The Baron's Bride Read online

  Eva dipped into her curtsey and almost ran from the room. The need for action was even more desperate if Sir Piers planned to start for her home on the following morning.

  *

  Gilbert was not on guard duty, and heedless of the impression she was creating she searched the castle until she found a groom who informed her Lord Henry had sent Gilbert out with a message early that morning.

  'Doubt if he'll be back afore dark,' the man said, pushing the short straw he was sucking to one side of his mouth.

  'Where did he go?' Eva demanded.

  'I can't be sure now, didn't hear Lord Henry tellin' of him,' the man replied, scratching his head in puzzlement.

  'But did you see him ride out? Which way did he go?'

  'I wasn't here, can't say. Jonah might know.'

  'Where is he? I can't see him in the stables,' she said crossly, looking about her. Jonah was another of the grooms but Eva eventually elicited the fact from the man that he had taken one of Lord Henry's horses out for exercise and would not be back for a while.

  'Frisky, old Tempest were, needed a good gallop.'

  Eva thanked him briefly and went slowly to the top of the keep. She crouched down in a sheltered corner from where she could see most of the approaches to the castle and desperately tried to make plans.

  It was so difficult to think clearly.

  Apart from the urgent need to leave Holdfast with Gilbert and gain some refuge where Sir Piers could not find them, her thoughts revolved round the surprise that her preconceived ideas about Sir Piers had been so false. In mingled confusion and resentment she recalled that astonishing embrace when he had kissed her so ruthlessly. Her body had wanted to respond, to invite more of the strange sensations he aroused in her, and yet she feared and hated him.

  She shivered. It was impossible to imagine herself compelled to submit again to such embraces and, she realised, to even more intimate caresses. That would be unendurable.

  It was bitterly cold outside, and the parapet gave little shelter. Eva gradually became numb but in her misery ignored the discomfort. The countryside was bare, the trees and fields not yet showing the new green growth. Where there was grass visible against the brown earth it looked dull and lifeless. Low clouds hung overhead and Eva reflected that her surroundings, dank cold stones rising out of a bare and gloomy landscape, reflected her own situation. She would be as unfeeling as the stones. Her life would be as dead as the trees appeared now, but for her there would be no promise of spring or the joyousness of rebirth, only the perpetual dark bleak death of winter.

  The wind grew still keener and Eva huddled into a smaller ball. When the rain began, turning soon to sleet, she wondered for a brief moment whether to remain in the open and freeze to death, and in that final manner escape from an unthinkable future with Sir Piers. Then she suddenly knew she needed to live, if only to defeat him instead of meekly giving up all hope and allowing him to triumph over her in death.

  Stiffly Eva rose to her feet and left the roof of the keep. The stairs inside one of the corner towers were narrow and dark and steep, and in her half frozen state she had to exercise great care to prevent her numbed feet from slipping off the uneven stones. Fortunately Lord Henry had placed a thick rope threaded through loops of iron and she clung to this as she stumbled round the spiral to the lower levels.

  *

  By the time she reached the great hall her limbs were functioning normally and her brain was active again. She knew how she would escape. She went at once to the stables and discovered from Jonah, who had returned a little while back, that Gilbert would be returning soon unless, Jonah said dolefully, the weather delayed him.

  'I never see so much rain, and there be clouds black as the devil coming up,' he muttered with gloomy relish. 'Bad as last year and the one afore that, I reckon, three bad harvests in a row and more poor devils starving.'

  Eva was only too aware of the rain. The wind was lashing the heavy downpour against the walls, even here in the sheltered courtyard. She was shivering from cold and her clothes were soaking wet. She went to the dormitory to change. As she was spreading her gown out to dry one of the maids who attended on Lady Isabella, mending and washing her clothes, appeared in the doorway.

  'Lady Eva, I am sent to help you pack,' she murmured.

  'Thank you, Magda, but I haven't a great deal. I will leave this gown until the morning, it will be dry then.'

  'How did you get it so wet?' Magda asked, feeling the damp wool.

