Lady of Fire (30 page)

The wind howled and the rain came down harder. He ought to get up and close the shutters against the sound and blow out the wildly flickering candles, he knew, but he was loath to leave her even for that minute. There was no clothing or furniture to damage and the candles would gut themselves soon enough. Besides, he took pleasure in looking at his sleeping wife in the faint light. It was not until a rain-drenched gale blew across the room and put out the candles that he could force himself to get up and shutter the window. She roused sleepily when he got back into bed and sat up in the darkness. "Roger… I thought you'd left me."

"Nay, love—never." He caught her and pulled her back down against him. The recent memory of her passion flooded over him as he remembered the feel of her open body beneath his. He moved his hands to cup her breasts while he nuzzled the sensitive places on her neck. "Let me love you again, Lea," he whispered into the darkness.

For answer, she turned in his arms and gave herself up to his embrace. The wind swirled and screamed furiously and the rain came down in sheets to splash into the lake, but neither cared.

"Lea… Lea! Are you all right?" Eleanor woke to Roger's shaking reluctantly. He peered anxiously in the warm morning light as she stretched sore muscles and tried to come awake.

She opened her eyes gradually to adjust to the brightness of the room. All vestiges of the storm had passed and it appeared they had slept nearly to midday. "Aye, I am fine." Her eyes met his and their shared passion came to mind. She blushed furiously as she thought of her wanton, shameless behavior in the night.

"You are sure—you aren't in any pain or anything, are you?"

"Nay." She shook her head and sat up. He appeared seriously concerned. 'Why?" she managed to ask as she sat up with a yawn.

Reassured, he managed a rueful grin. "Well, they are going to account me the greatest beast on earth, Lea, when they look at these sheets. Jesu, but they'll think I killed you."

She tumbled out of bed and looked for herself. A large dark bloodstain marked where she had lain and several smaller smudges smeared the area. Mortified, she managed to ask, "Roger, do I have to stay while they look? I mean… you know… there's certain to be more comment, and I've no stomach for it."

"Nay. Any can see you came to me a virgin, Lea." He kissed her lightly on the bridge of her nose before bending to savor the taste of her lips. Heat and desire seemed to flame between them in spite of the night's lovemaking. He drew back shakily and reached for his clothing. "Nay, I'll make you sore if we keep this up," He pulled on his chausses and tied them at his waist. Picking up his garters, he asked, "Do you want the maids or can I help you?"

She shook her head. "I can manage everything but my hair." She moved to look again at the bed. "Oh, Roger, they will see and they will know." Her face flamed again.

"Aye. Lea, 'tis what married people are expected to do—they do it every night."

"Every night?"

"Well, whenever the husband wills it, anyway." He finished wrapping his chausses and came to stand beside her.

"Aye, the husband's rights." She nodded.

"And the wife's, Lea." He picked up her brush and pushed her onto a bench before he started unknotting the tangles in her hair. "If you ever want me and I have not approached you to lie with you, just tell me and I will do my best to satisfy you. I would have you content in all ways, Lea."

She turned to lean against his leg and hugged it. "I am content."

"Well, I will have to write to Henry, of course, and tell him of our marriage. Do you send to Gilbert or do you want me to?"

"I don't care. It all seems so far away—my father, Belesme, Fontainebleau, everything."

"Aye, but we will have to go back one day. I have lands there—nay, we have lands there, love."

"When?" She jumped in alarm beneath his fingers.

"No time soon," he soothed. "But I will have to explain to Curthose if I want to keep the Condes. I think I'll let Henry plead my case first."

"Will he be angry that you did not tell him the whole when you asked his help?"

"Mayhap, but Henry is always Henry and we are friends. He is more likely to be disappointed that you came to me. His mind knew he could not have you, but his heart always had hope." He finished unsnarling the hair and began dividing it to plait into one heavy braid. As soon as it became known that they were awake, servants could be relied on to bring Richard de Brione and witnesses to attest to Eleanor's virginity in her marriage bed. "I could do this better, Lea, but if you would escape more vulgar comments, we will have to hurry. Do you think you could ride after last night?"

"Of course I can ride. Sweet Mary, but you worry too much, Roger."

