Knight's Caress (16 page)

Tedric could barely breathe. What was William saying to him?

“Tedric, I want the good will of the Saxons. I ache to put an end to the violence which has thrown this land into chaos. If I had a man, a Saxon like yourself, in charge of Woodrose Keep, then I’d have one less area of the country to worry over. But I can only turn over Woodrose and the surrounding land to a man whom I can trust, a man who will pledge his allegiance to me. If you agree to throw down your weapons against me, I shall turn over Woodrose to you.”

“You jest, sire.”

“Non,
I do not take lightly this proposition.” William looked almost affronted. “Because you saved my life, and because you’re needed to restore peace here, I trust that you are the right man for such an undertaking. Do you not want control of Woodrose again?”

Tedric nodded, his mouth suddenly dry. “Of course.”

William smiled in smug satisfaction. “Then you cannot deny me.”

“All I must do is pledge my loyalty.”

“Yes, and mean it. Otherwise, I should be forced to come down very hard upon you and your family,” William warned.

Tedric gripped the wolf pelt tightly in his hands. “And that is all I am obliged to do?”

William grinned sheepishly. “Well, not quite.”

“Hah! I thought as much.” Tedric gave a derisive snort, not the least bit concerned that he might have offended the king. He hadn’t.

“You’re right to be suspicious, for only a foolish man would accept without thinking there might be another condition. And now I know you’re the right man for this undertaking.”

“What else must I do to reclaim my home? Must I wed Lady Julianne?” Tedric was joking, but suddenly a shiver slid like ice down his backbone for the king wasn’t laughing.

“You must wed but not the Lady Julianne,” William responded. “I order you to marry Lady Amberlie.”

“The woman hates me,” he ground out in disbelief and regret.

“Maybe, maybe not, but would you turn down my proposition because of a woman’s feelings? Not only would you reclaim your birthright, but you’d wed a beautiful young woman. Why care if she hates you? Amberlie shall make you a dutiful wife.”

“I can’t be certain she won’t knife me whilst I am sleeping, sire.”

William let out a huge guffaw. “Then your life shall not be dull!” The king quieted. “What say you, Tedric? Have I your allegiance?”

Tedric’s head swam with the implications of William’s proposition. If not for the imposed marriage to Amberlie de Fontaine, the arrangement would be near to heaven. But Amberlie was the main reason he hesitated. Could he live with the Norman wench, could he sleep with a woman who despised him, no matter how attracted he might be to her? If he agreed to William’s plan, Amberlie would go from being his enemy to being his wife. What would she think about all of this? he wondered. But William didn’t intend for her to have any say at all in the matter, so Tedric guessed that her own feelings were unimportant.

And what about Glenna? How would he explain things to her? Yet Glenna was a Saxon and she knew how precious Woodrose Keep was to him. He persuaded himself that Glenna would understand. As for Guy de Bayonne and Julianne, he didn’t even consider their feelings, because Tedric doubted that the villainous twosome ever felt true human emotions at all.

“Have I your word on this?” Tedric heard William softly ask him.

The moment was at hand. “Aye, sire, I pledge my allegiance. And I shall take Amberlie de Fontaine to wife.”

 
“Sire, please, you cannot be serious about this marriage. I hoped to marry but not … Tedric.” To even say Tedric’s name left a bitter taste in her mouth. What could the king be thinking? Was this a cruel hoax? Was he suffering from madness? Apparently not, for he seemed perfectly sane and wasn’t laughing as if in jest.

Amberlie stood beside William on the battlements. A brisk, cool breeze blew Amberlie’s mantle about her figure and ruffled her dark curls. She placed her hands upon the stone wall, and her troubled gaze swept the countryside that was carpeted before them in jewel shades of orange and yellow, interlaced with splashes of green. At the moment she couldn’t appreciate nature’s beauty. Never had she felt so forlorn and bereft, having no one to turn to, no person in whom to confide her fears about this strange alliance which the king wished her to make. He seemed not disturbed at all by her reaction. In fact, if she looked closely, she discerned a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“Would you rather I released you to Guy de Bayonne as a bride?” William asked, the ruby brooch on his red mantle sparkling in the sunshine. “Either way, Tedric shall regain Woodrose.”

It wasn’t Woodrose she worried over, but the horrible sin which would fall upon her soul to wed Henri’s murderer, to be the man’s wife. “Tedric is a barbarian, sire. His people’s customs are strange to me, their beliefs are heathenish. I remind you that he is responsible for my husband’s death. The man has agreed to marry me only to reclaim his lands, not because he burns for love of me. Surely, you recognize all of the reasons why I cannot marry him.”

“Then you choose de Bayonne as your husband?”

“I choose neither, sire.”

