The Everlasting Covenant (17 page)

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Authors: Robyn Carr

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Fiction

BOOK: The Everlasting Covenant
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Marcella swung her legs from under the quilt and reached for a wrapper. Her graying hair, mussed and hanging to her shoul
ders, made her long face look sallow.

Be quick, Divina. I have business this morning.


Aye, madam. Do you know what your youngest child has been about? While our guard sleeps in the hall, Anne has been in the cask room with our prisoner.

Divina smiled at her moth
er

s shocked expression.

DeFrayne has spoiled her
;
guilt burns her cheeks and she begged me to be silent.


You ... saw her?

Marcella asked in a whisper, her eyes blazing and almost wild.


I left her moments ago. She uses her own key and wore only a thin bedgown.

Tis plain enough they
--


Nooooo,

Marcella shrieked, jumping to her feet. Her pale complexion became pasty white and her mouth twisted.

No!

Not again!
She rushed toward her bower door, her wrapper still below her shoulders. Anne had not protested the imprisonment, nor the execution. She had said nothing at all. How
could she have gone to him ..
. and why?

Marcella stopped suddenly, her hand on the latch, and leaned her forehead against the cool oak.

No,

she murmured. Could she love a deFrayne? How c
ould such escape her notice ..
. there must have been signs.


The earl will not take her now,

Divina said from behind her. Marcella could not mistake the delight in her daughter

s voice. She turned back to Divina, slowly trying to grasp the situation. Her heart pounded in her chest; her head felt light, and she was suddenly dizzy. Ferris had argued to spare him. Ferris knew! How had they managed to fool her?


I

m sure when Lord Forbes learns the truth, he will find a pure bride more
--


Hush,

Marcella snapped.

Let me think.

She shook her head to try to clear the haze that had engulfed her. Her daughter had soiled herself with a deFrayne. Blood lust seeped into her heart and she clenched her fists.
Damn her,
she thought. If it was not enough that her husband had lusted after the bitch, Daphne, now her daughter did the same. And if that insult was not enough, she had thrown away the single chance of using the earl

s influence to gain power and wealth. She snarled in rage. The girl had done only on
e thing right since her birth –
she had captured a rich and influential earl.

I will beat her

til she bleeds,

Marcella muttered.


The earl will not find her so pretty then,

Divina said.


Indeed not, he
--

Marcella stopped abruptly.

No one else knows?

she asked Divina.


I came here straightaway,
madam. I thought you should ..
.


Good. Good. The earl must never know.

Her mind was tangled with ideas, plans. Anne had never argued for Dylan

s life, nor had she tried to sneak him out of Raedelle.
That could only mean one thing –
Anne intended to marry the earl because Dylan was doomed to die.
Then how,
Marcella wondered,
did Anne hope to pass off her lost virtue? Had the earl had her first?

Forbes had panted after her skirts like a dog with a scent

perhaps she had yielded to Forbes to cover her misdeed. Anne was either a very stupid wench, or she was clever enough to be certain Lord Forbes would still take her.


She must be very confident that the earl will not begrudge her lost innocence,

Marcella mumbled, merely thinking aloud.


She will be very surprised then. The earl will find me
--


Don

t be a fool! The earl does not want you! Have you not seen enough of his besotted lust to be convinced? He wants Anne. So, he will take her as she comes.


But Mother
--


If you say one word about this I will have you stripped and lashed. My silly daughter has risked our alliance with Ayliffe, but it is not gone yet. Soon enough, I will understand her plan.


But Mother, if you tell Lord Forbes the truth and offer him a pure bride, he will be
grateful. I was to marry first –
you cannot let her go to him now. It would be a disgrace. What man of reputation would take a whore to wife? She is a whore, I am a virgin!

Marcella barely heard her daughter

s arguments and pleas. She was thinking of Anne, whom she had always co
nsidered a bother and nuisance –
Anne, whose birth had caused her not only great physical pain, but also heartache. Anne

s birth had changed her, had brought the hard truth home, and she had hardly been able to look at her since.

