Forbidden Love (14 page)

Behind her, Alaric and the men laughed, very pleased with the way their high-spirited mistress had handled the situation.

Ignoring both their amusement and the merchant's dismay, Roanna calmly completed her order. Since she had no idea how long they would be in the capital, she arranged to receive large quantities of flour and grain. In such tumultuous times, there were likely to be sudden shortages of staples.

The cost was outrageous, but Colin had fortunately anticipated the effects of war on the economy and had brought along a more than ample supply of gold. Any lingering hesitation the merchant might have felt evaporated when he saw the glint of her coin.

Saying a silent prayer of thanks that she had sensibly packed her own salt, spices, and herbs, Roanna was eager to complete the rest of her business. There were similar orders to be placed with the vendors of poultry, beef, and cheese.

Leaving the last shop, she was just beginning to relax when a sodden group of Norman knights stumbled from a nearby tavern. Her guard was instantly alert Surrounded by the thegns, Roanna was in no danger of being harmed. But she was nonetheless subjected to the lewd comments of the knights who despite their state quickly noticed her extraordinary beauty.

"You there, wench! Wha'd' you want with those piss-ass Anglos? Come ov'r here an' we'll show wha' a real man's got!"

Roanna turned away, intending to ignore them. But her guard was not willing to overlook their explicit gestures and catcalls. Before she could make a move to prevent it, the fierce thegns drew their blades.

"Show us what you've got, Norman," one growled menacingly. "We'll be glad to hack it off for you!"

"Alaric, stop them! We don't want trouble."

Roanna's plea fell on deaf ears. The housecarl had no intention of letting such insults go unpunished. His own weapon was in his hand as he gently but firmly motioned her aside.

"This won't take long, my lady. We know you're anxious to get home."

"Alaric! I meant it! I want you to stop them!"

"I will, my lady, I will. But just not quite yet. . .." Stepping forward with agility that belied his years, he joined the thegns.

Inebriated though they were, the Normans quickly realized their danger. Hastily drawing their own weapons, they spread out in a shaky line to meet their attackers. The crowd swiftly drew back until a large, open space was cleared before a row of stalls. Merchants rushed to remove the more breakable of their goods, but the rest of the men and women kept their attention focused firmly on the confrontation.

It turned out to not be much of a contest. When sober, the Normans were undoubtedly quite able fighters. But with their reflexes so dulled, they could do little to block the Anglo-Saxons, who struck remorselessly. Alaric drew the line at killing, but he permitted his men to wreak full vengeance up to that point None of the knights escaped without severe wounds. Battered and bloodied, they fled ignominiously to the delighted shouts of the crowd, which left no doubt of its loyalties.

"There now, my lady," Alaric soothed as he sheathed his sword, "that didn't take long at all."

Roanna could not deny her satisfaction at the way the situation was handled. She was about to admit that it had been worth the wait when a sudden exclamation from the sidelines forestalled her.

"That was absolutely marvelous," declared a low, feminine voice. "If only there were more such men left in England!"

Turning, Roanna came face to face with a middle-aged but still quite comely woman of noble bearing. Apparently overcome by her own daring, the lady blushed becomingly.

"I beg your pardon, I should not have interfered. But after all that has happened ... it was just so good to see an Englishwoman protected by such strong, able men."

Roanna was about to assure the lady that her approval was appreciated when she was suddenly brought up short by Alaric. In the space of moments, the grizzled housecarl had somehow acquired the look of a callow, bashful youth. He flushed painfully, his black eyes wide with dawning wonderment as he stared at the lady.

"Uh ... it was nothing. . . really. Anyone would have done the same."

Turning the full force of her admiration on the hapless man, the lady said, "I beg to disagree, sir. You must not underrate yourself. Rarely have I seen such bravery or skill."

Roanna watched the exchange with fascination. The lady's veil covered a thick braid of chestnut hair lightly streaked with silver. Her large blue eyes were surrounded by tiny wrinkles, the legacy of a lifetime of frequent smiles. Her complexion was smooth, and her generous mouth framed perfect white teem. The figure hidden by her tunic and surcoat veered toward matronly, but there was nothing displeasing in the ample curve of her breasts and hips. Alaric evidently did not think so, for he was hard pressed to tear his gaze from her.

Nor did the lady seem any less fascinated by him. Long moments passed as they stared at each other. Only a slight movement by Roanna broke their preoccupation.

"Forgive me," the lady murmured at bit breathlessly. "You must think me very rude not to have introduced myself. I am Lady Margaret Yateson, from Norfolk."

"I am pleased to meet you," Roanna said kindly, identifying herself. "Thank you for your praise of my guards. I agree that it is well deserved."

She hesitated for a moment, unwilling to intrude on the privacy of one who was still a stranger. But the unusual circumstances of their meeting forced her to speak.

