The Rake (27 page)

Jean bowed again. “I am happy to be of
service, my lord.”

Lord Arnaud nodded. “Then set them to work
cleaning this pig sty. Remove anything that can be fixed for the
craftsmen to repair. The rest should be piled far enough from this
tender box so that it can be burned without setting the house
ablaze, as well.”

Jean looked at him uncomfortably.

“
Is there ought about the
order that you do not understand?” Lord Arnaud demanded
impatiently.

Jean swallowed with an effort. “The
carpenter and his apprentice were killed when the … uh … others
arrived,” he said weakly.

Lord Arnaud’s lips tightened with barely
suppressed fury. After a moment, he nodded. “The order stands. Use
your best judgment. Dispose only of those things that appear beyond
redeeming.”

Battered as they were, everyone was so
relieved that they were expected to do no more than perform the
tasks familiar to them that they nigh fell over themselves to show
their willingness to comply. Elspeth knotted her gown together the
best she could and set to work with them.

The first of the servants to venture outside
to begin the task of disposing of broken furnishings returned
fearfully. Lord Arnaud, they said, had rounded up Lord Renard’s men
and had lined them up at the whipping posts. The news sent a ripple
of unease through everyone as the thought occurred that they might
be next, and everyone bent to their tasks with renewed vigor,
despairing, but hopeful their efforts might please Lord Arnaud
enough that he would consider showing some leniency.

Elspeth would have preferred to remain
inside and as unobtrusive as possible, but she was as fearful as
the others and presently gathered an armful of refuse and went out
to see what she might learn of Lord Arnaud’s plans. She made
Griselda walk with her, hopeful it would make her less conspicuous,
but when she nerved herself to glance toward the proceedings, she
saw that Lord Arnaud was watching the progress of the servants to
and from the growing pile of refuse. His dark gaze so unnerved her
that she stumbled. Griselda steadied her, preventing her from
falling on her face, and she concentrated thereafter on listening
rather than watching.

When she returned to the hall, she was able
to report that Lord Arnaud had ordered twenty lashes for each of
the men he’d charged with the task of securing his holdings,
including Lord Renard, who was his bastard half brother.

They were certain she must be wrong. Twenty
lashes hardly seemed like any punishment at all if he truly was
displeased about their behavior. When Jean confirmed her report,
they became excited with the notion that it seemed to indicate Lord
Arnaud was not nearly so much to be feared as they’d thought.

It was a dangerous misconception, Elspeth
thought, and pointed out to them that Lord Renard, whom they were
so certain was far more to be feared, had quailed before his half
brother. “I think it’s far more likely he doesn’t wish to render
them completely useless. It would be a mistake we might all come to
regret to perceive him as weak only because he seems to have shown
mercy to his men. There seems to be some hope, however, that so
long as we do as we are told, we need not be overly fearful.”

They scattered and hurried about their tasks
when they saw that Lord Arnaud had returned to check their
progress. Unfortunately, no one noticed his arrival until Elspeth
had finished speaking, including Elspeth, and she couldn’t forebear
sending a panicked, and she didn’t doubt, guilty, glance in his
direction before she hurried to join the servants and, hopefully,
vanish among them.

When she finally nerved herself to glance at
him again, she saw that his gaze was on her still and the uneasy
feeling that he had realized she was the old lord’s daughter could
not be shaken.

To her relief, he seemed reasonably
satisfied with their progress, however, and left again after he’d
thoroughly frightened everyone out of the little wit that remained
to them by watching their progress with his cold, assessing gaze.
Mid morning, Jean was summoned and disappeared for a while. When he
returned it was to inform them that they were to prepare a meal for
the men. Ordinarily, that wouldn’t have been cause for great alarm,
but there was little left in the larder to appease fighting men.
Her father had taken much of their supplies with him when he’d gone
off to make war, and Renard’s men had made great inroads into what
had been left in the two weeks since their arrival. To make matters
worse, much had been destroyed when they’d seized Rasgarth.