She had ignored the child –
thus Anne had never struggled to please the way the other children had. Then, with the earl

s betrothal, Anne

s opinion of herself had become lofty. She threatened to withhold the earl

s influence from her family if they did not tread carefully on her good nature.
Hah,
Marcella thought.
That was before.
Now Anne would work hard to see her family bettered, or the earl would be told the truth.


My daughter will use her wiles to help our cause now,

she said.

Aye, my daughter will work hard to please me now.


Mother, you cannot mean it! You must not allow
--


Shut up, Divina! If you say one word, I will beat you until you bleed!


Mother ..
.

Marcella ignored the tears in her daughter

s voice. The sky was growing light.

Dress yourself. Now I have even better reason to see the bastard hang.

Divina crept from her mother

s room, her head down and tears wetting her cheeks. She walked listlessly toward her own chamber. She greatly regretted her misjudgment. Had she been wiser, she would have used Anne

s offered influence for her own case. Now, since she had turned the information over to her mother, it was useless.

Marcella dressed hurriedly, not even taking the time to have her hair brushed. She pulled a wimple over her knotted mane and went hurriedly to Anne

s bower. She opened the door and saw Anne, fully dressed, seated on her bed. Anne slowly turned her gaze from the emerging dawn, toward her mother.


He will die in any case,

Marcella said.

Anne, dry-eyed and grim, lifted her chin slightly. She would not stand.


How do you plan to trick the earl? Did he steal your virginity first so that you could take deFrayne between your legs without reprisal from your husband?

Anne stared at her mother levelly. She would admit to noth
ing. She would not cooperate.


Whatever your intention, daughter,
you will help your family now –
you will urge Lord Forbes to do right by your brothers, or I will tell him what
I
know. Remember, Anne, that at any moment of my choosing, I can tell Ayliffe that you cuckolded him with deFrayne.


At any moment, madam, that you feel you can afford the cost to the Gifford family,

she replied calmly.

Marcella smiled.

We understand each other.
I
confess, I did not think the day would ever come.

Marcella slowly pulled the bower door closed, leaving Anne to consider what had been said.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

Mar
cella was seated
in the hall when Quentin
entered. He was alone and she hoped that Bart was staying to stand beside her, but he dashed her hopes instantly.

Will you come into the courtyard and bid us farewell and God

s blessings, madam?

Quentin asked. As Marcella looked at her firstborn child, she thought how strongly Quentin resembled her father and brother, both dead over twenty years now. She had always favored Quentin, but she understood Bart better. Bart was the last one she expected to cross her.


If you rescind your decision and await the deFrayne hanging before you depart, of course I will pray for you. Otherwise ...


Nay, my lady mother, I cannot do that. I regret to say that had you quickly ended his life, I would have been standing beside you, but these many days of waiting have brought me a vision or two. I see that Father is
completely right –
you satisfy an old vengeance when these deFrayne men are actually pris
oners of York, and should be given to him to settle any score
.
It was not a deFrayne-Gifford war in which they were captured. We should be with our father now.


Then you will not change your mind?

He slowly shook his head, and she could see by Quentin

s eyes that he had managed to form a pact with Bart.

I would stay to change your mind but for one thing
--
our father is fighting for the duke alone. I hope he can forgive us for our delay, for this is nothing more than folly that keeps us here.


You brought the deFraynes to me,

she nearly shouted.


Aye,

he shouted back.

And then I buried Sir Wayland. Do you know what I felt? My fiercest rival, from an argument so old that I cannot even remember the cause, was finally dead. And I
felt mourning come to me. Mourn
ing! I have been meeting Wayland in contests for ten years, as my brothers have met Wayland

s brothers, as men-at-arms in green have met blue for so many years. But when we passed on the road, or in the feasting celebrations at tourneys and fairs, they did not raise arms against us. Nothing more than heated words crossed, never swords or axes. Had we been captured, I doubt we would have been treated thus. I think the conflict could finally be resolved if you would release deFrayne.


