Beloved Abductor (11 page)

‘Safe?’

‘From the two men,’ muttered Joan.

‘You are safer with them than without’ Felicia picked up her blanket. ‘I feel safer, anyway.’ She pulled the blanket about her shoulders and lay thankfully on the pallet. The blanket smelt of goat but she was not going to allow the odour to keep her awake. Shutting her eyes, she murmured a prayer beneath her breath. Never would she have admitted to Joan that she could not abide mice or rats. She jumped when Joan spoke out of the darkness.

‘I know you denied earlier having a lover but Philip swore one such helped you to escape. That Edmund is the one, isn’t he? I have seen the way he looks at you.’

Felicia said wearily, ‘You are mistaken. Philip cannot be trusted to speak the truth. I am certain he killed his wife in order to marry me. He wants Meriet, although he says he hates the place.’

‘Tell me then, how you met him?’

Felicia hesitated, then she began her tale with having met Edmund on Sir Gervaise’s manor, whilst attempting to flee from Philip by escaping from the castle their cousin had seized by force. She had fallen from her horse in her flight and Master Edmund had tended her in his role of physician and taken her to Master Dickon’s house in Shrewsbury where she had found a welcome. ‘We left there once my condition was much improved and the two men acted as my escort because they are on their way to join the Lord Edward,’ Felicia concluded.

‘Oh! So that is how it was.’ Joan yawned. ‘I think I might be able to sleep now.’

Felicia sighed with relief and listened to her cousin shifting on the pallet, until at last she lay still. But to Felicia’s annoyance sleep eluded her. She thought about Ralph’s talk of strangers. Were they Philip’s men? Why had he felt a need to burn her house? It must have been pure devilry on his part? She forced herself to think of something less disturbing. Edmund filled her thoughts and warmth spread through her body. She groaned inwardly, thinking about him was even more disturbing but in a different way. She would never get to sleep at this rate.

There came a scrabbling sound, and then a squeaking. For a while she lay as stiff as a board, but when something brushed her leg she could bear it no longer. Scrambling to her feet, she shot across the floor, out of the doorway and down the steps. She sank to the ground, her breath coming fast, and huddled into the woollen blanket that hung about her shoulders. She lay, staring into the glowing embers of the fire, trying to steady her heartbeats. Then a humped shape a few feet from her moved and she held her breath.

Chapter Eight

Felicia caught the gleam of a knife as Edmund rolled over. ‘What is it? What is wrong?’ he asked.

‘N-Nothing.’ Felicia’s teeth chattered uncontrollably as she pulled the blanket tightly about her.

‘Nothing?’

She nodded and closed her eyes tightly, trying to shut out his probing gaze. He would think her an utter dolt. There was a short silence.

‘That cousin of yours hasn’t been upsetting you again, has she?’ He spoke with a vehemence that caused Felicia’s eyelids to fly open.

‘It is nothing like that!’ She flushed beneath his scrutiny. From his expression, she guessed he would not be fobbed off with a lie. ‘It is mice ...I cannot abide them. The thought of their little scratching feet scrabbling and the sight of their long naked tails!’ She shuddered.

‘Mice!’ There was a hint of a quiver in his voice.

‘I knew you would laugh!’ she said indignantly, moving away from him.

‘I am not laughing.’ The grooves in his cheeks deepened, and a muscle twitched in the bare column of his throat.

‘You are! Or you would like to! You do not know how utterly demoralising it is to confess to a fear of mice.’

His smile grew. ‘We are all afraid of something.’

‘Afraid! You? I don’t believe you fear anything.’

‘Don’t you?’ Startled, he leaned up on an elbow. ‘I’m afraid of you,’ he said seriously.

She flushed, lowering her eyes, veiling their loveliness with a sweep of long dark lashes.

‘Don’t you believe me?’ He reached out and took one of her hands, feeling it tremble. ‘I think you’re a witch.’

Felicia peered at him from beneath her lashes. ‘That is even more foolish than my fear of mice,’ she said in a low voice. ‘You called me a wanton yesterday.’

‘A wanton witch who has set an enchantment about me. I want you, and it hurts here.’ He placed her hand over his heart.

Her pulse raced. ‘This is a foolishness. It is the ale and the starlight; they have gone to your head,’ she said unsteadily. ‘I—I had best get back to Joan.’ She made to pull her hand out of his grasp, but he held it tightly.

‘Haven’t you a remedy to break the spell, beautiful witch?’ He gazed into her face, and she could see the glint of his eyes catching the starlight. ‘A kiss might do it,’ he said. ‘A kiss from a witch, who knows what might happen.’

‘You’re jesting. You cannot be trusted, Master Abductor!’ She attempted to remove her hand from his grasp, aware of just how much she wanted him to kiss her.

