Love's Ransom (15 page)

‘I knew Zander planned to leave us,’ she said striving to control her guilty flush. ‘I didn’t know he would leave so -so soon.’ She had almost said so early, which was true. They had bid each other good-bye several times over and in every way they could find to express their undying love.

‘I hear Zander talking with Henry before he left. He seems to think you should have a young guard of your own. He has even asked that Walter should train the lad, but you must come to me, Isabella, if you encounter trouble with Snodd, or any other man.’

‘Thank you,’ she replied dully. She felt dejected and weary now. She had spent several wonderful nights when sleep had not seemed important. Tears sprang to her eyes and she left the table before Sir William could ask more questions.

***

Anna and Henry missed Zander too. The three of them had grown up together and they regarded Zander as a beloved elder brother. Anna came down to Moyenstane Tower more often, bringing her baby son to visit her father and Isabella. Nell was delighted when she brought Jeannie, her young maid and Glossie the pup, who was now big enough to walk but needed some restraint. Six weeks after Zander’s departure Walter offered to escort Isabella and the twins to visit Anna for a change.

‘I miss Zander too,’ he confided, ‘and Henry seems unusually low in spirits since he left.’

‘We all miss him more than we expected,’ Isabella agreed. ‘Even Sir William.’

‘He deserves to miss him,’ Walter said harshly. ‘Everybody believes he is Zander’s father but he has never acknowledged him as his son. When we were younger Zander got into lots of quarrels when other boys taunted him.’

‘I can imagine that,’ Isabella said, her heart aching for the proud young Zander he must have been, ‘but he told me many times you were always his loyal friend.’

‘I tried to be. When he finds passage on a ship he has promised to send a letter, if any travellers are coming this way.’

‘Even if he does he would be long gone by the time we received a letter,’ Isabella said, unaware of her dejected tone.

Walter knew Zander had fallen in love with Isabella, even though he had denied it. Now he wondered if her dejection meant Isabella had returned his feelings.

‘I have been training Duncan to shoot with a bow and arrows,’ he said, changing the subject. ‘He is a bright lad and he can hit the bull’s eye almost every time, now. Next week I shall show him how to load a pistol. When we have practiced shooting he will be able to accompany you to see Anna whenever you wish. She values your friendship. Your company always makes her happy.’

Duncan was walking behind beside Nell, who was carrying one of the twins in her own shawl. She loved both the babies as though they were her own. She was so happy she was sure her Grandmother must be looking down from heaven and sending blessings upon her.

The day had turned exceptionally warm for May, or so it seemed to Isabella. Usually she had plenty of stamina but as they neared Walter’s house she felt an overwhelming need to sit down. Her forehead was clammy and her head swam.

‘You’re very pale, Isabella,’ Walter said with concern. ‘Maybe the walk up the hill is too much for you carrying the baby?’ She shook her head. How could she blame Mamie’s small weight when Nell was carrying her twin without complaint, and she was little more than a child herself.

‘Anna has done the same for the past few weeks so I’m sure I ought to be able to carry Mamie,’ she said breathlessly, but she was glad to see Anna waiting at the door to welcome them in. She sank onto the nearest bench and asked Duncan if he would bring her a drink of water. Anna’s house was supplied with a fresh spring which Walter guaranteed to be clean and pure.

‘You do look exhausted,’ Anna said, eying her sister-in-law anxiously. ‘Feeding two babies is taking your strength.’ She reached for Mamie and cuddled her.

‘It was just my head feeling fuzzy,’ Isabella said when she had sipped some of the water.

‘Well we
can have a rest and a chat now you’re here,’ Anna said with satisfaction. ‘Jeannie and Nell will look after the babies and I think Walter wants Duncan and Billy to help him groom the horses, then the boys can practice shooting at targets together. I remember when Walter and Zander were boys they were always holding competitions but Henry hated such sport.’

‘Zander said Henry was better than either of them when it came to tricks with the whip,’ Isabella said, feeling she should defend the gentle man who was her husband, at least in name. ‘He takes good care of us. Henrietta is supposed to be called after him but he doesn’t seem to mind when we all call her Nettie.’

Later, when they were alone together, Anna remarked, ‘I’ve never seen you pick at your food so much before, Isabella. You must keep up your strength.’

