Rosehaven (23 page)

“I wish you had not done that,” he said, and sank to his knees, holding himself. He was gasping with pain now, rolling onto his side.

She jumped to her feet and ran back to the path.

Gwent was waiting at the top, his hands on his hips. “You should not have done that, Hastings. Now he will have to
retaliate. Are you mad? How will he sire a child if you unman him?”

“He has already sired a child only he is too stupid to believe it.”

“By Saint Sebert’s nose, why did you have to strike him there? I will try to explain to him that your mind is disordered, that you need some of his mother’s potion. Are you certain you are with child?”

She nodded. She felt very tired.

Gwent cursed. “Get you back to Oxborough. I will help Severin.”

“I will give you a rock.”

“You look dreadful, Hastings.”

“Thank you, Marjorie. You look like a goddess.”

“You are all wet and there is sand on your gown. Your sleeve is torn from your shoulder. Your feet and gown are wet. Did Severin beat you? He did not hit your face. That is wise. It could anger some of the Oxborough people who still feel some loyalty to you.”

Hastings smiled. “I doubt he will be of much use to you tonight, Marjorie.”

“Severin is the lord of Oxborough. He is of use to me only because he protects Eloise.”

“Was he so very clumsy then when he took you as a boy, Marjorie?”

“He should not have told you that. We were very young, both of us. I did not wish to be wedded to that old man, to have him take my virginity, thus I gave it to Severin. That was many years ago.”

Hastings didn’t say anything more, just pushed past Marjorie and ran up the solar stairs. She needed clothes—not gowns, but a boy’s garb. She didn’t care about the bandits on the roads. Nothing could be as bad as remaining here, for she knew when Severin recovered sufficiently, he would return and beat her.

She could lose her babe.

She walked head high to the stable, ordered Marella to
be saddled, then, while Tuggle was seeing to her palfrey, she eased into the small area where all the boys slept. All the clothes she picked up were too small and filthy beyond anything she could imagine.

She just smiled at Alart, the porter, telling him she was riding into the village. He waved her off, though he was frowning.

She rode directly to the leatherer’s shop and asked Master Robert once again to see the chamber from which the saddle had been hurled down upon her. Ah, she thought, as she rifled through his apprentices’ trunks that were stacked in the corner of the room. She took what she wanted, stuffed them beneath her gown, and took her leave of Master Robert, who was in the midst of praising the gloriousness of the damned day.

She rode into Beethorpe Forest and changed into the boys’ clothes. She hadn’t estimated properly. The trousers were very tight. As for the tunic, it at least bagged enough to cover most of her to her thighs. She fastened cross garters, pulled on the supple leather boots.

She remounted Marella.

She had no money, no food, no weapon.

Where was she to go?

She just sat there on Marella’s back. She deserved to be beaten, but not because she had angered Severin. No, she deserved it because she was so stupid.

She rode back to the village and managed to find Ellen alone, weeding her mother’s small garden at the back of the baker’s shop.

When she rode out of the village a few minutes later, she had a bow and six arrows, a knife, three loaves of bread wrapped in a big cloth, and a blanket.

“You what?”

“She is the mistress of Oxborough. She rides frequently to the village. I had to allow her to leave, my lord.”

Severin cracked his palm over his own forehead. He’d come back to strangle her. At the very least he would have
yelled at her until he was cleansed of his rage. That was what he had planned to do with her on the beach, just the two of them alone, but he hadn’t had the chance. Damn her, she’d planned to swim to the next beach. Then she had unmanned him. Only now could he stand up straight. He drank down the ale Alice handed to him.

He gave Alice a sour look. “I don’t suppose you know anything about this?”

She poured him more ale as she said, “If I did, I would tell you nothing, my lord. I do not want her or the babe harmed.”

Severin smashed his fist on the trestle table. “She is not with child!”

“If she said she was, then she is.”

“Did she tell you that she was?”

“No, but Dame Agnes wonders. She said she knew Hastings was queasy in her belly and that her appetite wasn’t right. Hastings is very private. She waits before she speaks.”

“She didn’t wait before she kicked my manhood into oblivion.”

Alice opened her mouth, caught the warning head shake from Gwent, and closed it again.