Renewed fear swelled among them. It didn’t
matter that they were not responsible. They would be held
responsible and bring Lord Arnaud’s wrath down upon their
heads.

Assuring them that something could be
managed, Elspeth directed them to return to their work, sent the
kitchen folk to the kitchen to set it to rights and went off with
Jean to check the larder to see if it was possible to keep her
word. Her mother had died at her birth. She had been chatelaine of
her father’s household for years and there had been many lean ones
in her time when the crops had failed or a particularly bad winter
and late spring had required a good deal of skill to keep the folk
fed. She felt--hoped--she could come up with something that would
at least be filling if not particularly elegant.

The condition of the larder dismayed her,
however. There was no fresh meat since Renard and his men had
seemed more inclined to drink and whore than pursue anything
useful, and very little smoked meat. The bread was virtually
non-existent and most of the cheese was gone, as well.

“
We are going to starve,”
Elspeth said with conviction once she’d assessed the situation, “if
Lord Arnaud doesn’t slay us first. How many Normans would you guess
there are, Jean?”

Even as she glanced toward Jean, the larder
grew dark as someone stepped into the doorway, blocking the light.
She glanced quickly toward the door.

“
What did she ask you?”
Lord Arnaud asked coolly.

Jean glanced at Elspeth nervously before he
answered. “We were trying to calculate how much we would need to
feed everyone, my lord.”

Lord Arnaud studied him piercingly for
several moments and finally turned to survey the larder, his face
hardening. “By what name is she called?” he asked as his gaze
settled at last upon Elspeth.

“
La--Elspeth.”

Lord Arnaud’s gaze zeroed in upon Jean once
more. One dark brow arched upward. Instead of commenting on Jean’s
near slip, however, he informed Jean to see to unpacking the
supplies he’d brought with him.

Elspeth sagged with relief when he’d left
with Jean following at his heels. She found that she was shaking
with reaction. She had never considered herself a coward, but the
reign of terror they’d experienced at the hands of the Normans had
done more than instill a healthy respect of them. It had made her
long to flee to some place safe from their merciless tempers. She
would have except that she had nowhere to run to--any family she
might have that had survived the invasion would not be in any
position to lend her aid. She was certain in any case that the
Normans would only hunt down anyone who tried to flee--Lord Renard
had made great sport of doing so.

She’d hoped to escape notice, however, and
with the best will in the world, she could not make herself believe
that she had. Somehow, most likely because he believed she was his
brother’s whore, Lord Arnaud had focused his attention upon
her--with suspicion she feared, but she did not want his attention
for any reason.

That thought provoked a wry glance at
herself. She had once been considered comely, but she need not look
upon her reflection to know that she could have no appeal now for
any man. Lord Renard had battered her face into a grotesque,
misshapen mask. She was filthy from having been thrown on the floor
like a common doxy at any time Lord Renard had been sober enough to
spy her, and she had been slow enough for him to catch. Her hair
was filthy as well, and scarcely half of it still contained within
its braid since they had ransacked her apartments and she no longer
even had so much as a comb to her name.

She wasn’t certain why Lord Arnaud was
interested, but she thought she needn’t fear that he would take his
brother’s place. Unlike his pig of a brother, Lord Arnaud seemed a
fastidious man. He wore the grime of the road, of course, but he
had not the look of someone careless about their person, and his
determination to see that the manor was cleaned seemed to support
that assessment.

Very likely it was only that he suspected
that she was not a servant at all, but that was hardly
reassuring.

Despite her anxieties, Lord Arnaud
concentrated on securing his new holdings and setting it to rights.
He and the men he’d brought with him spent most of their days
hunting for fresh meat for the larder, patrolling, and making
certain the serfs were tending the fields that had not been
destroyed. The men he’d had whipped were given the additional
punishment of having to supply the labor they’d deprived their lord
of by slaying so many of his serfs and were put to work preparing
the foundation for a stone wall that was to surround the manor in
the style of a European fortification.