‘I do eat well usually,’ Isabella said. ‘The smell seems to turn my stomach. Or it’s the hot weather,’ she added quickly, in case Anna was offended, but to her surprise Anna began to chuckle.

‘That is exactly how I felt when I first knew I was expecting William,’ she said. ‘Are you expecting another baby already, Isabella?’

Isabella opened her mouth to protest, but no words came. She stared at Anna. Her mind flew back over the past few weeks. She had been so miserable at the thought of never seeing Zander again that she had given little thought to anything except caring for Mamie and Nettie. It was true her milk seemed to have grown less instead of increasing with two of them to suckle. Nell had given the little girls extra goat’s milk to satisfy them.

‘Well? Isabella?’ Anna persisted. ‘Are you expecting another baby so soon?’

‘I-I don’t know. Maybe I am. I hadn’t thought about that.’

‘But it’s possible?’ Anna asked with a giggle. ‘It seems my brother is a more passionate man than any of us believed.’ The colour rushed to Isabella’s cheeks then swiftly faded, leaving her paler than before. Her thoughts were buzzing. She had had marked each day without Zander in her journal so she knew it was forty-three days. But she hadn’t felt faint or sickly until today.

‘You kept so well when you were expecting the twins,’ Anna recalled. ‘I envied you. If you feel sickly this time perhaps it means it is a boy child. That would please my father!’

‘I-I don’t know, Anna. I can’t be sure. Please don’t tell Walter, or anyone else, not yet. It is our secret. Do you promise?’ Anna smiled. She loved having Isabella for a friend and being able to share secrets. ‘I promise,’ she grinned.

‘Henry must be the first to know. That is if you are right.’

‘Surely Henry must know already? Or at least suspect...’ Anna smiled dreamily, ‘Walter always knows these things, better than I do myself. He is most loving and considerate. He hopes we shall not have another baby until I am stronger.’

As the days passed Isabella paid more attention to her monthly rhythms but in her heart she knew Anna’s suspicions were correct. Part of her rejoiced because she had another small part of Zander within her still, but she hated being sick every morning and she had so little milk to feed the twin. She knew she must tell Henry. Lizzie was an old woman but she had sharp eyes. Nell kept her own council but Isabella knew her young maid had her own suspicions when she began to feed the twins with finely strained oatmeal gruel as well as goats’ milk.

Isabella felt nervous when she confided in Henry but he was as delighted as if he had sired the baby himself. ‘You must take care, Isabella,’ he said with tender concern. ‘The twins are still babies. You must eat well and take a rest each day to build up your strength.’

‘I will, Henry, I promise. It is only in the mornings that I feel sickly.’

‘Then I shall brew some herbs and make you a drink. Father Oliver recommended it but you never needed anything like that before.’

‘We do not need to tell your father yet, do we, Henry?’

‘Not if you want to keep it as our secret.’

‘Anna knows. She guessed before I did myself, but she promised not to tell.’

‘I am glad you and Anna are good friends. I always had Zander for my friend and protector but I know Anna sometimes felt a little lonely because we had no mother to love us or confide in, even though Lizzie did her best.’

‘You are a good man, Henry? Are you sure you don’t mind?’

‘I am relieved. Zander loves you, Isabella but I know he would not have come to you if he thought I would be hurt. I pleaded with him to help us. I can’t tell you how glad I am that you are having another child, so long as your own health doesn’t suffer, my dear. I could not bear it if anything should happen to you.’

As the weeks passed Lizzie realised Isabella was expecting another baby.

‘You have been bad tempered and low in spirits ever since Zander left,’ she said to Sir William with the familiarity of long acquaintance. And you’re worse since the letter arrived to tell you he had taken passage on a ship to the east.’

‘He has gone to the other side of the world. Anything could happen on such a journey. We may never see him again.’

‘Then I hope this bit of news will cheer you. Isabella is expecting another child.’

‘She is? Are you sure, Lizzie?’ His eyes brightened. ‘Why has Henry not told me? It is the best news I could have.’

‘Aye,’ Lizzie said drily. ‘But only if it’s a boy, then it will be worthy of a celebration.’