William held up his hands in supplication, a sad smile on his lips. “I’m sorry,
cherie,
but you will marry one of these men. I could force you to marry Tedric, but I think you should come to this decision on your own. He has agreed to marry you and protect you, as your father would have wished.”

“My father wouldn’t have wished for me to marry a barbarian!”

The king seriously contemplated her before speaking in the same tone of voice which her father had used with her many times when he was exasperated with her as a child. “Hmmm, but you’re wrong, Amberlie. This Tedric isn’t a barbarian, nor is he a heathen. True, his customs and upbringing are different from yours, but I trust you can train him to be a proper husband. After all, Henri was a perfect mate for you.”

“Henri was docile and sweet, not arrogant and filled with manly pride like Tedric.”

The king laughed shortly.
“Cherie,
it is his manly pride which is the attraction for you, I think. And you are captivated by the brute, are you not?”

“No, I am not—”

“Don’t lie to me, Amberlie, for you do it so poorly. I am your sovereign and demand your honesty. At least look into your heart and be honest with yourself. Admit that you’re attracted to Tedric. I can see too that he’s taken with you. So, what is wrong with such a match, eh?”

“He is my enemy, sire.”

William vehemently shook his head. “If I didn’t believe that Tedric would be loyal to me, I wouldn’t have offered him Woodrose and you as his wife. In your heart you know that he will be a far better husband and protector for you than Guy de Bayonne. But alas, you must choose. I cannot sway you further one way or the other.”

Amberlie thought he was doing a very poor job of trying not to sway her. The king wanted her to wed Tedric; in fact, he’d already promised her to the man as his wife, and the king didn’t make promises lightly. William fully expected her to marry Tedric, whether she wished to or not. And the king’s word was law.

“When is this marriage to take place?” she asked without feeling.

“Three days hence. I’ve already ordered the kitchen help to begin preparing for the wedding banquet. Of course, I didn’t know who the bridegroom would be.” William looked awkward and had the grace to blush. “So,
cherie,
whom will you choose?”

“Tedric of course, sire.” Amberlie sighed in defeat, wondering if the man even possessed a surname.

~
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~

“The king has humiliated me!” Guy shouted to Julianne when they were alone in her chambers. “Even now the preparations for this wedding banquet progress, and he has yet to tell me that he has turned over Amberlie to this—this pagan!” He held his head in his hands, his body trembling with rage. “Is the man mad, Julianne?”

Julianne impatiently tapped her fingertips upon the arm of the chair where she sat, swathed in black like a mother abbess. “Mad, no, but crafty is our king. Always he has resented your taking control of the knights after Henri’s death without his authority. And now, my silly brother, the king has struck at the heart of you with invisible arrows. Never did he intend to offer Amberlie to you as a bride. You’ve disgraced me and my son with your ridiculous request.”

“Henri is dead, deader than that damnable chair you’re sitting in! When are you ever going to forget that milksop of a boy you weaned?”

Clearly, that was the worst thing Guy could say to Julianne. She rose from her chair in a threatening cloud of black. “My son was a noble knight, more noble of spirit and pure of heart than you or any of your knights. He isn’t dead to me for he lives in my soul, my mind is filled with his face. Henri is more alive to me than are you. And as of this moment, you are dead to me.”

“Come now, Julianne, you don’t frighten me with your contempt, your disdain. The moment Amberlie marries Tedric you’re reduced to taking the Saxon’s charity. Amberlie will be mistress of Woodrose, and you’ll be nothing but a cast-off relation. You’ll have no value here.”

Julianne was irked by Guy’s accurate assessment of the situation, but she stilled her fears by glaring at him. “It appears you have less value than I, dear brother. After all, you asked the king for my son’s wife and were not given the courtesy of his reply. If our king thinks so little of you, then imagine how your enemy shall treat you when the king is no longer in residence at Woodrose.”

“Ah, Julianne, but you are a cold-hearted woman.”

“And you are an unprincipled conniver, but you are the only confidant I have. Never forget that we’re family, united by our common heritage.”

Guy’s voice was hoarse with frustration. “What will you do?”

“Nothing for now,” Julianne said, and sat back down. “But I will somehow, some way, avenge myself upon Tedric of Woodrose for my son’s death. And my son’s treacherous widow shall not escape my wrath unscathed.”

~
~
~

On the morning of the wedding, the castle household stirred from sleep before daybreak. Servants sleepily left their pallets and lighted the huge hearths in the kitchen and the great hall in preparation for the marriage feast. Dawn had just broke when Amberlie heard a cock crow in the bailey, rousing her from a fitful sleep.

