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Authors: Anne Herries

BOOK: Hostage Bride
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A toast was proposed to her health and the men rose to raise their cups but the cheer was forced and muted. A cold finger trailed down her spine as she saw something new in the faces of the servants: fear.

Why were the servants afraid? She had seen nothing but pleasure in the return of their lord from the Holy Land before this. Now it seemed as if they felt that a dark shadow hung over them, as if they waited for something to happen. What had happened to change things in an instant?

‘Something is wrong,’ she said and touched Raphael’s arm. ‘This should be a joyous occasion but the men and the servants—they are uneasy.’

Raphael frowned. ‘I did not wish you to know. As you say, this should be a joyous occasion, but Sir Edmund had to be punished. I had to make an example.’

Rosamunde stared at him, feeling suddenly chilled. ‘You punished him…how?’ she whispered.

‘He was tried by his peers and received the lawful punishment,’ he said evasively.

‘Tell me, please.’ Her nails curled into the palms of her hands.

Raphael’s lips were tightly compressed as he met her gaze. ‘He was condemned to hang and the punishment has been carried out.’

‘No!’ Rosamunde gasped, shocked and distressed.

‘Surely you could have just banished him for life? Hanging is so cruel.’

Raphael’s gaze hardened. ‘Do not speak of what you do not understand, lady. Sir Edmund was a thief and much worse. Have you no idea of what he planned for you? While he lived, your life would have been in constant danger. His punishment was a warning to others. I protect what is mine.’

Rosamunde felt the gorge rise in her throat. She was simply Raphael’s property, like his silver and gold. Her pleasure in the occasion was entirely lost; she could neither eat nor drink for the food would taste of ashes.

‘Excuse me, my lord,’ she said and rose from the table. ‘I—I have a headache and must go to my chamber.’

She walked swiftly from the hall and, when she had left it, ran up to her chamber. Her chest felt tight and she wanted to weep for something precious that had been taken from her. How could he do such a thing on this day of all days? Had it meant anything to him at all, he would have shown leniency to Sir Edmund.

‘Rosamunde!’ The door of her chamber was thrown back and Raphael entered. He was frowning fiercely, his mouth set in a grim line. ‘Why did you leave like that? The men will think it strange that you take no part in the feasting.’

‘Tell them I am unwell.’ She turned away from him, fighting her tears. Her chest felt tight and she could scarce breathe for her distress. ‘I cannot eat. It would make me vomit.’

‘You are angry because of what has happened. Believe me, it was not by my desire this was done. I am recently returned from the Crusades, Rosamunde. Sir Edmund robbed me; he planned to kill me and abduct you. He
had
to be punished severely. If I had only banished him, it would have looked as if I were weak. In my position I have to be strong so that my men understand they must keep my law,’ Raphael explained, one hand held out to her as though entreating her to understand.

‘Your
father
was a strong man—would you have the people fear you as they feared him? Surely it takes more courage to show mercy than to lash out in revenge?’ Rosamunde said pointedly.

Raphael recoiled as if she had struck him, a nerve flickering at his temple. ‘My father did things of which I am ashamed. I have neither ravished an innocent woman nor killed a man in anger. Sir Edmund received a fair trial and the judgment of his peers.’

‘You kept me here when I wished to return to my father.’ She slung the accusation back at him, her head high, manner haughty.

‘For your own sake,’ he ground out, his hands now clenched by his sides. ‘Surely what happened here showed you the danger you stand in, Rosamunde? You had no one to protect you. Now you are my betrothed and the men know what will happen to them if they try to take you from me. It is the only way to keep you safe.’

‘You did that horrible thing for
my
sake?’ She put her
hands to her face in distress. ‘I would not have had it so. Had you asked me, I would have shown clemency.’

‘You are but a woman and have a woman’s weakness,’ he said harshly. ‘Come down and join in the feasting. Let my men see that you are pleased to be my betrothed.’

‘I cannot smile when I feel so shamed,’ she refused hotly. ‘You are as bad as the man you condemned to a cruel death. I thought you different, above such petty vengeance—but you are not the man I thought you.’