Little more than a week after his arrival,
just as they’d begun to relax and the workings of the manor had
begun to resume some semblance of normalcy, they learned why Lord
Arnaud had set about seeing that the household was put to rights as
quickly as possible. His bride arrived from Normandy.

Chapter Two

Elspeth and Griselda had found shelter for
themselves in one of the tiny cottages near the manor that had
belonged to one of the craftsmen killed in the initial raid. Lord
Renard had been kept far too busy to turn his unwanted attentions
upon her since Lord Arnaud’s arrival, and the lord himself had been
preoccupied with trying to set his estate in order. Yet, Elspeth
knew the peace would not last.

Her bruises had faded. Sooner or later, if
she was too available, Renard would notice her again and life would
once more become the nightmare it had been before Lord Arnaud’s
arrival.

The cottage provided the most that she could
hope for in avoiding Renard.

Little escaped the new lord of the manor,
however, as Elspeth discovered when she opened the door to Jean one
evening after she and Griselda had finished their duties and been
allowed to seek their rest.

He looked uneasy and Elspeth was immediately
alarmed. “What has happened?” she asked a little breathlessly.

Jean twisted his cap uncomfortably. “Might I
come in for a word with you, Lady?”

Elspeth gripped his arm and dragged him
inside. “I wish you would not call me that! I am lady no more, and
I would as soon our enemies did not know that I am the daughter of
Odolf.”

He flushed but looked even more
uncomfortable. “I am not so certain he has not figured it out. He
sent me to find you. I am to tell you that he expects you to serve
his lady and you must make yourself presentable.”

Griselda was more outraged than Elspeth, if
possible. “Our lady to serve as maid to that Norman whore!” She
turned to look at Elspeth. “I told you, my lady! You should have
told him who you are and demanded that you be treated according to
your station!”

Elspeth flushed angrily. “He said that I was
to make myself presentable!” she demanded furiously. It was
insulting, even though she was obliged to admit that she was a
disreputable creature, as bad or worse than the lowest scullery
maid. It was hardly her fault, however, that she dared not even
allow herself the comfort of decent grooming for fear that Renard
would assault her yet again.

“
Nay! He did not say that.
He said only that he had need of a woman to serve his lady. I
thought it would be easier for you, my lady! He asked me about you
and I told him that you had been maid to the old lord’s daughter.…
I could think of nothing else to say once he had remarked that you
did not seem to be a common peasant.” He stopped, blushing
furiously. “And I know that you have tried to hide yourself among
the servants and have no wish to draw attention to yourself, but
you cannot expect to be accepted as lady’s maid when you…. It is
not at all a wise idea to challenge him by appearing….”

“
Like a filthy Saxon
peasant?” Elspeth finished for him.

“
She is too good to serve
such a one as that devil’s whore, even if she looked like a swine
maiden … which she most assuredly does not!”

Elspeth glanced at Griselda uncomfortably.
In truth, she could pass for one now and it irked her no end that
she must go about soiled and untidy, wearing nothing but the mended
rags that remained from the gown Renard had torn from her when she
had struggled with him.

“
You should have thought of
something else to tell him. I will not suffer being mauled by that
pig of a brother of his!”

Jean frowned. “You have no protection here.
If he decides to seek you out, you will be at his mercy. At least
if you serve his lady, you will have some protection. You would
sleep on a pallet in her room to be close for her call. Renard
would not dare to enter there--and you would spend your days in her
company.”

Elspeth studied him, wavering. As repugnant
as the idea was of serving as maid in her own home, it was surely
no worse than serving as a lower servant in her own home, and she
couldn’t deny that the lure of protection was nigh
irresistible.

Jean mangled his hat nervously. “I don’t
think Lord Arnaud would take a rejection kindly, lady.”

Elspeth’s lips tightened, but she was not
such a fool as to think that she could defy the new lord with
impunity. Finally, she nodded. “When am I to present myself?”