The Dragon Lord's Daughters (40 page)
Read The Dragon Lord's Daughters Online
Authors: Bertrice Small
What was William le Clare like, she wondered? Well, she knew that he was old. More than twice her age. And he wanted an heir. She shuddered remembering that to get an heir one must couple with one's husband. She knew Simon had tried to be gentle with her, but it had all been so distasteful and crude when he had mounted her. And yet her mother, Gorawen and Argel seemed to enjoy their time with her father. There must be more to a husband's relationship with his wife than what had happened between her and Simon that awful day. And it should be a private thing. Yet the thought of coupling her body with another man both revolted and frightened her.
But if he was pleasant, and she thought she might be able to live with him, Junia made up her mind that she would accept a proposal of marriage from this man. She would be sixteen in a few weeks, and she didn't want to have to endure the prospective husband parade that Maia had been forced to accept. She would not love him, but she would be a good wife to him, and she would, despite her distaste, do her best to give him the children he desired. But best of all she would be away from Dragon's Lair, and the Dragon Lord, her father, who had killed the man she loved.
She took care with her garb the day their guests were suppose to arrive. Her undergown had a high round neck, and tight long sleeves. It was of fine lightweight silk, deep green in color. Over it Junia wore a sleeveless overgown with open sides. It was made of a pale gold-colored brocade. A girdle of enameled green links was fastened about her waist. Her black hair was carefully part in the center, and she wore two thick braids. The three older women nodded at each other, pleased. It was obvious that Junia was making an effort. Still, she did not ask for their approval when she came into the hall, and she went immediately to her loom, sitting down, and beginning her work again.
The guests arrived, and were welcomed. The women eyed William le Clare with interest. He was a tall, well-made man who did not look at all as if he were in his middle thirties. His hair was a rich, dark chestnut brown. It was thick, and curled slightly at the nape of his neck. His eyes were neither green nor brown, but rather a deep hazel color. His head was nicely rounded, but he had a long face with a long aristocratic nose, high cheekbones, deep-set oval eyes, and a large narrow mouth that was in perfect proportion with the rest of his face. His voice when he spoke was low and well modulated.
“I would call him handsome,” Gorawen said to the other two women, who nodded in agreement.
“Pray God and his angels that my daughter finds him suitable,” Ysbail said.
“Pray God and his angels that this suitor finds Junia suitable,” Gorawen said.
“Fetch your daughter, woman,” the Dragon Lord called to Ysbail, and she immediately arose, moving quickly across the hall to where Junia sat at her loom. When she reached the girl she said in a voice devoid of any emotion, “Daughter, your father calls you to come to him. Will you obey him now?”
Junia arose, and without a word moved back across the hall to where her father stood with his guests. She smiled, and curtsied to the three men. “Da, you wish my presence?” she asked him.
He did not answer her, saying instead, “William le Clare, this is my daughter Junia. Turn about, girl, and let the man see you. He cannot buy a pig in a poke.”
“I was not aware that I was being sold,” Junia replied pertly.
William le Clare laughed. He had been afraid the girl would be some poor beaten-down creature. He had only agreed to come to Dragon's Lair that he not offend his cousin, Lord Mortimer. But the girl had spirit. She might prove a pleasant companion, and a lively lover. He needed to know more. “I am not offended, Merin. I find your daughter amusing.” He looked directly at Junia. “Lady,” he said, reaching out to take her hand. “You will walk with me.”
Not will you,
Junia thought,
but rather, you will.
He was a man who took charge. “I will walk with you, sir,” she said, and she took his hand.
Junia thought,
but rather, you will.
He was a man who took charge. “I will walk with you, sir,” she said, and she took his hand.
They moved away from the others, walking slowly down the length of the hall.
“I am seeking a wife only for the purpose of siring an heir,” he began. “I would tell you immediately that I loved my late wife with every fiber of my being. What love I believe I have left is for my child.”
