Beloved Abductor (4 page)

‘My cousin Philip,’ she replied unsteadily.

He frowned down at her and pushed back his coif, revealing his untidy mass of tawny hair. He seemed less forbidding thus. Again he seated himself close to her, in his hand a small jar. ‘Why do you suffer him to treat you so?’ he grunted, taking off its top.

‘I had little choice,’ she replied tersely. ‘Just as I had little choice when you abducted me after drugging the wine.’ She toyed with her fingers, looking down at them.

‘That was different.’

Before Felicia could resist, he took her chin and raised her head, so that she had to look up into his eyes. She found the experience unnerving.

‘How is it different?’ she asked in a stiff voice.

He began to smooth salve on her cheek. ‘I did not hurt you. All I did was to ...’ Before Felicia could draw back, he brushed her swollen lips gently with his own.

She stiffened instantly. The gentleness of the caress filled her with confusion and uncertainty. Without realising she had done so, she had begun to relax, but now she was on her guard again.

‘Your intentions were not to stop at a kiss!’

‘You were not averse to my kisses. Or so it seemed to me.’ His mouth twisted sardonically. Slowly he trailed salve across her lips, watching the flush that rose to her cheeks. ‘Does your cousin stop at kisses?’ he murmured, straightening up.

Felicia gave an angry gasp. ‘I suffered your embraces, thinking it the only way to lull you off your guard! And it worked!’

‘So it did.’ He touched the sore spot on his head. ‘But it would not have, if your cousin’s men had not hit me so hard a few days ago.’

‘Then the saints were on my side.’ She raised her chin. ‘I am not to blame for what my cousin did to you, or to your mother, although I am sorry for what happened.’

‘Sorry?’ Edmund was suddenly angry. ‘Who are you, Mistress Meriet, to think that the saints are on your side? A whore and a murderess, that is what they say about you in your cousin’s household!’

‘It is not true!’ Felicia sprang to her feet and glared at him, angry tears filled her eyes. ‘It—is—not—true!’

‘Isn’t it?’ He rose to his feet slowly. There was a long silence.

‘What are you going to do with me?’ she asked brusquely, lacing her fingers.

‘At this moment I do not wish to do anything with you.’ He turned and rammed the jar back into his saddlebag. ‘At this moment I am hungry and wish to eat. Are you not hungry?’

Felicia did not answer, surprised by his words. She watched him lift the blackened cooking-pot over the fire. Her nerves were taut, and she wondered how long he was going to play this waiting game. Perhaps his aim was to make her more amenable to his advances. She sat down again, determined to make him see that what he planned was just as wrong as what Philip had done to his mother.

‘Would your mother, whom you seem to have cared for so much, have wished you to seek revenge in such a way?’

The directness of her question made him still as he took bread from a crock. Setting it on a platter, he began to cut it with the knife from his girdle. He stared at her, but did not reply. Since seeing her bruised and cut face, his previous plans had been overturned. She had looked so lovely that morning before she had ran from him.

Felicia let out an infuriated sigh. ‘I am innocent of all the blood that my cousin has split on this manor!’ she cried, her hands clutching the edge of the table. ‘Why do you think I was struggling with that man? I was fleeing my cousin’s attentions. He wants Meriet, the manor that came to me after the Battle of Lewes last year. Vent your anger upon him!’ Her blue eyes flashed. ‘Otherwise soon it will be too late for you to do anything to him, for he has orders from the Montfort to go to Worcester. God willing, he will have little thought to spare for me then. A quick search of this manor, perhaps, and then he will be on his way. When Earl Simon calls, Philip goes. You know the way into the castle,’ she said rapidly. ‘Surely you could get in again? You could drug him and have him brought to justice!’

‘You talk foolishly!’ He pushed the platter across the table, and went over to a far corner of the room, bringing back a flask and two horns. ‘Even if it were possible, I have other plans.’ His brow furrowed. ‘Think, my fine lady. The castle would be no safe place now to try and gain entry. It will be teeming with men in search of us and our way out.’ He paused and took a gulp of ale, meeting her gaze and trying to work out if she disliked her cousin as much as she claimed. It was not unusual for lovers to fall out. ‘Besides, if I had wanted to deal with your cousin in such a way, I could have done so. By taking you instead, I sought to make your cousin suffer.’

‘Suffer? You think my cousin will suffer because I am missing?’ Felicia threw back her head and laughed, albeit a mite hysterically.

‘You think not?’ His voice was quiet. ‘They say he killed to have you.’

‘Have me? Aye!’ The laughter died in her face, and tears glistened in her eyes. Suddenly it seemed so unreal, talking to this man she barely knew, and who plotted revenge. She looked down into the liquid gleaming in the flask on the table and poured ale into a horn. Since morning she had gone thirsty. What was the point in trying to affirm her innocence. Let him think what he liked, this—abductor! She did not care.

