Susan Spencer Paul (2 page)

There was a gasp, followed by shrill words. “Alexander! Will you let her speak to you in such a manner? She is churlish and rude!”

“Silence, Aunt Leta,” he commanded quietly, and the room fell still again. So still that Lillis thought she could hear the frantic pounding of her heart.

“My lady of Wellewyn,” he spoke with unnerving softness, “let us have an understanding. I assure you that you will not leave here tonight.”

Lillis felt Edyth trembling violently beneath her hands, and she licked her dry lips.

“We
will,
” she insisted.

“You will not.”

Lillis understood him, could hear in the tone of his voice exactly what he meant. They were prisoners. She wanted to give way to the fear that struck her so fiercely, but she wouldn’t. She would
not.
Instead, she demanded, “What is your name, sir, and what place is this?”

He seemed surprised at her question, as though she should know where she was and to whom she spoke.

“This is Gyer, my lady, and I am Alexander Baldwin, the Lord of Gyer.”

He spoke the words with such meaning and expectancy that Lillis felt even more unsettled. He was watching her for some kind of reaction and seemed dissatisfied that she had none.

“You do not know of Gyer,” he stated.

“I have not been home for more than ten years, Alexander of Gyer, but I do have some small memory from my childhood of a place called Gyer. Is it not a neighboring fief to Wellewyn?”

He gave her no answer, but turned to address those behind him.

“They will stay in Mother’s chamber. Aunt Leta, send servants with food and drink. Tell them to give these ladies whatever they require.”

“Your mother’s chamber, Alexander? It isn’t right!”

“It will be as I say,” he answered curtly. “Go now. Willem and I will escort the ladies to their chamber.” He looked at the twins. “Wait for me below,” he said in a voice that made them leave the room at once.

Lillis and Edyth found themselves alone with Alexander of Gyer and the man named Willem.

“You will come with us,” the Lord of Gyer stated rather than asked.

Edyth shook her head and clutched Lillis’s hands. “Oh, no, my lady!” she sobbed. “They are going to hurt us! They are going to kill us!”

Lillis bent to put her arms around her companion’s trembling form. “Now, my dear, they’re going to do no such thing. They shall take us to a very nice chamber—” she sent an angry glare at the Lord of Gyer, who nodded “—and we shall eat until we are full and then we will rest.”

“I—I am very hungry,” Edyth whimpered, shuffling toward the open door.

The man named Willem carried a torch to light their way, but when they reached the first stair Edyth stumbled. Lillis moved to hold her up, then was surprised to find that the Lord of Gyer had also reached out a steadying hand.

“Let me,” he murmured, prepared to help the older woman down the stairs. But he had made a mistake. When Edyth realized, even in her weakened state, whose hand it was that grasped her arm, she shrank against her mistress in a state of full distress.

“Don’t touch her!” Lillis warned, stopping on the step and enclosing Edyth in a strong embrace. Her trembling maid fell against her and wept.

Alexander of Gyer stared at her.

“Are you a knight, Alexander of Gyer?” Lillis asked angrily.

His face registered shock. “Yes.”

“Then I hope you pray well to God tonight.”

He understood her meaning, she saw, but said not a word, only nodded and turned to lead the way down the stairs.

It took some time to reach their destination, Lillis having to help Edyth every step of the way, but finally they stopped in front of a door that opened to a beautiful chamber, as clean and orderly as their previous chamber had been filthy and disorderly. Lillis guided Edyth inside, relieved to see that a fire was already burning in the fireplace and that candles had been set out for illumination.

“Someone will come to see to your needs,” Alexander of Gyer said. Finally Lillis looked at him. He appeared different in the full light, bigger and more formidable. He was wet and obviously tired, and his heavy armor looked uncomfortable. He was younger than she had originally thought.

“We will speak in the morn, my lady. I will wish you a good eve until then.”

Making a slight bow, he turned and left, the man named Willem trailing behind him. The door closed with a thud, and Lillis heard the unmistakable sound of the lock being turned.

“H
ere you are,” Willem said as he stuck his head through the door. “I should have known where you’d be when you didn’t appear for the morning meal.”

