Rose of rapture (39 page)

"And ye know, my lady, that one does not kneel through the entire Mass," the priest sighed, "else we would not need the benches at all."

Isabella promised him the matter would be taken care of, then, having disposed of the four chief personages with regard to the keep's affairs, rolled up the sleeves of her gown and set to work.

Already, in the great hall, stout men armed with rush-rakes had succeeded in removing much of the filthy straw that had covered the floor, and maids with buckets of water and bars of strong lye soap were scrubbing that portion of stone now laid bare. Hastily, Isabella instructed the women to begin with the walls instead, pointing out that the grimy residue from the torches would otherwise run down onto the clean floor, which would then have to be washed all over again. She also directed them to lace their pails of water with turpentine in order to kill the crawling creatures that had infested the reeds, then sent two pages to the stables to fetch a basket of cats she intended to loose upon the rats.

Then, seeing everything in the great hall was progressing smoothly and adjuring her maids Mathilde and Edith to ensure it continued to do so, the girl set about to inspect the rest of the fortress. Seldom in use, the upstairs chambers of the castle were not nearly as dirty as the rooms below and needed primarily to be swept, dusted, and aired. Nevertheless, Isabella decided to scrub them down thoroughly as well, a few chambers at a time. All the tapestries and rugs, she determined, would have to be replaced; and all the mattresses would have to be thrown out and new ones sewn and stuffed with fresh ticking. She told the women who had accompanied her upstairs to begin in Warrick's room— that it alone, complete with new mattress, must be finished before nightfall. Only the tapestries and rugs could wait, the former taking many weeks to embroider, and the latter having to be purchased from the weavers. The maids eyed her askance, as though they thought her crazed, and began to wail about the impossibility of the task, but Isabella remained adamant, leaving Alice in charge of them to be certain there was none who shirked her duties.

After that, Isabella sought out the larder, wine cellar, storeroom, and storehouses. Only the second of these was sufficiently well stocked, Warrick, it seemed, having a care for his liquor— if nothing else. Much to the women's amazement, the girl wrote an extensive list of produce that would have to be planted in the vegetable gardens, come spring, and remarked somewhat wryly

that with Cheddar Gorge, in Somerset, being relatively near, 'twas unbelievable the larder contained no cheese. They would cure some of their own cheeses later, of course, from cow, goat, and sheep milk, and there would be headcheese, a cooked and jellied meat loaf made from boars' or hogs' heads; but the delicious Cheddar they would obtain from Somerset. This copiously noted, Isabella sent pages for the head huntsman and head fisherman and instructed them to hunt fresh game and to catch fresh fish to fill the larder.

In the storeroom, she was irritated but not surprised to discover the keep was low on tallows and torches. She put several maids to work making new ones at once.

But there was nothing she could do to fill the nearly empty storehouses, which ought to have been fairly overflowing with grain, the harvest being just past. What little of wheat, oats, and barley there was, she allotted carefully for the baking of bread and cakes and the cooking of soups and porridge; and she entered, on her list, the urgent need for seed for the spring planting. Her pen scratched away so furiously, due to her anger, that it sputtered and left a large blot upon the page.

In the kitchen, the chief cook was strictly informed that from now on, she was to consult Isabella, the first thing every morning, about the day's meals; and she was to start preparing immediately a thick stew to be fed to the toiling servants. And lest she had any intention of dishing up less than the poor best that was available (in order to peddle the castle's staples on the side, as Isabella was certain the cook had been doing for some time), Jocelyn would remain to supervise the kitchen and to whip it into satisfactory shape.

The girl then visited both the inner and outer wards of the fortress and, with the grim assistance of her trusted knights. Sirs Eadric, Thegn, and Beowulf, hounded Warrick's own men-at-arms into hard and unaccustomed labor.

Her tour complete, she then returned to the keep to go over the account books with Master Isham and to consult with Giles and Sir Bevan about what was necessary to shore up the castle's defenses.

