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Authors: Her Norman Conqueror

Malia Martin (12 page)

BOOK: Malia Martin
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“Here now, man, we’ll have none of that.” One of the men chuckled.

“He’s more dangerous than he looks,” the man who held Cyne by the arm said, his tone more serious than that of his friend.

“We’ll be going back into the hall then.” The third guard bowed in Aleene’s direction. “I wish you a good night Aleene, lady of Seabreeze Castle.”

Aleene could only stare at her husband as the men led him away from her. She felt as if she had been ripped in half. Still, her heart beat an uneven, quickened rhythm against her breast. She turned away, putting out her hand to steady herself.

She touched the smooth wood of a wall. No pleasure came from feeling the wall, her wall. Her heart did not leap at the sight of it. It did not promise her a lifetime of smiles, of warmth, of love. Aleene pushed away quickly, clenching her hands at her side as she ran for the stairs and her chamber.

Berthilde bustled about Aleene’s chamber the next morning, readying the bath.

“Why do you not look at me like the others, Berthilde?” Aleene asked suddenly.

Berthilde straightened, her brows lifted in surprise. “Milady?”

She had spoken on impulse, and now wished she hadn’t, but Aleene repeated her question. “The others have always hated me and yet you do not. Why Berthilde?”

“They do not hate you, milady.”

Aleene laughed derisively. “They heralded the coming of Tosig as if he were God, they look at me as if I, myself, pushed him from the cliff to his death. And I have fought to be their lady since the day this holding finally passed to me.”

“Perhaps you should not fight so hard.”

Aleene stared down at her feet, white against the dark rushes that littered the floor. “Why are you not like them, Berthilde?”

“I know you, milady. I bathed you as a babe.” They had never spoken thus, and Berthilde now seemed shy. “Now, into the bath, milady.” She gestured brusquely and turned her back.

With a sigh, Aleene took off her clothes and lowered herself into the comforting bath water.

“There was a rumor, milady, that you did push Tosig over the cliff,” Berthilde said, never turning around.

Aleene stopped in the midst of her ablutions. “But, how could they think . . .” she let the words trail off. “I mean I hated him, but I would never. . .”

“It is only a few who speak against you, milady, but the others listen atimes. You are different from them, and distant.”

With a sound of disgust, Aleene slipped quickly down and dunked her head beneath the water. Silence surrounded her for a peaceful moment, the movement of the water making her head bob, the warmth against her skin making her want to stay for a very long time. But she surfaced, finally, breathing in a great lungful of air.

“I am to go picking herbs this noon, milady. Meet me there, we shall speak.”

“Speak to me now, Berthilde,” Aleene said, a desperate plea in her tone that had never been there before. “I need to talk now.”

Berthilde only shook her head slightly, still keeping her back to Aleene. “No, this noon in the forest where no ears are about.”

Aleene looked quickly toward the door. “This noon then,” she said dipping her hand in the soap on the table at her side.

Immediately following supper, Aleene rushed from the great hall, ready to run the entire way to the forest, but instead she ran straight into a large, unforgiving chest. “Ouch!”

“My dear, sweet stepsister.” Aethregard’s long fingers wrapped around her upper arms and steadied her. “Where would you be going off to in such a hurry?”

Aleene shook her arms and tried to break free of Aethregard’s grasp. He only tightened his hold. With narrowed eyes, Aleene looked up into her stepbrother’s slitty gaze. “Let go of me, Aethregard. Now.” She put every ounce of disdain she had into her words.

“Ah, my lady of Seabreeze, such modesty.” He released her only to smooth his hands down her arms and quickly grab her hands. “But really we are soon to be husband and wife, can we not, at least, hold hands?”

Aleene yanked her hands away just as Aethregard pulled them up to his lips. “We are to be nothing beyond stepbrother and stepsister, you fiend, and perhaps I will someday find a way to cut even that tie.” She wanted to retreat, but she stood firm, chin up, eyes throwing daggers. “If you will excuse me, I have work to do.” She stepped around Aethregard and stalked away.