Raphael was silent for a moment, then said, ‘Very well, I shall tell the men you are unwell. I am leaving in an hour; it may be many weeks before I return. When I do, I shall take you home.’

‘But we are betrothed…’ she breathed shakily.

‘I dare say a way may be found to break the vows we took,’ he said coolly. ‘You will remain here until I return and then we shall see what can be done to set us both free from an unwelcome bond.’

With that, he turned and left her. Rosamunde stared after him in despair and then sank to her knees as the tears began to fall.

‘No,’ she whispered, heartbroken, as she covered her face with her hands. ‘I did not mean that—I do not wish to break the vows we took.’

How easily he had agreed to part from her. She was right to think that she was not important to him. He would have wed her had she been meek and acquiesced to his will, but now he would send her away.

It was her own fault for defying him. She had quarrelled
with him once too often and he no longer found her desirable. He wanted to break his betrothal vows. They had meant nothing to him.

Chapter Eight

R
aphael did not look back as he rode out of the castle with six of his most trusted men at his back. He was angry because Rosamunde had questioned his actions in the matter of Sir Edmund. Damn the woman, had she no idea of what kind of a villain he’d been? Faced by a jury of his peers, Roth had confessed to the crimes he’d committed—not only those she knew of but also many others committed in the late Lord Mornay’s name. He was a thief, rapist and murderer, and had remained unrepentant even when he was taken to be hanged. He had died with a curse on his lips.

The whole incident had left a bad taste in Raphael’s mouth. He knew that he had done what was expected of him and no more than was justice under the laws of England. Sir Edmund had thoroughly deserved to be punished. Even had he never tried to abduct Rosamunde, he would still have been given a severe penalty,

but she had chosen to feel his death as a stain on her own conscience and there was nothing Raphael could say or do that would ease her burden. God knows, he had felt sick to his stomach as he’d given the order to execute a fellow knight. It was something he would have avoided had it been at all possible, but in this case there were no mitigating circumstances, nothing to excuse the behaviour of a knight whose crimes would sicken any decent man.

He’d had no choice.
Raphael forced the shadow from his mind. He was a just man and punished transgressions as lightly as possible, but there were times when there was no alternative. Rosamunde had showed her disgust of him plainly. If she had felt more for him than a passing fancy he had surely killed it. He should have sent her straight back to her cousin with the ransom and forgotten her.

Caring made a man weak. Raphael knew that the struggle for England was only just beginning. Prince John would not give up the power he had abused lightly and, if he could, would see his brother dead rather than restored to the throne.

Raphael had heard of men who felt as he did, that every effort must be made to bring Richard back before it was too late. He could not be swayed from his task by the reproachful look in
her
beautiful eyes.

* * *

Raphael had left the castle. Rosamunde’s throat tightened as Maire brought her the news. Until the last moment she’d hoped that he might return and take her
in his arms. It was her fault they’d parted on bad terms. She knew that she’d said terrible things to him; she had regretted them almost as soon as they had left her lips. Raphael was
not
like his father and she knew it. It had just been such a shock to her that he could order the execution on a day that was meant to be joyous. Also, the fact that Sir Edmund had been hanged because of what he’d done to her made her feel guilty, as if in some way she’d caused his death.

After a restless night, Rosamunde rose and went down to the courtyard. She saw that some of the men were already training; the craftsmen were at their benches intent on their work, and the servants were carrying water and baskets of food up to the men on the ramparts. It seemed that life went on as usual now that Raphael was gone, except that her heart felt as if it had been torn apart.

‘My lady, I hope you are feeling better this morning?’

Rosamunde turned to see Sir Jonathan watching her. He looked concerned, as if he understood her distress.

‘Good morning, sir. Thank you, I feel a little better. I wanted some air,’ she told him.

‘Perhaps we could ride together later? We might take the hawks out if it would give you pleasure. Raphael charged me to take good care of you, lady. If there is aught you need, you have only to ask,’ he said.

‘You are very kind, sir. I think I should like to go foraging with my ladies, if you will arrange an escort. I would see what more the woods and hedgerows have
to offer for the stillroom. I have noticed that some of the men have small ailments that I might cure. Once I have the recipes made, I will hear their complaints in the hall.’