"Well, if the water is not too high from the rain, I have someone Earl Richard has asked me to visit. My grandmother, my mother's mother, yet lives in the village in the care of the Saxons because she cannot bring herself to accept Norman charity from my father. He would have me tell her that her daughter yet lives and ask again that she come here if my mother returns."

"She must be very old."

"I would suppose so. I have never met her and my mother spoke little of her family."

"I would be proud to go with you."

"I had hoped so. I would show her what a fine wife I have got me, Lea." He finished braiding and straightened the plait against her back. "Hurry and dress, love, and we will get out of here for a while. I'll stop in the kitchens and beg some bread and cheese and cold meat and we can eat by ourselves somewhere between here and there." He gave her an affectionate squeeze on her shoulder. "Aye, I would have you to myself before I have to share your company with a dozen other men at my father's table."

"I hope we can cross the water."

"Aye. Mayhap they will lower the level." He watched her surprised expression. "This was not always a lake, Lea, according to Brian. When the Conqueror came, Aeldrid lived in a fortified manor on a point in the river bend. As the river was spring-fed, the Conqueror suggested to my grandfather that he divert the channel and surround the high ground with a lake for security. Thus Harlowe was built on the island formed where Aeldrid's manor had stood. That is why the church became part of the fortress—it sat far enough away from the village proper that it could not be left with it. My father has since built another church there to replace the one here."

"Does it seem strange to call Earl Richard your father?"

"Aye, but I know it is so and he would have it so. Therefore, I make the effort to think of him as my father. Mayhap it will come easier to say with time. As it is now, I cannot call him other than Richard."

"He is a good man, Roger. I can tell. He has none of Gilbert's weaknesses and he strives to do right."

"Let us hope that I have not brought him trouble." Roger pulled on a plain tunic and belted it.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing."

"Nay—you said the words, so you can explain your meaning."

"Nothing."

"Roger," she warned, "I would share your fears as much as you would share mine. Is it Belesme?"

"A foolish worry, Lea, but a worry nonetheless. Richard is a belted earl with more lands and greater power in England than Belesme. With him beside me, I do not see how we can possibly fail."

"Roger, did you have any idea when you came here?" Eleanor fastened a girdle over her blue samite gown and turned around.

"I knew he was my father and I hoped that he would support me because of the blood we share, but I had not the least idea that I was not his bastard son."

"A lot of men do not own their bastards."

"Aye, but I'd heard he was an honorable man." He stopped to listen to the sounds of footsteps on the stairs. "Jesu, but we have tarried too long, Lea." A knock sounded and Earl Richard called through the door. Roger moved to open it and found his father alone.

"I came before the rest." His eyes rested approvingly on Eleanor. "I thought she might wish to be somewhere else when they arrived."

"We had hopes of going to see Gytha, my lord, if we can get across."

"I'll have someone row you across—part of the bridge is underwater and we have not yet opened the gates for fear of flooding the village."

"How can I find her direction?"

"Ask anyone there for Aeldrid's wife. Her husband was thane here and the Saxons still honor her…just tell them you are of her blood and they will take you to her." Richard's attention turned to Eleanor. "And you, daughter—how do you fare this morning?"

"I am well, my lord."

"So I see. Once word of your beauty spreads, my table will be full of those who would come to look on my daughter-in-law." He looked from her to Roger and back and could not resist a light teasing. "Well, I can see your fears were unfounded, little one."

"My lord—"

"Oh, leave him be, Roger. Can you not see he means me kindness?" Eleanor faced the earl with a smile. "Aye, my fears were unfounded, and I am well-pleased, my lord. Indeed, I am glad to be welcomed into this family. I hope now to be known as Roger de Brione's lady rather than Gilbert's daughter. 'Tis an honor."

"Well, you two had best be going if you are to miss seeing the sheets hung up for all to look on." He gave them a conspiratorial grin. "You'll find a basket ready in the scullery and I've left word at the gate you are to be taken across. We keep horses stabled on the other side."

"
Thank you
, my lord," Eleanor managed.

"Think you I do not remember how it was with Glynis even after all these years? Nay—get on with you."