  'I was caught in a sudden downpour,' Eva said briefly. 'I will sort my belongings into two piles and we will make two bundles. They will be easier to carry than chests.'

  'You won't be needing most of your old clothes now will you, my lady?' Magda insinuated as she began to fold Eva's gowns. Eva frowned. Magda might imagine that Sir Piers would give his bride everything she required, but he would not have the opportunity. Gilbert's small patrimony would not provide her with jewels and silks, she would need to make do with what she had now. But part of his manor supported flocks of sheep, Eva recalled, so presumably woollen gowns would be available. Knowing Magda expected a far more munificent parting gift, and feeling mean she could not afford to give it to the girl, nor explain the reason why, Eva picked up the wet gown. It was almost new and in her favourite shade of soft blue. This somewhat eased her conscience as she held it out to the girl.

  'Take this, Magda. The rain will not have spoiled it and it will save me from doing the bundle again in the morning. Sir Piers wishes to set out very early, I understand.'

  For a moment Magda looked as though she would refuse the gown, but it was, although not what she expected, a far better gown than any she possessed. She took it with a small toss of the head and a smile of thanks which was more of a grimace.

  'Have you any more for me to do?' she asked sharply, and Eva controlled her desire to chastise the girl for her impertinent tone. In a way it was deserved.

  'No, and thank you,' she replied quietly. 'I will finish the last few things by myself. Oh, there is one more thing. My cousin, Gilbert Fitzjohn, one of Lord Henry's men, do you know him?'

  Magda looked at her oddly. 'Yes,' she replied curtly.

  'Pray ask one of the pages to give him a message. I must speak with him before supper. He will wish to send greetings to my father,' Eva added, wondering why she should feel compelled to give excuses to a servant about what were surely normal actions.

  'I'll tell him myself, my lady, I have to go to the guard room for another message. Shall I suggest he meets you in the hall?'

  'Ask him to be so kind,' Eva replied, pretending to be busy with tying her bundle, and with her back turned she did not see the knowing smile Magda bestowed upon her as the girl left the room.

  *

  At last it was possible for Eva to speak with Gilbert. She had made no attempt to hide her assignation from Lady Isabella, explaining her father would wish to know how his late wife's nephew was. Lady Isabella smilingly dismissed her from the solar, where she had been enduring with gradually declining fortitude the comments and exclamations of the other girls about her forthcoming marriage, and Eva hurried down to the hall.

  It was clear Gilbert had heard. His normally cheerful expression had been replaced by a scowl, and he scarcely raised his head when Eva sat beside him on the bench, well away from the other people who were crowding about the fire.

  'You agreed!' he accused her in a low angry voice.

  'No, I did not, Gilbert. I had no choice, I told him I didn't wish to marry him, but he insisted on treating me as though I had not spoken. I have a plan.'

  'What can we do?'

  'It's too late to leave tonight, the gates will be closed. Why did Lord Henry have to send you out today of all days!'

  'I could not help that,' Gilbert said quickly. 'Even had I known I could hardly have refused to go. It had something to do with de Montfort.'

  'Of course not, but if only we had known earlier I could have made some excuse and ridden out to
o. But it's no use repining. We must leave at dawn. I will go first on Fleet, with the few things I must take in a small bundle. I can hide it under my cloak. I imagine Lady Isabella will send me the rest of my clothes when we are married and she can do nothing to prevent it. I will tell the guard I wish to say farewell to old Freida. They'll not be suspicious, I often visit her. I'll ride in the direction of her hut, and once I'm in the shelter of the trees turn back. You must leave earlier and ride the other way. We can meet by the charcoal burner's hut, then head northwards and circle round towards your home. They will expect me to have gone to the west and lose time searching that way.'

  'It won't work. They'll know it's a plot and they'll catch us before we've gone half a day's journey.'

  Eva shook her head vehemently.

  'Then are we to do nothing? To submit?'

  'Eva, darling, I want more than anything else to marry you but what can we do? They are powerful, they can force your compliance and the only thing we will accomplish is my ruin.'

  'You don't love me. Why did you pretend?' she asked bleakly.

