Chelynne (18 page)

“I, being your most humble servant, madam, will gift you with this parcel, if she be to your liking.”

“Nay, my lord, it will be a purchase fair and good. I would have it no other way. Expect a courier in a few days. Does the child have a name?”

“Aye, Tanya, but she’ll not answer to it. You’ve got yourself a problem with this baggage, madam, and you’ll see it soon enough. No doubt you’ll be begging me to take her back soon.”

“I doubt that, sir. I’m sure the child will respond to some kindness and do me honor in my home.”

“You would use this mangy beast in your home?” he choked. “Why, she’s not fit to empty slops.”

“My wife will use her where she will,” came a slow and steady voice.

Chelynne had been completely unaware of her husband’s presence. She had no idea how long he had been there or how much he might have heard.

“And now, my lord, what was that sum?” Chad asked slowly and confidently. “I believe this is the correct amount,” he went on without benefit of an answer, placing coins in the baron’s hand. “I’ll expect the papers delivered posthaste. See it done. Good day.”

Shayburn had not the gall to count the coin, for the argument was so pathetically lost. Chelynne went quickly ahead to the carriage, Stella plodding along behind with the young girl.

It wasn’t until they were on their way that Chelynne began to tremble. She had never spoken so to anybody, especially not a man of importance in a town of this size. It was as if she were seized by a spirit taking the part of her tongue. The plight of the girl left her without reason. Anger led her where her senses had failed.

Stella fussed over the trembling girl beside her, soothing and crooning to her as one would a babe. Chelynne hoped to get home quickly, avoiding discussion of this incident. But Chad was not so inclined.

“What possessed you to do this thing?”

“He’s used her so badly, Chad,” she said softly, her voice quivering from the upset. “She’s just a child and already he’s used her. He’s bedded her.”

“And if she’s with child?”

Chelynne gasped at the thought. “It might kill her to bear a child. She’s only a child herself.” She shuddered.

“The baron might be right. You might have bought more trouble than you know.”

“What would you have me do?”

“You could have brought the matter to my attention. I am capable of handling some situations without a presumptuous wife to act in my stead. As it was, you’ve brought the question of the man’s integrity to the entire town. The treatment of his serv—um, people, does not concern you.”

“But this is scandalous,” she argued boldly. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep had I left her with that beast, knowing how he abuses her.”

“Then the proper course would be to bring the matter to me and let me attend to it.”

“But you took my part,” she said pleadingly.

“The immediate situation warranted that I take a part and my choice left me to take the part of my wife or a neighboring baron. I hope not to meet that fork in the road another time. Do you understand?”

Chelynne frowned openly. This marriage and her new position had turned into a confusing game, heavily laden with rules she did not understand. “In the name of charity—”

“In the name of charity I shall find myself penniless from your sympathy and my back broken from doing yeoman chores. Your position is not that of patron saint to these people. School yourself in the behavior of the part you play here and do not cause me much undue hardship as you do battle for fairness to poor unfortunates.”

She looked away, much upset with his reprimand. He sat across from her, his arms folded over his broad chest, trying not to smile. She had surprised him once again with something he hadn’t expected. This sense of justice and quick action amazed him. But women, he reminded himself, were impractical beyond good sense, ever seeking to lick available wounds. He grunted.

“How did you propose to pay the baron?”

“I was allotted a household budget for myself and my women,” she replied quietly.

“Then you will debit from the balance one hundred and fifty pound. Examine your ledgers carefully before seeing to any other unnecessary purchases.”

“Yes, sir,” she said meekly.

Chad’s eyes fell to the young girl in Stella’s protective embrace. The poor little thing stared blankly ahead, her eyes holding only a small bit of the light of sanity. His contempt for the baron doubled, if that were possible. But to have Shayburn sense his ill will would do him no good. He needed to be on reasonable terms with the man. He set his mind to the distasteful task of writing a note of some apology for Chelynne’s impetuous behavior, hoping to stay the man’s temper a bit.

“I’m sorry I’ve angered you,” she said quietly.

“The baron is the law of that shire, Chelynne,” he carefully explained. “He treats the people there harshly, but backs his justice with much coin and influence. He has successfully concealed any injustice while adding to his wealth with illicit business. And there are those of wealth and title who do likewise and would vouch for him. There is no band thicker than thieves. For the sake of those people who serve him, do not make the man look like a fool. He would likely rear up in anger and abuse ten for every one you save.”

“How can he do this?”

“Because,” he said simply, “there seems to be no way to stop him.”

“At least one is safe,” she murmured, glancing at Tanya.

“I do not wish to have every reprobate housed with me, Chelynne. Stifle your tender heart some small bit or you will find yourself devoid of funds.”

“Yes, sir,” came the meek reply.

The nights of late summer were clear and cool, the only hint that the heat would give way to a biting chill. A heavy wool coat against a man’s back would bring comfort now, but in a month’s time it would barely be enough to keep out the damp, cold wind.

John Robert Bollering rode slowly, though the moon was bright enough to light his way easily across the countryside. The horse was a fine mount from the Hawthorne stables and John had been his master long enough to be assured of a good performance from the beast. He would make his journey to Bratonshire from his hidden dwelling on Hawthorne land many times in the coming months, and always at night.

He paused at the top of a rounded knoll to view this village lying so peacefully against the beautiful English countryside. This was his father’s land. These were his father’s people. John had seen his father lose his lands and then his life as he fought for the king’s cause. The king was beheaded and England was at war with itself. John had fled England to fight with the Royalists while still a youth.