“But, my dear, that is why I’m here.” Aethregard’s voice so near her ear made Aleene jump. She quickened her gait, but her stepbrother only matched her speed. “I want to see all of the workings of Seabreeze Castle. I have the time now that King Harold has dispensed with the Fyrd. I can spend the entire day with you.”

“How delightful.” Aleene stopped short, smirking as Aethregard continued on, halting a few feet ahead and looking about as if lost. She smiled, baring her teeth and tilting the corners of her mouth, when her stepbrother turned. “Really, brother mine, I do believe you may be terribly bored to accompany me as I see to the job of a woman.” She fluttered her lashes, then raised her hand and hailed Cuthebert, who had just walked into the bailey.

“You shall be much more interested, I’m sure, to spend the day with Cuthebert. He shall show you the books.” She knew that Aethregard and Cuthebert were so thick, her steward had probably already shown her stepbrother every book in the castle. A foul taste tinged her tongue as she acknowledged Cuthebert, who stood before her.

“Show Aethregard the books, Cuthebert.”

Her steward flashed a startled look at Aethregard. “But, milady, you have asked me not to.”

“And now I’m asking you to do it, Cuthebert. Is there a problem?”

“Of course not.”

“Good.”

“What goes on in that head of yours, Aleene?” Aethregard asked, stepping close to her, so close she could smell his fetid breath and see the black holes that had already began to eat at his dull, yellow teeth.

Aleene grimaced at the sight and gritted her teeth. “Many, many things happen in this head, although I’m sure that is hard for you to believe.” It was not in her nature to run, but she did. That voice, those eyes, everything in that moment reminded her of ugly days. Days when she was at the mercy of Aethregard’s father, never able to run far enough,
never able to wake her mother from her grief long enough to enjoy her protection.

She reached the edge of the forest out ol breath and gasping. With her arm across her belly, Aleene leaned over and wretched, heaving when the food was gone and bringing up nothing but small, hiccuping sounds.

“Are you ill, milady?” Berthilde’s hands caressed her arms and Aleene quickly shook her head, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and trying desperately to regain her composure.

Berthilde stepped away from her, clasping her hands before her and wrinkling her brow. They stood silently for a moment, the only sound Aleene’s heavy breathing. “Perhaps you could do that for an audience?”

Aleene coughed once more, and straightened. “An audience?”

Berthilde shifted the basket of herbs in her hands, her gaze searching the treetops for a moment. “I fear you are with child, milady.”

Aleene smoothed her veil away from her face and shook her head. “Oh, no, Berthilde, you do not understand. I could not be with child, it is just that Aethregard . . .”

“I do not think you understand, milady.” Berthilde turned her gaze fully on Aleene. “I fear you are with child.”

Aleene blinked, the ramifications of her maid’s statement making her head swim.

“We should relay the news to the king.”

Aleene bit her lip, anxiety building in her chest and making it hard to breathe. “Is this what you wished to speak of, Berthilde?”

“I am not your enemy, Aleene. I see the good that Cynewulf has brought with him into this castle of heartache. I want him to stay as you do.” She pinched a leaf of one of her herbs between her fingers, releasing a heady perfume of spearmint into the air. “I wish Aethregard gone.”

“’Tis a frightening thing we do, Berthilde. We shall be lying to the king.”

Berthilde stopped fiddling with her plants and dragged her palm against her apron. She looked away for a moment. “I shall relay the news of your sickness immediately, milady.” Her maid turned away and hurried toward the castle.

Aleene could only stare at Berthilde’s back. A tiny ray of hope burned in her chest, but black fear threatened to extinguish it completely.

Chapter 7

“N
o!” Aleene cried, feeling as if her world was crumbling out from under her feet. “He is my husband! I am to have his child!”

“And until you have his child, he will stay with me.” King Harold turned away from her and stared out one of the large windows that ran the length of the solarium.