The twins were content and happy. They tried new foods without complaint and Isabella blessed the day she had taken Nell into the household for the girl had absorbed much of her grandmother’s knowledge. She fed the twins liquor and finely mashed vegetables from the sheep’s head broth and the chicken soup, both of which were favourites of Isabella’s. She enjoyed cooking and she encouraged Nell to help her and Eliza in the kitchen. Since weaning the twins Isabella had regained her former good health and she and Henry often worked companionably in the garden, cultivating as many vegetables as were available, some of them from seeds Henry had brought back from Father Oliver. Isabella felt a fountain of joy bubbled within her; it helped to lessen her yearning for Zander’s strong arms and warm embrace.

Eleven

When Duncan was not practising with his bow and arrows, or firing a pistol under Walter’s instruction, he helped Isabella weed her plots, or assisted Henry with the bee hives. Isabella had been surprised at the low stocks of mead and honey when she first arrived but Henry had been happy to increase the bees when he saw how many uses she found for both the honey and beeswax. Duncan was eager to please and to learn, often asking about the herbs and how they were used. Henry was patient and encouraging. When her chores in the washtub and kitchen were finished Nell often wrapped the twins in warm woollen shawls, bringing them to the garden in the little wooden cart, sometimes lifting each one in turn to look over the wattle fence to see the goats and pigs. The animals wandered freely, foraging for anything edible. Mamie and Nettie chortled happily at the sight of them, but at night they sought shelter and food in the pens which Henry had constructed with the help of the two young joiner’s apprentices.

During the early days of winter Duncan mentioned rumours of a wild boar roaming near the village at night.

‘Where did you hear that?’ Walter asked.

‘Jud Snodd told some of the men who take their horses to the smiddy.’

‘Wild boars don’t usually venture out o’ the woods, but maybe a young boar has taken over and chased the old one away. Better not mention it in front o’ the women, laddie.’

‘All right,’ Duncan nodded, ‘but I’ll make sure ma mother’s pig is safe.’

‘Good lad. Tell her to stay inside at night. Snodd often scrounges around so it’s possible he’s seen one scavenging for food.’

Despite his malice even Snodd had no idea of the terrible havoc a starving wild boar could cause, especially if he had been tempted abroad by food, only to find himself trapped. Snodd sought revenge on Isabella and Henry and what better way than to destroy their garden. So he tempted the boar with bits of food, laying a trail at night to the wattle fence. He hoped the boar would break into the garden and demolish their carefully tended plants. Each night he made a trail of acorns and bits of barley from the wood to the corner of the garden. He loosened
the corner of the tightly woven fence to weaken it. After several nights he threw a handful of acorns and barley into the garden, hoping the boar would break through. Each morning the acorns had gone but the boar did not go beyond the fence. Being lazy by nature Snodd tired of his latest ploy. A few nights passed. The young boar which had usurped the old one was ferocious in guarding his territory, forcing his old enemy to wander ever nearer to human habitation. The old boar grew desperate.

The air had an icy sting against Isabella’s skin but the winter sun was shining and she decided to dig up the few remaining onions and string them up for the winter.

‘When you have finished helping Walter with the horses, Duncan, I would like you to help me lift the cabbages please, and I need leeks for the broth. She was heavily pregnant now, though far neater than she had been with the twins. She worked happily, humming to herself. Nell came out with Nettie and Mamie in their cart. She intended showing them the little goat over the fence. She was Nell’s favourite and they often fed her treats of fresh greens.

The wild boar could smell the trail leading him to the garden. He was starving.

Nell was halfway across the garden, with the twins when the boar burst through the corner of the wattle fence. Isabella was bending over. Nell gave a piercing scream. Isabella jerked upright, fright making her angry. Before she could utter a sound Nell pointed to the boar. Sensing Nell’s fear the children began to cry. Isabella turned to look. Her eyes widened in horror. The boar was grunting and rooting inside the garden, only a few yards away from her.

‘Pick them up and run, Nell,’ she hissed. Nell grabbed a screaming child under each arm and obeyed. The noise and movement upset the old boar. His piggy eyes saw Isabella not far away. Her gaze was fixed on him as she moved slowly backwards. She was afraid to turn and run. Her heart was hammering in her chest. Henry had told her he often encountered wild animals during his moonlight wanderings and they never harmed him. She tried to stay calm but her breath was coming in short gasps of fear as she placed one foot behind the other while staring at the boar, willing him not to charge. Her foot twisted on a stone and she almost lost her balance. She glanced swiftly over her shoulder to make sure Nell and the twins were safe. Henry was running towards her, his face white. The boar turned to make his escape. He couldn’t see where he had pushed through the fence. He was trapped.