Severin said more to himself than to Gwent or Alice or the other dozen servants milling about, hoping to overhear something, “I wanted only to talk to her privately. You know there is no privacy here. She even picked up a stone again once she escaped me on the beach.”

Gwent cleared his throat. He saw Lady Marjorie from the corner of his eye. He knew at any moment that Severin would leap from his chair and want to leave Oxborough on the instant. That was the way he was. He was brooding now, and that boded well for Hastings. It gave her time so that before Severin caught her, he would be relieved of most of his bile.

Time. By Saint Ethelbert’s nose, they had best be after her. But where had she gone?

Gwent cleared his throat again. Lady Marjorie was nearly upon them.

“My lord.”

Severin continued to frown down at the trestle table. He drank the rest of the ale and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. “Damn her, now I must take time and men to find her. I wanted to finish the work on the eastern wall today. If she picks up another rock to hurl at me, Gwent, I will surely . . . We leave at once.”

“Aye, my lord.”

“My lord, what has happened?”

“Eh? Oh, it’s you, Marjorie. Where is the child?”

“Eloise is with Dame Agnes.”

“I am away to find my wife and bring her home.”

“She attacked you, Severin. All saw it. Will you kill her?”

“Now, that is a thought,” he said, nodded to Alice, who looked ready to leap for his throat, and strode up the solar stairs.

He met his mother near the jakes.

“You had best hurry, Severin. Hastings has been gone close to an hour.”

“I will find her, Mother.”

“She isn’t happy, Severin.”

“Neither am I. I am now one of the richest men in England and I vow a toad is happier than I am. That’s what she believes me to be—a toad.”

“Surely she would not liken you to a toad.”

“She said I had the feelings of a toad. Ah, Trist, you wish to come with me? You must swear you won’t try to protect her.”

Trist had stuck his head out of Severin’s tunic. He mewled and hung on.

Lady Moraine watched her son stride into his bedchamber and fling the heavy wooden door shut. She hurried down the stairs to find Gwent, the small vial held tightly in her hand.

Marjorie met her at the bottom of the solar stairs, a cool smile on her beautiful face.

23

“Y
OU LOOK FATIGUED, LADY MORAINE,
”
MARJORIE SAID
, so beautiful surely God had fashioned her after his angels. “Would you care to have a cup of milk with me?”

Lady Moraine shook her head, looking frantically about for Gwent.

“I believe perhaps your eyes look a bit wild. Perhaps you are not thinking clearly? Perhaps you need to rest? Let me help you, Lady Moraine. Let me take you to your chamber. Some time alone would refresh you.”

“Alice!”

Marjorie lowered her eyes to her white hands. She stepped back when Alice nearly ran her down getting to Lord Severin’s mother.

“I need to find Gwent,” Lady Moraine whispered, but Marjorie heard her. She also saw that vial in the woman’s hand. She knew what was in that vial. Eloise had overheard the women talking of it and had told her.

All three women whipped about when Severin pounded down the solar stairs. He carried a fat blanket that was tightly knotted.

“Mother,” he said, leaned down, and kissed her. “I will return as quickly as possible. Ah, Beamis, you and Lady
Marjorie will be in charge of Oxborough whilst I am away. Mother, take care.”

He was gone.

It was too late. Lady Moraine slipped the vial into the pocket of her gown. When he brought his wife back, then she would pour the potion into his wine. He was very angry. What had she done to him? And he had left Marjorie to be mistress of Oxborough in his absence. She sighed. She supposed she couldn’t blame him for not trusting that her wits would not wander. At least not yet.

Lady Marjorie turned to Alice, smiled brightly, and said, “What has MacDear planned for our midday dinner?”

A sharp evening wind came up just when the sun was beginning to set. Hastings had ridden Marella hard for the past three hours. She’d seen two farmers, one of them sitting in an old cart pulled by a swaybacked mare who snorted with every step she took, the other walking bent over, a thicket of cut hay strapped to his back.

Neither of them paid her any attention. The one farmer did look at Marella, a combination of wistfulness and greed in his eyes. She didn’t blame him.

Her bow and six arrows were snug against her side. She had practiced a good dozen times to get her bow notched quickly were outlaws to attack her. She was fast now.

