Mistress to the Norman Lord Read online

  The youth swallowed. "She lies. Trust women to make false accusations against good and honest men."

  Guy turned icy calm. That was all he needed to hear to harden his resolve into stone. "I find her credible."

  The leer that broke on the youth's face now was enough to hang him for. "I'm glad she's pleased your lordship. But she's like that with everyone. Easiest strumpet within a day's journey, she is."

  Guy sat quite still, breathing deeply. Then turned to Luke, who had waited patiently to one side, and nodded.

  "By authority of his lordship here," Luke announced in a clear voice, "I hereby assume the office of bailiff to this village. As such, it is my duty to find and punish those who offend against the King's law." He paused for effect, then directed an impassive gaze at uncle and nephew in turn. "For conspiring to deprive a widow of her livelihood, for attempting to coerce a woman into marriage, and for breaking the King's peace with threats and persecution, I order that you be thoroughly flogged and then cast off from his lordship's land, never to return."

  The two men stood frozen, white-faced. "How will we make our living?" the older one demanded.

  "That is not my concern." Luke stared him down, the way he'd dealt with any number of soldiers under Guy's command. "You have abused your position here, which is an affront to the lord who entrusted it to you. Therefore you are no longer welcome on his land."

  The men stared at Luke, and then at Guy. "My lord, we beseech you - " the older man began.

  Guy turned away, bored. He'd heard it all before. Men who'd given no thought to consequences while they thought themselves powerful could plead like the very Devil when they suddenly realised how slender their hope of protection was.

  He didn't care. He had an estate to run, and once these vermin were cleared off it there was plenty of real work to do.

  Without Aelfid. His heart wavered at that thought. She'd gone, she was out of sight, and there was no way he could go after her without embarrassing himself in front of all all his men. In front of his tenants, too, who stood awed - but not displeased - as armoured men seized the offenders and dragged them off to be flogged.

  No, he couldn't go after her. Have her brought to him, maybe, but even then...

  The truth was, he couldn't afford to make a fool of himself over a peasant girl. It would weaken his authority, set him up for ridicule and insubordination. What respect could men give him, once it became clear that any village scrap could have him for the asking.

  It hurt, though, to let her go. To sit motionless, watching the men who'd hounded her receive their just punishment under his men's expert hands, and never once glance aside to check if she was there to see it too.

  ***

  It had been horrible. Aelfid shivered at the recollection. She'd wanted them stopped, yes, Osulf and his uncle both, she'd hated them and wished them ill, but even so...

  When it came to it, much as they deserved every lash, she'd winced in sympathy and prayed for it all to end. Finally it did, but by then both their backs were bloodied and raw, she thought they must be scarred for life. And cast out, homeless and lordless, with no means of support, under sentence of death if they ever dared set foot on Guy's land again.

  That ought to have made her feel safe. But it didn't, just made her cold with fear.

  Everyone she knew, all the people she'd grown up with, were at the mercy of Guy and his new bailiff. Now that she knew what those men were capable of, she could not feel any trust in them at all, for herself or anyone else.

  All she felt was blank terror.

  Even Osulf and his uncle had never gone so hard on anyone, not that she knew of. They were vicious, yes, but not like this...

  She felt queasy at the thought of how casually she had lingered with Guy, how frankly she'd spoken to him, how wanton she'd been. Suppose he chose to punish her for that? She flinched from the notion, couldn't bear to witness what her imagination showed. Because Osulf had been horrible, but never brutal. Not with her.

  During the time she'd spent with Guy on easy terms, she had come to believe that she knew him. Trusted him. But this other Guy, this ruthless lord with the cold eyes and such cruel men under his command, was not someone she knew nor wanted to know.

  He wasn't a man she could feel safe with, ever again.

  So it was good that she wasn't likely to see him any more. He'd ridden away without a word or glance in her direction, without enquiring after her family, without showing the least interest in their home or their welfare or their lives.

  Which was for the best. Of course it was.

