The Baron's Quest (6 page)

“And neither will you have to.” He removed his weaponbelt, then his surcoat, and his tunic followed. Her eyes focused on his sturdy chest and her mouth fell open.

“Close your mouth,” he told her. “You act as if you’ve never seen a man’s chest before.”

“Of course, I have,” she said, putting her things down on a nearby table. “Only, the men’s chests I’ve seen have looked . . . quite different than yours.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He bent over and removed his boots, and her eyes fastened to his back end. He obviously knew she was looking at him though his back was toward her. “Come here,” he said, standing up and reaching for the tie at his waist.

“My lord?” she asked, wondering what he was asking.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you.”

She moved forward slowly, stopping right in front of him. He reached out and tilted her chin upward with one finger, and she felt a wisp of excitement rush through her. She wasn’t a virgin, but the one man she’d been with was not half as dashing as the baron. He had been a merchant’s son in town. She’d been curious of the act of being bedded and it had been his first time as well. So together they’d experimented in coupling with each other. But that was two years ago, and she hadn’t been with another man since.

His eyes were fastened to her lips, and this exited her. Then he reached forward and pressed his lips upon hers. His hands slid down her shoulders and lingered at the sides of her breasts, and she didn’t stop him. Then she reached upward and put her hands on his shoulders as she returned the kiss as well.

He tasted like ale and smoked meat, and his clothes smelled like the sea. She ran her hands through his thick, honey-colored hair, and kissed him deeper. When she’d kissed him on the ship, she’d done it to distract him and make him forget she owed him money. Now, she kissed him because she wanted to - not because she had to or because she was playing a game. She felt something awaken deep within her when he placed his lips against hers. The thought of a nobleman kissing her excited her in more ways than one.

He took a hold of her hands and placed them against his bare chest. She felt power, and muscle beneath her palms. And when he guided her hands downwards, her fingertips grazed past his flat nipples and they instantly rose to little peaks. She heard him take a sharp, deep breath, and then to her dismay he pushed her away.

“My lord?” she asked, not certain what she was to do next.

“I just wanted to give you a taste of what you’ll be missing.” He reached down and started to removed his braies. She turned quickly and looked the other way. She felt so rejected right now.

“Where will I be sleeping, my lord?” she boldly asked, not turning to look at him for fear she’d see more of his bare skin.

“You will be sleeping on the pallet at the foot of my bed.” She first noticed the pallet he spoke of, and though it was no different than the one she slept on at her own home, it felt belittling since she would sleep at his feet like one of his hounds.

“Aye, my lord,” she said instead of what she really wanted to tell him. Because if she angered him now – she might never taste his kiss upon her lips again. And somehow, that thought was more frightening than actually being ordered to warm his bed.

Chapter 5

It was late the next day by the time the ship docked at the New Romney port. Nicholas walked down the pier with his steward and squire at his side. Muriel followed behind him quietly.

He hadn’t had a wink of sleep last night with her lying at the foot of his bed. He’d meant to teach her a lesson by kissing her and teasing her and leaving her wanting more. Instead, he’d only managed to get hot and bothered, and more than once that night he’d almost gotten off his bed and laid his hard body atop her and had his way with her to find his release.

But he hadn’t. Instead, he’d just lain there frustrated as all hell, wishing he’d never kissed her in the first place. Now that he knew what he was missing out on, it only made him want her even more. He kept thinking of the magic she worked with her fingers, spinning the spindle in her hand as she showed him her skill. God’s eyes, he envied the damn thing right now, wishing it was his spindle she rolled in her apt fingers instead. Just thinking of it made him hard again, and he knew he would have to do something to get this desirable girl off his mind.

“Muriel,” called a voice from the wharf, and he looked up to see the girl’s brother as well as another woman standing there waving at them.

“Isaac,” she cried out and ran past Nicholas and threw herself into her brother’s arms. She kissed him on the cheek over and over, and once again that envy grew within his chest as he wanted the person she kissed to be him. What the hell was the matter with him to be feeling this way?

“We were so worried about you when you disappeared yesterday, and wondered what became of you,” said the girl.

“Cecily, what are you doing here?” Muriel asked her friend. “Don’t you know how dangerous it is for a woman to be on the docks?”

“Hah!” Nicholas laughed aloud, thinking it amusing that she should be the one giving that advice. Well, he had all their attention now.

