The Saxon Bride (The Norman Conquest Series)
Read The Saxon Bride (The Norman Conquest Series) Online
Authors: Ashley York
The Saxon Bride
by
Ashley York
The Saxon Bride
Ashley York
Copyright © 2014, Ashley York
Edited by Scott Moreland
Cover Art by Rae Monet, Inc. Designs
All Rights Reserved. No part or the whole of this book may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted or utilized (other than for reading by the intended reader) in ANY form (now known or hereafter invented) without prior written permission by the author. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal, and punishable by law. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and or are used fictitiously and solely the product of the author's imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, places, businesses, events or locales is purely coincidental.
This book is dedicated to my very first reader, Kathleen. I will never be able to think of this story without remembering our Sunday afternoons at the Brewery with the wonderful sounds of Banish Misfortune surrounding us as we went through every chapter I brought you. What a sweetheart! Your words of encouragement carried me through to the end and your belief in me is more appreciated than you will ever know. Thank you, my dear friend. You are a blessing in my life I never saw coming.
I want to thank the HHRW Critters for their immeasurable help in bringing this story to print. You made my story even better. And thank you to my beta readers: Nicole Laverdure, Melba Solis-Zuniga, Deborah Trickey, and Merry Farmer. I also want to thank Rae Monet, Inc. Designs for the beautiful cover.
A very big thank you to my amazing editor Scott Moreland who charged in to save the day. I look forward to many more projects with you.
As always, my most important acknowledgment is to the love of my life, my husband of thirty five years. You are my hero - always.
Table of Contents
Essex, England 1071
A Norman. I have been given to a Norman to wife.
Rowena Godwinson, daughter of the late Earl of
Essex and the last living member of that powerful Saxon family, stood before her reflection in the polished brass. The wedding gown passed down through three generations of Godwin women before her, draped softly across the shoulders, skimming down her waist and falling over the tips of her deerskin slippers. She blinked back with vacant eyes.
Fear tripped up her spine and her stomach clenched. She had lived among the victors for nigh on five years now. Their disdain for her people was quite obvious. Now the man who had usurped her own uncle as rightful
king at the Battle of Hastings had ordered her to marry. With both parents dead, she was his ward.
Rowena clenched her teeth and turned to the window. She glimpsed the slate roof of the chapel beyond the trees
where the nuptials would take place this very day. Her family's chapel. Countless celebrations with uncles, close friends, and more cousins than she could name, had taken place there. Those were happy years.
"My lady?"
Rowena looked at the drawn face of her handmaiden, Joan. The blonde sheen of her hair, long gone with the stress of the circumstances and occupation they were all forced to live under.
"Yes?"
Joan gulped. "Do you think he will be kind to you? Tonight, I mean?"
Rowena's breath caught in her throat. The marriage bed. How would her husband treat her? With kindness? As her husband, he gained much by this union. A lot of responsibility, yes, but also power. Some men loved power
.
She tipped her chin up.
"I believe he will be kind as I will give him no reason not to be."
Joan's eyes rounded. Rowena smiled tightly.
"Fear not, Joan. I will be amicable."
"My lady, would that I could impart upon you my own knowledge, but I have none. Your mother's death before she prepared you leaves you in a bad way."
"Perhaps he will be a gentle man. John." His name was all she knew.
"Yes, my lady. He is one of William's most trusted knights."
"A warrior." Rowena's tone was flat and for an instant she saw again her father. Cold and dead. Blood all around. She forced the memory aside. "Then he will be a good protector."
"Yes, but of whom?"
Norman soldiers had been in the castle and beyond ever since. They had no need for Saxons. If they did have needs, they took what they wanted. When Rowena tried to voice her objections to such ill treatment, it fell on deaf ears.
"I will be by his side now. I will win him over to our cause." Despite her own misgivings, Rowena attempted to reassure her.
Joan sighed her relief. "Then we will pray you please him."
The knock on the door echoed in Rowena'
s chest. She nodded her consent. Joan opened the door to reveal a burly Norman soldier, his pointed helmet still in place on his head, its shield hiding his face.
"I've come for the Lady Rowena." His voice was muffled but understandable.
He pushed his way past Joan and grabbed Rowena's arm. She jerked away without thinking, and he shoved her back against the wall. Joan's shriek filled the small space. His pungent breath assailed her nostrils as he moved in close.
"Silence
!" He threw the command over his shoulder then focused his attention back on Rowena. His helmet dipped as his eyes took in every aspect of her body."I look forward to your joining with Lord John."
Rowena fought to control her outrage. And her fear.
"Do you know what Normans do with their lord's wives?" His voice was quiet, menacing.