Needless to say, when Warrick arrived home that evening, he was utterly stupefied by the changes that had been wrought. The fortress, normally eerily quiet, was now a buzzing hive of activity; and for one astounding moment, he could almost believe he had somehow entered the wrong keep by mistake. Had he not been so amazed, he would have laughed at the sight of his proud knights

mucking out the stables and hauling cartloads of manure outside for dumping beyond the fortress walls. Caerllywel, who strode up to meet his brother, did laugh, but his mirth rose primarily from the stunned look on the Earl's face.

"You'd best hide yourself—and quickly—Waerwic," Caerllywel urged as he caught the bridle of the Earl's steed, "for if I'm not mistaken, your men-at-arms plan to murder ye this eve."

"Christ's son, Caerllywel!" Warrick swore as he dismounted. "What in the hell is going on here? Nay, do not bother to reply, for I ah-cady know the answer. 'Tis that witch I wed. She has overturned the place in my absence."

"Well, I do not know about that, Waerwic," Caerllywel rejoined coolly, "but she has certainly made an effort to start setting it to rights; and I, for one, am most grateful to her. I confess that, until now, I had grown so accustomed to the disorder here that I scarcely realized we lived like pigs."

"I don't recall that I forced ye at sword point to stay, brother," the Earl pointed out dryly. "I am sure that Madog would welcome ye at Gwendraeth, or, failing that, ye might seek employment with some other lord who has need of that battle-ax ye wield so well."

Caerllywel raised one eyebrow frostily.

"Do not take that tone with me, Waerwic," he warned. "On more than one occasion, ye have been glad I fought at your side."

The Earl had the grace to flush guiltily.

"I'm sorry, brother," he apologized. "'Tis 'Sabelle with whom I am wroth, not ye. I should not have spoken so to ye."

"Waerwic," Caerllywel uttered slowly, "methinks ye are a very great fool indeed. I say again: Ye have no cause to despise your bride. She was but a victim of Lord Lionel's deceit. Had ye not been so wounded by Brangwen, ye would have realized as much. 'Sabelle has been and always will be the most honorable and faithful of wives."

"Oh?" Warrick drawled sarcastically. "And what makes ye say that?"

"She loves ye—although why, I'm sure I don't know."

With that parting shot, Caerllywel turned on his heel and walked away.

She loves ye. She loves ye.

Over and over, the words rang in Warrick's mind as he stared silently at the door that stood between him and Isabella. Caerllywel had said he was a very great fool. Was he? Was he so blinded

by bitterness that he had judged his wife wrongfully? Had she,

in truth, been tricked into entering Lionel's tent that day of the

tourney?

For the hundredth time, Warrick tried to think back, to remember how she had looked when she had come out of the heir of St. Saviour's pavilion. She had been panting hard, he recalled, as though she had been making love; and the bodice of her gown had been torn open, as though by hands too impatient to wait to undress her properly. But.. .would not a struggle have caused her to be gasping for breath? Would not Lionel, attempting to take her by force, have ripped open her garments?

The Earl inhaled sharply.

Aye, it could have happened like that, he concluded, as usual. Why, then, did he continue to doubt his wife? Oh, if only he could be certain of what had really occurred!

She loves ye — although why, I'm sure I don't know.

Warrick gazed thoughtfully about his chamber, noting how clean and fresh it now was. Even a soft new mattress lay upon his bed. Would Isabella have worked so hard to please him if she did not care for him? Another woman would have seen to her own comfort first, but Isabella had thought only of him. Even Giles's room, the Earl knew, she had left undone so his own chamber might be finished by nightfall. Would she have placed him above her brother if she did not love him? He did not know.

Again, Warrick glanced at the door that barred him from Isabella. It had been many nights since he had held her in his arms; and though he might have slaked his lust on another woman, he had not. The Earl did not ask of others what he could not give in return. When he had wed her, he had demanded his wife's loyalty and pledged her his own. He was not a man to break his vows.

They had been lonely, those evenings he had spent in the King's stables at the Tower, pouring out his heart and soul to Gwalchmi. Now that he recalled them, Warrick decided even his cherished destrier had looked at him as though he'd been a fool.