“Muriel, are you . . . with them?” asked Cecily in a soft voice. Her brother glared at him and Nicholas suddenly felt very unwanted.

“Cecily, this is Baron Romney,” she said in introduction.

“You can all call me Lord Nicholas,” he replied, hoping to smooth over the thick air between them.

“My lord,” said Cecily, bowing her head and curtseying. Muriel’s brother bowed to him as well.

“Sir Stanwick,” Nicholas said to his steward. “Please give word to the Coast Waiter to supervise the unloading of my cargo, and have it shipped to the manner house anon.”

“Aye, my lord,” said the steward and hurried away toward the ship.

“Roger, why are you still standing here?” he asked his squire. “Find the stableboy and return quickly with my horse. Or did you expect me to walk back to the manor?”

“Sorry, my lord,” said his squire, glancing back over his shoulder at the little entourage as he hurried away to do as ordered.

“Muriel, where were you?” asked Isaac.

“I was trapped on the baron’s ship and ended up in Hastings,” she explained.

“Trapped?” asked Nicholas. “How about telling them the truth? In an attempt to avoid me, you wandered onto my ship and ended up as a stowaway.”

“You did?” Cecily’s eyes grew wide with amazement.

“It’s not important,” said Muriel with a dismissive wave of her hand as if she really believed it to be a trivial issue. This girl had no fear of her superiors and while that infuriated him, it intrigued him at the same time. “What is important is if your stepfather hired Isaac as his journeyman or not. Did he?” she asked with hope in her voice.

By the way the other two looked at each other, Nicholas knew that he hadn’t.

“Isaac?” asked Muriel.

Isaac just looked downward and shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Muriel,” said Cecily. “My stepfather wanted to, really he did. But the guild wouldn’t let him. They are still very angry over what happened with your father.”

“My father is dead! Can’t they just let things go? They already took most our belongings. Didn’t that make them happy? By the rood, why don’t they understand we had nothing to do with our father’s actions and decisions?”

Neither of them answered. They just looked at the ground, and Nicholas knew it was because he was standing there and they felt insecure talking about it.

“Well, at least we still have the land and will have income from the shepherds who use it.” Muriel was obviously trying to stay positive for her younger brother’s sake.

“Muriel,” said her brother in a small voice. “The shepherds have taken their sheep to other fields to graze, and are gone as well.”

“What? Why?” Her eyes darted over to the marshland off in the distance, that was clearly visible from the docks. Nicholas glanced over there as well to see that what the boy said was true.

“The guild convinced them to go to other fields, and even gave them a better deal than they were getting from you,” added Cecily.

“Nay!” Her voice quavered and Nicholas almost wondered if she were going to cry. Damn, he hoped not. That was his weakness. He couldn’t deny a crying woman, no matter how hard he tried. “We will have no income at all now,” she retorted.

Nicholas cleared his throat, subtly reminding them that he was still standing there. “Isaac,” he said. “You and your sister are welcome to live at my manor house, and work for me until your sister has paid off the debt.”

“I have paid it off,” she spat, obviously still angry about the sheep. “Or did you forget about the ring you snatched from my finger?”

“Mother’s ring?” asked Isaac, sounding horrified.

“Yes,” she answered. “The baron demanded it from me.”

He heard Cecily gasp. He had no doubt in his mind now how rumors got started from wagging tongues. The way she relayed the story was not how he remembered it at all.

“I am only holding onto it until you manage to pay off the debt, if I must remind you. After that, the ring will belong to you again. Come along then, and we’ll get settled into the manor.”

“I haven’t agreed to your offer yet, if I must remind
you
,” she said, raising her chin in defiance.

“Well, I suggest you decide quickly. After all, as I told you – I only make an offer once.”

“I need time to talk to my brother and decide.”

“Go ahead.” He held out his hand, expecting her to do it, but of course the girl didn’t do anything expected of her. He was starting to realize this quickly.

“I’ll need time to decide.” Her eyes darted back to her brother. “I’ll consider your offer and let you know.”

“I don’t like to be told what to do,” he growled.

“Then what do you suggest, my lord?”

