Gem of Gravane (The Northern Knights) (2 page)

Evil shone in his eyes and he was
not alone. One of his men stood beside him.

 Edie entered, making a wide
berth to reach her side.  Danielle reached behind her and held her maid’s
hand in hers; her skirt hid the gesture from her cousin.  Her maid’s
loyalty and support were a gift and Danielle was glad she could share things
with her.

Thomas laughed as his eyes raked
over them. Danielle cringed. He was up to something.  He snapped his
bejeweled fingers and a scrawny servant, a lad of no more than ten, rushed in
with a tray that held a decanter and goblets.   

“Do you deign a quick toast before
your knight in shining armor arrives, dear cousin?” His hatred dripped from
every word.

It looked like he’d had one too
many already, Danielle thought. She would not fall for whatever new game he was
playing so she remained silent.

He laughed. “Suit yourself then.
Get over here, boy.”

The boy shot a look in her
direction and Danielle nodded for him to be quick. Thomas was too focused on
his gluttony of fine things that he missed the exchange and she was glad.

The silence was long as he poured
himself a drink and drank it down. Wine ran down his chin and she felt sick at
the sounds he made as he finished.  He waved the boy away with irritation
as he wiped his mouth free and clean before the wine stained it.  The loud
belch that followed gave her the chance to shoo the boy from the room. 
Another one unscathed and Danielle let out a tight breath.

“Well now. Look at you.  Your
Norman Knight is but a moment from crashing through the gate and you still have
not changed into something more suitable or at least…more appealing?  I’m
not even sure that would be possible or make that much of a difference. Yet, we
must be on our best behavior for these heathen Normans.”

He grimaced, looking uglier than he
already was, if that was possible, Danielle thought. He threw his head back
with a loud sniff as though he’d just smelled something foul. Danielle held her
laugh.

The only foul scent in the room was
his own. His smell and nasal tone disgusted her as did his too snug attire and
colorful tunics. The thick curl of hair that fell over his brow, he was too
vain, she guessed to cut, made his pinched face that much worse. He looked like
a strutting peacock.  No one ever commented for fear of
his vicious temper.

Danielle bit her lip to stop the
tremors, not from fear, but anger.  She was dressed appropriately.
 She had made and fashioned the gown herself and although it was not of
the finest cut of cloth from which Thomas and his sister donned, she was still
proud of her creation.  It was, after all the best she could do with what
little she allotted herself to spend whilst Thomas spent lavishly on
himself and Rose from her dowry.

This too would soon stop upon her
marriage and she could not help but smile as she cleared her throat. “There is
naught wrong with this gown, Thomas. Besides ‘tis all the fabric I was able to
steal away from the paltry scraps left behind by your sister. ‘Tis quite
presentable in which to meet this would be husband that I do not want.” 
 She did tremble then at her bold-faced lie. 

In truth, although she was angry
and somewhat bitter over being forgotten by this man she’d yet to meet, a part
of her was glad he had finally arrived. 

A knight to whisk away all their
troubles would be the answer to their problems. Foolish thinking she’d readily
admit, but she still clung to it.

She knew nothing of this Norman
warrior other than that he was among William’s highly favored knights.
 Upon marriage to her he would be lord over the vast estates of her
ancestors and all within.  Including
her
. 

A chill settled over her at that
and Danielle silently blessed herself for strength. She could get through this.
After all he was just a man. 

A man she hoped might be a good
man, even if he was Norman. 

Her cousin’s nasal voice drew her
from her wandering thoughts. “Tone, dear cousin, tone.  ‘Twould seem you
are deliberately trying to bate me. And I know you wouldn’t want to do that
with your knight in shining armor so near, now would you?”    

Danielle wanted to scratch his eyes
out.

Instead she made to walk past him
and let out a shriek when his hand snaked out and grabbed her by the scruff of
her dress.  He shoved Edie away from her side and Danielle knew what she
had to do and she let out a small whimper. 

Thomas’s shrill filled the chamber
as he shook her. “You look like a peasant cow!” He called out loudly over
his shoulder. “Rose!”