When an owl screeched, she instinctively shrank towards Edmund and he put his arm about her. They both looked up at the bird as it swooped, then swung up again with its prey dangling from its talons.

‘One down,’ he murmured.

She could not help but chuckle.

A delightful sound, thought Edmund.

‘No doubt you consider me foolish,’ she said lightly.

‘Perhaps. Maybe it is the starlight that is making fools of us both.’

His arm tightened about her, and the smile froze on her face as his searching mouth found hers with barely any effort, or protestations from her. His mouth brushed hers, feather-light, in a sensuous joining. She thought she would float away as he lowered her against the turf. Then he lifted his head and she drew breath, her breasts rising and falling hurriedly as she stared up into his shadowy face. She blinked up at him, feeling a heat at her core.

‘Witch,’ he muttered, one of his hands running slowly up her body and coming to rest beneath her breast.

‘No—No witch or wanton, Edmund,’ she stammered. ‘Just a maid. We must not continue with this.’

‘Must not, Felicia,’ he whispered fiercely. ‘But you want me to kiss you and touch you, don’t you?’ He caught her to him, moulding her body against his with urgent hands, and covered her face with gentle biting kisses.

Suddenly she was aware of Dickon stirring a few feet away and blurted out. ‘Aye, but it is a madness! Please let me go.’ A sob burst in her throat.

Edmund stilled. Holy Mary, mother of God, he wanted her! But he had the most ridiculous desire to shield her from aught that would hurt her and it appeared it was himself whom she needed protecting from. He suddenly felt like laughing. How had he got himself into this tangle?

Felicia found herself suddenly free, and at once moved away, scrambling to her feet before reaching down to grab her blanket.

‘Best go quickly,’ he whispered, leaning on an elbow and following her with his gaze. ‘Watch for mice,’ he added wickedly.

‘Beast!’ she muttered, before running swiftly across the grass and up the steps. She paused in the doorway and listened, but all was silent.

*

Joan, who had lain wide-eyed in the darkness, shut her eyes quickly. She had slept only fitfully since Philip Meriet had raped her, trembling each time a sound disturbed the stillness of the night. But with Felicia to keep her company, Joan had managed to fall asleep but then the hooting of an owl had roused her. After the first heart-stopping moment she had begun to relax, then she had caught the murmur of voices outside—one softly feminine whom she had recognised as belonging to her cousin. Anger, hot and uncontrollable, surged through her slender frame. Flissie had lied to her! Master Edmund was her lover! Why was life so unjust? She had no one to care for her and it was unlikely that any man would want her now she was no longer a virgin. Tears oozed from beneath her eyelashes. Even as Philip had almost suffocated her to force her into submission, he had muttered Felicia’s name against her throat. Joan yearned for a man who would cherish and protect her and she was filled with grief and envy and wanted revenge for her sufferings.

*

Felicia woke to the sun slanting on her face. She sat up slowly, wondering what had woken her and gazed about her for Joan, only to realise her cousin was not there. Felicia wasted no time getting up and going over to the doorway and looking outside. The stunted outline of her house showed stark against rays of splintered light through cream, apricot and gold-edged clouds. What a beautiful morning! It was hard to believe that Meriet Manor House was no more and that somewhere her countrymen were preparing for battle. Her heart sank. Where was Edmund and Dickon? Then she saw their horses cropping the grass and realised they could not be far away.

For several moments she relived the emotions Edmund had roused within her when he kissed and caressed her, and she yearned to repeat the experience. Yet he had called her a witch! But surely he didn’t really believe that she had bewitched him? She needed to see him right now, so she could read his expression and know what he felt towards her. But where was he—and where was Joan? The thought of her cousin depressed her. It was difficult to imagine that Joan would ever be her old self again. She had been so warm-hearted and vivaciousness but Philip appeared to have destroyed those traits within her.

Now guilt ridden Felicia went back inside the keep, to put on her brown surcote as she had naught else to wear. She ran down the steps back out into the sunshine and walked through the ruins of her house and into the garden to reach the well. Swiftly she turned the handle and ran the bucket down until she heard the splash of water. She let the pail run a little further, then brought it up.

It was as Felicia cupped her hands and took a drink that she felt as though she were being watched, but a slow glance about her revealed no one. All was quiet except for the wind stropping the leaves on the trees. She put her hands into the pail again and rinsed her face with the cold clear water, her nerves taut, her ears pricked for the sound of footsteps, but none came. Yet still she had an eerie sense of not being alone. She dabbed her face with the end of her veil and then turned and ran through the herb garden and the remains of the house until breathlessly she came to the foot of the steps leading to the tower.

Joan suddenly appeared in the doorway, staring down at her. ‘Is there anything to eat? I’m hungry.’ She had braided her barley-white hair and washed her face.

‘There was plenty of meat left. I wrapped it in a napkin and put it in a crock.’ Felicia smiled up at her, despite her cousin continued to stare unblinkingly down into her face.