Edmund moved abruptly. He had expected her to deny again her involvement in the death of Philip Meriet’s wife, and was irritated that she had not done so. Taking a cloth, he removed the pot from the fire, setting bowls on the table, and spooning out the hash of peas, barley and onions.

‘Eat!’ he commanded, holding out a wooden spoon.

She looked up then. Her shoulders sagged wearily, and the large bruise showed vividly on her face beneath its smear of salve. ‘I’m not hungry.’ She took another gulp of ale.

‘I said—eat!’ He took her hand and pressed the spoon into it. ‘We have a journey before us on the morrow, and there will be no hot food on the way.’ He sat down opposite her and took up his own spoon.

Felicia looked at him. So they were not staying here, after all. Her spirits rose slightly, and she dipped her spoon into the food. ‘What direction do we take?’

‘We go south,’ he said, breaking bread and mopping his bowl with it.

‘South? Not to Chester?’

‘Didn’t I say so? Drink up, Mistress Meriet. There will be no more ale after this, and who knows it might help you to sleep, although I have not drugged it.’ There was a hint of mockery in the softly-spoken words.

She flushed, wondering if his intent was to get her drunk so that she would put up little resistance to his advances. Well, she would fight him until her last breath. She picked up the horn, tossing off the rest of the ale.

Edmund studied her. When he had first heard of the lady Felicia Meriet she had been but a name behind which stood a shadowy figure, a voluptuous wanton with hard eyes and a cruel mouth, who had planned the death of his wife with the bestial man she had given herself to. She had in no way resembled the girl in front of him. As he stared at her, she blinked drowsily back at him. God’s bones! he thought. She looks so vulnerable: like a kitten rescued after being half drowned.

‘You can sleep on the pallet in the corner,’ he muttered, putting down his horn. There are some blankets in the chest.’

Felicia did not move. Surely she had misunderstood him? She stared at him bemused.

‘Well?’ he rapped in a harsh voice. ‘Go and rest. I shall wake you just before dawn.’

Felicia rose in one swift movement, relief showing in her beautiful eyes. ‘You-you aren’t...’ She halted, unable to go on. The colour rose in her face as their eyes held.

‘Go to bed, Mistress Meriet.’ Edmund rubbed a hand over his weary face. ‘You will be perfectly safe this night.’

Felicia could think of nothing else to say, so she turned and walked slowly towards the chest he had indicated. She lifted the lid, pulled out a blanket and wrapped it carefully about her before going to the pallet to lie down. She watched him replace the cover over the fire and blow out the light. For a moment her heart quickened its beat as she heard his stool creak, but he did not come over to her. Slowly she relaxed, and before she could ponder long over her captor’s change of heart, she was asleep.

Chapter Three

Felicia would have slept on, but whoever was gripping her insisted that she woke, and she sat up. Shivering, she lifted heavy lids and was immediately aware of her surroundings. It was cold in the hut with the chill of early dawn.

‘Come! We must go now. If we wait any longer, we risk being caught by Philip’s men.’ Ruthlessly Edmund pulled the blanket from her and dragged her to her feet. Felicia could barely see his features in the dim light that penetrated the opening in the thatch. She yawned. ‘Here!’ He pulled her over to the doorway and pointed to the pail of water. ‘Rinse your face!’

She hesitated, and then seeing his look of impatience, took a deep breath and splashed her face with the cold water. She gasped, but repeated the action before taking a cloth from him and drying herself.

‘I thought I heard movement outside earlier and it could have been someone spying on us from the village. Not everyone regrets that Sir Gervaise has been replaced by your cousin.’ He swung the saddlebag over his shoulder and, turning the key in the door, pulled it open.

‘You surprise me! You really think one of Sir Gervaise’s peasants would reveal your whereabouts?’ There was a tremor in her voice.

‘It’s possible.’ He went outside, scanning the clearing before beckoning her out. He lifted her on to his horse and she was conscious of the strength in his arms. This time, it seemed, he planned for her to ride pillion, although there was no proper seat, only a small firm cushion. It was not what she was accustomed to, but she was not going to complain. He swung himself up in front of her and urged his mount across the clearing in a different direction from that they had taken the day before.

The forest seemed to have no end, and the sun had risen high before they reached its limits. She wondered why they were going south and where was their destination. Surprisingly, this morning she was no longer so anxious, accepting that she had no choice but to go with him. At the back of her mind was the hope that she might have the chance to gain her own manor.

They travelled on, seeing no one, which was fortunate since they were poorly armed to defend themselves against outlaws, or worse. She gripped more tightly the straps that fastened Edmund’s cloak to the horse as the beast climbed a steep hill that ran alongside a deep narrow valley, picking its way delicately until it reached the crest, where they paused. The lowlands of Shropshire could clearly be seen and, in the distance, water. Annoyingly the sky had clouded over after a brilliant start to the day.