“In that I will concur,” Junia said. “If I am able to give you a child I will love that child, but I will have no love for you, my lord. I will love and mourn my late husband, Simon, the rest of my days.”
He nodded. “Then we are of one mind, lady,” he told her.
“If you find that I suit you, my lord, I will come prepared to oversee your household as a good chatelaine should do. I will obey and respect you,” Junia said.
“Always?” he asked, his hazel eyes twinkling.
Startled by the teasing tone in his voice Junia look up into William le Clare's face.
“You do not strike me, Junia, as a very obedient girl,” he told her softly.
She blushed. She actually blushed, and she was angry for a moment that this man could have elicited such a reaction from her. “My lord, I can only promise you that I will do my best by and for you,” she responded stiffly.
“Speak freely, lady,” he said low. “We must be completely honest with one another. Are you willing to be my wife or no?”
“I am willing,” Junia replied.
“Why?” he demanded, the hazel eyes searching her face for the truth.
“Because there are only two choices open to me, my lord. You know them both. Because I do not want to be put on display for a parade of men seeking my hand in marriage. Because I am anxious to leave my father's house since I can never forgive him for killing my husband, Simon de Bohun. I could have lived without my honor, my lord, but living without Simon is proving difficult. I choose to accept your offer of marriage because you seem a good man who would treat me fairly, though God and his angels know my choices to date have not been successful. I am not suited to the church. I must marry. You need a wife to give you a child. Our families know each other. If you will have me, I will accept you as my husband, and do my best to be a good wife to you,” Junia said quietly. “I suppose I shock you with my frankness.”
“Nay, your honesty pleases me, Junia,” he told her. “If you thought to drive me off, then you have failed in your attempt. Now, I will be as candid with you. I loved my wife, Adele. We knew each other since childhood, and we married when she was fourteen and I was eighteen. Our greatest sorrow was in not having a child. Then Adele developed a great canker in her belly. When we had to face the fact that she was dying my wife made me promise that I would wed again that I might have the heir she had not been able to give me. I swore to her that I would do her bidding, but I told her then that I should not love another wife. I remember her smiling at me when I said it. She told me that I should not cheat another woman so cruelly, but I cannot love another, Junia, and you must know that before you agree to wed me. I will treat you well, and I will respect your position in my household as my wife, and as the mother of my children. But I can never love you. Can you live with that knowledge, Junia?”
“If you can comprehend that I will mourn Simon de Bohun forever, my lord, aye. We will be friends. I think being friends is better than falling in love,” Junia replied.
“When will you wed me, then?” he asked her.
“Simon has not been dead a year yet, but I will marry you immediately, my lord,” she told him. “There was no joy and feasting when I wed Simon. I do not want any now. I hope that you will understand.”
He nodded. “I do, Junia. Come, then, and let us speak with your father on the matter.”
The Dragon Lord protested weakly when his youngest daughter said there would be no festivities for her marriage to William le Clare, but Argel overruled him, and Gorawen and Ysbail both soothed him. “But your sisters will be hurt,” Merin Pendragon said. “You were at their weddings.”
“I am but a widow remarrying,” Junia said sharply. “I do not want a great deal of fuss or to-do. I would wed on the morrow, and leave immediately afterwards for my new home.” Then she turned to William le Clare. “Where is our home, sir?”
“Hereford,” he told her. “A three days' journey from here. My house sits atop a hill looking west into Wales. I have fields, and meadows. A small forest. A village with a mill and a church. My serfs are industrious and not given to rebellion. You will be happy there, Junia.”
“Aye,” she agreed, “I believe I will. Why would you object, my lord?” she asked her father.
“I don't,” he grumbled, “but why can you not be wed in a proper fashion like your two sisters?”
“Now if I recall, Averil dragged you, Rhys FitzHugh, and a party of men across the country to Aberffraw for a judgment from the prince because Rhys had bride-napped her thinking she was your heiress. Honor demanded he wed Averil, or that someone else be willing to take her. And then at the last minute Averil decided she would marry Rhys so the prince saw them joined that same day. It was a simple wedding.