Alexander looked up from the table at which he sat and gave Willem a brief smile. “Come and keep me company.” He nodded at a chair across from him. “I fear I slept ill last night and rose earlier than usual. Cook fed me some bread and cheese in the kitchen.”

Frowning, Willem strolled across the room. “You do look tired, Alex. This matter with Wellewyn wears on you, and I imagine our...
guests
trouble you, as well. Have you decided what you’ll do with them?”

Alexander shook his head and lifted one hand to rub his tired eyes. Slept ill last night? In truth, he’d not slept at all. Coming home to find Lillis of Wellewyn a captive in his home had left him in shock, and he had lain awake, staring into the darkness and wondering what he should do with her. He had several choices, and not a one of them ideal.

He could send Jaward a missive, letting him know that his daughter was being kept at Gyer, and could word it in such a way that no obvious threat would be implied, or he could come right out and tell Jaward to meet his terms else his only child would suffer. The problem with the latter was that Jaward would probably realize Alexander didn’t possess the meanness to actually hurt a woman; the problem with the former was that Jaward would simply go to the king and petition his aid in having his daughter returned. Holding Lillis of Wellewyn certainly seemed like a good way of getting what he wanted from the old man, but Alexander wasn’t yet sure how to go about using her to his advantage.

“No,” he answered at last, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve not yet decided what I’m going to do. I’ve instructed Aunt Leta to bring the lady to me after she and her companion have breakfasted. I thought I would see what she knows about her father’s activities. Any information she can give us will be helpful.
If
she has any information that she’s willing to give.”

Willem was quiet for a moment, then said, “She’s very beautiful, is she not?”

A glance at his younger brother showed that Willem was carefully inspecting his knees, his face having turned red, and the sight made Alexander grin. Willem was one of the bravest men Alexander had ever known, especially in battle, yet for all that he was painfully shy of women. Merely mentioning that he found a lady to be beautiful made him blush.

“Yes, she is,” Alexander agreed. “Most beautiful. Not at all what I expected after seeing Jaward.”

Not at all what he’d expected, regardless of Jaward. Alexander had walked into that chamber last night and found himself faced with a woman unlike any he had ever before seen. She was certainly the tallest woman he had ever met with, and she had the blondest hair he’d ever seen, as well. She had looked like a shining angel in the glow of the candlelight. Even her brows were blond, causing her blue eyes to stand out quite noticeably. Alexander had been able to see the light blueness of them right through the dark. Her features were fine, with high cheekbones and a full mouth complementing her pale, white skin. He remembered her hands—strong hands, beautiful, with long, shapely fingers that looked as though they could mete out a great deal of pain—or pleasure.

“Have you decided upon a punishment for the twins, at least?” Willem pressed. “They’re already in the village crowing about their deed to any and all who will listen. Did you know that?”

Alexander gave a sigh, which sounded as tired as he felt. “I know, Willem. God alone knows how well I know. And no, I’ve not decided what I’ll do with them, either. Most of the castlefolk and, I suspect, most of my people, believe I should give them a hero’s reward for what they’ve done. If I punish them as they deserve I’ll have a hundred and more unhappy voices ringing in my ears.”

“And if you don’t punish them,” Willem returned, “you’ll have Hugh and Hugo spending all of their days waylaying travelers on the main road and bringing them back to Gyer as prisoners.”

“I know, I know,” Alexander repeated, lifting one palm in the air in a gesture of helplessness. “But what can I do? Nothing seems to stop them. No punishment, no amount of deprivation, no efforts to make them see the error of their ways. The truth, Willem—” Alexander met his brother’s eyes “—is that when Father spoiled those two, he did it for all eternity. Sometimes I wonder if we shouldn’t all of us accept that fact and simply try to live with it as best we can.”

“We could always foster them,” Willem suggested. “At least we’d be rid of them for a couple of years.”

Alexander made a smirk. “Willem,” he chided, “you know as well as I that the twins will never make knighthood. Fostering them with a master who could train them for that purpose would be utterly foolish. Aside from that, I doubt anyone would take them.”