‘You know what men are like. They might have eaten it all,’ said Joan tartly.

‘And they might not have.’ Felicia’s voice rose. ‘Joan, we need Edmund and Dickon and their horses. Philip took ours. I understand your anxiety, but do be reasonable.’ She took one of Joan’s hands, stroking the back of it soothingly. ‘Love, you said that you do not want to stay here, so you have to trust them.’

Joan withdrew her hand from Felicia’s grasp. ‘I have been thinking of going into a nunnery,’ she muttered. ‘There is nothing for me now for no decent man would have me.’

‘Such a life would not suit you! You have never been the least bit religious,’ said Felicia, dismayed.

‘I did at least believe there was a God of justice. If I bear a child to that devil, I shall kill myself,’ she cried, surprising Felicia by flinging her arms around her. ‘You will not leave me, will you? Or cast me off, Flissie?’ She buried her head against Felicia’s shoulder.

‘Of course not.’ She smoothed a curl from Joan’s forehead. ‘Only do not talk of killing yourself, for I cannot bear it.’

‘Even if you marry, Flissie?’ insisted Joan. ‘Promise me that you will not be rid of me!’

Felicia was startled. ‘I have made no mention of marriage!’

‘Philip wants to wed you and said he would kill you if you married someone else. He is evil, Flissie! Maybe he is in league with the devil himself.’ She stared at Felicia from frightened eyes.

Some of Joan’s fear seemed to transport itself to Felicia. Dear God, what if it were true, and Philip had spies out looking for her? An irrational terror had her by the throat, so that she was unaware of approaching footsteps. Only when Edmund spoke did she turn and look at him.

‘What is it? What is wrong?’ he said urgently. ‘You look frightened. Has anyone been here during our absence?’

Her fear ebbed and she told herself that she was worrying unnecessarily. Philip was miles away and unlikely to be able to seek her out for an age. He could even be slain in a battle. A sigh escaped her. ‘No! I was just remembering the past and felt a little sad.’

‘That is to be expected in the circumstances.’ Edmund took her hand and squeezed it gently before helping her to rise. ‘I have brought newly-baked bread from Ralph’s wife. I thought we might need extra for the journey.’

‘Have you and Dickon broken your fast?’ asked Felicia, aware of the strength in his fingers.

Dickon shook his head. ‘We had a dip in the river.’ He shivered, and rolled his eyes expressively. ‘It was Edmund’s idea. He has this liking for water.’

Edmund smiled faintly and released Felicia’s hand. ‘Let us eat now, and be on our way before the sun rises much higher.’

They ate in silence, and it was but a quarter of an hour before they set off, up through the wooded hills. The air had lost its coolness for the sun was already climbing the sky. They travelled for some miles, before Edmund suggested they paused and had some of the bread and slaked their thirst.

‘Is the monastery much further?’ asked Felicia.

‘Another hour, and we should reach the Malvern hills. You are not too tired, Felicia?’ He sounded truly concerned.

‘I am not too tired,’ she reassured him, warmed by the tone of his voice.

She glanced at Joan, who sat a few feet away, her arms clasped about her hunched-up knees. Dickon sat a few yards from her, his feet dangling over an outcrop of rock into thin air. Every now and again Felicia had noticed that, while they ate, his eyes would go to her cousin’s strained face.

‘You are worrying about your cousin?’ murmured Edmund.

She said in a low voice, ‘She has mentioned entering a nunnery and I deem that would be a mistake.’

‘You must not feel guilty,’ he said, pulling a blade of grass through his fingers.

‘I cannot help but do so,’ she blurted out. ‘Not when she says that she will kill herself if she were to discover that she was with child by Philip.’

‘Even so you are not to responsible for his behaviour.’ He frowned. ‘You must not allow her to lay the blame on your shoulders! It would be a mistake to do so.’

Felicia knew he was right but she could understand her cousin’s reasoning. ‘She believes Philip to be in league with the devil.’

‘She is probably not the first person to think that,’ said Edmund. ‘But she is also not in her right mind.’

Felicia sighed. ‘She is terrified I will cast her off.’

‘Surely she knows you better than that?’

‘I would like to believe so but fear does strange things to people.’

‘I would not argue but even so…’ Edmund’s voice trailed off as Dickon turned towards him and asked when would they be moving on.

After that there was no chance to discuss Joan and Philip further.

Felicia was beginning to feel weary when Edmund eventually pointed ahead to a huddle of buildings. The horses quickened their pace as though they, too, knew that journey’s end was in sight for that day. Within a short time they were splashing through a ford near some stepping-stones and came to a gatehouse. A porter emerged as they approached, his hands tucked into the wide sleeves of his black habit. He had a small round head with greying hair about his tonsure. As his eyes rested on Edmund, his expression lightened.