“As for Maia, she sat meek as fresh milk while every eligible man in the March tried to court her. Then said she would wed no one but the Lord of the Lake, and locked herself away until you agreed. That, I will admit, was a nice wedding.
“Now, my lord, we come to me, the youngest of your daughters. Because you and the de Bohuns couldn't put aside a hundred-year-old feud, Hugo and Simon de Bohun are now dead, and their castle of Agramant lies a burned-out ruin. Hugo, I will agree, deserved to die, and it did give me particular satisfaction to see his head upon a pike, but Simon was as innocent of what had happened as I was. Yet you still killed him.
“William le Clare loved his late wife. He seeks a second wife for the purpose of having a child. I am pleased that despite my adventures he will have me to wife. But there is, will be, no love between us. This is a practical arrangement. Let us not make it more than it is. With my good lord's permission we will wed early on the morrow, and then depart for Hereford. Surely you will cease your objections, my lord sire.”
“But we will have a small breakfast after you are joined,” Argel said quietly. “You cannot begin your long journey without something in your bellies.”
“Agreed, lady!” William le Clare said, and he looked to Junia who bowed her dark head in acceptance.
So in the same gown in which she had greeted him the day before, for it was her best gown, Junia married William le Clare early the next morning. Argel had arranged a pleasant meal for them all, and after they had eaten, the bridal couple, and Lord Mortimer, prepared to depart. Junia's few personal possessions and dower chest had been packed and stored in a cart for transport. She refused her father's offer of a serving girl.
“William will provide me with a servant,” she said. “Farewell, my lord.”
“Junia, will you ever forgive me?” he asked her.
She gave him a bleak look, turning away without answering him. Dutifully she hugged and kissed her mother. Ysbail, her usual sharp temper cowed by her daughter's recent fury, whispered low, “God bless and protect you, my daughter. I think you have done the wise thing.”
“What, Mother,” Junia said, half teasing, “you do not wish to come with me?”
“I will not come to you until you ask me,” Ysbail replied proudly.
Junia turned away from her, and bid first Gorawen, and lastly Argel good-bye.
“You can always come home,” Argel told her softly.
“Never again, Lady Mother,” Junia replied.
They departed Dragon's Lair, and riding across the fields before the keep Junia thought of that long ago day when Rhys FitzHugh and young Roger Mortimer had surprised them all by the brook, and stolen Averil away. They had all been so young. Now Junia felt as if she were a hundred years old. The man she loved was dead. She was married to a man she could never love, and who could never love her. So much for girlish daydreams.
They reached Lord Mortimer's house in the late afternoon, their journey slowed slightly by the cart carrying Junia's possessions. After the evening meal Junia found herself alone in a small guest chamber. She undressed herself and climbing into bed fell asleep. A maidservant awakened her early, bringing water with which she washed. She dressed and went down to the hall where she found her husband and Lord Mortimer already at table. Junia joined them, eating heartily.
“We are a two-day journey from here to my home,” William le Clare told his bride. “I have arranged for us to spend the night at the monastery of St.Wulfstan. It is a long day's ride, Junia, and I would have you prepared for it.”
Thanking Lord Mortimer they departed for Hereford. William le Clare had not lied. The day's ride was very long, and they reached their destination as the sun was beginning to slip beneath the hills behind them. They were welcomed, and shown to separate guest quarters. As there were no other women traveling through that night Junia found herself quite alone. A meal was brought to her, for the monastery had no place where women guests might eat. She was awakened in the early morning by a most ancient monk who brought her a small trencher filled with oat stirabout, and a small cup of cider. She giggled to herself thinking the abbot probably considered the old fellow safe from her feminine wiles. She had slept in her gown, and so after relieving herself she ate quickly, assuming her husband would want to get started early.
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