  Aelfid allowed herself one twinge at the memory of her unfinished dress. It would have been so beautiful, lovelier than anything she owned. If Guy had seen her in it only once, and kept that vision while she treasured the memory of him, she would have been content.

  But that wasn't to be, and she must learn to be pleased at having escaped with no worse scars than the pain of losing him, the grief of knowing she never could belong with him. Not really, not as a woman and he as a man, not as equals in love.

  She would have liked to keep the dress, though. Not to wear, nor flaunt before anyone else. Just to keep, and look at, and touch. Caress, even, in solitude, unobserved, and imagine as she did so that it was his body that tingled under her hands.

  Because he'd worn a tunic of the same material, all the long ride from his castle to her home.

  ***

  CHAPTER 6

  She was gone from his life. Gone utterly. And he was glad.

  Guy slumped in his seat. Of course he was glad. Everything was under control in that scrap of a village, he'd punished the wrongdoers and made sure they'd never trouble her or anyone else, at least not where he could reach them. He'd set a good man as bailiff, who would right any other wrongs and see that the village was managed well from now on. And Guy was free at last to devote himself entirely to his own work, without Aelfid's entrancing presence at the castle to distract him.

  This hadn't been his plan. He'd meant to take her there, deal out justice, meet her family and ensure they were well. Then bring her back home.

  Home? He started at that thought, flushed with embarrassment even in the solitude of his room. Her home was in that village. This was here, his home and not hers, there was no power on Earth nor in Heaven that could ever bridge the gap between them. He might bring her here as his mistress, it was a tempting thought, he dwelt on it for longer than he should. But in the end, he shrugged it off.

  He was better off without her. Of course he was. What had he been thinking, he must have gone mad, he'd lost himself entirely in the fantasy of an equal love. Which could never be possible, not between a lord and his serf, not even between man and woman of the same rank. God made them different, set them in different spheres on Earth below, as He did the stars and angels in Heaven above. That wasn't something Guy could change, his power didn't reach that far. He must learn to be content in his own castle, alone among a hundred men, while she slept elsewhere.

  Irritably he rose and paced the room. It was too small, cramped even, he flung open the door and strode out into the rest of his domain. All stairs and rooms and walkways, a fortification built to defend against assault. Not a home, not a place where a man and a woman could live in peace together, caring about nothing except their children and their crops. He'd left that fantasy behind him when he ceased to be a child, or ought to have done, it was no dream worthy of a grown man.

  Guy paused. Looked around at where he'd ended up. Cursed himself for a fool.

  He stood in Aelfid's room. The guest room, he corrected himself swiftly, the room he'd have housed any other temporary visitor in. Though none of them would have been peasants.

  He'd raised her up from the dirt, and treated her like a lady - even begun to believe there could be something more between them than the mere physical pleasure any man or beast craved, on occasion, as a diversion from worthier tasks. Visions had hung before him of her installed in this room as a lady and a
wife, as a woman he could turn to for confidences and discussions and advice, for comfort and affection, even for love.

  He must have been mad.

  The fabric lay on the table, abandoned. He reached out and stroked it absently, imagined her body underneath it. Envisaged the colour of her eyes and hair, enhanced into brilliance by the offset against the deep dye. Imagined touching her, undressing her, and then -

  He'd have to get married. Nothing else for it. Another woman, a suitable woman, would be perfectly adequate to satisfy that need.

  But he didn't want any other woman. Just Aelfid, here, with him. All his, to cherish and care for.

  And other matters also. He could imagine that well enough. Didn't need to imagine, because he could remember.

  Damn.

  He could send her the material, still. A gift for services rendered. Why not? It was fitting behaviour for a generous lord, to reward those who had pleased him. And then forget her, because it was a disgrace for him to allow himself to indulge in dreams of making her his wife.

  Guy called for a boy upstairs, and gave curt orders concerning the pile of fabric. Then strode off to his own room, in a worse mood than before.

  ***

  "Beg your pardon for disturbing you, madam." The new bailiff - Luke, Mother called him - ducked in through the doorway and set a bundle on the table. "My lord sends this down, in the hope that it might be useful."