She slowed Marella. She had come to the top of a small rise. Nestled in the valley below was a village filled with small thatch-roofed cottages. She would simply have to go around it.

Marella, sensing that a warm stable was near, was none too happy to be steered away from the village. She reared on her hind feet, but Hastings, well used to her palfrey’s ways, wasn’t moved. “All right, we’ll stop soon. It grows late. We’re both hungry. Aye, I’ll find you a nice stream and thick grass. Trust me, Marella, you do not wish Lord Severin to catch up with us.”

The cold wind eased off a bit. Then it just became a mild breeze. This was not the England she knew. Perhaps this
was a sign that good luck would follow her. Perhaps she would find this Rosehaven before any outlaws found her.

But what about Severin?

She shuddered, remembering clearly what it felt like to shove her feet into his groin. She’d felt his shock in that instant, his disbelief, the quivering of coming pain.

He had deserved it. He would have hurt her and probably her babe as well.

She found a perfect place to tether Marella some thirty minutes later. After seeing to her horse, she spread the blanket on the grassy slope that rolled gently to the stream and went through her belongings. Not much.

Three loaves of bread.

The bread was delicious. She forced herself to eat only one loaf, then slid down the slope to drink the cold water.

Night was falling fast.

She left Marella saddled, just in case, apologizing to her all the while. She gathered her bow and arrows close, closed her hand over the knife handle, and pulled the blanket around her.

“Wot’s a mere lad doing with a mare like that? Think ye the little blighter thieved her?”

Hastings was awake in an instant, frozen still at the sound of the man’s voice. He was whispering, but the night was very still. She heard every word. She could practically see another man shrugging. How many were there?

“Ease yer knife in his ribs and let’s take the mare.”

“Ye saw, he’s a pretty boy. We can sell him.”

“Lookee, we watched him, believing his kin were close, but there’s no one here but the boy. Let him be. He’d be too much trouble. I jest want the mare.”

There were just two of them.

Not that it would matter. Her luck had run out.

They were too close for her to use her bow and arrows.

Slowly, holding her breath, Hastings closed her hand around the knife handle. It wasn’t well balanced, a perfect weapon for killing, like Severin’s was. No, it belonged to
Master Thomas the baker. She just prayed it would slice a man as well as it did bread.

She felt the ground moving as one of the men walked to her. Just one, thank God. She waited, ready.

She opened her eyes, saw him over her, staring down at her, the knife raised.

“So ye’re awake, are ye?”

“Aye, you filth.” She brought the knife up, felt it slide so easily into his belly, felt the vomit rise in her throat, and quickly jerked the knife out of him. He was still over her, staring down at her, so surprised that he opened his mouth but only blood came out, not words.

“Ye done with the boy?”

She had no choice. She plunged the knife in again, this time higher, into his chest. The knife point hit a rib and wouldn’t go any farther. The man howled, twisted over, and fell to his side.

“Wot’s the matter?” The other man was at his side. As for Hastings, she was on her feet, running to Marella.

The man wheezed out, “The little whoreson struck me down and kilt me.”

Hastings was on Marella’s back in an instant. The other man was running toward her, yelling curses. Marella reared on her hind legs and struck the man hard in the chest.

He went over backward with a grunt.

It was at that moment that she heard more curses. Hideous curses curdled with the names of body parts and animals. This man wasn’t whispering. He was roaring.

She recognized that voice.

She kicked Marella’s fat sides. Her palfrey couldn’t move. There were three men on horseback blocking her. Hastings whipped her about to see Severin sitting on his horse behind her, three more men at his back. How had he positioned his men so quickly? Curse him.

She slid off Marella’s back, ducked around a stallion, and ran into the forest, Severin’s curses following her.

The curses stopped. The feet pounding the ground behind her didn’t.

Something huge and hard hit her square in the back,
flinging her forward. She fell flat on her face, the boulder flattening her down.

“I should let you play the fool in my castle,” he said close to her ear. “My men would never stop their laughter. All you would have to do is recount what you have done this day, Hastings, nothing more.”

He was breaking her back, but she didn’t say a word. It would have been difficult because her mouth was pressed into the earth.