  He groaned and suddenly buried his face in his hands.

  'Eva, I adore you, you know that, and would risk anything to win you, but it is pointless to try when there is no hope of success. I can see no other way, and will have to renounce you.'

  'It is easy to renounce what you have never had,' she said bitterly. 'Have you considered me? I shall lose you too, but I shall be forced to endure marriage to that hateful man instead. There must be a way, Gilbert!'

  'We must be sensible. Few people are permitted to marry where they love. And he is not what you feared, he is at least not so old.'

  'That makes it worse,' Eva muttered. 'I could look forward to an early widowhood if he were old!'

  Gilbert hastily crossed himself. 'It's wicked, Eva, to wish another's death.'

  'I don't wish it, I merely remarked that an old man would be likely to die sooner. But what of it, he's not old. I will not be beaten, Gilbert. We must try. We'll change our plan and you must still leave early tomorrow as we agreed and ride for Rudge Manor. I will contrive to delay our journey as much as possible so you have time to explain the situation to Father and plead with him. Tell him how much I detest Sir Piers and how unbearably arrogant he is. There is a chance he might listen.'

  'And what excuse will I give to Lord Henry?'

  Eva gritted her teeth with impatience.

  'Do I have to think of everything? Surely you can find a reason for being away for a couple of days? Or just an hour. Since we'll never return what does it matter?'

  'I shall be returning if your father doesn't listen,' Gilbert pointed out reasonably. 'If we fail, which is highly probable, my prospects will be ruined. I might as well join the rebels!'

  'What of my prospects? They'll be worse, life will not be worth living unless I can live it with you,' Eva said slowly. 'Won't you make just one effort? Do you not want me after all?' she added wonderingly. 'It does not sound as though you do.'

  Gilbert took her hand in his and held it firmly.

  'Of course I do, but – take care, here is Lord Henry, there's no time to talk more. I will find a moment after supper to speak again with you, I may have thought of some other way,' Gilbert said hurriedly as he rose and moved away. She was looking after him when Sir Piers spoke behind her.

  'A touching farewell,' he murmured mockingly. 'Come, Lady Isabella sent me to fetch you, you are to sit with Lord Henry this evening at the high table.'

  With a fixed smile on her face, and responding as briefly as she could to the remarks Sir Piers addressed to her, Eva endured a most uncomfortable meal. Obscurely afraid of insulting him before the household, for she had the liveliest suspicion he would take some drastic revenge if she did so, Eva was forced to accept the delicacies he offered her from his own platter, and listen to the discourse on the activities of the discontented barons.

  At last the tables were cleared away and she was able to approach Gilbert where he stood in a dark corner of the hall.

  'I'll go,' he muttered, and she smiled radiantly at him, all there was time for before Joan came up to speak to them. She was anxious to give Eva a last message to take to her own family, whose manor house they would pass on the second day of the journey.

  *

  A prey to mingled hope and apprehension Eva slept badly, falling into a heavy doze just before dawn. Awakened by the other girls she dressed in a warm gown in russet wool and added her last few possessions to the small bundle beside her bed. Then she carried it down to the hall and forced herself to eat bread and cheese. Sir Piers was already there and Marguerite gave an envious sigh as she caught sight of his tall elegant figure.

  'We might meet at Court after all, if you please him enough to make him wish not to be parted from you, Eva,' she whispered.

  Eva did not reply. She had caught sight of Gilbert walking through the main doorway from the courtyard with another man.

  'I must say farewell to my cousin,' she heard herself say in what she hoped was a normal voice and crossed the hall towards Gilbert. He saw her coming, left his companion and came to meet her.

  'You were leaving early,' she accused in a low furious voice.

  'Eva, there is no time to explain. Lord Henry is taking me with him to Windsor tomorrow. It is a great opportunity. I might come to the King's notice. I have sent a man I can trust to your father with a message, saying my hopes of advancement are now much greater. I explained we loved one another and begged him to postpone the marriage until I could talk with him. You can persuade him to agree, give me a week only.'

