Hellion (10 page)

Isabelle was born eleven months after their marriage. They were living at Langston then, and when she had healed from the birth, her husband, try as he might, was unable to function with her as he once had. It was, Alette recalled, the answer to her prayers. After that, however, he became more abusive toward her, but she knew she should rather suffer his beatings than be at the mercy of his lust ever again. It was all she knew of the physical relationship between men and women.

How could she explain to her daughter the pain, the degradation, the horror of the marital act? Isabelle was rebellious enough. If she knew what was in store for her, she would change her mind. What would happen to them then? No. Every woman must suffer a man’s lust. Isabelle would be no different. She would tell Isabelle nothing.
Nothing!

Chapter 4

I
t was yet dark in the Great Hall of Langston as Father Bernard prepared for the mass. Several young female serfs worked at reviving the fires in the fireplaces. Quietly the priest set out the small jeweled crucifix he always carried with him on such journeys, drawing it forth from its velvet bag, setting it reverently upon the high board which would serve as the altar. The young boy delegated to serve him placed two silver candlesticks on either side of the crucifix, affixing pure beeswax tapers into each, grinning delightedly at the priest’s smiling nod of approval.

There is so much to be done here, Father Bernard thought as he looked about the hall. He had already performed several marriages, and baptized any number of babies. He had even seen off two old souls, easing their passage from this world into the next with the last rites of the Church, and had blessed the graves of those who had died over the last few years without benefit of clergy.

Hugh had promised to build a church, and the priest knew the young man would keep his word. Langston needed a church. The keep needed a chapel.
And they all needed a priest
. He had wanted to stay here from the moment he had seen the place. The king did not need him. He was but one of many royal chaplains, but the people of Langston needed him. It would not be a rich living, he knew, but they really needed him here. He would speak to Hugh.

“You look almost grim, good father,” the subject of his thoughts said, startling him. “Is everything aright?”

Father Bernard turned to face Hugh Fauconier. “You need me here!” he told the younger man, voicing aloud his thoughts.

“You would remain on this small holding? I would be right glad of it, Father Bernard, but I am no great lord, nor likely to be one,” Hugh said. “And will the king allow it?”

“King Henry has a dozen nameless priests just like me in his service,” Father Bernard said, “and two dozen more clamoring to be given a place at his court. If you ask him, my lord, I know he will release me from his service that I may stay at Langston, where I may assuredly serve God better. I am of no importance to the king.”

“Certainly we must ask him,” Hugh replied with a slow smile. Then he was all business. “I have promised Langston a church. We will build it together, good father. You may live here in the keep, or have your own house. You will have the church’s portion of rents and goods for yourself. For now I cannot promise to give you anything but food and shelter until I have better learned the condition of this manor.”

The priest nodded. “It is fair, my lord,” he said.

The Langston folk were now coming into the hall for the mass. Rolf appeared, and Alette, Isabelle, and their women came into the Great Hall from their chamber. The lad assisting the priest lit the candles upon the makeshift altar, and the service began. When it was concluded, and the priest had blessed the congregation, Hugh spoke before they might all depart for their day’s tasks.

“Good father, a moment, I pray you. Last night the lady Isabelle agreed to become my wife. I would have you perform the ceremony now.”

“
My lord!
” Alette was taken aback. This was no way for such a momentous occasion to be celebrated. She looked to her daughter, as did everyone else in the hall.

Isabelle of Langston, however, had locked her gaze onto that of Hugh Fauconier. She was surprised by his action, yet
the challenge in those smoky silver-blue eyes was irresistible. And the faint, almost imperceptible smile touching the corners of his mouth made it very clear that he knew it. It was just a trifle irritating that he taunt her so smugly, and silently. She ought to fly into a rage, terrifying them all, but she did not.

With a vanity she had not suspected that she had, she gazed at her attire. She was wearing a bright green tunic with gold thread embroidery over an indigo-blue skirt. The tunic was belted at the waistline, with a silk belt worked with gold threads. Her thick hair was plaited into a single long braid, as she always wore it. It only took her a moment or so to assess her appearance. Looking back at Hugh, she said, “I think it an excellent idea we marry now, my lord, at the beginning of the day. Then we may get about our work without interruption.”

With a grin he was unable to restrain, he held out his hand to her, drawing her to him as she took it. “You have heard my lady, good father. Let us get on with it, and the congregation here may witness the event, in honor of which I shall suspend the afternoon’s labor.”

“Where is my paper?” Isabelle demanded suddenly of him.

“I shall have the priest write it after we have received the sacrament of marriage, ma Belle. Do you trust me to honor my word?”

“I do, my lord,” she answered him.

Then before her stunned parent and the others, Isabelle of Langston was joined in marriage to Hugh Fauconier, as ordered by King Henry and agreed to by both parties involved.

“You may kiss the bride, my lord,” Father Bernard said.

She expected him to brush her lips lightly, as he had the night before. Instead, however, Hugh pulled Belle into his embrace, kissing her hard upon her mouth to the lusty cheers of the onlookers. When he set her back upon her feet, her surprise was evident.

“Now, my lady wife,” he said calmly, “shall we break our fast?”

“Aye, my lord husband,” she replied, matching his poise.

“Your wedding day should have been something special,” Alette chided her daughter as they sat eating. “Married after the mass without any warning! Do you call this meal a feast? Bread and cheese and wine? Oh, Isabelle! Why did you not refuse him so that it might have been done properly? No one would have faulted you in such a matter.”

“It did not matter to me,” Isabelle replied. “The king ordered the marriage. You said I had no other choice but to obey. If my lord sought to formalize our match this morning, I saw no cause to object.”