Severin rolled off her and came up to sit beside her. At least there was a half-moon. She didn’t move for the longest time, just lay there. He knew he hadn’t killed her with his lunge because her ribs were going in and out. Her face was flat down. Good, he hoped she had a mouth of earth. Mayhap a worm or two.

Then, finally, she pulled herself back onto her knees. Her head was down and she was breathing slowly, with difficulty. He merely watched her, saying nothing.

She sat back on her heels. She said at last, “No matter what you had done, I doubt I would have stuck Master Thomas’s knife in your belly. You’re my husband, after all.”

“Where would you have stuck Master Thomas’s knife?”

She just shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“I didn’t have time to save you.” He sounded incredibly angry.

“I didn’t need your help.”

“No, you didn’t, did you?” He sounded even angrier. Why? “What if there had been a third man?”

She would be dead, she thought, but didn’t say it aloud. “I would have dealt with him as well.”

Severin got to his feet, brushed himself down, then just stood there, staring down at her.

She felt suddenly very weak. Why was that? She started to rise but discovered she couldn’t. She felt a wave of dizziness. She looked down to see the knife on the ground where Severin had thrown her down. She had been carrying the knife.

She’d fallen on it.

She touched her fingertips to her side. They were wet and sticky. She looked up at him.

“You expect me to help you rise? See to yourself, madam.”

He turned to walk away from her, then said over his shoulder, “If you run again, I will surely make you regret it more than you can imagine.”

“I won’t run again.”

“Come then. I am tired and hungry. Then I will deal with you.”

She tried again to rise. Slowly, slowly, she got to her feet. Even more slowly, she turned to face him. “I can’t come, Severin. You can just leave me here. It doesn’t matter. You have Oxborough, you have Marjorie. Aye, just leave me here.”

He took a step toward her, his feet planted right in front of her. His hands were on his hips. He sounded like he was ready to do murder. “Do you wish me to strangle you right here, Hastings?”

Such anger in his voice, she thought, but it didn’t really touch her. All that touched her now were sharp jabs of pain that went deeper with each moment that passed. She felt light-headed. She felt dizzier. The pain was bowing her forward, folding her in on herself.

“Aye, mayhap it would be better than this,” she said, and with a sigh, she fell to the ground at his feet.

She heard him cursing again, the ripest words woven with animal parts. Then she felt his warm breath on her face, felt his hand on her side. She made a small sound deep in her throat and was gone from him.

“Drink this. Don’t turn your head away, Hastings. Drink, you need this.”

Need what? she wondered, and opened her mouth. It was warm ale with something in it, what, she didn’t know. It tasted wonderful. Until the pain came and she choked, the ale running down her chin onto her chest. She heaved with the pain, jerking upward, then twisting onto her side,
anything to avoid it. But she couldn’t. It held her close.

“Did you poison me?” she whispered. “Is that what I tasted in the wine? Poison?”

“Shut your mouth. Gwent, help me hold her down. She’ll make the bleeding start again.”

“Carlic swears the chives he found near the stream will staunch the bleeding. He said he would have bled to death once if his grandmother hadn’t ground it up and fed it to him. We’ll see. No, Hastings, try not to jerk away from me.”

His face was close to hers now. “Listen to me. Don’t drag air into your throat, it will just make the pain worse. Breathe lightly. That’s right. Focus on my face. No, don’t look away from me, Hastings.”

“The babe?”

It was at that moment that he knew he’d been a fool, knew he could have harmed her and his babe when he threw her over his saddle, when he had shoved her down the path to the beach, but he hadn’t believed her.

But he did now.

He had gotten her with child. He felt a burst of satisfaction deep within him, a feeling he had never before experienced. It was satisfaction and something else, something else that was deep and now a part of him. He shook his head, leaned close to her, and said, “The babe is fine. The knife went through the fleshy part of your side. There was a lot of bleeding but the wound didn’t go deep. I cleaned it through with hot water. Besides the chives for the bleeding, Carlic found some delphiniums. He said his grandmother gave it to him for toothache, but pain was pain.”

“Not poison.”

“No, not poison.”

She tried to nod, but the pain ground her down. “ Severin.” His name was a whisper of sound.