“If you offered sufficient payment—”

“It wouldn’t matter,” Alexander cut him off. “I could probably offer every groat I possess and it wouldn’t be enough. God knows no one could ever pay
me
enough to take those two on if I didn’t already have to keep them out of familial responsibility. And,” he added morosely, “you know full well that Father forbade me from ever causing Hugh and Hugo to do what they didn’t wish, and although I deeply regret having made him that foolish promise, I must abide by it.”

The door to the chamber was flung open so suddenly that it caused both men to start. Lillis of Wellewyn, breathtakingly lovely in a dress of light blue silk that matched the color of her eyes, strode into the room as if she had every right to do so without first being invited. Aunt Leta came puffing in behind her, unable to keep up with the taller woman. Both men quickly rose to their feet.

Lillis of Wellewyn, chin held high, stopped in front of Willem and Alexander and opened her mouth to speak, then, with a look of bewilderment, shut it again. She looked from one man to the other, then back again, with a frown. Finally she settled her searching gaze on Alexander and stared at him for a long, assessing moment. He held very still as her blue eyes moved over him, from his face all the way down to his booted feet. When she looked into his face once more her expression was resolved.

“My lord—” she began curtly, but was interrupted.

“I have never known such ill-mannered behavior in all my life!” Aunt Leta exclaimed with indignation. “She would not follow or even wait for me! She went storming down the hallways and I barely had time to tell her which direction to take. One would think she’d been raised as a heathen rather than as a lady!”

Lillis of Wellewyn did not turn her gaze from Alexander’s, and he thought he saw a small, amused smile play on her lips. It vanished as soon as it came, unlike her defiant glare.

“Thank you, Aunt Leta,” Alexander said dismissively.

Aunt Leta stamped her foot in displeasure, and Alexander glanced at her.

“Thank you, Aunt Leta,” he repeated. His aunt angrily pursed her lips and left.

Not hearing a request from Willem to be excused, as he expected, Alexander looked and saw, with amusement, that his brother was gaping in stunned silence at the beautiful lady before them.

“My lady, I trust you passed a pleasant night?” Alexander inquired, turning his eyes to her again. She truly was quite stunning, he thought, even when she was angered. “May I make my brother known to you? This is Sir Willem Baldwin. I regret we had no moment for such courtesies last eve.”

To his surprise, the lady lost her basilisk stare, turned to his brother, graced him with a pleasant smile, and said, “Oh, we did wonder who you were, sir, though we knew your name was Willem. I am pleased to meet you.”

Willem turned bright red. His mouth opened and closed several times but no sound came out. Finally, painfully, he managed to sputter, “I am...
honored,
my l-lady.”

“Thank you, Sir Willem,” she rejoined politely, then turned to Alexander again and promptly regained her angry glare.

“I believe we have some few matters to discuss, Alexander of Gyer,” she informed him, as though their meeting had been her idea and without a hint of the gentleness with which she’d just treated Willem.

“Yes, we do,” Alexander agreed, suppressing the odd, vague jealousy that tickled the edge of his thoughts. With a hand, he indicated the chair Willem had vacated. “Please sit, my lady. Willem, will you do me the favor of seeing to any matters that the tenants might need settled this morn?”

Willem was still staring at the lady Lillis, but Alexander’s words brought him back to life. “Of course—of course, Alex. Very glad to—to take care of that for you.” He bent a clumsy bow in Lillis of Wellewyn’s direction, then left the room at a near run.

Once his brother was gone, Alexander took a moment to gather his thoughts. He didn’t cherish the position he found himself in. How did one go about telling another person that she was his prisoner?

“I hope you found your chamber comfortable, my lady?”

“Very,” she replied coldly.

“And how is your maid this morn? Edyth is her name, I believe?”

“She is fine, thank you. Frightened and unsettled, but otherwise well.”

Alexander nodded. So, now he was reduced to frightening frail, elderly women out of their wits. The foreign feeling disgusted him, and he wondered how he was going to be able to carry out any of this. He’d understood Lillis of Wellewyn only too well when she had asked whether he was a knight. He had taken a knightly vow to serve God, to defend his country, and to protect and cherish the fairer sex. He certainly was failing in the latter! And yet, he thought, keeping Gyer out of war was worth breaking every vow he had ever made.