Danielle sent Edie a warning look
to remain back for the guard that had entered with her cousin was eyeing her
maid with eagerness to strike.  Edie backed away, but her anger was
written all over her face.  Danielle could deal with Thomas, he would bore
of his sport of her soon enough. No reason to have her maid suffer his hands as
well. 

Danielle struggled against his hold
and after a moment, he released the neck of her kirtle and shoved her away from
him hard. Danielle caught her footing and from the look in his eyes, she knew
the bastard was upset that she’d not fallen. Thomas waved an exasperated hand
of dismissal in her direction and straightened his clothing before calling out
again for his sister.

Danielle fumed. Her being dressed
like a servant never bothered him before. She could feel his beady eyes upon
her as she gave him her back and walked away lest he see the anger seething
within her. She smoothed down the rumpled collar of her gown.

“Rose was to have given you one of
her gowns was she not?”  His voice was starting to get that feminine lilt
in it, which was a sign he was near rage and but moments away from striking
her.  

Danielle turned and saw that he now
stood just a few paces behind her.  He halted when she faced him.
 She saw the redness coloring his neck.  As always, he struck his
heavy blows from behind like the coward he was.

Rose bounded into the room in a
flurry of emerald and blonde curls and Danielle let out a shaky breath. The
malice in her cousin’s eyes met her gaze briefly before Rose pouted and pressed
herself against her brother’s side, clutching his forearm.  

“I had no gown that would fit her.
Please forgive me, brother. Hilda tried to let out my blue one, but even she
agreed that there was not enough material to cover Danielle’s girth.  Is
it my fault that she is so…so…large? Besides, no matter what she wears, her
betrothed upon seeing her will hardly notice, because he will be looking
anywhere but at our dear and
old
cousin, Danielle.”  

Brother and sister burst into
hearty giggles.

Danielle ignored their painful
insult.  Yea, she was considered a spinster at twenty three summers and
needed no one to remind her of it. No good ever came out of their mouths when
it came to her.  Hilda, Rose’s maid had come to Gravane the same day
Thomas had brought Rose here and Danielle disliked her just as much.  
All three of them did not belong under her roof.  But, she had no say in
the matter, as Thomas had been mean to her long before her father’s death and
her father had allowed it.   

But, now, Danielle smoothed a hand
over her middle, was not the time to think about that. A part of her hoped
that what Rose had said about her betrothed was untrue.  Even if he did
not find her attractive, he’d been ordered by the king to make the union. 

‘Twas to his benefit and
hers.  She wanted children and would give him that as long as he gave her
freedom, had a bit of kindness in him and kept her people safe. 

Danielle exhaled as her squawking
cousins’ voices brought her back to the matter at hand.   “Since my
dress matters not, should we not keep our guests waiting any longer?” 
 She swallowed the lump in her throat.  It could be no worse meeting
the Norman than it was to remain in this room with these two imbeciles.

Perhaps her betrothed would not
want her and she would not have to worry about him either and be free. Then her
heart sunk, she would never be free with her cousins around. So she did need to
marry this man.  She prayed again that he’d a bone of decency within him
to be the savior they so desperately needed. 

Thomas took his time in responding,
that sneer he wore like a mask never left his face as he beckoned her
forward. “Come, your new
master
waits.  From the sounds coming
up from the hall, it appears the heathen barbarians have made their way
inside.  Make haste.” 

Danielle checked the gold rope tied
around her waist, it rode low on her hips, over her slightly curved belly and
ended in a knot on her left hip.  The gold rope matched the gold trim
around the neck of her kirtle.   Edie had said the color of the gown
enhanced her skin.  Her brown waist length hair was pulled away from her
face in a long braid down her back and ended just below her bottom. 
 Edie had helped her make a crown of greens and matching flowers from her
garden to wear as a headdress to keep her bangs away from her face. Danielle
knew she was not a beauty nor did she possess the comely or alluring
beauty like Rose of fair skin and blonde hair. 

No, she had her mother’s coloring
and was almost as tall as Thomas. Tears stung her eyes anew at the thought of
her dead mother and she lifted her head high and moved past the two out into
the hall. 

