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Authors: Anne Herries

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BOOK: Hostage Bride
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‘Then show her where they are to be found and let her see to it. You have done well in difficult circumstances, Mellors, but this house needs a woman’s touch. Until such time as the lady Rosamunde leaves—or I find a bride—we may as well take advantage of her industry.’

‘She will need women to help her, my lord. We have none here save her own servant, and an old crone who sits by the kitchen fire and mutters that she remembers the old times when your mother lived.’

‘Is old Deborah still here? I thought her long dead.’ Raphael smiled. ‘Send for women from the village to attend Lady Rosamunde.’ He saw the steward’s expression. ‘What? You think they will not come because of my father’s reputation?’ He frowned, then added, ‘Tell them my father is dead and I am home—ask for their pardon and say I will swear that no harm shall come to any woman who attends the lady Rosamunde.’

‘Very well, my lord.’ Mellors smiled. ‘I think the
women will remember you. You are not as your father was and they will come.’

‘We must hope that you are right.’ Raphael turned towards the house. ‘My father’s crimes must be redressed. I shall need your help in costing what must be paid to those he harmed. Attend to your other work and then come to me in my solar.’

‘The prince left it in some disarray, sir. It looks as if he—or one of his men—searched for something. The servants are setting all to rights, but I think someone took a silver ewer.’

‘The prince’s men are all thieves and rogues,’ Raphael said, his lips curling in a sneer of disgust. ‘We must think ourselves lucky that for the moment he does not demand the surrender of my father’s lands. As for his search of the solar, there was little to find. My father’s gold has gone to buy Richard’s freedom, and his ledgers are locked in my coffer.’

‘It will be a happy day when the King returns to this country, my lord,’ Mellors said fervently.

‘Pray God it is soon. Please excuse me, I have work to do.’

* * *

‘My lord asks for your help in the matter of some mending, lady,’ Mellors said. ‘We have sent to the village for women to help you, but you will have the charge of them.’

‘I am very willing to set the work in motion,’ Rosamunde said. ‘Please show me where the chests of linen are stored and I will make a start myself.’

‘There is a considerable amount. I do not think a stitch has been set since the late Lady Mornay died.’

‘I thought Lord Mornay had several wives.’

‘I meant Lord Mornay’s mother—the only true lady to set foot in this house until you came, lady.’

‘Lord Mornay’s mother?’

Rosamunde followed the steward through the hall to a storeroom at the back of the house. She frowned, for the steward’s words did not make sense unless…

‘How long has the present Lord Mornay been the lord of this castle?’

The steward pointed to three chests and then turned to look at her. ‘His father became ill two months since, just after Count Torrs was taken captive. He ordered us to send word to his son. We had heard that Sir Raphael was on his way home from the Crusades but were not sure where to find him. We sent messages to Normandy, France, Italy and the Low Countries and at last he was found. Alas, his father died just three weeks before he returned.’

‘The present lord did not order the capture of my uncle, then, did he?’ Rosamunde stared at the steward. ‘Why did he not tell me? Why was I allowed to believe he was the one who had done such heinous things?’

‘It is not my place to explain my lord’s actions, lady. The linen is in those chests. You will find threads in the smaller chests and mending in the larger two. If you will excuse me, I shall leave you to your work,’ Mellors said.

‘Yes, at least I may have something to occupy my
time while his lordship keeps me prisoner here,’ Rosamunde retorted bitterly.

‘You are at liberty to go where you please within the castle, but please do not try to leave. The men will be forced to stop you,’ the steward warned gently.

‘I must speak to Lord Mornay. He must understand, my father needs me. I have to go home!’ Rosamunde exclaimed in frustration.

‘Forgive me, lady. I have my orders. My lord is busy; you disturb him at your peril.’

Rosamunde frowned as the man inclined his head and then walked away, leaving her to examine the contents of the chests. Opening the first, she discovered torn garments and bed linens in a disgusting condition; everything looked as if it needed laundering before being stored. Closing the lid of the first coffer, she opened the other and discovered that it contained a very different kind of work. Taking the first piece from the chest, she saw that it was a half-finished wall hanging; the work was delicate and beautiful and the silks needed for its completion were folded inside it.