‘Go, Isabella,’ Henry ordered out of the side of his mouth, his eyes fixed on the boar. ‘Walk fast. Go!’ The boar saw him standing there. He saw Isabella moving. He turned back towards the fence but he was cornered. He turned swiftly and charged at Henry. He was old. His tusks were long. He veered to one side but one tusk pierced Henry deep in his groin. He fell to the ground.

Isabella screamed for Duncan.

‘Bring your pistol! Come quickly.’ Duncan had just come in at the main door but he ran, grabbing his pistol as he came. His face was white and his hand shaking.

‘Shoot Duncan. Shoot the boar,’ Isabella almost fainted as she saw the boar smelling Henry’s blood. It began to bite at his thigh. Isabella grabbed the gun from the boy’s trembling hand. She aimed and shot. But she had not been trained like her brother. She hit the boar. He fell sideways with a roar of pain but he was still alive.

In the courtyard Walter and two of the other men heard the commotion and the pistol shot. They ran towards the wattle fence. Walter saw at once what had happened. He vaulted over the fence, pulling out his dirk as he ran. In pain and anger the boar struggled to rise. Walter slashed at his throat, sending blood spurting into the air and over Henry. Thomas joined him and between them they carried Henry inside.

‘Shall we take him to his room?’ Thomas asked.

‘No, lay him here on the trestle table,’ Isabella ordered, striving to control the faintness which threatened to overcome her. ‘He is bleeding too fast. We must stop it. Cloths, I need clean cloths to staunch the wound.’ Lizzie was at her elbow now, holding out a piece torn from a sheet. Isabella packed it against the hole in Henry’s groin. Her heart quailed. Even if she could stop the bleeding the wound was filthy with soil and froth from the boar. ‘Thomas please bring Henry’s father. Tell him we need brandy to cleanse the wound.’ She replaced the blood soaked material with another, working automatically.

‘You all right, lassie?’ Lizzie asked. Her voice shook. She looked very old.

‘Yes, Lizzie. Pass me more. If only I could stop the bleeding,’ she was almost sobbing in despair. Walter was cutting away Henry’s garments to make it easier for her to deal with the wound. She saw his eyes widen. His hand stilled. Surely Henry couldn’t be the father of Isabella’s children, he thought. A moment later Lizzie had covered him with a piece of sheet. She moved closer, protective of the young man who was the nearest she had ever had to a son of her own.

‘Hold this against the wound, Walter.’ Isabella instructed when Henry murmured her name. She moved to take hold of his hand as she looked down into his face. His breath was coming in gasps.

‘Dearest Henry. I will make a drink with the willow bark to ease the pain, but I need to stop the bleeding first.’

‘Yes. Jar with four squares.’ His words were faint, halting. ‘Pack it in. Wash… later…’ His eyes closed. Isabella placed a fresh cloth on the wound and left Walter to hold it, but even as she ran to fetch the healing herbs she knew the wound was deeper and much worse than mere bleeding. The smell told her the boar’s tusk had pierced Henry’s bowel or his stomach. She did as he instructed then cradled him in her arms while she held the willow infusion to his lips. His breathing was uneven now but he sipped a little. His fair hair and his forehead were damp with sweat. Isabella knew the pain must be intense but he didn’t moan, or complain.

‘You’re so brave, Henry. You saved my life.’ Isabella’s voice was low and shaky with emotion. She had not heard Sir William approach.

‘You’re - good -wife. The best…’ His voice was a mere thread of sound.

‘Isabella is right, you are brave Henry. I’m proud of you, my son.’ His father’s voice was gruff and he stroked Henry’s damp hair back from his brow with a gentle hand. Henry opened his eyes. Isabella took his hand again and pressed it gently in response. He gave the ghost of a smile, then turned his blue eyes to his father. His words came haltingly, but clear.

‘Never force her…to… marry…again, Father. Give …your… word? No.. forcing…’ His voice faded. His strength was failing.

‘I promise.’

Out of the corner of her eyes Isabella saw Lizzie change the bloodied cloth one more time. Henry was silent. She thought he would not have strength to speak again. He opened his eyes and looked at his father.

‘Get Zander home.’ In spite of his weakness there seemed to be an urgency in his words. ‘He…care for…Bella…children, as…for…me. His eyes closed but Isabella felt the faint pressure of his hand in her own.