"I can't help noticing that you seem to be alone here. After what has just happened, I appreciate more than ever the value of an escort. Perhaps we could conduct you somewhere?"

"Oh, no," Lady Margaret broke in, clearly embarrassed by the offer. "I really did not mean to intrude." "But you have not," Roanna assured her hastily. Something in the woman's manner suggested she was suddenly uncomfortable with the situation and would try to take her leave. Alaric's interest alone was enough to make Roanna want to prevent that, but she was also curious herself about why a lady of quality should be wandering about the market unguarded.

Swiftly, she went on, "I have only just arrived in London and being without the company of women, I am anxious to make new friends. You would be welcome to sup with us."

"That is very kind, but..."

"The kindness would be yours." A bit shyly, Roanna added, "You see, I am but newly married. This is the first time I have set up a household I have so many questions, but there is no one to answer them."

"Oh! Well, in that case ..."

Assured that her presence would not be a burden, Lady Margaret was more inclined to accept. There was only one more problem to overcome. "I will need to send a message to my friends so they do not become concerned about me."

"Certainly. One of my men will take it"

"Uh . . . no . . . that is very kind, but there are always children around the market eager to run errands." As though to prove her point, Lady Margaret swiftly summoned an urchin. She spoke to him very softly, but Roanna could not help but overhear the directions. He would find her friends, Lady Margaret said, "by the river, under the bridge."

Well aware of the acute housing shortage in the city and its impact on anyone who did not have ample coin to buy shelter, Roanna immediately understood why her new acquaintance had not wanted her to send one of her own men. The thought that any lady should be ashamed of circumstances foisted on her by a cruel twist of fate dissolved the reticence that would normally have kept her silent

"Lady Margaret, I do not mean to intrude upon your privacy. But I am not ignorant of the problems confronting many in this time of turmoil The residence my husband has secured for us is not luxurious, but it is large. You and your friends would be welcome as our guests."

All the color fled from their new acquaintance's face as she protested. "Oh, no! That is very kind, but we couldn't."

"Of course, you could," Alaric insisted. He, too, had grasped the meaning of Lady Margaret's unease and was horrified that a gentlewoman should be so impoverished. "As her ladyship has explained, she is but one lone woman struggling to set up a household without any prior experience. Surely any help you and your friends could give would be a godsend."

Roanna raised her eyebrows slightly at what she regarded as a rather exaggerated view of her ineptitude. But she was willing to overlook his presumptuousness if it convinced Lady Margaret to give in. For good measure, she added her own plea.

"I would be most grateful. Truthfully, I have nowhere else to turn."

The older woman hesitated a moment longer before at last accepting the sudden upturn in her fortunes. "I would be delighted to assist you," she said softly, "and I am sure my friends will be as well."

A glimpse of what must have once been a vibrant nature showed as she added, "Why between us your house may quite well become the best organized, most precisely run, and relentlessly immaculate residence in all of London. And then your poor husband will undoubtedly rue the day you came to market!"

Roanna joined her laughter. She did not as a rule make friends easily, but she already guessed that Lady Margaret would prove the exception. Arm in arm, the women left the market with a bemused Alaric and the highly diverted thegns trailing after them.

"
W
ho are all those women?" Colin asked as he entered the bed chamber. Returning late from the court, he had wearily climbed the stairs to the family quarters expecting to find only Roanna and a few servants. Instead he encountered half a dozen ladies, who greeted him politely before hurrying about their business.

Putting down the linen she had just folded, Roanna motioned to the two girls who were helping her. Bobbing swift curtsies, they slipped from the room. Not until they were safely in the passageway did they giggle to each other about why their recently wed lady was so anxious to be alone with her lord.

Standing on tiptoe to brush a kiss against his lean cheek roughened by a day's growth of beard, she explained, "I met them today in the market. They are all from Norfolk, women of good birth and rank. Their husbands were either killed at Hastings or died later trying to resist the Normans. Their lands have been seized by marauders who did not even wait for the King's approval before taking what they wanted. They have come here in the hope of finding someone to present their case to William and obtain redress."

Colin grimaced. The women's painful story was only one of many he had heard that day. They had left him not only saddened but frustrated by the unfamiliar sense of acute powerlessness.

"Do you have any idea how many such women mere are in England?" he demanded sharply. "Hundreds at least, if not thousands. The chances that they will ever regain even a fraction of their property are almost nonexistent"

"Surely that is no reason to ignore their plight?" Roanna objected, her eyes widening at his acerbic tone. She had expected him to unhesitatingly approve her actions. "They have almost no money and have been without proper food and shelter for weeks now. Was I supposed to turn away from them?"