He thought for a moment before he answered. If he was too harsh, he’d end up scaring her away, and he didn’t really want that. “You have two days to decide,” he told her. “On the third day I will come to your door and you will give me your answer. And if you decide not to take my – very generous offer – you will not only never see your ring again, but you will need to make your rent payments on time. If you miss one payment – I will take my marshlands back, and rent them to another merchant and you will never do business with me again.”

She clenched her jaw tightly, and looked over to her brother and friend. They were both just staring at her with their eyes wide, waiting for her answer.

“Fine. Then that is what we will do.”

“I have your horse, my lord.” The squire appeared with the reins of his horse in hand. As Nicholas turned and mounted, he heard Cecily whispering to Muriel.

“Oh, Muriel you are so lucky. The baron is very handsome You should take his offer.”

He smiled, but did not let on that he had heard them.

“Lucky? I’m not so sure,” she whispered back to her friend. Once again, Muriel was probably going to spin more than wool. She might be a proficient spinster, but he had the feeling she could spin a story better than even his bards.

“Why do you say that?” asked Cecily. “Don’t you think he likes you?”

“Wants me is more like it,” she answered smugly. “But when he tried to bed me, I turned him down cold.”

Nicholas gripped the reins tightly at hearing this, causing his horse to turn a full circle. He almost said something to her, but the only reason he didn’t was because of her next words.

“Turned him down cold I did, because I have no interest in him whatsoever. But next time I might just tease him a little and lead him on, to let him know what he’ll be missing out on.”

Tease him, indeed, he thought to himself. If that’s the way she wanted to play the game, then next time he might not put himself through the misery of lying there aching for a girl who supposedly didn’t want him in return.

Chapter 6

Nicholas stood on the wharf two days later, accompanied by Richard, his Surveyor of Customs, and Paul, his Land Surveyor. The Surveyor of Customs’ job was to watch over the Collector and Controller of Customs who collected the taxes due from imports and exports. The Land Surveyor kept an eye on the Coast Waiter who supervised the unloading of cargo from home ports, as well as the Land Waiter who watched over the loading and unloading of goods from foreign ports.

He studied the parchment with the tallies from his Searcher listing the cargo that had come in on ships and should be taxed. Then he looked at the tallies from his Collector of Customs. He did the numbers quickly in his head, and he could see that something didn’t add up.

“Paul, are you sure there hasn’t been any smuggling aboard the foreign boats?” he asked.

“Nay, my lord,” said Paul with a shake of his head. “Every piece of cargo has been accounted for.”

“And Richard, are you sure the imports and exports have all been taxed accordingly?”

“I have watched as both halves of the seal are placed on the document tallies by both the Collector and Controller of Customs themselves.”

“I see.” He just nodded and put the parchments into his pocket. “You are free to go. Just keep a close eye on what goes on at the docks.”

“Aye, my lord,” they both said, and bowed and made their way across the crowded wharf. The creaking of winches filled the air, as barrels and boxes were lifted in the loading and unloading of the trade ships. Merchants from town mingled with the merchants from overseas and from up and down the English coastline.

“Shoes and leather goods for sale or trade,” called out a man walking by, holding a shoe above his head.

“Spices from the far east, get them now before they’re gone,” came another shout from a man with a heavy accent.

Gulls swooped overhead as a vendor walked by with a large flat tray of freshly baked bread. The man swished one hand in the air and growled at the pesky birds as they tried to snitch a beak full of food as he walked by. The air was crisp this morning since the sun was hidden behind the clouds. The waves slapped against the sides of the ships all lined up and docked in the harbor, making a rhythm all its own.

Nicholas knew there was a discrepancy somewhere, and he would have to find it before King Edward returned to England. As baron of the port, he was responsible for the dozen main men who assured that trade and taxes were being carried out properly. If things didn’t add up, it was his name and reputation that would be brought before his liege lord. If he wasn’t sharp at controlling the ports as well as the ships that were in service to the king, than his position would be replaced by someone who could do the job better.

He couldn’t have that. He had to find who and how they were cheating the king out of taxes if it was the last thing he ever did.

“My lord, my lord!” Roger ran through the crowd, dodging fishermen with nets slung over their shoulders, and women with small children who’d accompanied their merchant husbands here today.

“Roger, what is it?” he asked, thinking the boy tended to get too excited about things and he needed to keep a calm composure if he planned on keeping his position as his squire.

“Thank the heavens I finally found you. It is terrible, I tell you. I just can’t believe it is so.”