‘I will protect Isabella,’ Sir William said, ‘and care for your children. His voice gruff as he stared down at his dying son. Isabella bent over Henry and kissed his brow but she couldn’t prevent her tears falling on his face. She didn’t think he knew but he whispered, ‘Don’t…grieve… my…Bell…’

‘He’s gone, my love.’ Lizzie spoke softly at her side. ‘You must lie down and rest.’ She raised her eyes to Sir William. ‘In her condition… Such a thing to happen. We must take care o’…’

‘Aye, we will. But he asked for Zander,’ he said brokenly. ‘We don’t know where he is, or how to find him.’

‘Mistress Isabella’s health is more important,’ Lizzie said her voice sharp with tension and the struggle to control her own emotions

‘I’m fine,’ Isabella said, but she stumbled as she straightened up.

‘I’ll tend tae him now, lassie.’

‘Lizzie’s right, Isabella. Take care of yourself and the baby now,’ Walter said. I’ll help you to your chamber?’

‘I’ll send a soothing drink up with Nell in a wee while,’ Lizzie promised.

Isabella felt too upset and exhausted to argue. Her knees felt weak and she was glad of Walter’s strong arm to support her as they climbed the three flights of twisting stairs.

Anna came to stay the following day. Isabella was glad of her company. Everyone in the household seemed to be watching over her. They wouldn’t hear of her doing any work. Anna had brought her baby and Jeannie, her maid. Everyone tried to tempt Isabella with morsels of tender meat or the tastiest broth but she had little appetite for food. She was finding it difficult to shake off her low spirits. She longed to see her mother and be able to talk with her but that was impossible. Her family would not know what had happened or that she was a widow now. Even if they did her mother could not ride a horse across the marshes and it would take several days to travel round by the tracks, and she could not leave three young daughters.

News spread with amazing speed. People came from all over Sir William’s vast acres to attend Henry’s funeral. A few came from further afield, including Warden Herries and some of his men. They came in friendship and Sir William appreciated the gesture of goodwill. Isabella was touched by his kindness when he offered to make a detour on the way home if she would like him to take a letter to her family. She seized the opportunity and wrote a long letter, covering every possible space on the page from left to right and top to bottom. There was only a small stock of paper left. She wondered where Henry had procured such things.

Anna didn’t know and couldn’t help for she had little interest in writing, or in books. She stayed for two weeks. Isabella missed her company. Her thoughts frequently wandered between Henry and Zander as she sat sewing.

She was standing at her window at the top of the tower one morning when she saw a man approaching. He was riding an elderly looking horse and leading a donkey on a rein. She watched curiously. As he drew nearer she realised he was not a young man. His shoulders were bowed. She still felt too young to be mistress of Moyenstane Tower but all the servants deferred to her. She made her way slowly down the spiral staircases in time to meet the man as he approached the high walls of the courtyard. She realised at once that he was a monk and she called Duncan to take charge of the horse and donkey. Walter came round the corner at the same time.

‘Why Father Oliver, we were not expecting you, or at least I had not heard you were coming,’ he stammered. ‘I-I am sorry Master Henry is not here to greet you...’

‘A traveller called at the monastery and brought news of Henry’s death, my son. It grieves me.’ Isabella stepped forward. She saw relief on Walter’s face.

‘Aah Isabella, this is Father Oliver. He was tutor to Master Henry and his sister and Zander.’ The elderly priest turned to Isabella and took her hands in his.

‘I have come to express my sorrow for the death of your husband Mistress Douglas. He was a fine young man and the brightest pupil I ever taught.’

‘Henry spoke highly of you too, Father. But please come inside. You must be ready for rest and refreshment.’

‘Indeed a drink of ale and a crust of bread would be welcome, dear child, but first I would relieve my faithful old donkey of his load.’

‘Of course.’ She beckoned to Duncan who was hovering uncertainly in the doorway. ‘This is Duncan, Father Oliver. Henry hired him as my special guard and he is most loyal and protective.’ She smiled at the boy and he bowed his head awkwardly at them both. ‘Will you carry the baskets into Master Henry’s medicine room Duncan. They will be safe there until Father Oliver can attend to them, then please take his donkey to the stables and give him food and water.’ She turned to the priest. ‘Please come with me, Father. I will take you to the living quarters then bring you food and drink.’