Bart would not agree with that,

she said.


Bart is a young fool, and you have done much to encourage him. But even Bart sees the folly in angering our liege lord. He will not stand by you while
you whittle away his only oppor
tunity to prosper.

Marcella frowned blackly. How dare Quentin
place such an accusation on her?
Anne had done more to threaten the earl

s support than she ever had. But she could not say anything. The moment that information was out of her hands, Anne might be out of the earl

s good graces. She was not foolish enough to think that Earl Ayliffe would continue to support the Giffords without his chosen bride.


Let him live,

Quentin entreated.


Never! He must die!

Quentin

s shoulders slumped in exasperation.

Then carry on your revenge alone, madam. You may, in your action, spawn another six decades of hatred and death.

Marcella

s mouth was set in a vitriolic grimace, her hands so tight on the arms of her chair that her knuckles were bleached.

Quentin turned to leave. She half rose, tears of rage stinging in her eyes.

They killed my father,

she shouted at his back.

Quentin faced her one last time before leaving.

Someone has to be first to stop the killing.

There was nothing more she could say. When Quentin was a boy she could incense him with tales of her father

s wrongful death because Quentin could not bear the thought of losing a treasured father. But too soon it became only the death of a grandfather her sons had never known.

Marcella told her children, when she deemed them old
enough to really appreciate her
tale, that she had been sought after for marriage by a member of the deFrayne household, but her father, a Gifford knight, refused to be allied with those treacherous heathens. Her father

s murder, then, was in retaliation, since he gave his daughter to the Gifford heir. It was a lie. Marcella had not been desired by any man. Not even her own hus
band.

Marcella had suffered unbearable pain at the hands of the deFraynes, though her father

s death was incidental to her suf
fering. Her children would not understand the truth, and she was too ashamed to tell it. Marcella had been fourteen when her older brother was knighted and, like their father, pledged allegiance to Lord Gifford, Ferris

s father. Ferris was the second Gifford son, but the eldest was weak and frivolous and the old lord was tottering with age. Marcella fell in love with Ferris the first moment she saw him.

But Ferris, so tall, strong, darkly handsome, and distant, never looked Marcella

s way. She watched him with longing every time they attended the same event. At tournaments, fairs, Saints

days, even at mass ... but Ferris was far, far away.

Things were not so very different then, although the hatred the Giffords felt for the deFraynes was somewhat fresh still, only thirty years old. But the king had ordered a stop to the fighting between the families and issued a decree that they could meet only in fair competition on tourney fields to bleed out their anger. And so it had been Gifford sons pitted against deFrayne sons then, as it was now. And whenever those two houses met,
the crowds were wild with excitement, knowing the rivalry was so deep that each side wished to kill the other. It never failed to be an exciting match.

Sir Ferris, as a young and handsome knight, met deFrayne heirs just as Quentin met Wayland, and he passively accepted Marcella

s tokens and good wishes. Marcella did not understand his reluctance to consider her, she was a young woman of many assets. She was fair-colored and pale, which she thought all men preferred. She was large-boned, tall, not pretty, perhaps, but she would birth many children with ease. And Marcella was very clever for a young daughter of a knight; she could read and cipher, rare talents among girls. She had been reared at Raedelle, although in the home of a knight and not a baron, and she did not set her sights on the eldest, the heir, but on the second-born son. Ferris need not marry nobility, but only marry with wisdom and give the Gifford house many children. Marcella was eager to do this for him. She was as strong and smart as any man and could eas
ily look him square in the eye –
she could be his equal if any woman could.

But the young knight had eyes often glittering in the direction of a young, slight woman. Her hair was not golden, but an odd, light brown that was streaked with gold and red. She was tiny and dainty and no doubt would have trouble with childbearing. She appeared frail and was so pampered by her parents, it was doubtful that she had the mettle required to manage a man

s home. Marcella had hated her on sight.