Was I? he wondered. Am I? Aye, for I have let the witch enchant me, and now I cannot break free of her spell. How many nights did I waste drinking and dreaming of her, wanting her? Had she been a man, I would have challenged her, dueled with her, triumphed over her. But because she's a woman, I let her go without a battle. Fool? Aye. I should have fought to win her, conquered her heart and soul, driven Lionel Valeureux from her mind. More fool L I thought 'twould be enough to gain her

loyalty. How could I have guessed 1 would want her love? Aye, love. I love her. I have loved her all along and would not face it. Damn my pride. Curse my arrogance. 'Twas not until that day at Lionel's tent that I knew, and then.. . then.. .Jesii! To find she had betrayed me was too much to bear. I wanted to kill her, to hurt her, as she had me. And yet... and yet... Did I not also long to take her into my arms and make love to her until she cried out her surrender, vowed that Lionel was nothing to her? Nothing! Hear her swear 'twas me she loved? Me—and me alone. She tried so hard to explain what had happened. Was I wrong not to listen, to believe she had played me false? If I had it all to do over again, would I still walk away? I don't know, i don't know. Oh, God. Oh, God. What a mess I have made of things! Caerllywel told me she loved me, but I know he is mistaken. How could she, now, after I have been so cold and cruel to her? Still, she's my wife! 'Tis my right to have her, no matter what is wrong in our marriage, no matter if she no longer wants me. I will take her and make her want me. Even if she scorns me, laughs at me, I shall win her love if 'tis the last thing I ever do! She is mine. Mine! I'll not walk away again.

His mind made up, Warrick strode to the door—and opened it.

"Come," he said to his much-startled wife. "I have need of ye."

Slowly, not knowing what to think, Isabella rose and followed him to his room. Was he angry? She did not know. Earlier that evening, he had not said one word to her about the changes she had wrought in Hawkhurst. Perhaps he had only waited until now to vent his wrath upon her for her upheaval of his home. The girl shivered. Warrick could be so cruel at times.

"What is amiss, my lord?" she asked quietly. "Is there aught here that has not been done to your liking?"

He looked at her with surprise.

"Nay, of course not."

"Then what is it ye wish of me, my lord?"

He indicated,^ with a sweep of his hand, the massive canopy bed that dominated the chamber.

"I know, from the grumbling of the maids, that mine is, as yet, the only new mattress in the keep. I thought ye wouldst like to share its comfort with me"—he spoke casually.

At first, when she understood what he desired, Isabella's face grew pale; and the Earl's heart sank. It was as he had surmised. She no longer wanted him and intended to deny him. If he meant

to have her, he would have to take her by force, and there would be no joy in the act for either of them. Then she blushed and turned away, trembling a little; and Warrick knew he was wrong. He watched her silently from beneath half-closed lids as awkwardly, with quivering fingers, she began to unlace her robe and shift. Why, she was frightened, as frightened as she had been the first time of their mating. Then the Earl realized that for her, this night was like that first one, for she did not know what to expect from him.

Suddenly, it occurred to him how very strong and masculine he was, how very fragile and feminine Isabella was. For a moment, Warrick wondered how he would have felt, had he been in the girl's place; and he truly understood, for the first time, how very small and helpless a woman was against a man. Oh, a maid might struggle, even wield a dagger against him, but a powerful and determined man could easily overcome these obstacles to his desire. A man who was not the woman's husband might be punished for the deed—provided she had other powerful and determined men to defend her—but against her husband, shp had no recourse. She was his chattel, to do with as he pleased. No wonder so many maids went terrified to their wedding beds— as Isabella had come to Warrick's.

Then, he had brushed aside her fears, dismissing them without a second thought. It was natural to be scared of the unknown; once he had taken her, she would no longer be afraid. Now, the Earl recognized it was more than just that. It was the surrender of her body and soul, her very life, into a man's hands that so frightened a woman.

Yet, here was Isabella, bravely, if a trifle shyly, slipping from her nightclothes without protest, trusting him to use her kindly, though she knew he had wanted to slay her that day of the tourney, though she believed now that he despised her. He wondered, had he been in her place, if he would have been so valiant; and he was touched by her courage.

'"Sabelle," he breathed, the word as soft as a caress.

She turned, letting her garments float gently, like a whisper, to the floor.

"Aye, my lord?"

She made no effort to shield herself from his hungrily raking gaze, merely stood there, quietly, her eyes falling before his. In two long strides, he had reached her.