When Charles II was restored to the throne John felt England calling him home. He found that his mother had died during the sovereign’s long exile and the Bollering children still living had settled themselves in marriages and businesses. The safest and surest thing to do was to ask King Charles for a grant of land in Virginia and begin to rebuild his dream. But instead he went to Bratonshire.

There he found the burgh mismanaged and the people afraid and abused. What he had known to be a fruitful and happy place was a mere shadow of its former worth. The villagers were poorly fit while the baron’s purse grew heavy and the fields and keeps flourished with crops and livestock. He knew then that vengeance was his goal and that he must find a way to right that old wrong.

John spent the next five years building his wealth and hoarding his gold with a miser’s zeal. A year before Chad would return home permanently, these two longtime friends staged a falling out that convinced all associated with them that the friendship was over and they could not be reconciled. Chad was helpful in seeing that those rumors reached Bratonshire. And while John served His Majesty faithfully and well within the confines of the law, another convenient lie was circulated: John had turned pirate and thief and would not dare set foot on English soil again.

John’s presence in the country now was secret, for the time was ripe. He planned to strip Shayburn of that land in the same ruthless way his father had been beaten. This time, however, he would gain the confidence of some courageous villagers who would aid him with his work.

With a few men from his ship and a few of Chad’s men-at-arms, John was setting out to cripple Bratonshire. There would be murder, destruction, thievery and rape. But it would be a play for the baron. Those robbed would have their possessions returned, those thought dead would actually be spirited away, and whatever was destroyed John would promise to rebuild when the land was his.

Shayburn had a mean troop of men he called guards to do his bidding and deal out his punishments, but for himself he was a coward. It would not be long before he requested aid in protecting his lands. The most likely one to be asked was the earl of Bryant. If all went as planned, Shayburn wouldn’t know until it was too late who had attacked him. He would lose his battle before he could fight it.

Tonight John would visit a man whose help he needed to see his ends met. As did every village, Bratonshire had one humble citizen who was held in the highest esteem by his fellow villagers. This man was Talbot Rath, a large man, not awesome or powerful looking, but still larger in size than most of the men in this town. He had a good sense of reason and justice; many times with finesse and diplomacy he softened Shayburn’s blows against the people. John had known him for years. The people in this shire would follow Rath.

It was Rath that John was on his way to see. Night after night they met in Rath’s house and John heard stories of the baron’s abuses and injustices. Gossip of the lord’s illegal business interests and tales of the company he kept filtered down into this little hut. Rath knew every guard, every guard’s house and every inch of this community. He knew the amounts collected for rents, taxes and tithes, all more than they should be.

The first attack against the baron would be easy, if Rath had obtained the confidence of his friends. Carts would be overturned and burned, houses would flame, many precious things would be stolen, and at least one badly bruised woman would scream that she had been brutally raped. The entire village would be in chaos. There would even be murder done if it could be contrived without actual loss of life.

Soon after his arrival, John anxiously asked Rath, “Have you talked to your neighbors?”

“Aye. Tess!” he called. “Bring our friend a drink.” Turning back to John he spoke low. “There are those who remember your father, but now they age. It’s best to go with the young men and hope they believe that times will be better for their cooperation. For most the promise of lower taxes and rents would be enough.”

John’s eyes wavered away from the conversation to watch as a young maid brought him a cold drink. She kept her eyes cast down until reaching in front of him to offer it. In taking it he briefly touched her hand. She let the touch linger as she dared, meeting his eyes for the merest second, then lowering hers again and hurrying away. John quietly thanked her as she fled.

“I’ve not told them yet who comes to us with this promise of salvation, but neither do they ask. They know well enough it could be twisted out of the strongest man. But don’t doubt they’re bound to find out, John. Your face is not unlike your father’s and in time you’ll be recognized.”

“To keep it from Shayburn is the only thing,” John returned. “To keep it from him until he’s weakened some small bit...then...then I’ll war with him openly and not feel the bite.”

John’s eyes roved from Rath to the young maid as she busied herself around the room so that she could be near enough to hear part of the plotting. Rath looked between the young swain and his daughter and sighed. “Draw up a stool, child, so John can concentrate on my words.”

Happily, the girl took her seat. John gave a smile and, remarkably, a slight blush at having been so obvious in admiring her. “She grows beautiful, Rath,” he remarked earnestly.

“Aye, as her mother was. I’ve gained now ten families in my confidence and I would trust any one of them with my life. It could start there and more would be drawn in with us. When they learn it’s a play and no real threat, aye, they’ll be glad to follow the plan then.”

“Never that, Rath. It’s a play right enough, but never let these poor bastards think there’s no real danger. When Shayburn’s anger is stirred he’ll be a hard man to abide.”

“I’ll not lull them with talk of ease, lad. But if they look to the light at the end of the darkness they’ll have more cause to stand hard.”

“They’ve got to know the truth from the start, that it could all come to naught! There can be no other thinking or they’ll crack when they’re afraid. Tell them from the first, Rath. There could well be deaths before this is out. I can’t lead a troop of fancied bandits looking for a play or sure they’ll—”

“Not with Papa to give them a strong arm,” Tess broke in. It brought a quick smile to John’s lips to hear her strong defense of her father.

“She is your best friend,” John teased.

“Not always, lad. Do you think it’s a simple blessing to have one such as this prancing about? Aye, if she were a lad, ‘twould be a simple matter to see her will to lead them when I’ve gone, but a lass? Bah! I’ve naught but trouble keeping the besotted boys off the stoop. She spins their heads so it’s all I can do to see them lift a hoe or shoe a horse.”