Many saw the way Ferris looked at this dainty one, and rumors started. They were lovers, it was said. The girl, Daphne, was also the daughter of a knight, but a knight of more impressive means than Marcella

s father.

Marcella heard that the two young people desperately sought alliances from nobles and priests to help convince their respec
tive families to allow them to marry. She ache
d for attention from Ferris –
she was afraid she would lose him. But Daphne

s father went straightway to the young deFrayne heir, Lord deFrayne, the richer noble, pledged his fealty there and had his daughter wed before her purity could be tainted by a less wealthy
Gifford. Daphne was spirited away to Heathwick and became a countess overnight.

At first Marcella was relieved that Daphne was so quickly whisked out of the way. Slowly, relief faded into resentment, for Ferris was hostile, brokenhearted, and even more distant. He refused to marry at all. He stayed away on campaigns as often as possible, as if in wait for Daphne. He paid no other woman the slightest attention, though Marcella

s father and brother tried to interest him in her.

In the next three years both Ferris

s father and older brother died of a winter illness that took many lives in Raedelle. Ferris, now Lord Gifford, was forced to come home. He held full title. He was not the strong man he had been. Oh, his arm was as strong, his lance as skilled as ever, but he seemed dispirited. His eyes, deep brown and fluid, always seemed far away and dulled by pain. He was sullen and quiet. But he was a baron wit
h a large, though only modestly
rich, keep. There was pres
sure from the crown to marry or see his family estate dispensed to strangers when he died. Almost in resignation Ferris took Marcella as his wife.

In the beginning Marcella intended to change Ferris back into the young gallant she had fallen in love with. She tried to show him passion, courage, strength, and wisdom. Then, in her first year of marriage, when Marcella was swollen with her first child, her father was killed in the uprising in the north. It was rumored, though never proven, that the deFraynes had attacked the Gif
ford troop from within the battle. The rumor incensed her, for it fed her jealousy toward Daphne. She had Ferris, but she did not feel with certainty that she had taken him away from Daphne. Marcella swore vengeance on the deFrayne family. Ferris tried to quiet her rage, which caused her even greater anger. Ferris said he thought it was feasible that returning soldiers, embar
rassed by their numbers lost in the fray, had to invent some excuse for failure. He wa
s all for ending the hostility –
it had caused enough pain and heartache.

She tried for ten years to change his mood of indifference. If he would say he hated all deFraynes, she would have consid
ered it a small victory, but
instead he would only admit to
hating Lord deFrayne, and she knew well enough what that meant. Ferris eventually took pride in his sons, but he never met Mar
cella in passion. He never said he loved her. He ignored her great skills in managing his home, her ability to give him chil
dren so efficiently. He even chastised her for assuming too many duties, for making decisions that were his to make, for being obstinate and presumptuous.

His faraway eyes never met hers. She had thought that her devotion and her hard work would draw him closer to her, if not to love. But he had not loved her. He never pr
ized her. Mar
cella

s disappointment gradually turned into bitterness and hate.

Then there was Anne. Marcella had given birth eight times, and only three times had she failed to produce a living child. Anne came last, and the birth was difficult and danger
ous. Mar
cella was abed for months following Anne

s birth, and the c
hild was troublesome to manage –
she cried often and loudly. Marcella thought she was dying, but Ferris still did not kneel at her bedside and speak endearing terms of love, of caring. Finally, she told him that she thought it would be dangerous for her to attempt to have another child. She had talked to the midwives and learned some methods known to work toward keeping a woman from coming with child, and she was willing to explain them. But she did not have the chance. When she told her husband that she dare not have another child, he told her that he did not expect it of her. He slept in a different room and did not return to her bed.

Anne

s birth had brought the final, blinding truth. Ferris did not love her and never would. Her pain was so intense that she refused to hold the child even when she was well enough. Her indifference to the new baby only caused Ferris to dote on Anne. Marcella turned her attention toward her sons, determined to build them into important men who would not only appreciate her, but go to great lengths to please her. Divina had some of what energy there was left, but
Marcella could hardly bear to
look at Anne.

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