“Squire, calm yourself and regain your composure. The fishermen and merchants are starting to stare. Now not another word until I tell you to speak.”

Nicholas headed down the wharf, nodding as he was acknowledged by the bows of his knights and the curtsies of the whores who were hoping to get into his bed. A ship’s whistle split the air in the harbor as another ship lined up to wait its turn to dock. Finally, when he got to the end of the wharf, he turned back toward his squire, hooked his thumbs in his belt and looked out over the sea.

“All right, Roger. Now you can tell me – in a calm voice – what is so important that you have to hunt me down on the docks yelling like a wild banshee?”

“Your steward asked me to find you. He said you would want to know. He discovered it this morning after the servants cleaned up the meal. He said he’s not sure how it happened, but he had an eyewitness in town so he knows it’s true.”

“God’s breath, you are exasperating, squire. You ramble on worse than the gossiping alewives. Now out with it. What the hell are you talking about?”

“Henry, the kitchen servant who carves the meat just the way you like it. It’s him. You do remember him, don’t you? He also makes that tart with fish and fruit that you like so much.”

“Of course I remember him. He’s better with a knife than any of the Carvers, and no one can come close making the Tart de brymlent that I love so well. Now what about Henry?” Nicholas was getting hungry just thinking about his favorite meal.

“He’s up to his old tricks again.”

“Tricks? What tricks? What in bloody hell are you trying to say?”

“I’m trying to tell you that your servant has run away. He’s been seen in town, and is obviously hiding out, wanting to become a free man.”

“Bid the devil! Not again. This is the third time this year.” Nicholas ran a weary hand over his face. “We need to find him and bring him back immediately.” Nicholas’s stomach growled at the disappointment. “Why the hell are you just standing there, squire? Get my horse from the dock stables and let’s go. I’ll not lose my servants to the town and have no one left to work in my manor. Now hurry up, I say. This is important.”

“Aye, my lord.” His squire nodded but just stood there.

“Why are you still standing there?”

“I’m being calm, my lord. Just like you.” The boy looked up and smiled and Nicholas reached out and swatted him on the head.

“Point made, you fool. Now if you want to remain my squire and continue in training to someday become a knight, I suggest you do as ordered. Because I won’t have a slow squire, no matter how much noble blood flows through your veins. Now go!”

“Aye milord, right away!” Roger ran through the crowd, bumping into people along the way. He knocked into a merchant carrying a basket of fruit, and it spilled at his feet, with apples rolling across the dock. He stopped and quickly helped the man scoop it up before he shouted out once again. “Out of my way, everyone. I’m on a mission. Move aside, the baron is coming through!”

Nicholas just shook his head and smiled. He remembered when he was young, he was a lot like this boy. Roger was wild at times, but had potential to be a good knight some day.

He looked over to the marshlands he owned, feeling bad that no sheep grazed in the pasture. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the girl’s ring and held it between his fingers. It sparkled in the sunlight, a gem in the rough. Just like her. He jammed it onto his little finger and headed towards the stable.

It had been a long two days, but the girl’s time was up. He would stop at her home while he was in town, and today she would give him his answer.

* * *

“Muriel, you really should take the baron’s offer,” said Cecily, as she and Muriel made their way through the streets of the town, trying to sell some of her belongings. Her brother was up ahead, having had more luck than them. He’d managed to sell off their table and benches on Tanner’s Row. It was a smelly, disgusting part of town, and the people who could be found lingering in the streets could not be trusted. Muriel was thankful Isaac hadn’t been robbed on his way back. They were now headed down Brewers Street.

She didn’t usually go to this end of town. Her shop was a two-storey stone and wood building, like the rest of the establishments in town. The Carpenters’ Guild and the Stone Masons’ Guild had been commissioned to do the work and keep up repairs as well. All the shops on each street were connected in a row. The second storey extended far out over the first, and often times people cut holes in the eaves to use as their privy. One never walked directly under these overhangs, because if so, they might end up covered in urine or feces.

“I won’t go work at the castle as nothing more than a servant,” complained Muriel, holding up her skirts, making her way through the sludge-filled streets. She wore pattens, or wooden platforms on her feet that were held on by leather straps. This ensured that her feet were high enough off the ground and wouldn’t be soiled as she trudged through feces, mud, discarded fish heads, and animal entrails in the streets. Most people wore their leather shoes with the pattens, but she opted to leave her shoes at home and wear the pattens over her hose that had leather sewn to the bottom of the feet instead. This way, her shoes were sure to keep clean since she only had the one pair.