Thomas’s hard grip on her arm
caused her to cry out in surprise. She had not seen the move coming.  His
bony fingers dug painfully into the soft flesh under her arm.  Her maid’s
gasp could be heard from inside the chamber.  Thomas gave her a shake hard
enough to rattle the teeth in her head.  A wave of dizziness washed over
Danielle as his rotten breath swept over her face. 

“Nay, dear cousin.  Rose and I
will descend with you behind.  Your betrothed may be a Norman warrior, but
even
he
deserves to be prepared before we present you to him.”  He
laughed.  “And Danielle, I feel I do not have to remind you to hold your
tongue and behave in front of our guests.” 

Danielle managed a nod or so she
thought for red filled her vision as the evil duo glided past her.  After
a moment, she followed, incensed and descended the stone steps down to the new
hell awaiting her. 

 
Chapter 2

Aric sighed with exasperation for
the hundredth time, wanting nothing more than to find a chamber, a warm bed and
to rest his weary bones. He had ridden his men hard over the past few nights
with little rest and the strain of it was evident on their haggard and bearded
faces.  Half of his men filled the great hall.  They had been greeted
at the door by an aged servant and led through to the hall.  Of what he’d
viewed from the door to the hall, pleased him thus far.  It was
surprisingly cleaner than he’d expected.  Tastefully decorated, fine
tapestries covered the walls, mostly clean rushes littered the stone floor, and
two tall hearths were in the main hall, one near the entrance and the larger
one, made of big stones sat directly behind the lord’s chair on the raised
dais. Where he currently sat and continued to wait for what seemed forever for
the hosts of the manor to make an appearance. 

He was close to boiling with rage
at the blatant insult of their delayed greeting.  He would soon change
that lack of respect.

He wiped a large hand down over his
face and light beard.  It was beginning to itch.  He could not wait
to shave his face clean and to soak in a tub would be a gift.  He was
quite dirty and cared not that he had to meet his bride in such a wet and muddy
fashion.  What did he care what the woman thought? ‘Twas not a marriage
based on love. Just a simple business transaction. The way of the times. 

Rivulets of rain still sluiced down
behind his ears and back. He and his men were from top to bottom soaked
through.  He just wanted the greet and meet behind him already so he could
relieve his men and climb into a warm bed for the night. 

There would be plenty enough time
on the morrow to see and share appropriate words with his betrothed when
he took her to wife, and to show the people here that he was, whether they
liked it or not, their new lord.  For those that did not wish to swear
loyalty, they would be asked to leave all the same or face other consequences.

“Balwain, this young Saxon lad and
my betrothed need a lesson or two in what it means to keep their new lord
waiting.  Do you not agree?” He slid a sidelong glance to his left,
where Balwain was seated.

Balwain nodded in agreement.
“Aye, I agree.  The lady’s cousin, from what we are
told is quite the soft one.  You think he will reveal his greed for
Gravane lands?  It is said ‘tis your betrothed that runs this manor and
whom makes it so plentiful.”

“Aye, so it is said.”  Aric
thought of the few men he’d sent on ahead to keep a watchful eye on things
before his arrival. “Soon enough all will reveal itself.”  

William had discussed his
betrothed’s cousin at length.  Aric already had a plan in motion to
address that matter, later.  Now, his gaze swept back to the hall’s
entrance, he would deal with meeting his bride.  He said, “Balwain,
my friend, the inhabitants of Gravane Manor have finally arrived.” 

Aric’s scowl darkened.  The
man entering the hall was indeed quite the pansy. He had seen better fare
on troubadours than the linens this peacock was fully draped in.  His
delicate features confirmed all Aric needed to know.  He dropped his gaze
to the blonde on the man’s arm and inhaled sharply.  

He now understood why whenever he
had inquired about the look of his future bride from the spies sent forth, a
description was never given.  The messengers had been nervous, almost
fidgety for fear of saying the wrong thing and chancing insult to their lord’s
bride, no doubt.  All that had been said was she was quite a sight to
behold.