  "Thank you." Mother rose, cheeks flushed, and gave Luke a warm smile.

  Aelfid tried to do the same, but couldn't manage anything beyond a polite curtsey. Every thought or mention of Guy pained her.

  She had been right to come back. Of course she had. Mother needed help with the work. But Aelfid ached with longing to be back at the castle, with Guy, in his room or hers -

  She stopped herself. All the rooms were his. None of them belonged to her. She must hold that fact before her mind always.

  This was where she belonged. Here, in this pleasant farmhouse with her own family around her. Where they were happy together, equal in every respect, facing no obstacles of power or rank. Where she was useful, needed, and loved.

  She just wished she could have all of that, and Guy also.

  "If you will permit," Luke said to Mother. He'd taken a seat, the best in the house, and now fastened a concerned gaze on her. "It seems to me that although my predecessor was entirely in the wrong seizing this house and land from you, he did have a point of sorts. Two women and a brace of children ought not to work it alone."

  "We can manage," Aelfid said defiantly.

  "Hush, child." Mother frowned at her. "That is no way to speak to a village bailiff, nor indeed a guest."

  Luke transferred the smile to Aelfid, who felt ashamed of her rudeness. "Given what has occurred, I understand your reaction. But I have no intention of taking anything from you. Instead I would like to offer you a couple of men, lately under my own command, to help with the heavy labour. They're both strong and fit, though maimed by war. You'd house and feed them, but that is all. I think they'll bring in more than enough to earn their keep."

  "You are very kind," Mother said. She threw Aelfid an uneasy glance, then turned appealing eyes on Luke. "But with things as they are - I must think of my daughter - you understand."

  "I personally guarantee their conduct," Luke said. "You need have no fear on that account. But if you or any of your children are subjected to words or actions that offend you, from them or from anyone else, let me know. I assure you such behaviour will not be tolerated under my jurisdiction."

  Mother's smile blossomed. "Thank you so much."

  Luke made a slight gesture, as if he'd meant to reach for her hand but checked himself. "If you need anything whatsoever from me, you have only to speak." His voice was low, and emotion flashed in his eyes.

  Aelfid stared at him with growing unease. Surely he couldn't be having those sorts of feelings for Mother? It was inconceivable. Obscene. Yet the way he looked at Mother, and the pitch of his voice as he spoke to her, reminded Aelfid inexorably of those treasured moments with Guy.

  "My mother tells me it's not good to live alone," Luke said, speaking softly but with a touch of humour. "Not that she would know. My older sister married out, but my younger sister lives in the house with a husband and three children. I doubt anyone gets an instant of peace."

  Mother laughed, a light and carefree sound that startled Aelfid. It had been years since Mother laughed like that. And since she looked like this, glowing and happy and...safe.

  Aelfid turned suspicious eyes on Luke. Whose affection shone now undisguised, in his eyes and in his smile. Though that could be for his own family, in speaking of them he must recall the love he felt for them, and he'd been away in Normandy for years, Mother said so, he'd served under Guy...

  Another stab to the heart brought Aelfid back to her own grief. She wanted Guy here, to look at her like that, to touch her and speak lightly of anything that came into his mind, to smile for sheer joy of seeing her, the way Luke did with Mother now.

  Oh, it was obvious. Clear as a harvest sky. Aelfid gave up the fight, and resigned herself to the prospect of a stepfather in the house.

  And it could be worse. Much worse. He seemed a good man, kind, cheerful, easy with the boys - who clustered around him now and held him to the promise of a pretend battle out in the yard.

  "You'll need to fight well," Luke said, rising with feigned reluctance. "My lord wants only capable soldiers. If you are to have any chance of serving under him, you must prove your skill."

  The boys united in a chorus of assurances that their stick swords and reed bows were a match for any enemy.

  "We'll see." Luke grinned at Mother. "If you will excuse us, madam? It appears that Angevin troops are ravaging our land."