“I’m sorry for that. I assure you that my intention is not to frighten or upset either your maid or yourself. Please believe that you will both be treated with respect and consideration while you are here.”

“How very kind you are, my lord,” she replied icily, “but as I told you last eve, we merely wish to take our leave of Gyer as soon as possible. We have enjoyed quite enough of your hospitality.”

Alexander chose his next words carefully. “Again, my lady, I am sorry. It will be necessary for you to remain at Gyer for the time being.”

He was prepared for a typically female reaction to this statement: crying, screaming, wailing. He was not prepared for Lillis of Wellewyn’s reaction. She regarded him coolly, very little emotion showing on her face.

“You appear to be a reasonable man, Alexander of Gyer,” she said, much of the chill gone from her tone. “I cannot be certain, of course, but I do not think you are either insane or inherently evil, so there must be good cause for what you are doing. I would appreciate it, my lord, if you will explain the matter to me.”

Alexander was almost as shocked by her calm response as he’d been by the lady’s looks. Any other female of his acquaintance would now be in a puddle of tears at his feet. But if Lillis of Wellewyn could behave calmly and reasonably, so much the better for all concerned.

“You said last night that you had not been home for many years. I think perhaps you may be unaware of your father’s recent activities. Is this so?”

“My father?” she repeated with surprise. “No, I do not know what his activities are. Even had I been living at home I might not know, for he has ever been private about the management of the estate. Has he—has he done something wrong?”

Alexander regarded her for a moment, then said, “About six months ago your father built a dam on the Eel River, cutting off the main water supply to Gyer. I do not know why he did it, only that he did and that he will not negotiate with me regarding it. As you can imagine, my people have suffered a great deal because of this. Most of their crops have been ruined and now they are wondering how they will survive the coming winter, how they will put bread on their table. I am a wealthy man, my lady—” he shrugged “—and will not hesitate to make certain that my vassals and villeins are cared for, but that will not solve the problem of next year’s crops, and of the years after that. One way or another, by truce or by war, the dam your father built must be torn down. The thought of war is not a happy one for me, but I can see no other course while your father remains so stubborn.”

She had grown still while he spoke. Her eyes had widened and now she stared at him in utter shock. “I had no idea,” she whispered. “I swear I did not.” Her expression pleaded with him to believe her, and he did. “It is no wonder that the people of Gyer received us so angrily yesterday,” she continued, as though speaking to herself. “They must have seen that our guards wore my father’s colors and realized we were from Wellewyn. After what my father has done, I cannot blame them. But
why?
Why would he do it?”

“I don’t know,” he answered. “I had hoped you might be able to tell me, or give me some clue, but I see that you are as much in the dark as I. Your father has proved immeasurably stubborn in the matter. I’ve tried everything I know of, from offering money to making threats, but he’ll not be swayed. Yesterday I rode to Wellewyn to make him a final offer and he practically threw me out of that rotting pigsty he dares to name castle.”

She frowned at him, and Alexander belatedly realized what he’d said, how basely he’d insulted her home. “Forgive me, my lady. That was mean spirited of me.”

“I understand, Alexander of Gyer. You are very upset and have every right to be. What my father has done is unforgivable.” Still frowning, she looked away from him.

Alexander gazed at the penitently bowed head of his captive and knew an unbidden desire to comfort her. She seemed genuinely unhappy about what her father had done; it would have been cruel for him to turn his anger with Jaward upon that man’s innocent daughter.

“You are not to blame for this, Lillis of Wellewyn. I believe you had no knowledge of your father’s deeds.”

She gazed at him fully, causing his heart to know a strange agitation. “I did not know,” she promised, “but now that I do, I vow I shall do all I can to have the dam torn down. Have you not petitioned the king regarding it?”

He shook his head. “That is the beauty of your father’s scheme. It is perfectly legal, the dam having been built on his land, or rather, on your land. If I ride into Wellewyn to tear it down, I am the one who will attract the king’s wrath—for trespassing on another man’s property.”