Edmund clicked his tongue and flicked the reins. The horse began to edge its way through scrub and scree down a barely discernible path. Trees grew thickly on either side. Felicia found herself thinking that there was something sinister about this place, or was it only because the sun had disappeared behind thickening cloud? She shivered as a chill wind blew.

‘If you’re cold, unfasten my cloak and put it about you.’

His words surprised her. She had not thought he was aware of her discomfort and hastened to unbuckle the straps that held the cloak. There came an unexpected snarling that seemed to rumble on, and she felt her stomach flip over. She had heard the sound only once before, and it had cost her the life of a favourite hunting dog. As the horse reared, she snatched desperately at a fold of the cloak as she began to slide backwards, even as Edmund fought for control of his frightened steed. The wolf crouched over a dead hare, and its rough grey-black fur stood up about its neck with ears pricked, and its lips pulled back in a grimace that showed yellow fangs.

As Edmund brought the horse down hard and over to the right, Felicia slid forward again, jolting hard against his back. The horse pranced nervously, tossing its head and whinnying. She heard the rasp of metal as Edmund unsheathed his sword. The wolf made a sudden movement towards them, and leapt. Edmund twisted in the saddle to face it. Felicia had no opportunity to see what happened next, for the horse gave vent to its terror and started to race downhill. She was bounced about on its rump, clinging desperately to the straps about the cloak.

Edmund fought for control, and hoped she would not fall. Trees flashed by dizzily as they approached a bend, tearing round a stand of trees at an incredible speed. Felicia felt the straps sliding through her fingers and frantically she searched for a safer hold, but the cloak came away in her hand and she went tumbling from the horse. She landed on her back and lay gasping, staring blankly at the clouded sky. There came the sound of running feet, then the sky was blotted out, and concerned grey eyes gazed into hers. She tried to speak.

‘Save your breath.’ Edmund ran a hand over the back of her head. ‘You are fortunate indeed, Mistress Meriet.’ There was a barely perceptible quiver in his voice. ‘Don’t try to move.’

Felicia let out a reluctant laugh. ‘You jest!’

He began to pull at her veil, tearing it in an attempt to unhook it from numerous thorns. Growling in exasperation, he eased it from her head and left it pinned to the brambles, then he took her arms and ruthlessly dragged her out of the blackberry bush, tearing her linen surcote as he did so. She rested on his braced arms. Then her face drained of colour and she crumpled against him. He swore. His words seemed to come from a long way off as she fought to stay conscious. She was aware of his arms holding her as waves of ice-cold sickness swept over her.

‘Take deep slow breaths,’ he commanded.

She obeyed, and gradually the world began to take on form again. She could hear the wind in the trees and feel its coolness but more than anything she was conscious of his hand caressing the nape of her neck in a gently soothing manner. She found herself relaxing, and had no wish at that moment to move away from the security of his arms. She could hear his heart beating rapidly beneath her ear, and a seam on his surcote dented her cheek. A surge of excitement stretched tingling fingers along her nerves. She brushed her body against his with an uncalculated allurement and moved her head into a more comfortable position and sighed.

Perhaps there was something in the sound that told him that she was recovering from her swoon. His fingers stilled, and there came a tug on one of her dark braids, which compelled her to lift her head. His eyes, the grey of wood-smoke, flicked into a sharp awareness, which seemed to reach out and touch her, causing an answering stir of emotion. His hands moved restlessly the length of her back, coming to rest on her hips.

In that moment Edmund found it difficult to resist the temptation to kiss her. There was an expression in her face that drew him, making him forget his suspicions concerning her morality. She was warm and pliable beneath his hands. He half lowered his head, then suddenly he was aware once more of the cut on her face, the slightly swollen mouth, and of how she had come by them. Had this tug of attraction he felt been the same as that which had caused her cousin to kill his wife? Edmund’s mouth tightened and the smoky eyes became charcoal. The moment passed; then the light died in her eyes and as his arms slackened she withdrew from him.

Felicia made to pick up the fallen cloak, and gave a cry.

‘What is it?’ Edmund whirled round towards her.

‘Nothing!’ she gasped.

‘Nonsense!’ He saw the agony in her eyes, and noted her awkward stance and then glanced at the threatening sky. ‘I’m sorry, but we shall have to ride on.’ He gave a piercing whistle. ‘You will go up before me so I can support you better.’

As he lifted her onto the horse, she gritted her teeth as pain shot up her spine. Her hands clutched the horse’s mane, and she watched Edmund pick up the cloak and swing it about his shoulders. He climbed up behind her, easing himself as close as possible before wrapping the cloak about her and clamping an arm about her waist. The act sent a thrill through her causing her to shiver.

Aware of her reaction, he murmured against her hair, ‘There is no need for you to fear. I cannot ravage you on horseback. Relax! We still have some way to go.’