  "That can't be endured," Mother agreed. "You drive them away, and we'll tend the hearth until your safe return."

  Aelfid winced. Father hadn't returned. But Mother seemed to have forgotten that.

  Mother watched them out of the door, then turned shining-eyed to the bundle. "I wonder what he's brought us? You know, that man is the most - " She stopped in the midst of unravelling the wrap of torn old sacking, and pulled out a swathe of fabric. "Goodness me. Aelfid, look at this! It's beautiful."

  Aelfid swallowed. The fabric was indeed beautiful, and also gashingly familiar. She had worked it with her own hands, back in Guy's castle.

  "Such quality," Mother breathed. "I'd be proud to have made something this fine. And there's enough here for each of us. A dress for you and me both, with tunics for the boys. Won't that be something for Christmas?"

  Aelfid nodded. Her chest hurt so much she could not speak.

  "Now, my darling," Mother went on, settling next to her and taking Aelfid's hand. "There is something else I wanted to say. Not in front of Luke, because I don't want him to misunderstand. But he's an important man, bailiff here now, and with the lord's full confidence. We need to show him all appropriate respect. I don't want to hear any sauciness towards him from you."

  Aelfid nodded again. There wasn't anything else to do. Mother was right.

  "It is very early," Mother went on. "I don't want to indulge in hopes beyond my standing in life. But if he should so happen to be inclined towards marriage, it would be a very fine thing for all of us. Especially you."

  Aelfid found her voice. "Why me?"

  "Because of the shameless way you flaunted yourself before the lord and all his men," Mother said coldly. "Don't imagine the village hasn't been in a stir about it. I've stuck up for you as best I can, but you left us in a dreadful mess with that heedless and selfish behaviour. No one will forget it in a hurry, but with Luke on our side we can brave that. It should at least silence the worst of the gossip-mongers."

  Aelfid stared at her mother, while anger sparked and flamed within her heart. "I did not flaunt myself."

  "You offered yourself to them as if - "

  "That was Osulf," Aelfid broke in, her voice rising
with incredulity. "I never said a word."

  "Well, and what reason did he have to imagine you willing to be offered?" Mother's voice was crisp. "I've warned you what that pretty face of yours will do to men. And still you had to stand there and make eyes at an entire company, and a lord no less - "

  Aelfid rose sharply. "That's so unfair of you."

  "Nevertheless, it is the truth. And it is I and the little ones who've suffered for it. God knows I'm grateful you came to no harm." Mother seized Aelfid's hand and clutched it tight. "You have no idea how frightened I've been. But since you didn't, and since you came safely back to us, I must tell you that your behaviour did not only expose you to great danger, it exposed us to unpleasant gossip too."

  Aelfid struggled to calm her breathing. "I am very sorry to have caused you distress," she said, rather curtly.

  "Thank you," Mother said. "You are a dear girl, if thoughtless. But having a father in the house will cure you, I hope. Luke will teach you to - "

  "Luke is not my father."

  "If what I hope for comes to pass," Mother said, blushing, "then he will become so."

  "My father died in Normandy," Aelfid said, and her voice rang hard and cold as Guy's own in delivering a verdict. "I remember it, even if you don't. And no other man will ever take his place."

  They glared at each other. Mother released Aelfid's hand. "That's an ungrateful attitude to have. I hope you'll learn better sense, and soon. Whether you do or not, I insist that you learn better manners. Immediately."

  Aelfid stormed out of the house, past the squealing boys and Luke whose friendly smile changed to a puzzled frown as she ignored him. She stalked off down the path into the meadows, and gave herself over to bitter thoughts.

  ***

  Guy ought to be satisfied with himself. He'd settled every outstanding complaint, progressed through every part of his estate, heard every case and made every decision that required his immediate attention. He'd even found occasion to verify that the damned fabric had been sent out in accordance with his orders, and had been gratefully received by Aelfid's family. Where it would presumably be put to use, whether to adorn her or cover the rest of them, he didn't much care which. Not any more.