“But you’ll never be able to keep the shop now,” Cecily told her. “You know that as well as I. You need money, and the only way to get it is to do as the baron offered.”

They passed up the town alehouse that had a large barrel hanging over the door, telling people what they sold inside. Across the street was a bakery with a large wooden sign with a painted loaf of bread on it. And down the street at the corner was the cordwainer’s shop with a large wooden shoe hanging above his door.

“Silver spoons for a shilling each,” she called out, holding out her last two eating spoons to a merchant passing by.

“One shillin’ fer the both of them,” the man said, holding the coin in her face. He was old and smelled like urine, and was dressed in clothes meant for those of a lower class. He obviously wasn’t a guild member, but then again the guild wouldn’t trade with her so she had no other choice.

“Fine,” she said, no longer having the will to barter. She snatched the coin from the man and gave him the spoons.

“How would you like to buy a loaf of fresh baked bread for only a shillin’,” asked the man, now putting a steaming hot loaf of brown bread under her nose. She hadn’t had anything to eat yet today, and her stomach growled and her mouth watered. She held the shilling in her hand he’d just given her, staring at it blankly. She was so hungry she could no longer think straight. All she knew is that she wanted the bread.

“Aye, I want it,” she said, and probably would have given the money to the man which was about a dozen times too much for the bread, if Cecily hadn’t pushed her hand away.

“Nay,” said Cecily, handing the man a half-pence instead. “We’ll take the bread but since you already got a steal on the spoons, not to mention were trying to cheat her, you’ll get only this instead.”

The man looked down at the half-pence and frowned. He ran a hand over his long beard and mustache. “My bread is worth twice that.”

“Ah, so you admit you were trying to swindle my friend. I should report you for trying to cheat a guild member.”

“Guild member?” He looked up, perusing her, as if he were trying to assess if what she said was true. Then, obviously not wanting to take the chance it wasn’t a lie, he squinted one eye and nodded. “All right. I’ll take it,” he said, exchanging the bread for the coin and leaving quickly.”

“Muriel, what is the matter with you?” asked Cecily once the man left. She broke off a piece of bread and handed the rest of the loaf to her. “You almost seem as if you want to be without money. And you tell me you don’t want to go with the baron, but I don’t believe you.”

Muriel greedily ripped off a chunk of bread and stuck it in her mouth and chewed. Never had a plain brown bread tasted so good. She looked up at her friend. Cecily was eight and ten years of age, just like her, and they’d grown up together. While Cecily was tall and a brunette, Muriel was a short blond. Muriel still considered them sisters, since she didn’t have a sister of her own. Cecily was a good friend, and they always watched out for each other.

“I’m sorry, Cecily. I’m not sure what’s the matter with me lately. Normally nothing gets past me where the price of goods are concerned.”

“Give me the rest of the things you are trying to sell. I’ll do it for you, or you’ll be giving away everything for free in a few minutes.”

“Nay, I have to find a way to make money so I can take care of Isaac.”

“Isaac isn’t a child anymore, Muriel. You need to start thinking of yourself, not him all the time. It’s past time you marry and have a family, and you just need to find a man who will take care of you. Hopefully one who has money and a good business. I hear the cordwainer is looking for a wife. And the son of the chandler is of marrying age now too. He has just turned Journeyman and has a very bright future ahead of him.” Cecily giggled at her jest.

Muriel looked at her friend and just shook her head at her friend’s play on words. “I’m not interested in the chandler’s son, no matter how ‘bright’ his candles may burn. He is overweight, ugly, and is already missing some teeth.”

“Then what about the cordwainer?” asked Cecily, stretching her neck to see his shop at the end of the street. “He could really keep things afoot for you. I hear he’s high-spirited and has a lot of . . . sole.” Cecily giggled again.

“Not funny,” Muriel sniffed. “Mayhap the man can keep those six children of his in shoes, but I don’t want to be their mother. Besides, he’s old. One of his children is almost the same age as me!” Muriel stretched her back and yawned.

“Then just go back home and lie down, Muriel. You look very tired.”