She lifted the other tapestries and discovered that most of them had been started and then abandoned. Such work would be a pleasure to do and Rosamunde would gain great satisfaction in completing the almost-finished wall hanging. Sighing in regret, she replaced it in the coffer. She would return to retrieve it later, but first she must make a start on the garments from the first chest, since these were clearly what Lord Mornay had asked her to repair.

She plunged in and pulled out an armful of linens. Her first stop would be the outhouse where she could set up a washing tub, though why most of these items had not been consigned to the fire in the first place she had no idea. Even when washed and mended they would not be fit for the lord of the manor and ought to be given to the poor.

* * *

Raphael gave up on the muddle of his father’s accounts and left his chamber, going through to the hall. Servants were busy setting up the trestles for the evening meal, but he had more than an hour before supper, and the thought of a stroll about the castle grounds appealed after too many hours spent poring over ledgers. As he walked through the hall into the courtyard he checked as an amazing sight met his startled eyes: everywhere he looked there were lines of rope with what looked like wet rags thrown across them.

‘What is this mess?’ he demanded of a servant carrying a wooden pail of water in the direction of one of the outbuildings.

‘It is the lady, sir,’ the servant replied. ‘She has been washing linens the whole day and bid us set up these lines to dry it all. I am taking her water to rinse the last of the linens.’

‘Then lead on and I shall follow,’ Raphael said and swore under his breath. What had the foolish woman been doing? Most of what he’d seen looked fit only for burning.

As he entered the outhouse Rosamunde had commandeered
for her marathon task, he saw her bending over a large wooden tub, her sleeves rolled up above her elbows and her arms plunged into water. She was intent on her scrubbing and did not look up immediately.

‘What possessed you to do all this?’ he demanded. ‘My bailey looks like a washerwoman’s yard. How are my men supposed to train and do their work with wet linen everywhere?’

‘You asked me to mend these things,’ Rosamunde said, and pushed a lock of hair back from her eyes. Her arms were red from the water and harsh soap used for laundering and she looked exhausted. ‘I cannot mend linen in such a disgusting state. Everything had to be washed first.’

‘Did Mellors not tell you women were to be brought from the village to help?’ Raphael picked up a linen tunic that had large holes in it. ‘What do you imagine I want with such rags? Have some sense, wench. I meant only to give you some mending or fine sewing. If I wanted all this linen sorted I would’ve set the servants to it.’

‘Some of the garments need only a few stitches to make them useful again—though I must admit I thought others fit only for the fire.’

Raphael stared at her, seeing the frustration and tiredness, and then he laughed. ‘Well, my lady, you wanted employment and it seems you found more than you bargained for.’

‘It is all very well to laugh,’ she said crossly. ‘Your steward showed me the chests. I would have preferred
to work on the tapestries I found, for they are beautiful, but I thought it was my duty to do as you wished.’

‘Tapestries?’ A mixture of emotions flitted across his face: remembered love, affection and sadness. ‘My mother was a skilled needlewoman. I dare say she left work half-done when she fell ill.’

‘The one I saw half-finished was very beautiful.’

‘Would you like to finish it?’ Raphael asked softly.

‘Yes, very much.’

‘Then leave such menial tasks to others. Tomorrow you will have women to attend you even if I have to kidnap them and bring them here myself,’ he said wryly.

‘You will do no such thing!’ she said sharply. ‘You should send me home with a small escort. My father needs me. I should be there to care for him.’

‘I am sorry your father is not well. I will send someone to see how he fares and bring you word of him, but I cannot allow you to return home just yet.’

Rosamunde dried her arms on a cloth and let her sleeves down with some relief. ‘I do not see why I should be forced to remain here if I do not wish it. You said you did not require a ransom—why then will you not let me leave?’

‘Because it would not be safe for you, Rosamunde. Your father cannot protect you and you unwisely angered the prince. He might decide that he would hold you to ransom instead of your cousin,’ he pointed out.

‘My father has nothing left. He beggared himself to help the King—and he gave all he had left towards Richard’s ransom. He has nothing but the roof above
his head and even that may be forfeit when the tax collectors discover he has nothing for them to steal,’ Rosamunde told him sadly.