Sighing, Colin lowered himself into a chair. He stretched his long legs out before glancing round the room. Dimly he noticed that it was swept clean and well appointed with their own furnishings brought from the Algerson stronghold. The large bed was already set up and covered with fresh linens. Vivid wall hangings softened the harsh plaster walk. Copper braziers filled with charcoal stood ready in case the night turned cool. A pitcher of steaming water sat on a small table. Next to it lay a basin, towels, and a small bar of soap.

Ignoring her question, he posed one of his own. "You didn't follow my instructions, did you? About not working too hard."

Pouring him a mug of ale, Roanna neatly turned the subject back to her new friends. "I had a great deal of help. All the women have ample experience in running households. In just the few hours they have been here, they've accomplished miracles."

Colin smiled wryly. He would get no rest until the matter was settled. "All right, if you insist on talking about our guests right now, we will. I counted six. Are there any more?"

"No . .. but some do have children with them."

"Where do you expect to put them all? Surely not downstairs in the men's quarters?"

"Of course not! I know you haven't had a chance to really look over the house, but it happens to be very large. There is plenty of room for them on this floor." Handing him the ale, Roanna added, "Besides, any place is better than where they were."

Hastily she sought to defuse any further objection he might have. "These women know a great deal more than I do about how to make the most of our supplies. They've already mentioned several ways to stretch the foodstuffs and organize the house so that it is less costly to run."

As she spoke, she stared at him closely. Granted, she could not claim to have known her husband long, but their acquaintance had been, to put it mildly, rather intense. She felt she knew him well and was certain his seeming reluctance to welcome the women was completely out of character. So much so, in fact, that she wondered if he wasn't using it to distract both himself and her from far graver matters.

For the first time since he entered the room, she noticed how exhausted he looked. Deep lines were etched into his face, his mouth was set grimly, and his huge, powerful body seemed drained of energy. His vulnerability shocked her.

Since his remorseless destruction of the Norman attackers, she had fallen into the unconscious habit of thinking he was too powerful and too resolute to be overcome by any danger no matter how immense. That belief provided great comfort to her at a time when she badly needed it. But it also did him a terrible disservice.

Kneeling down beside him, Roanna gently took his hand in hers. The calloused palm was rough against her skin. She caressed it tenderly as she gazed up at him with eyes dark with worry.

"What happened at court today?"

He shrugged and glanced away. "Nothing for you to be concerned about"

"Don't say that!" Roanna exclaimed, dismayed that he should treat her like some spineless fool who had to be sheltered from every problem. "I am your wife. I have a right to know what has so distressed you."

"Nothing," Colin repeated stubbornly. More softly, as though the words were dragged from him against his best intention, he added, ".. . and everything."

Roanna's hand tightened on his. "Tell me."

A moment more he hesitated before a low sigh escaped him. "It's difficult to explain exactly. Much that I saw and heard was helpful to us. It's unlikely that I will have any real trouble meeting with William, even if it does take a few days to arrange. What will happen then is anyone's guess, but at least I will have the chance to present my case. If I consider only our own situation, I should be optimistic. But there is so much else. ..."

"Like the women m the market," Roanna murmured.

Coinn nodded. "I was not prepared for the more insidious effects of the Conquest. Men I've known for years and have always looked up to are suddenly stripped of everything important to them. Not just property, but pride, confidence, initiative. . . ."

A harsh edge entered his voice as he added, "It's as though they're simply going through the motions of being alive. I think some of them really wish they had died at Hastings. At least then they would be fallen heroes instead of the guilty survivors they perceive themselves to be."

"Why would anyone regret surviving that battle?" Roanna asked, genuinely bewildered by a possibility that had never so much as occurred to her before. "Even the Normans agree that you all fought magnificently and did everything you could to win."

Colin reached out to gently touch the silken fall of her hair. It glowed golden against his bronzed skin. "I can't explain it to myself, much less to anyone else. But the point is, whatever we tried to do, or might have done, we failed. Now we have to come to terms with the fact that someone else was stronger, luckier, more determined. It doesn't really matter what gave the Normans their victory. What counts is that we have to live with the effects of it" A rueful smile curved his hard mouth. "Some of us are managing that better man others."

Silently Roanna gave thanks for the fact that he was one of those whose strength and courage were equal to the task. She did not doubt that his present weariness was only a temporary setback he would swiftly overcome, especially since she would give him all possible help.

Her head dropped into his lap. Filled with the desperate need to ease his burdens, she was thwarted by her own limits. Beyond encouraging him to talk out his worries within the comfort of a tranquil home, there seemed nothing she could do.

Colin gazed down at her lovingly. He could feel her strength flowing into him and marveled that she had so much to give. For the first time in his life, he understood what the union of a man and woman could truly mean. Father Elferth's prayer that they would be united in spirit seemed to be coming true.