  That was all. He moved away and Eva stood motionless. Her father would never agree, of that she was certain. If she were to avoid this detested marriage she would have no alternative but to seek sanctuary in the nunnery where her aunt was Abbess.

  It was a preoccupied Eva who bade everyone farewell and mounted Fleet a short while later. She was busy planning how to escape from her escort. As well as Sir Piers two men would be accompanying them to give protection and lead the baggage horses.

  Meadside Nunnery was situated a few miles upstream, on this side of the river. There was a good track leading to it direct from Holdfast, keeping to the higher ground, it was open and she could not hope to outdistance her companions. Down in the valley there were other tracks, near the river and hidden amongst the trees, often hard to find. If only she could shake off the men she would be able to make her way unseen through the woods where the undergrowth was thick even in February.

  Gradually a plan evolved in her mind. Surreptitiously she loosened the clasp of the brooch which fastened her cloak. As they approached the river the noise of the water breaking over the rocks just below the ford could be distinguished above the rustling of the trees and the gusty wind. Eva urged Fleet into a trot and drew level with Sir Piers just as they came to the junction of several tracks.

  He turned to look at her, a quizzical eyebrow raised, for she had spoken only briefly and when it was unavoidable that morning.

  She smiled bleakly at him, then exclaimed in annoyance and leant forward suddenly as her small bundle slipped to the ground.

  'Oh please, I must not damage it, I have a present in it for my father,' she explained and then gave a cry of exasperation as her cloak slipped off her shoulders and fell between her own mount and that of Sir Piers.

  She had time to see only that one of the servants had dismounted to retrieve her bundle, and the other was hampered by having all the horses to hold before she had kicked Fleet into a gallop and headed down one of the side tracks. She rounded a sharp bend and guided the mare unerringly away from the track to send her plunging through the undergrowth. Very quickly they emerged onto a small, almost indistinguishable track which followed the bank of the river. Eva spared a grateful thought for the many summer afternoons last year when she and the others, wandering in the woods seeking for the wild plants and herbs Lady Isabella needed for her medicines, had become familiar with the maze of
narrow paths.

  Behind her she could hear the sounds of pursuit, but she thought it unlikely Sir Piers, a stranger to the district, would be able to see where she had come. She pushed Fleet into a gallop again nonetheless, for she was terrified of what he would do should she fail to reach the sanctuary of the nunnery in time.

  Too late she saw that the path in front, bordering the river, had been washed away at the edges by the rain of the previous day. Fleet swerved and stumbled, sliding onto her knees, Eva lost her grip on the reins, and felt the shock of icy water taking away her breath as she hit the water and it closed over her head.

  *

  Chapter 4

  With her arms flailing wildly Eva came to the surface of the turbulent river and opened her mouth to gasp for breath. The weight of her sodden gown dragged her under again and she fought in terror to free herself, choking as she tried to cough water from her mouth. The river was flowing strongly and she felt her foot catch on some sunken weeds as she was carried past. She kicked out, frantic not to be trapped by them, and once more felt the cold winter air on her face. Before she could open her eyes, instinctively closed tight when she had been under the water, she found herself lifted as strong arms enfolded her. Choking and gasping she clung desperately to her rescuer as he pulled her to the bank, aware only of thankfulness he held her so tightly pressed against his hard strong body. She lost consciousness momentarily, coming to her senses to find herself propped against a fallen tree trunk. Her eyes flickered open and she saw a man walking away from her, his wet hair plastered close to his head and his tunic clinging to his tall lean body.

  'Please,' Eva gasped in terror, 'don't leave me alone!'

  The man turned and Eva realised it was Sir Piers. He eyed her sardonically.

  'You will suffer only the cold, my fickle lady,' he said scornfully. 'Have you no thought for the poor horse you have injured by your folly?'

  With that he went on and Eva struggled to her feet. What had happened to Fleet? Was the mare also in the river, or could she have broken a leg? Remorsefully Eva tried to walk after Sir Piers, but her legs collapsed under her and she sank again to the ground, feeling sick and dizzy. After a moment, when the world steadied again, she once more stood up, this time succeeding in remaining upright.