She shook her head.
"The lord has first use but then he allows his most loyal soldiers a taste as well."
"What?" Rowena gasped. Why would any man treat
his wife so? He must be lying. "What if a child is begotten? How does he know it is his?"
The man threw back his head and laughed. She could see his dark eyes through the slit in the metal when he lowered his head to her. "Don't you know King William is a bastard? He believes it is better to father your heir with your mistress than your wife."
"But...but I heard he loves his Queen."
"Theirs was a marriage of love. Not by proclamation. And not to receive title to the lands."
Without warning, he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her through the doorway. Joan's shrill cries followed her down the hall. Three more soldiers came up alongside of them.
"Did you tell her?" one of them asked.
"She knows the way of it."
Rowena yanked against their firm grasp but they shoved her from behind. Along the road, the onlookers gawked at the treatment of the last Godwinson. She refused to hide her head in shame. In her attempt to keep her dignity, she stopped her struggling and fought to keep up with their long strides. Outside the chapel door, they
halted.
"And I look forward," the first guard ran his hand up her side, grabbing her breast as she struggled anew, "
my lady
, to getting a piece of you for myself."
Rowena spat at him. "Don't touch me
!" she screamed. The moisture dripped down his visor.
The man jerked the helmet off, his face a dark scowl.
"I'll do even more."
The guards all laughed but when they pushed the door open and she saw the dark
-haired man turn towards her, she groaned inwardly. Her new lord and master glowered at her. He had the face of any angel.
Oh, God, what will become of me?
§
The
musty smell of incense filled the windowless structure and threatened to suffocate Sir John of Normandy waiting before the altar. Despite his outward appearance of calm, John's insides were tightly wound, his nerves stretched as tight as an archer's bow. Armed guards dragged the struggling woman through the tall wooden doors toward him. John held his breath, his body strained in sympathy with the force of her effort.
"I will never marry that Norman scum
!" Rowena screamed, her voice shrieking back in echoes like a curse from the hard stone walls to the small, somber group standing between the unlikely couple. The Norman soldiers gathered as witnesses to the impromptu nuptials shifted uncomfortably. Understandably, they preferred not to look directly at the dark-haired Saxon woman, but toward their leader. John hoped he succeeded at appearing to wait patiently for his bride to be.
Damn.
Her silver eyes flashed as she jerked against the firm hands
. A shiver passed down his spine. She had her father's eyes. Those eyes haunted his dreams. When she spat on the ground, the guard raised his hand to her but John stepped forward, stopping him from slapping her for such a show of disrespect.
"
Enough
."
The scene did not sit well with him. Her body
was small and delicate beside his six-foot frame. She looked much younger than her sixteen years of age. Her attempts at resistance were futile, as had been his own. This marriage would take place. King William himself had ordered it. Her excess of stubbornness was another trait John remembered from her father, Earl Leofwine Godwinson. Common sense seemed a foreign concept to both father and daughter. Rather than accept defeat and come to terms, Leofwine had been determined to fight to the death.
And now five
years later, John recognized the same crazed look. Her eyes darting wildly around the tiny church like a trapped animal, desperately searching for escape. The king must be obeyed.
"Please, my lady." John spoke gently as he would to a wild mare.
Reaching toward her, he stopped short at the fury in those narrowed eyes.
She will kill me in my sleep.
John could see his death at her delicate hands. His life meant nothing to her. She would prefer him dead. His jaw clenched. There was not a chance in hell he could consummate this marriage.
With a guard on either side forcing her to stand and respond
, John of Normandy was wed to Rowena, orphaned daughter of the Saxon Earl of Kent, Essex, Middlesex, Hertford, Surrey and Buckinghamshire and ward of King William. John was now one of the most powerful men in England…and he had no desire for any of it.
After the exchange of vows and the blessing from the French bishop, an awkward silence was mercifully interrupted by the muffled jingling of the
hauberks worn by the dust-covered soldiers who entered the chapel.
"Lord John?"
Trying not to notice the woman who trembled beside him with her sobbing, John sighed in relief to see one of William's own messengers rushing toward him.
"Is there a problem?"
he asked.
The man handed John a letter. Quickly breaking King William's seal, John read the orders. A new battle had broken out to the north and the king needed reinforcements immediately. Although John's presence was not specifically requested, here was his chance to separate himself from his new bride. Breathing a sigh of relief, there was no reason to delay his departure. Pulling on his leather gloves, he turned away from the brown
-haired woman.
"Prepare yourselves. The
king needs your assistance," he ordered as he walked away without a word to her. He would live to see another day.
