Wolf Bride (10 page)

‘Of course. He is a northerner.’

‘And a good soldier.’

‘Indeed he is. Though rather older than you.’

‘That signifies nothing these days. Queen Anne is ten years younger than King Henry.’

‘And Mary tells us in the servants’ quarters that King Henry has already tired of his pretty young wife and is looking elsewhere for his amusement.’

Eloise stared. ‘Hush, for pity’s sake!’

Laughing comfortably, Morag went to the window and pulled the shutter across. ‘Have you forgotten this is Yorkshire, my lamb? We are hundreds of miles from court, and there are no spies here to carry our wicked gossip back to fine King Harry. Now come, let me dress your hair properly.’ The darkened chamber seemed so cosy, just like when she was a child, and Eloise did not object when Morag sat her down on the stool and began to comb out her hair. ‘Your father has ordered a grand banquet in honour of your wedding, and half the county is to be invited. But for the next month at least, you will live quiet here and prepare for your nuptials. Your father has asked Lord Wolf to come and ride and hunt with him, and you are to entertain him too.’

‘Me?’

‘Do not look so shocked, child. When you are his wife, his lordship will expect you to entertain him every night.’

Eloise felt her cheeks burn at the thought. ‘Oh, Morag! I do not think I can go through with it.’

‘Nonsense, every bride fears that.’

She turned, looking up at her nurse in surprise. ‘Every bride? You were married once, were you not? Did you . . . That is, were you unsure of . . .’

Morag smiled, and bent to kiss her cheek. ‘Of course I was. The wedding night can rattle most girls’ nerves. But I soon learnt to love my husband. It was God’s will that John was taken from me barely a year later, and after that I sought service in your father’s household.’ Her old nurse gave a little giggle under her breath. ‘We had to share a house with his parents. I still remember how John would touch and kiss me in the darkness, and how we tried so hard not to make a sound those first few months . . .’

Eloise could not help laughing too. ‘Morag!’

‘Do you love Lord Wolf?’

She sobered at once, her smile fading. ‘I do not know him well enough to love him.’

Morag hesitated. ‘Well, give it time. If he wants an heir, he will not hurt or mistreat you.’

‘I always thought I would marry for love.’

‘A girl’s dream. You are too old to believe that now. Lord Wolf will be as good a husband as any other man, and better for being richer. At least you will never know hardship as his wife. Many women do not even have that assurance when they exchange their father’s authority for their husband’s. And one day love may come, through habit if nothing else.’ Morag smoothed her hair. ‘There, that’s better.’

She grabbed Morag’s hand and kissed her palm. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘You always know what to do for the best. Will you come with me when I marry?’

Morag frowned. ‘To Lord Wolf’s estate? That will be for your father to decide. I am his servant.’

‘He will let you come with me,’ Eloise said confidently.

‘Well, we shall see when the day comes. Now you must go downstairs and speak with your father. He wishes to see you before supper.’

‘What about?’

Morag pinched her cheek, her smile teasing. ‘My pretty lamb, you are soon to be married. There will be a hundred things to decide.’

‘I . . . I am not ready for any of that.’

‘None of us ever are.’ Her nurse gestured her to stand, then turned her in the direction of the door. ‘Now off with you. I have your bridal clothes to arrange.’

Eloise paused at the door, looking back. ‘Morag, where is my sister? I thought she would be here to welcome me back.’

‘Susannah is visiting your Aunt Eileen at Thirsk. I sent a note up there with a servant this morning. No doubt she will return as soon as your aunt can spare her.’

Smiling, Eloise hurried downstairs to her father. She wondered what Susannah would look like now, and found herself quite impatient to see her younger sister again.

When Eloise had left for court, Susannah had been a tearaway girl in muddied petticoats, clutching a horn book and still learning her letters. By now her sister must be of marriageable age. And no doubt as pert as ever!

