Susan Spencer Paul (7 page)

T
he trip to the Lord of Gyer’s private chamber was becoming a regular journey, Lillis thought the next day as she dutifully followed the servant who had come to escort her. She and Edyth had been woken at an unusually early hour that morn by Aunt Leta, who, in an agitated manner, had told them to rise and prepare themselves, though for what she didn’t explain.

Lillis hadn’t been able to get a word of information out of anyone about the outcome of the fire, though she’d sensed tension and trepidation in every servant who had come and gone in the hours that lapsed between their rising and the summons that finally came from the Lord of Gyer.

The servant and she reached the bottom of the stairs, and Lillis glanced out across the great hall. The sight that greeted her there was totally unexpected. The entire Baldwin family, including the children and the twins, along with what seemed to be the rest of the castlefolk and several villagers, were assembled there. With shock she realized they were all staring at her. Every single one of them. Their expressions were openly curious, as well as condemning, and with a jolt of fright Lillis turned her head and continued on her way after the servant.

Loud, argumentative voices could be heard as they neared the closed doors of Alexander of Gyer’s private chamber, and the servant signaled her to halt. They stood there for some time, listening to the muffled voices that were sometimes pleading, sometimes crying, sometimes yelling, until the doors flew open and Barbara ran out into the hall. Her delicate hands were pressed against her face, so that she did not see where she went, and she stumbled against the wall. She was so distraught and blinded, totally unable to help herself, that Lillis instinctively moved toward her, putting one hand out to support and guide her.

“Lady Barbara, are you well?” she asked with concern, steadying the girl.

Barbara lowered her hands. She swayed momentarily, her wet face a picture of misery, until she realized who it was that helped her.

“You!” she screamed, drawing back and slapping Lillis so hard and suddenly that Lillis was temporarily stunned. She barely had time to realize what had happened before the hysterical creature hit her again, screaming and crying words that Lillis couldn’t understand. Barbara lunged at her with both hands held out, as though to strangle her, but just as suddenly was snatched aside.

“Stop it, Barbara! Stop it!” It was Willem who held the struggling girl, shaking her by the shoulders in an effort to calm her. “Barbara,” he said firmly, “remember yourself.”

Lillis stood dumbly, staring openmouthed at her attacker. Barbara stared back with venom.

“I hate you!” she shouted like an angry child, then ruined the effect with a pitiful sob. “I’ll not let you take what’s mine! I would rather see you dead first!”

This earned her a couple more shakes from Willem. “Be quiet! You don’t know what you say. Take the lady Lillis in,” he instructed the servant who stood close by. “I’ll take care of Lady Barbara.” He dragged the girl away, leaving Lillis staring after them in shock.

“My lady?” the servant asked tersely, causing Lillis to look at him. He eyed her with hostility, as though she’d been the one who’d done the attacking, and motioned her forward with his hand.

Lillis looked at the chamber doors, then squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, crossed herself twice and walked in. The servant shut them behind her.

Alexander of Gyer looked terrible. Once again he stood gazing out one of the long windows, but unlike the day before, his clothes were covered with soot, as were his face and hands. His handsome chin showed evidence of unshaven stubble, and his dark hair was in a state of disorder. He looked as if he hadn’t slept all night, indeed, it was obvious that he’d only just returned to the castle.

“My lord, what has happened?” she asked softly, amazed at the timid sound of her own voice.

He turned to look at her, and Lillis shivered. He was furiously angry, she could see it in his face and in his eyes. He looked ready to do violence.

“Four dwellings were completely destroyed,” he answered with equal quietness. “Several others were damaged. It took most of the night to put the fire out.”

“Was anyone—?” She squeezed her hands together until they hurt.

“Killed?” he finished for her in a menacing tone. “No. Thank God! We thought one of the children had been lost, but she was found safe this morn. Aside from the tragedy it would have been, I hate to think what the people of Gyer would have demanded of me if she had died.” His meaning was very clear. Afraid, Lillis lowered her gaze.

“How did it start?”

“Not Dunsted,” he informed her, taking a few slow steps closer, standing in front of her.

