The Lady of Fairhaven (2 page)

And how do you know me?” she asked. Squinting eyes searched for some clue of recognition. Every muscle felt the twinge of fear shiver through from her nose to her toes, but her body stood rigid with stubborn practiced control.

With an air of confidence, the knight slowly removed his helm. The surprise finally registered when she looked at a face so foreign and yet strangely familiar. The features of her grandfather were etched in this man. A few features she could trace to her own.

“
I am your Uncle, dear Gillian, the man your steward sent for after my own dear brother died.”

“
I sent for you, Sir Oliver, but I did not know you would come. It has been so long, and you sent no missive saying that you were on your way. I feared you dead since I have not heard from you for these past 18 months. I could only assume you were some brigand who might do away with us.”

A firm tug on the reigns turned the steed around so the rider could look straight down upon the young woman. But Dog crouched with teeth bared and would not let the horse step any closer.

“
Easy Dog,” Gillian commanded. And while the growling ceased, a low menacing snarl persisted.

“
A good reason why ladies should not go around the countryside without an escort. It shall not happen again if I have anything to say about it,” Oliver warned. “I would be remiss if something should happen to you, my dear niece, while under my care.”

“
I am not accustomed…” Gillian argued before Anne’s nudge in the ribs stopped her words in mid sentence. Her face flushed with embarrassment. “Forgive me Uncle. Let me show you the hospitality of our home.” Gillian dropped to a low curtsy, displaying the respect due the lord of the castle. In her heart she hoped her uncle’s arrival would mark the beginning of happier times. A worry, however, remained in the back of her head that this would not be the case. This was not a good beginning.

By the time Gillian and her uncle passed through the gatehouse, the compliment of castle knights had assembled with weapons drawn to protect their lady. Some men were already mounted and others followed close on their heels. Determined faces of warriors met Gillian’s flushed but blank expression, leaving some doubt as to her condition.

“
My lady,” said the captain of the guard, “Are you well?”

“
Yes, Sir Giles,” Gillian replied. “I’ve had a bit of a surprise. My Uncle, Sir Oliver Blakely, has, after all this time, returned to administer my estate until the terms of my father’s will have been fulfilled.” She turned to her uncle. “Uncle, may I present sir Giles Colby. Sir Giles has been in command of castle protection for as long as I can remember.”

“
I certainly hope you’ve done a better job of it than you did today, Mr. Colby,” Oliver complained. A sneer twisted Oliver’s upper lip into a silent challenge of authority. “If I had been a brigand, Lady Gillian and her maid would have suffered for the lack of protection.” His cold gaze bore into the warrior’s.

“
We have not had the need of late to send protection for those venturing into the village,” Giles stated. His face had turned bright red. It was his responsibility to keep the Lady safe and at this moment in time, he had in a sense failed. “Indeed, all has been calm.”

“
Her protection must be the utmost concern of the guards,” Oliver said. He stared down Giles like an adversary on the battlefield.

“
As it has always been, Sir,” Giles replied. He was not backing down.

“
From now on a guard will travel with the lady,” Oliver asserted.

Giles nodded. “As you wish, Sir.”

“
Uncle Oliver,” Gillian protested. “I’m not accustomed to having an escort and have discouraged Sir Giles from providing one for me.”

“
Nonsense!” Oliver retorted. “What could a silly chit know about such things? It is now obvious to me that my presence here is past due. I intend to right the affairs of the estate. It is evident that the manor is in need of a strong hand that will defend and protect. You need not fear niece.”

Anger flared in a heated splash of color rising through Gillian’s pale flesh. Her eyes lowered to look at her hands, unable to fix her eyes upon her relative without spewing an obvious helping of distaste in his direction. She had no intention of letting her uncle or anyone else witness her impatient temper. The impassive expression memorized so well from years of hiding fear, anger, and grief served her well.

“
Please, Uncle Oliver, let me have Alice show you to your room.”

“
I will take my brother’s chambers,” Oliver declared boldly. He looked back over his shoulder to the small contingent of men awaiting orders.

He never saw Gillian’s eyes grow round with shock at his impertinence. Certainly it was within his rights to select the lord’s chambers, but he was not the lord, just the overseer. And to make a decision without thought to her sensibilities seemed incomprehensible.

Oliver turned back to watch Gillian, and by that time her masked expression was carefully restored. Without another consideration for his niece, Oliver turned to his man and barked out a command, “Bring my things up to my chambers. I wish to bathe before dinner. Make sure Katherine’s belongings are sent up to my quarters as well.”

“
Is Katherine my aunt?” Gillian asked in disbelief. “I had not heard that you had wed, Uncle.”

A gush of laughter burst free. “And so I have not. She is my leman. I have brought her with me since I don’t have the heart to do without her. She will now assume the role of chatelaine of the manor. She is older and will provide strong leadership. She has already requested that she assume the duties.”

Gillian’s gaze turned from one of surprise to icy shock. “That is not within her rights nor yours, Uncle. I have been chatelaine since my parent’s death and wish to remain so. It is my due to claim this responsibility. It was the last wish of my father and mother. Even as my guardian it is not within your power to strip me of my rights as chatelaine. You must inform your leman that you misspoke.”