Aleene closed her eyes and dropped back into a chair. Why, oh why had she not consummated her marriage when she had the chance? Then perhaps she
would
be with child now. Clenching her fist so hard her fingernails bit into her palm, Aleene cursed her stepfather for hurting her, and cursed herself for being weak enough to let him.

Damn them all.
She stood quickly and whirled toward the door.

“Lady Aleene, I have not dismissed you.” Again the king’s voice sounded weary rather than strong and demanding. But Aleene stopped, bowing her head as she turned back to face her king.

“I do not have to explain myself to you, Aleene.” She felt him advance on her, saw his
shadow creep closer to her. “But as a friend of your father’s I feel I owe it to you.” He stopped before her. “Your father built this castle knowing that it would go to you someday. But also, he built it thinking he would be here to make sure you married wisely—”

“But—”

The king held up his hand. “No, Aleene, listen.”

Aleene bent her head again.

“This land is strategic, the castle one of a kind,” the King continued. “It is important that I know that Seabreeze castle is well defended and loyal to me.”

Aleene could feel her anger building. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up straight, her arms trembled, her teeth ground together so hard her jaw hurt. Why? Why could no one see that she could do all of that herself?

“Tosig was loyal to me. We agreed together that your betrothal to Aethregard was a perfect match, although I always thought it strange that he wanted such a late day for your wedding. And now Aethregard wishes to marry you early, and I must agree with him. I find myself having to strengthen all of my strategic holdings. Aethregard is a good man, loyal to me as his father was and smart on the battle field.”

Aleene took a breath, ready to interrupt again, ready to defend herself and her abilities and very ready to tell the king that Aethregard was definitely not a good man, but he held up his hand again.

“This man you call your husband cannot be the lord of this castle, Aleene. You shall bear his child and if it is a boy, and if it is clear-headed, I shall allow you to stay here with your husband with Aethregard as your protector until the child is of age to take over.”

“But the land is mine, the castle is mine by law,” Aleene wanted to yell the words, but she kept her tone controlled, barely. “’Tis a dower property.”

“With this castle and the growing threat from across the channel, this land is too valuable to be a dower property, Aleene:”

Aleene stiffened, her breathing slowing. Black dots whirled before her eyes.

“I shall have to force upon you a keeper for this property whom I can trust. A man, Aleene. And beginning with your progeny, Seabreeze Castle will descend through the male line.”

Aleene allowed herself a breath of air in relief. She had thought for a terrifying moment that Harold meant to take Seabreeze completely from her and give it to Aethregard. When she had banished any threat of fainting, Aleene began her assault once more. “I do not need a keeper, your highness, you must believe me. I can take care of Seabreeze . . .”

Harold cut her off, holding his hand up as if he could take no more. “I have spoken, it is law.” He turned away from her. “You may go now, Lady Aleene. I shall be leaving, returning to Bosham. Your husband shall accompany me.”

“But . . .” her voice trailed away as he turned toward her again, his eyes steely, his face hard.

“Aethregard shall remain. We will leave in two days.”

Aleene bowed her head and turned to leave. All her strength had left her; she could not fight King Harold. She knew that. Aleene turned down the dark hall and saw Berthilde waiting for her. Their plan had failed. Aleene felt close to complete defeat. What could she possibly do now?

Dinner had already begun when Aleene heard her stepbrother’s low voice behind her.

“Whore.”

Aleene stiffened, but did not acknowledge Aethregard in any other way. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him move away from her and take a seat further down the table.

She forced steadiness, reaching for her goblet and sipping the dark ale. Servants brought out
platters of mutton and set them on the long tables. Wrinkling her nose, Aleene turned her head from the pungent smell of the meat. If it were not impossible, she would think she may be pregnant. Just the thought of putting the dark, oily meat onto her trencher turned her stomach. She quickly broke off a piece of bread and nibbled at it.

BOOK: Malia Martin
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