Lillis forced herself to meet his intense glare steadily.

“Are you relieved? You have no reason to be. Did you think that was the reason for the tension you feel about you today? For the angered looks from the people of Gyer? You are wrong, Lillis of Wellewyn. I will tell you why my people want me to hand you over to them so that they can deal out justice as they see fit.” His teeth were clenched and his words seethed out. “The fire was started quite accidentally,” he said, “by a smoking fire. Can you imagine? It should have been a simple matter to put it out with only a few buckets of water. Especially after the rains of the night before. And especially because the Eel River ran practically right outside the door of the dwelling involved. Save that it does not run anymore, does it? Thanks to your loving father, the people who lived in that village had to stand by and watch their homes burn to the ground because they didn’t have sufficient water to put out a small, smoking fire.”

Lillis gazed at him, fighting back tears of both horror and panic. Alexander of Gyer stared at her with growing anger. He grabbed her by both arms and shook her, his voice rising with his fury.

“Don’t you dare to look at me like that!” Each word was punctuated with a shake. “I don’t want your damned sympathy! I have people who no longer have a roof over their heads and winter coming fast on their heels! I’ve just spent an entire night listening to their children wailing and to them worrying and wondering what they will do to survive. And all because of your father. Your beloved father.” He spat the words at her. “So don’t dare to stand there and have tears in yours eyes, Lillis of Wellewyn. I’ve not an ounce of pity left to spare you.”

She tried to shake free, but to no avail. Alexander of Gyer held her fast. “I don’t want your pity!” she cried. “Can’t I feel badly about what happened? I’m not the one who dammed the river!”

“No, you’re not,” he agreed bluntly, releasing her, “but your father did, and you and I are the ones who’ll pay for his sins.”

There was something very final about his words, about the way he looked at her, and Lillis felt a shiver of apprehension.

“What—what do you mean?”

“I mean that I’ve come to a decision, Lillis of Wellewyn, about what I’m going to do with you.”

That stunned her. He certainly seemed angry enough to hand her over to a violent crowd. The thought terrified her, for she knew very well the painful death she’d suffer. Perhaps she had learned how to be brave in the face of a hundred unruly children, but that was the extent of her courage.

“Have you?” she managed to say in a shaking whisper.

“I have,” he said, looking at her directly. “We are going to wed, you and I. The only way that I can get rid of that dam is to have control of the land on which it is built, and the only man who will have control of that land is the man who is your husband. But that man will not be Jason de Burgh, as your father has planned.” He moved closer. “That man will be me.”

* * *

Alexander knew he shouldn’t be seeing her now. He was angry, upset and very, very tired. His emotions had frozen like ice, leaving him with nothing but raw anger. Enraged as he was, he couldn’t be anything but unpleasant to her. But he’d ridden all the way to Castle Gyer, after spending the whole night and some of that morning fighting a fire that wouldn’t stop until it had done its damage, thinking of naught but the decision he’d come to.

They would marry. He and Lillis of Wellewyn. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before. It was the perfect solution. They would marry and he would gain control of the lands that came to her through her marriage. He would tear the dam down, settle matters with Jaward and de Burgh, and then let her go. She could go back to Wellewyn, afterward, if she wished. She could go wherever she pleased.

He’d frightened her that morning, though he hadn’t meant to. He had seen immediately when she’d walked into the room that she was anxious, her face pale and drawn, her eyes circled with the exhaustion of a sleepless night.

It had been wrong to see her after having told Barbara of his decision—a task that had been most unpleasant—so that he’d greeted Lillis of Wellewyn with doubled anger. Now, watching her lovely face contort with shock, he was deeply sorry for it.

“You cannot mean that!” she whispered in disbelief.

“I do. We are going to be married. Tomorrow. There is no other way.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head, staring at him from wide, panicked eyes, “I will not do it.”

“You will,” he assured her without malice, turning and walking toward his working table.

“I’ll
not!
” she cried from behind him.

He turned, leaned against the table and folded his arms across his chest. “You will. If you do not, I will ride against Wellewyn with my entire army and utterly destroy it. I will kill every man, woman and child who crosses my path and I will let my men do whatever they wish with whoever survives. Do you understand what it is that I say?”