She gazed around her chambers with unseeing eyes. All she could think about was the wedding that would take place within a matter of hours. On top of the large cedar chest at the foot of her bed lay her wedding attire. Even in the dawn’s misty light she discerned the vivid blue color of the bliaut and the girdle, which was fashioned from soft dyed wool and inset with pearls and tiny sapphire stones, much valued since it was a wedding gift from the king. Beneath the bliaut she’d don a white chemise made from the finest silk, and she’d cover her hair with a white silk headdress. Upon her feet she’d wear blue slippers, and she remembered that the last time she’d worn them was before she’d left Normandy, over a year ago.

“What am I doing?” she asked herself, and couldn’t dispel the misery she felt within her soul. She hadn’t seen Tedric to speak to him since the day she agreed to marry him. The king had moved him out of Amberlie’s room and into the smaller room beside his own. She wasn’t allowed to tend to him any longer, Magda having permanently replaced her. Though she hadn’t seen him, she’d heard his booming voice sometimes in the hallway, and she knew that with each passing day, he had grown more vigorous in body. No doubt, he’d sufficiently recovered from his injury for he took his meals in the great hall now, while the king had ordered that she dine in her room. It was a most lonely activity, but he didn’t wish her to be seen until the day of the wedding. Amberlie guessed it had something to do with her being found beside Tedric in bed, and William wanted to quell any rumors throughout the keep about her honor—or lack of it.

And what of her honor? she asked herself. Apparently, it meant little to the king to force a marriage between herself and a slave. And what of the wedding night to come? Amberlie shivered just to imagine the scene, and prayed that Tedric would still be too weak physically to possess her. Just the very thought of his touching her turned her legs to liquid. She hated Tedric and resented his intrusion into her life, but her body responded differently than her mind did. Whenever Tedric touched her she behaved wantonly, and she couldn’t bear for the man to know his effect upon her for it gave him a power over her, leaving her too weak to resist him. She knew she would surrender herself to him when the time came, but she vowed to harden her heart against him. Tedric would marry her to inherit the keep and land he so desperately loved, but the union would be a loveless one. Tedric might possess her body, but never would she give him her heart and her soul.

Amberlie rose and gazed out of the window at the busy scene below as serfs raced hither and yon in the bailey, carrying huge silver platters of foods from the kitchen to the keep. Just then Magda entered the room with a tray. “I thought you’d be hungry and would be ready to break your fast, my lady, before I help you dress for your marriage.” Smiling benignly, Magda placed the tray upon a small table. Freshly picked plums from the keep’s orchard and a cup of wine beckoned from the tray. Amberlie decided the wine was more sorely needed than the fruit on such a morning, but felt unable to eat or drink anything for her stomach fluttered with nervousness. “Lord Tedric breaks his fast with the king,” Magda told her.

“Really, such an odd conspiracy.”

“Aye, I admit ‘tis an odd turn of events, but we’re well pleased, especially Lady Mabel. Did you know that Lady Julianne has turned over her chamber to Lady Mabel and Edytha as she’s taken up residence in the east wing of the keep? Sir Guy too.”

Amberlie didn’t know that Julianne and Guy had moved out of their rooms into the newly constructed east wing. She almost felt guilty and responsible for what was surely Julianne’s decision to vacate her chamber, for she doubted anyone, even the king, had ordered her out. Yet she felt relieved too, for she’d no longer have to be aware of Julianne’s presence nearby, now that Tedric would be her husband and would sleep in the same bed in which Henri had slept. She wasn’t bothered by Guy’s decision to move.

When Amberlie was dressed and Magda had finished arranging the headdress in place, the woman stood back and appraised her. “You’re truly lovely, my lady,” Magda said simply. This was high praise from the usually quiet woman. “Lord Tedric is indeed fortunate and will be pleased with you. On the morrow, you’ll be pleased too with your morning gift.”

Amberlie barely heard her as tiny butterflies took wing in her stomach. “What do you mean?” she asked absently, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves as the time drew near for the wedding.

“Your morning gift, my lady. On the morning after the wedding, the groom gives his bride a gift to prove that she has—pleased him—beneath the furs. ‘Tis our custom and much valued by the bride, for it means that the bride not only has won her husband’s heart but is true mistress of the keep and its people.”

Amberlie gazed at the woman in stunned silence, immediately understanding the significance of the gift and feeling outrage and embarrassment. “And what sort of a gift am I to receive for pleasing Lord Tedric?”

“The circlet, my lady,” Magda patiently explained. “It has been passed down to every mistress of Woodrose by her lord and husband. Lady Mabel has already given it to Lord Tedric. ‘Twas the one thing of value she was able to save when she fled the keep. And now it will be passed to you, and should be worn on the morn after your marriage night.”

“So all should know that Lord Tedric is pleased with me.”

“Aye, my lady.”

“‘Tis a silly and barbaric custom.”