As Eloise had feared, her father was adamant when asked if the wedding could be delayed. ‘No, my dear. You are to be wed to Lord Wolf with all speed – though not without proper decorum. The banns will be read in church, to satisfy the priests, and your marriage will take place before summer comes.’

‘But why must we hurry to wed?’

‘Because Lord Wolf demands it.’ Her father hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with this discussion. He looked away, coughing delicately. ‘I did not argue with his lordship. He is a nobleman of some consequence, after all, and knows his own mind. I simply assumed there must be some good reason for his haste.’

She stared, not quite understanding. Then it hit her. Her father thought she and Lord Wolf had anticipated the wedding night.

Anger buzzed in her head like a wasp; she took a deep breath to dispel it, not wishing to lose her temper with her father, however much he had slighted her honour.

‘If you mean what I think you mean, then no. I have not been intimate with his lordship.’

Her father smiled affectionately upon her, as though glad he had been mistaken. ‘Why then, it must be your beauty alone that inspires his haste. And what harm is there in that? Come,’ he told her, rising from his seat, ‘let us walk together. I have sadly neglected you as a daughter these past few years, and now we may not have many days left for walking and talking together. For once you are Lady Wolf, your first duty must be to your husband.’

Eloise said nothing, but lowered her gaze to the floor. My first duty as Lady Wolf should be to myself, she thought grimly. But her father had never understood her rebellious nature, so she kept that thought secret. To him a woman was a mere possession without opinion or feeling, to be passed like a chattel from father to husband, so that a woman could only speak her mind and run her own life once she had become a respectable widow.

If Lord Wolf also held such views, she thought fiercely, he would find himself at war with his wife from the first day of their marriage.

She spent the day with her father, even dining cosily with him in her private chambers, for he was still tired after their long journey. For a while it felt like the years before she left for court, when she had been close to her father, and sat with him in the long evenings, reading aloud to him or sewing her sampler while he dozed. Sitting there in the firelight, she could almost believe her betrothal to Lord Wolf, and her days at court, had been a dream. It was a comfortable thought, for the court was a more menacing place than she had realised as a girl, too eager to be out in the world and ignorant of its traps and dangers.

The very next day though, that dream of innocence fled, leaving her with nothing but cold reality.

Morag woke her early with an urgent cry, exclaiming, ‘Wake up, my pet! He is come to see you, he is waiting for you below.’

She stared from her bed in drowsy confusion while Morag bustled about the room, throwing back the shutters to let in the cool February light and shouting orders to the other servants to bring a bowl of water and scented soaps for washing.

‘Who is come?’

‘Your betrothed, who else?’ Morag shook her head, pulling back the bed covers. ‘Hurry, girl, shake off your sleep. You are to dress and ride out with him.’

‘Ride out with Lord Wolf?’

‘Did I not just say that?’ Morag shook out a riding gown, then turned as the door opened. ‘Ah, Mary! Put the bowl next to the bed and aid Mistress Eloise. Quick, quick. Oh, I should not have left you sleeping so late if I had known he would visit so soon. But what man could ever be patient when his mind is on love?’

Sighing, Eloise slipped out of bed and helped Mary remove her thin nightrail. There seemed little point in trying to wriggle out of seeing Lord Wolf. Soon she would have to see him every day, whether she wished it or not. She washed carefully, then held out her arms and allowed them to dress her for riding, staring out at the blue sky and the soft outline of the distant hills.

Was Lord Wolf’s mind on love?

She rather fancied he had come to ensure she had no chance to change her mind. Wolf struck her as possessing a jealous nature, so that her time spent in the litter with Hugh Beaufort might have angered him. Yet he had placed the wounded man there himself. If he was now suspicious of her fidelity, it was a trap of his own making.

Leaning over the stairs, she caught a glimpse of Lord Wolf with her father in the hall below. His black hair framed a hard-boned face, his plain cap set at a slant, his fine riding gloves gripped in one restless hand. Once again she had an impression of power, an indomitable will that would not easily be swayed by a woman’s argument.