Rosamunde knew that she needed to keep busy. Raphael might be away for some weeks and unless she could find some occupation she would not be able to bear it. She must do what she could to fill the shelves with preserves, make cures for simple ailments and see that sufficient meat was salted for the winter. It was the kind of work that would have filled her time had she been at home with her father—so why did the future suddenly seem empty and bleak?

She could not hide from herself. Her heart had been given to Raphael for some time now, perhaps from the very first night when he had kissed her and her body had gone weak with longing. Of course, she had loved him when she had been but a child, and her memory of him had remained bright. He had been a chivalrous youth then. Now he was a battle-hardened man and in her heart she knew he’d had no choice but to administer the punishment to Sir Edmund that his men had demanded.

Why had she been foolish enough to quarrel with him? She had let him go believing that she cared nothing for him when all the time her heart was breaking for love of him. Looking up, she saw an expression of understanding in Sir Jonathan’s eyes.

‘I shall arrange a foraging trip for you,’ he said, his gaze narrowed, thoughtful. ‘You should not blame
Raphael for what was done, my lady. Sir Edmund confessed to his many heinous crimes but he did not repent at all; rather he bragged of them and went defiantly to meet his maker.’

‘I know that the punishment meted out to him was just,’ Rosamunde admitted. ‘But that a man should die because of me…’ She shuddered. ‘I would not have had it happen so.’

‘It was wrong of Sir Edmund to try to abduct you and to rob his lord, but he also tried to stab Raphael to death—and he admitted to other crimes of murder and theft against the people. Raphael had no choice but to punish him according to the law,’ Jonathan revealed.

‘Yes, I see that now,’ Rosamunde said. She smothered a little sob. ‘I accused my lord of terrible things. Do you think he will forgive me?’

‘In time the hurt will ease,’ Jonathan said. ‘Raphael has suffered much. The death of his wife haunted him for months, because he blamed himself for leaving her the night she was killed. When you came here those who love him felt that perhaps he would learn to be happy again. We still hope for it, lady.’

‘He was very angry when he left here,’ she whispered.

‘Yes, he was angry. Your accusations wounded him. Do not imagine it was easy for him to give the order for Sir Edmund’s execution. He is a fair man, and merciful whenever it is possible.’

‘I should have understood that,’ Rosamunde said.

She hesitated, then asked, ‘Do you know how long he intends to be away?’

‘I believe he travels to the north to speak with important men. I cannot tell you how long his business will take, lady. I would say several weeks at least. It is November now and I shall be surprised if he returns much before Christ’s Mass—though I am certain he will return to spend that joyous festival with us if he can.’

Rosamunde swallowed hard. It seemed she must wait at least seven weeks or more before she saw Raphael again. For a moment she considered asking Sir Jonathan to take her home, but then she realised that if she left now she might never see the man she loved again—and that was more than she could bear. She must wait in patience for his return and in the meantime she would work hard to fill her days.

‘Thank you. I must not keep you from your work. I shall instruct my ladies that we go foraging. If you will arrange the escort for after we have broken our fast I should be grateful,’ Rosamunde said and then walked away, her eyes stinging with tears which she refused to allow to fall.

* * *

‘Why have you come to me?’ Baron Sigmund’s gaze narrowed as he looked at the knight who had arrived alone and looked as if he had not slept in days. ‘Why have you deserted Lord Mornay?’

‘It was Sir Edmund’s idea that we should offer our swords to you, my lord. He tired of the new Lord Mornay’s dictates and wanted the old ways again. The new
lord is not popular with his men and they think him a tyrant. We spoke against him and he ordered our arrest. We decided to leave his service, and Sir Edmund planned to bring you a gift that would please you, but I fear that his plans went awry. I waited in the woods to meet him as we agreed, but he did not come. I fear he was discovered and may be imprisoned or dead,’ Sir Ian said.

‘Sir Edmund is dead?’ Baron Sigmund frowned. ‘What did he do to arouse Mornay’s wrath? And what was the gift he planned to bring me?’

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