The first jolt of movement shuddered up her spine. ‘Our destination?’ she gasped.

‘Shrewsbury.’ His breath fluttered a curl on her brow. ‘I would not choose to take you there, but I have friends who will give us shelter and not ask too many questions.’

‘They must be friends indeed, if you can arrive, unannounced, with a strange woman. Won’t they deem it odd?’

‘Whatever they think, they will at least pretend to believe what I tell them.’

Felicia fell silent. His actions confused her. If he wished to make her cousin suffer, surely he should have sent a message to let Philip know that he had her in his power?

It did not take them long to descend to the valley, but then they travelled for painful hour upon hour. It was well into evening when they came to a mere, which swiftly spotted as it began to rain. Edmund pulled up his horse, and they eased aching backs and shoulders, gazing at the stretch of water with its fringe of rustling reeds and water iris.

‘It is said to be bottomless,’ he murmured.

Felicia was suddenly filled with trepidation. ‘You—You are not thinking of throwing me in, are you? For I tell you now that I can swim.’

‘Throw you in? I have no desire to drown you, Mistress Meriet. Although, perhaps it would suit you to join the sirens that are believed to live in this mere?’ he said in a mocking voice.

‘Sirens?’ Felicia gazed at the grey surface curiously.

‘They are said to lure fishermen to their doom with their beauty and song.’

She twisted with difficulty and glared at him. ‘I do not like your talk of sirens in connection with me. I deem they are a kind of wanton and so you insult me!’ she said heatedly. ‘I command you to set me free so that I can go home to Meriet!’

He scowled and his grip on her tightened, so that she could scarcely breathe. ‘We go south in search of that justice you talked about, woman,’ he said brusquely.

‘What kind of justice?’ she cried fearfully, attempting to slacken his hold my digging her fingers into his arm. ‘I am not the woman you believe me to be!’

‘So you say!’ Edmund wanted to believe her but was still wracked with uncertainty. ‘Only time will reveal whether you are telling me the truth or not,’ he said harshly, removing her hand from his arm and urging his mount on.

They travelled on in silence until the clouds in the west tinged with orange and silver. Then Felicia’s curiosity which had been growing got the better of her. ‘Should I not know more about your background and that of your friends if I am to be introduced to them?’ she blurted out.

He hesitated. ‘We are going to the home of Richard Mortimer, wool merchant. His sister Nell Seisdon lives with him. She is recently widowed, and has a young son, Harry. I shall tell them that you are the daughter of an old friend of my mother and that I am escorting you to your home before continuing south.’

‘But how did we meet and why should I be in need of your escort. How will you explain my lack of baggage?’ Felicia asked in honeyed tones.

He gave an exasperated snort. ‘I shall think of something. Now be quiet if I am to come up with answers for my friends.’

‘But you have not told me anything about yourself,’ she protested. ‘You said you were kin to Sir Gervaise. If that was so, should you and your mother not have lived in the castle.’

He hesitated. ‘My mother and my lord’s wife did not always agree, so, my—Sir Gervaise deemed it wiser that they occupied separate dwellings.’ His words were true enough, but they did not begin to explain the relationship between his mother and Sir Gervaise. ‘As for myself, I have come from Chester. Although over the past year or so, I have spent time in Italy and the East hoping to improve my understanding of the ills that plague mankind.’ He paused and added softly, ‘That information will suffice for now.’

His words puzzled her. What was he? Could he possibly be a physician or a philosopher? She wondered but refrained from asking such a question. There were physicians who were mountebanks and he might be insulted.

Soon they were crossing a loop of the Severn, hearing the swift surge of rushing water beneath the bridge. Green lush meadows lay either side of the road and not far ahead lay the walls of Shrewsbury. The turrets of the castle showed grey and misty in the twilight and it was a relief to pass through the gates into the town.

Felicia attempted to straighten her aching back, pushing aside also the wet tendrils of hair that fell into her eyes. They passed along a narrow street with upper storeys close overhead on either side. She jumped as a cat darted from beneath the horse’s hooves and melted into the shadows, its eyes gleaming amber, the only sign of life in the gloom. The scent of wood-smoke, rotting offal and vegetation came to her nostrils. At last they came to the market square and halted outside a large house. The shutters were all fastened, but a sliver of pale yellow light filtered through a crack to the right of the door.

Edmund dismounted and strode up to the entrance and banged on the door. Felicia glanced about her, half-expecting shutters to fly open as the noise vibrated around the square. She had a sense of being watched. He hammered on the door again and, after several moments, it opened and a man stood there. Holding a candle in one hand and a staff clasped tightly in the other, he asked in a deep musical voice, ‘Who is it that comes disturbing the peace at this time of even?’

Edmund threw back his hood. ‘Do you not recognise me, Dickon?’