She did, he saw. Her eyes widened with horror.

“I don’t believe you,” she murmured. “You are a man of peace. You could not do such a thing!”

Alexander was amazed at how cold he was. It was as though he’d died and someone else now lived in his body, someone filled with anger and weariness. “Yesterday I would have agreed with you, my lady, but today I can think of nothing I would enjoy doing more. You may believe what you will about me, but if you do not believe that I shall do as I’ve said then you condemn the people of Wellewyn to their deaths. This I vow before God.”

“But it—it will not be legal,” she said. He didn’t miss the hopeful note in her voice. She looked at him again, a light in her eyes. “It will not be legal!” she repeated triumphantly. “There is no marriage contract. Without a marriage contract approved by both my father and the king, it will not be legal. The land will not be yours.”

“I have arranged with Father Bartholomew at the monastery for the writing of the marriage contract,” he said. “It will be completed this afternoon, and both you and I shall sign it before witnesses. Tomorrow morn we will have a large wedding and mass, attended by the entire village. You will behave like any other happy bride. You will walk to the altar with me willingly. You will repeat your vows willingly. There will be a celebration feast afterward with music and dancing, and you and I will attend and enjoy ourselves for all to see. The marriage will be consummated on our wedding night. The following day your Edyth will take the evidence of the sheet to Wellewyn, along with the marriage contract, to show Jaward. I should like to see him refuse to recognize the legality of our marriage then.”

He stopped and smiled at the thought of Jaward’s reaction. How he would love to be there to see the old man’s face when he saw the sheet and read the letter that Alexander would send with it. His beloved daughter ruined and forced into a loveless marriage, his plans for destroying Gyer turned back on him. All in one master stroke. It would be worth any price to be able to see it.

“I will also send a copy of the marriage contract to the king requesting his approval,” Alexander continued. “I shall have to supply an appropriate excuse for our breach of the law, of course. Perhaps I will tell him that we had to rush the marriage along so that our future child would not be born less than nine months from the wedding date. Would that suit, do you think?”

If it was possible, Lillis of Wellewyn’s face grew even paler. Her hands trembled noticeably and she stumbled to the nearest chair and dropped into it.

“You are very angry now,” she whispered. “You’re not thinking clearly. In a day or two you will be able to consider what you’re doing, and see how wrong it is. I beg you, Alexander of Gyer, do not do this thing.”

He hoped she was right. He hoped he would be able to feel again soon, to think clearly, to regret what he was doing. She was a beautiful, admirable woman. The very least he owed her was sincere remorse.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, looking away. “I know the situation is—unpleasant.”

“Unpleasant?” she repeated shakily, rising from the chair. “
Unpleasant!
I’ve spent most of my life in a convent, dreaming of the day when I would be free to marry, to have children and a home of my own. Now you say you will force me into an alliance of convenience for the sake of tearing down a dam that I have already sworn I would tear down myself if you would only trust me!” Her voice broke, causing Alexander’s heart to lurch painfully. He could not bring his eyes up to face her. “I know that you love your Barbara,” she continued when she could. “How could you do this to her, as well as to me?”

“You know nothing of my feelings for my cousin,” he returned coldly. “Barbara is young, I will make certain that she is suitably married. It is you and I who will pay the price for our parents’ misdeeds. I will give up the woman I intended to wed and you will give up your dreams. But you need not fear suffering my advances. I’ll not demand my rights as your husband, and I’ll not force you to remain at Gyer and live a lie. Once the land is legally in my hands you will be free to leave, to return to Wellewyn if you wish, though you must remain my wife. You may live as you please, where you please. You will be made an allowance so that you will never lack for money.”

“You are generous, Alexander of Gyer!” she informed him heatedly. “But if you do this thing, you will be making me your lifelong prisoner, complete, will you not? I may be free to live where I please, but I will still be your prisoner as surely as if I were locked away in that filthy room above stairs. I might as well have stayed at the convent! At least it would have been my choice.”