Alette was astounded by her daughter’s attitude, but then she had to admit to herself that Belle had always shown a lack of propriety. She should not have been surprised by such outrageous behavior.

“For whom would you have arranged this proper wedding, madame?” her daughter said scornfully. “Our only relations are in Normandy. We do not know our neighbors, for the land all around us is in the possession of a great lord who is rarely here. The marriage was well-celebrated, and witnessed in the presence of our own Langston folk. I feel no lack.”

“A bride cake,” Alette said weakly. “There should have been a sugar cake, and a minstrel to make music. You will have no beautiful memories. A woman should have beautiful memories of her wedding day.”

“Do you?” Isabelle asked her mother.

Alette grew pale, but then she said, “I was surrounded by my family, such as they were. There was wine and cake. Then your father took me up on his horse, riding across the fields to Manneville. That was my wedding day. What will you have to remember? A hurried, sudden ceremony after the morning mass!
And cheese!
” She began to cry.

“
Chère
madame,” Hugh interrupted, for he had heard it all, “I know that you must be disappointed, but we shall make up for our lack of display this day when our first child is born. Then will be a grand celebration, and I shall entrust it all to
you.” He took her hand in his and kissed it. “Do not weep now.”

Alette looked at Hugh through wet, spiky dark blond lashes, thinking after all that her daughter was fortunate in her plain-faced kindly bridegroom. She managed a tiny smile to reassure him, retrieving her hand as she said, “
Tu es bien gentil, monseigneur.
”

“It is not a bad feast, madame,” Isabelle said in an attempt to emulate her husband’s kindness, even if she thought her mother silly and weak as water. “The bread is still warm from the ovens, and it is a new wheel of cheese this morning.”

“
Oh, Belle!
” her mother said in that tone she seemed to reserve for her daughter alone.

Hugh stood up, saying to his new wife, “I would that you rode with us this morning, ma Belle. We need to know which fields are to lie fallow come the spring. And Lent is almost upon us. Who supplies the fish we will need? Our own people cannot fish enough, can they?”

“First, Father Bernard must write my paper,” Isabelle said, “and then you must sign it, my lord husband.”

“Agreed!” he answered her, and called for parchment, pen, and ink to be brought to the priest.

As it took several minutes to find the required items, the servants cleared the high board of all evidence of the meal, putting the leftover bread and cheese into a basket to be distributed to the poor, as was the custom at Langston. Finally the priest was settled, a clean parchment before him, his newly sharpened quill tip inked.

“Tell him what you would have him write, my lady wife,” the lord of Langston said to her.

Isabelle pondered it a moment, and then she said, “
I, Hugh Fauconier, lord of Langston Keep …
”

Father Bernard scribbled swiftly.

“
… swear upon the name of our lord, Jesus, and his holy, Blessed Mother Mary that I shall treat my spouse, Isabelle of Langston, with respect and dignity.
”

The priest’s hand slowed, but then hearing no order to cease from Hugh, continued to take Isabelle’s dictation.

“
I shall not beat my wife, nor abuse her with harsh words.
”

Alette de Manneville gasped, shocked by her daughter’s daring. She fully expected her new son-in-law to stop the girl, but he did not.

“
In my absence, my wife shall take on my authority over Langston, and its people, for I consider her my equal.
”

Alette cried out softly, falling into a chair, her hand over her heart. “
Mon Dieu!
” she whispered, her heart beating in terror as she awaited Hugh Fauconier’s justifiable wrath.

“That is all, my lord husband,” Belle said calmly.

“Rolf, you and Father Bernard will witness this document,” Hugh said quietly, bending to sign it. When they had, Hugh rolled up the parchment and handed it to Isabelle. “The first gift in your dower,” he said with a small smile. “I do indeed keep my word,
chérie.
”

“When do I have my lessons?” she asked him.

“In the afternoons,” he told her. “With your permission, we will leave the running of the household in your mother’s capable hands for the time being, my lady wife. In the mornings you will ride out with us so that you are kept fully familiar with the estate. I expect that both Rolf and I will be called upon to join the king’s armies come summer. You will have to oversee Langston while we are gone.”

Belle nodded. “I will go and fetch my cloak,” she said, hurrying off.

“While we are out,” Hugh said to his mother-in-law, “you will see that my wife’s possessions are moved into the solar, lady. I would know how much she understands of the intimacies that transpire between a man and his wife. What have you told her?”

“I have told her nothing, my lord,” Alette answered him. “There was no need until now, but before tonight I shall advise her to yield to you in all you desire, my lord.”

He saw the distaste in her eyes. She had obviously not been
happy in her bed sport with her late husband. It was good she had not told Isabelle anything, passing on her fears and aversions. “Say nothing to Belle, lady,” he said gently. “I am a kind man, and will not hurt her.”

Her relief was almost palpable. She curtsied to him and hurried away, her blue skirts swirling about her ankles as she went.

“You will have to woo her tenderly, Rolf,” Hugh said to his friend.

The denial sprang quickly to his lips, but then Rolf de Briard sighed. “She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he said. “I want to marry her, Hugh. Does it surprise you? Will you permit it? She is, after all, in your charge now.”

“You could have a younger woman,” Hugh said. “She is past thirty and may not be able to have children for you.”

“It matters not to me,” Rolf told his friend.

“Then if you can gain her favor, Rolf, I have no objections. You are her equal in rank. A knight. The steward of Langston. Your addresses will, however, have to be gentle in nature. The lady Alette, I suspect, was not happy with Robert de Manneville. He may have hurt her, making her fearful of the sweetness between a man and his wife.”