‘Have they stolen from your father in the past?’

‘The prince’s tax collectors steal from anyone who cannot protect himself or his family.’

‘Is that why you were forced to obey your cousin and bring the ransom here?’ he wanted to know.

‘My father cannot pay his debts. I had no choice.’

‘What would you have done had I demanded the ultimate sacrifice of you?’ he asked curiously.

‘I—I do not know,’ she whispered. He saw the colour drain from her face and cursed softly.

‘I would not have you fear me, lady. I have no intention of demanding such a price of you or anyone else. Come; leave this foolishness and prepare to dine with me this evening. I think we should try to come to terms with the situation. It was not I who held your uncle to ransom. Nor did I bid you come here. I must keep you until such time as it may be safe for you to return to your home, but there is no need for us to be enemies.’

‘What, then; would you be my friend?’ she whispered.

Raphael hesitated. ‘Tomorrow I shall take the hawks out. My father always kept a good aviary and that has not changed. Would you like to come with me?’

‘Ride with you and watch the hawks fly? When I was a child it was a treat to be taken hawking. I remember stroking them and I thought that one day I should like a hawk of my own, but things changed. Yes, I think I

should like to ride out with you, sir,’ she answered, her eyes sparkling.

‘I do not know if it is possible for a man and woman to be purely friends,’ Raphael continued as they walked together. ‘But I will be as a brother to you. You have my word that you are safe here.’

‘Then I accept your word,’ Rosamunde said and smiled. ‘I cannot be certain but I think you visited my father’s house once—when you were merely a squire and on your way to the Crusades.’

‘That time seems far away,’ he replied, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her. ‘It may explain why I thought I had seen you before that day in Normandy.’

‘You saved me from a vicious dog that was—’

‘After your kitten?’ Raphael smiled ruefully as a memory flashed into his mind. ‘I had forgotten, just as I had forgotten my mother’s tapestries until you reminded me. So much has happened since, and I am no longer the youth I was when we left England.’

‘You must have seen so much—suffered.’ Rosamunde hesitated. ‘We sometimes heard stories. I believe many died, in battle and in other ways.’

‘You heard what happened at Acre?’

‘We heard that Saladin killed all the Christian prisoners.’

‘Yes. I had friends in that prison.’ Raphael’s voice dropped to a harsh whisper. ‘Richard made a terrible mistake when he executed those Muslim prisoners. It brought instant retaliation and broke the trust. Things changed after that for it placed a stain upon
our honour. Saladin used to send us fresh fruit and he showed honour in his dealings with Richard, but after that everything changed. Had I allowed my friend Janquil to be taken, he too would have died in that prison. Richard would have done better to show mercy. Men are men and brothers beneath the skin.’

‘Janquil?’ Rosamunde frowned and then remembered a servant with dusky skin and dark eyes. ‘He waits upon you at table, I think.’

‘Janquil is my friend, though he serves me as a body servant. It is his choosing. I would have given him money and set him free but he chooses to serve me and I protect him,’ he explained.

‘He knows that his life would have been lost had you not saved him.’

‘Perhaps.’ Raphael shrugged his shoulders. ‘I remember your father now. He entertained us lavishly and some of your men came with us to the Crusades. I am sorry that he has fallen upon hard times.’

‘Father was always too generous. He gave more than he could afford. My mother scolded him but he never listened. He thought it was his duty to support the King and a holy cause,’ she said.

‘He was a good man. I think such men have suffered in Richard’s absence. Prince John is greedy; he takes all a man has and still wants more. Until Richard is once more on the throne, the people will continue to suffer.’

‘My uncle felt as you do and that is why he came to England to raise money for Richard’s ransom. He will be sorry to have failed.’ Rosamunde sighed.

‘Can you be sure that he has failed?’ Raphael raised his left eyebrow. ‘Go up to your chamber, lady. Supper will be ready soon. Do not make me fetch you again this evening.’

‘No, I shall hurry,’ she said, a flush in her cheeks. ‘It seems that I have misjudged you, sir. I beg you will forgive me.’

‘We shall speak again another time,’ he replied and turned away, going into the hall as she ran up the stone steps of the tower.

BOOK: Hostage Bride
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