Richard watched them leave before turning his attention to the bed. The bloodstains bore testimony to the girl's virginity better than any he'd ever seen. Jesu, could the boy not use her more gently than that? Mayhap he ought to say something to him. Nay, he decided, the girl seemed well-pleased so he ought to leave well enough alone. Hopefully, Roger had planted his seed and Harlowe would know the joys of children in its halls and courtyards. Aye, he'd been denied the pleasure of seeing his son grow, but he could yet know a child of his blood in Roger's sons or daughters. Unhurriedly he summoned a page to bring up the others. Then from the window he watched a boatman hand Roger and Eleanor into a flat wooden boat. He turned away content and waited. If his grandchildren resembled either their mother or their father, they would be beautiful.

"Salut!" Roger called out to a fellow crossing a narrow dirt lane. "Can you lead me to Gytha, Aeldrid's lady?" He fished in his pouch for a coin and showed it. The fellow pretended not to understand. Finally, in rusty Saxon remembered from his mother, Roger repeated the question, adding, "I am of her blood and I would see her."

"Save your money, Norman," was the terse reply.

Eleanor leaned over her pommel and addressed the man. "My husband was reared in Normandy, but he is of Saxon blood. Please—may we see the good dame?"

"All of her relatives are dead—most in war with your Normans."

"Aye, but she will know this one. Earl Richard sends us."

He appeared to consider. "All right," he decided, "if the earl sends you. My lord Richard is not like the rest of them."

They followed him to a house set apart from the small huts of the village. It was larger, more spacious, and better tended than the others, guarded by two house servants who maintained a vigil from a stall in front.

"Earl Richard sent them—he claims to be a kinsman of my lady's."

"By what name?"

"Roger—but the name will mean naught to her. Tell her I have the look of Glynis and see what she says."

A servant disappeared in the house for a few minutes. When he returned, he nodded to Roger. "Aye, she'll see you."

Roger dismounted and helped Eleanor down. Clutching her hand like two children facing discipline, he entered the house. His grandmother sat on a high chair at one end of the room and watched them with birdlike eyes. With a start, he realized that age had shrunk her until she was smaller than Eleanor. He'd had no set plan for revealing himself because he had not known her health and he'd not wanted to cause her harm. One look at the small lady told him that she was not one given to hysterics.

"Grandmother, I have brought my wife for your blessing. We were but wed yesterday at Harlowe."

"I have no living grandson, sir."

"I was born of your daughter Glynis in Gilbert of Nantes' stronghold in 1069."

"You are mistaken—my daughter lies dead at Harlowe, boy."

"Nay—Earl Richard had her grave examined but two days ago, Dame Gytha, and there is none there. Glynis was sold to Gilbert while my father went to fight the Wake, and Gilbert was supposed to have killed her. Instead, he took her back to Nantes with him."

"Your father?"

"Earl Richard."

The old woman looked at him sharply and beckoned him forward for a closer examination. "Aye, you have the look of him."

"And of her."

"I have no daughter."

"Your daughter lives at Abbeville."

"Aeldrid pronounced her dead when she went with the boy you call Earl Richard. A fine Saxon man he'd found for her and she would have none but the Norman's son." Her voice trailed off. "So you are her bastard then?"

"I am her son by her husband." He moved yet closer. "Grandmother, my mother lives and my father has hopes of bringing her back to Harlowe. He would have you there with her." Roger could not tell if he was even making her think on his words. "You have none other of your blood left and she has none but you and me. I cannot begin to tell you what she has suffered at the hands of the Normans, but if she proves willing to return, I would think you could find it in your heart to welcome her. Jesu! You are all that is left of your family!"

"She has suffered?"

"Aye—much. But it would be better for you to hear of it from her. I did but come to tell you she lives and to ask your blessing as your grandson."

"This is your wife then." She gestured to Eleanor and waited for Eleanor to come closer. "Ah, you are almost as small as I was—but not quite. I did not stand a full five feet. Turn around and let me look at you." Eleanor did as she was asked and then impulsively knelt at the old woman's feet. Gytha leaned forward to study her face. Her gnarled hands touched the hair that pulled back from Eleanor's face and then reached to lift the chin.