It was hard to believe she would soon be in this man’s bed, and under his control. It was not a comfortable thought. Yet how could she persuade her father to change his mind?

Wolf was telling her father, ‘I have offered a substantial reward for information, but these gangs are often very tight. We may never catch the men involved.’

‘Villains!’

Wolf turned and saw Eloise descending. His sharp blue gaze travelled over her riding gown, then he bowed. ‘Mistress Eloise, it is good to see you again.’

She curtseyed low to both men, forcing herself to be polite. ‘Good morning, Father. Lord Wolf.’

Wolf himself wasted no further time on pleasanteries, she noticed drily.

‘I trust you are rested after your long journey,’ he said, ‘and can face a morning’s ride? I have brought a mare for you, as a gift, and would like to show you some of my land.’

‘That is very generous of you, my lord.’ She looked from him to her father. ‘But ride out unaccompanied?’

Wolf shrugged. ‘I thought your sister, perhaps . . .?’

Her father interrupted, his expression concerned. ‘Sadly, my lord, my younger daughter is not at home. Susannah has gone to visit her aunt, who is forever ailing. A letter has been dispatched to summon her home again. If you wait until tomorrow, my lord, I’m sure she will have returned by then.’

‘I do not wish to wait,’ Wolf told him, with little attempt at civility.

‘Of course not, my lord,’ her father agreed hurriedly. ‘In that case, one of my servants can ride out with you. It will not take long to organise.’

‘Sir John, your daughter and I are betrothed to be married. The wedding will take place within a month, or so you have assured me.’ Wolf pulled on his riding gloves, his body tense with impatience. ‘Surely we need no chaperone for a few hours’ ride across the fields? I shall bring your daughter home unmolested, I swear it.’

Her father said nothing, but glanced at her as though in need of her agreement.

‘Lord Wolf is quite right. We have no need of a chaperone while riding out together,’ she agreed, and kissed her father on the cheek. She added significantly, ‘If his lordship swears to return me safely to you, then I trust his word.’

Leading her out to the stableyard where their horses stood saddled and waiting, Wolf gave her a dry smile. ‘So you trust my word as a gentleman, do you?’

‘To my father, yes.’

The smile widened to a grin. ‘But not my word to you as a husband.’

‘You are not yet my husband,’ she reminded him lightly, and nodded for him to lift her onto the sturdy chestnut mare.

‘More’s the pity.’

‘I did not wish you and my father to fall into an argument, that is all.’

His hands settled tightly about her waist, bringing her close to his body as he lifted her. ‘I see.’

Their eyes met, and she caught a tang of his masculine scent of leather and horses. Then she was perched on the side-saddle, looking down at him in the sunlight. She felt warmth in her cheeks and hurriedly dropped his gaze, unwilling to let him see how much his closeness affected her.

Wolf handed her the reins, then mounted his own stallion with ease. He glanced at her assessingly. ‘I remember seeing you riding alone when you were a girl. Clearly your father allowed you more freedom in those days. Did you often ride out with the queen’s ladies at court?’

‘Hardly ever,’ she admitted.

‘But you have not forgotten how to ride?’

She raised her chin, turning to glare at him. Was he mocking her? ‘I’m a country girl, my lord, I grew up around horses. Of course I have not forgotten.’ As though to prove her point, she hooked her foot about the saddle harness for added security, gathering the reins in her gloved hands. Then she gave the mare a smart kick. ‘And up!’

The mare broke into a trot, clattering out of the stableyard. Jolted about across the cobbles in an undignified fashion, Eloise was glad when the horse reached the dusty grass of the long walled track which led back to the road.

She heard the stallion’s hooves behind them, then suddenly Lord Wolf was alongside her.

Grinning wickedly at her expression, he rode past and urged his horse through a narrow gap in the wall.