Inevitably, this new, deeper realization of all their love meant had physical consequences. Fatigue vanished as desire surged through him. He longed to reach out for her, but the memory of what she had almost suffered at DeBourgnon's hands stopped hin.

Roanna felt the tension in him and was bewildered by it Since the attack on the stronghold, Colin had not touched her except to give comfort She had told herself that the time and circumstances were not right for them to come together again physically. But the privacy they had lacked during the journey to London was no longer a problem. In the quiet room separate from the rest of the household, he had only to reach out to her.

When he did not, she felt unbearably bereft Coldness washed through her. Her body stiffened as she fought down the urge to plead with him to tell her what was wrong. Only dread of the possible answer stopped her. Stiffening, she pulled away from him.

Colin mistook her anxiety for aversion. He dropped his hands instantly, making no effort to stop her as she stood up. The precious moment of unity evaporated. They were once again isolated in their separate worlds.

Stung by what she regarded as his indifference, Roanna had to call on all her courage to get through the rest of the day. Already exhausted by the journey and the task of setting up the household, her resources were further strained by the jovial mood prevailing during supper in the great hall.

In addition to their women guests, Colin had invited several of the men he met at court to share the meal with them. The chance to come together at the table of a powerful Anglo-Saxon lord just as in the old days was an unlooked-for opportunity to forget briefly the hardships of the last few months. Barely had the meal begun when it took on the air of a celebration.

Roanna had generously shared her wardrobe, with the result that Lady Margaret and her friends were all elegantly turned out Vast relief at the sudden change in their fortunes brought a glow to faces that only a few hours before had been strained and careworn. After balancing for so long on the keen edge of pain and despair, they could not contain their joy at being once again surrounded by the familiar talismen of their own way of life.

Nothing could ever lessen the shadow of grief for those who were lost But there was still room in their hearts for gladness as they took their places in the hall bright with torchlight and boisterous with the din of reassuringly male voices.

Nor were the men immune to the sudden appearance of women whose serene graciousness made the events of the last few months seem no more than a terrible dream. For a brief time, it was possible to throw off the weight of despair and luxuriate in the well-remembered but hitherto lost pleasures of congenial company, excellent food, and feminine admiration.

The shortage of furniture in the keep made it necessary for everyone to sit together. The ladies were quickly surrounded by appreciative gentlemen vying for their attention. Roanna could not help but smile as she watched Alaric maneuver to keep Lady Margaret at his side. But her smile faded when she glanced wistfully at Colin, only to find his eyes shuttered and his expression blank.

Though they sat side by side throughout the meal, they said hardly a word to each other. Roanna forced herself to pretend interest in the conversations going on around her. But try though she did, his nearness remained a constant distraction.

Seated as close together as they were, she could feel the warmth of his body through her thin silk tunic and surcoat. Several times as they passed platters between them their fingers brushed. The contact robbed her of what little appetite she had. The food might have been tasteless for all the attention she was able to give it, and the wine she sipped seemed sour.

Acutely aware of how strange their behavior must appear, she was grateful for their guests' absorption in each other. Only Lady Margaret showed any sign of noticing that something was wrong. Her quizzical glance fell first on Roanna, then on Colin. For just a moment there was a glimmer of understanding in her bright blue eyes before simple courtesy compelled her to look away.

As the meal wore on, Roanna sensed a change. Soothed by ample food and drink, reassured by their familiar surroundings, and perhaps innocently provoked by the presence of the women, the men were slowly moving from nostalgic talk of the time before Hastings to tentative consideration of what had happened since then.

It was the battle itself that became the focal point of an increasingly spirited discussion. All the men had fought on that blood-drenched plain, and each had his own ideas about what had gone wrong.

"It was the forced march from London," one asserted. "By the time we found William the army was exhausted. A few days rest would have made all the difference."

"The reinforcements we were expecting from Northumbria would have turned the tide," claimed another. "But they never arrived."

A red-bearded lord shook his head vehemently. "We still had the Normans outnumbered and we were winning, until that false retreat they staged tricked us into giving up the high ground."

There were reluctant nods around the table. "King Harold, may he rest in peace, tried to stop that," Alaric remembered. "But the army wasn't sufficiently disciplined. Once the ranks broke, there was no calling it back."

"The Normans didn't have that problem. Whatever else they may be, they know how to fight as one."

"Still, if Harold hadn't been killed, it might have been different"

"Aye, it was when he fell that the battle was lost"

"What army can be expected to fight without its leader?"

"If William had died, the Normans would have been the ones to lose."

"It was just the luck of the draw that Harold was cut down."

"Who could have figured a Norman archer would be skilled enough to hit him from that distance?"

"No one could have prevented it"

"That's right, no one."

Instinctively, the men glanced toward Colin. He had remained silent throughout the discussion, but they presumed he would agree with them. Instead, he shook his head firmly.