath his hands. Edmund spoke earnestly to him before ruffling the mop of tangled hair. The lad grinned, and the physician returned his smile before dropping several coins into his pouch. She felt a stir of admiration as Edmund rose to his feet and mounted again. It was a Christian duty to give to the poor and disabled, but there were not many who would go to the length of actually touching such a dirty urchin.

‘Is he the one, Edmund?’ asked Dickon, as they moved onto the bridge.

‘Aye. You will do as I ask when the conflict is over, and give him a chance?’

‘If you think him worth it, my friend.’ Dickon shrugged his shoulders. ‘Are you sure he is as clever as you think?’

‘He is,’ replied Edmund firmly.

Felicia looped her fingers through Edmund’s belt again. ‘What a lovely smile he has, despite the dirt,’ she murmured.

Edmund said easily, ‘He would say that his dirt keeps him warm. He has withered legs, having been damaged during childbirth. His mother died and his grandmother takes care of him—but there is little money.’

‘Is that why you were arranging matters with Dickon so that there might be more money?’

He sighed. ‘There is nothing else I can do for him.’

‘My nurse used to say that demons caused sickness, and that deformity was a punishment from God,’ said Felicia. ‘Sometimes I think it is a lack of care and the dreadful food these poor people have to eat. So often it is rotten.’

‘I used to help in the infirmary at the monastery where my uncle Walter is abbot. A boy there had lost both parents and had been living off scraps until he was brought to our attention, thin as a reed and always sickly. We thought he would die,’ said Edmund. ‘But some good plain food, decent clothes—and Brother Thomas was a great believer in cleanliness.’ He glanced over his shoulder at her and grinned. ‘The boy’s recovery seemed miraculous.’

Felicia smiled faintly. ‘What is it like to be a physician? You must find much satisfaction in it?

He gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Sometimes I hate it! Those I treat can die. I study the stars in their courses, as I was taught. I know about the humours of the body and of certain cures from the East. I patch up wounds and give advice, but often the remedies I learnt from my mother are the ones that work. I watch and learn from men more knowledgeable than myself. Sometimes I find to my surprise that I have cured someone of an ailment that I had no luck with before. Then I am satisfied and thank God for it!’ He fell silent.

Felicia was moved by his words and considered him unusual in her experience of physicians. The majority of those whom she had encountered were charlatans—out to make the most money they could out of their life and death calling, but Edmund obviously cared for those he tried to help. Was he able to overseer a manor, though? She swallowed a sigh.

Aware of the sun on her face, she closed her eyes before opening them again at the sound of a lark. It hovered above a field with strips of pease and corn. To their left lay the abbey buildings and fruit trees thick with creamy pink blossom. Her spirits rose.

For a while they rode abreast, Edmund and Dickon chatting desultorily about the passing scene. Monks could be seen on their way to the abbey, either on foot or riding on mules. Richly dressed merchants sat astride fine horses, while their servants walked, leading the pack-animals laden with goods. A peasant passed, driving his pig before him, his stout wife panting to keep up, at the same time trying not to spill the eggs in her basket. Gradually the road became less populated, and then suddenly they heard thundering hooves and the jingling of harnesses.

Swiftly the two men dragged their horses off the road, just in time to avoid being trampled down by a company of armed and mailed men. They swept by, banners flying, their faces determined and grim. Felicia noted the colours and markings on the trappings and shields of the company. For a fearful moment she had thought it was her cousin in pursuit of her. She saw Edmund and Dickon exchange glances but they did not speak. Soon they would need to turn and go east.

Another mile, and she pointed out to Edmund a barely discernible path that twisted snakelike between two gently sloping hills. Eventually it led them to a moor, thick with bracken and yellow gorse, which gave off a sweet nutty fragrance. Overhead a sparrow-hawk soared, and instantly she was reminded of her cousin again. She was angry with herself. She should be feeling happy now. Soon she would gaze on her own manor. It was a long year since she had called it home. The house lay amid gardens, not far from the river. Oh, it would be good to be home again!

Yet, even as her spirits lifted, they drooped moments later. Soon she would be parting from Edmund. He had done as she had begged him, and was taking her home. Her mind touched lightly on how she would feel when he vanished from her life. Surely what she felt for him would pass once he was gone?

Within the hour they topped a hill and began the descent into the valley wherein Meriet lay. ‘There is the copse where my father took me on my first hunt!’ cried Felicia, her fingers curling and uncurling on Edmund’s back. ‘Soon we shall come to the mill and the river. Then we shall see the village, and not far from there is my manor house.’

Edmund surveyed the scene, interested despite the irrational sense of gloom that suddenly descended upon him. ‘The soil is fertile here?’

‘Fertile enough. But, like all land, it requires much work and a fair share of serfs. My father and brother desired to purchase more land, to cut down trees and put the land to the plough—but the war came, and I do not know yet what I shall do about such matters.’ Her voice trailed off.

‘You have a steward! He will advise you!’ Edmund wanted the parting to be over. Her voice had contained a note of loneliness and sadness that he did not want to think about. He had his own life to get on with and he would rid himself of the effect this woman had on him. He urged his horse forward.

They clattered over a stone bridge, and Felicia was suddenly aware of a sense of urgency. Perhaps the horse had caught her mood, because it began to quicken its pace. She clung tightly to Edmund, one of her arms slipping about his waist, bumping with the rhythm of the lengthening stride as her braids and veil flew out behind her.

The village came in sight, as did the walls of the demesne land. Above those walls rose the fat finger of the stone keep, the roof of the house should also have been visible. She stared incredulously. There was no roof to speak of—and the walls of the keep were darkened, not only with creeper, but with the effects of smoke.

‘Dear God,’ she whispered, clutching Edmund’s arm. ‘Something is terribly wrong!’

She yelled for him to stop as they entered the village. Swiftly he tugged on the reins and brought his mount to a plunging halt. Dickon, who had galloped on, realised that they had stopped. He wheeled about and came cantering towards them.

A woman working in a garden looked up, showing them a face that was both relieved and frightened at the same time. A white linen bandage peeked from beneath her veil. The hoe she held clattered to the ground, as Felicia slid from the horse without waiting for Edmund to help her down.

‘Agnes!’ she cried, clinging to the stirrup for a moment, before stumbling over to where the woman stood. ‘Tell me quickly what has happened here?’

‘My lady! My lady!’ squawked Agnes, pausing to grip and kiss Felicia’s hand before curtsying. ‘Your cousin! He has been here!’ The weather-beaten face creased into innumerable wrinkles as she gazed up with faded blue eyes. Then they darted a look at Edmund and Dickon, before returning to Felicia.

‘He is still here?’ asked Felicia in a low voice.

The old woman shook her head. ‘As wild as if a thousand devils possessed him, he was! But it is three days since he has gone, thank the Saints and our Lord.’ She crossed herself swiftly. ‘But not before your cousin did much damage.’ She paused, and bent to pick up her fallen hoe. ‘You will discover for yourself just how much when you go in search of your house.’ She rammed the hoe into the ground. ‘He called me a witch, the whelp of Satan! And he killed my cat! He beat me around the head with his sword when I cursed him.’

A fearful apprehension gripped Felicia. ‘What of my cousin Joan?’

‘She is hiding somewhere, the poor child. We have not seen her in the village since he went, but she was seen walking in the forest.’

‘I see.’ Felicia attempted to clear her throat of the obstruction that seemed wedged there. She was aware with part of her mind that Edmund had dismounted and stood behind her. ‘What of Sir William?’ she asked.

Agnes shrugged bony shoulders. ‘A message came. He went to Ludlow and has not returned. You should not have gone away, my lady.’

‘It was not my doing, Agnes,’ said Felicia earnestly. ‘I was tricked. But tell me, is my home utterly destroyed?’

‘Let it burn, your cousin said. The bitch shall have no kennel to hide in. If she comes here, tell her I will find her where’re she goes.’

Felicia gasped and clenched her fists. ‘Holy mother! If I were a man, I would kill him with my own hands!’

Agnes stared at her and then Edmund and Dickon. ‘Best let one of these fine gentlemen deal with him—if he can be destroyed, the devil!’

A shiver ran through Felicia and she felt Edmund’s hand on her shoulder. ‘He is only a man,’ he said roughly. ‘Let us ride on.’

Felicia glanced sidelong at his stern face. ‘There is no need for you to delay your journey, Master Edmund,’ she declared, tilting her chin. ‘You have done what you promised and brought me home.’

‘It is a sorry homecoming if you have no roof over your head,’ he said tersely. ‘And you forget I have an interest in seeing justice meted out to your cousin, preferably at the point of my sword in battle.’

‘Take me up, then, and we shall have a closer look at what damage he has wrought,’ she said.

He lifted her onto his horse and swung up behind her.

Felicia barely noticed the looks of the women working in the gardens for her heart was thudding in her breast as he held her against him. She could only pray that Edmund’s strength and deviousness could match Philip if they were to meet on the battlefield. She stared ahead between the horse’s ears. But had she escaped her cousin, only for Joan to become his victim? Why should she hide in the forest if it was not to lick her wounds like a terrified animal?

There was no one on watch at the gatehouse, and they passed its torn off gates and under the stone arch without being challenged. Some of the villeins worked on the demesne land. Felicia thought she caught her name as the men murmured among themselves, but she made no response. Her fingers clenched on Edmund’s sleeve as they rode up the path. Now she could see the charred beams of the roof. Part of one wall still stood, but the main structure of the house had fallen in. Icy desolation gripped her.

BOOK: Beloved Abductor
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