Gillian forced her mouth to close. Astounded by the turn of events overwhelming her, she responded with an urge to strike out, to fight back. Giles chin tilted in proud respect and subtle defiance of his new leader.

“
I will do no such thing,” Oliver hissed.

He took a menacing step forward. Muscles clenched taught with restrained anger, the older knight bunched his fists so tight his nails sliced into his roughened thick-skinned palms. Dog’s ears lowered once again and a threatening snarl sizzled from between his large ragged edged teeth. In response the castle defenders gripped their sword hilts in readiness to defend the lady of the castle. A ripple of drawn weapons shivered through the line of warriors.

Oliver’s voice lowered to a whisper meant only for Gillian’s ears. “If you want to maintain the position of chatelaine you must fight for it. I will not say nay to my leman. Your life has changed now that I have arrived. Had you not needed a guardian you should not have summoned me. Acting as your guardian I will do what I feel I must to protect this manor and its lands. Do not contradict me again. It will not be tolerated.”

While taking a leman was an accepted practice of the times, the idea that she should share her home with one was beyond Gillian’s ability to comprehend with such short notice. The whole idea would take some time to get used to. But the thought of defending her right to maintain her status as chatelaine was insufferable. Gillian shivered at the thought of this man ruling her life. She also knew it would be dangerous to defy him openly at this time.

“
Very well Uncle, but do not think you can overstep your rights as guardian. The wishes of my parents are to be observed.” Her voice rang clear and loud for all to hear. There would be no whispered threats. Gillian’s boldness surprised everyone within hearing range. She sounded much stronger than she felt. She convinced herself this was not a selfish act. Never had an ounce of defiance coursed through her, but in this brief time, her uncle provoked her beyond tolerance.

“
And so they shall become as mine,” Oliver said. His practiced lack of expression concealed another emotion seething beneath the surface. Schooled to hide his intentions, the steely hint of the chastising look he silently shot in her direction was passed by. Even the fleeting flex of his lips slashing through his handsome features was overlooked. “Katherine will, undoubtedly, be disappointed but will make the best of it. She is a resourceful woman.”

Oliver turned away and ordered to have the rest of the party join them. Two-dozen men in all penetrated the silence of the yard after passing under the portcullis. A simple carriage laden with trunks came to a stop within feet of Oliver and the group assembled with him.

One man opened the door and extended a hand to help the lone occupant. The delicate pale fingers rested lightly on the man’s wrist. Soon an arm, shoulder, and body emerged from the darkened interior.

Katherine was a beautiful woman. In spite of the long trip, her dark gold hair was impeccably styled in a twist that culminated with an intricate combination of braids and cords. Her pale complexion was accented with the scarlet hues reflected from her linen gown, adding just a touch of healthy color to her skin. A bit too much bosom was exposed over her bodice, but her shapely figure would be enticing to any man taking the time to look. And every man in the yard lowered his weapon long enough to take time to examine the twin swells of flesh bursting over the confining fabric. A ruby pendant, nestled in the valley of her breasts, drew attention to the creamy flesh.

Katherine was older and slightly taller than Gillian, which somehow seemed to give her an advantage. Her stature and carriage demanded attention. In spite of her over exposed chest, her dress was stylish and flattering. After a tedious journey, the woman still appeared fresh. Every hair was in place, and a blush colored her high cheekbones. She was a vision of mature beauty.

She moved with the grace of a woman who knew her own body. With an upward tilt of her chin, she stepped forward to Oliver and Gillian. Her curtsy was slight and her head never lowered. Gillian had been slighted. A sharp intake of air from a nearby servant marked the insult.

Her hand reached forward to the keys hanging from Gillian’s waist. “Have you made arrangements for me?” she asked sweetly of Oliver. Gillian stood her ground but clutched the chain in her hand. Anne gasped at her boldness. “Your room is being prepared. Please let me know if there is anything you might require. Cecily will attend you.”

“
I’m sure you would like to bathe and rest before we join Gillian for dinner, Katherine,” he said as his hand gently intercepted his leman’s before contact was made with the keys and drew her slender fingers to his lips. “We will work out the details of our stay with my niece, the chatelaine, in good time.”

“
But, Ollie.” she whined. She fluttered her eyelids in an appealing display meant to entice her lover to condescension.

“
We will work out the details later, my dear,” he soothed.

Katherine’s eyes narrowed dangerously as she looked to Gillian. Any emotions Katherine held seemed exposed for the world to see.

Gillian stiffened and stood firmly ready. For the first time in her life she had adversaries. She would need to learn to deal with them head on.

In his defense, Gillian had to admit Oliver had exercised some restraint in the midst of strong pressure from his lover. Having much practice in schooling her face to hide all emotion boiling around inside, Gillian looked the two in the eye and once again offered them the opportunity to cleanse and rest.

“
Cecily, please show Sir Oliver and his guest to my parent’s room, and provide a warm bath and some food,” Gillian said.

“
But My Lady,” Cecily argued.

“
It is my request, Cecily,” was all Gillian said before she turned and walked as calmly as she could force her legs to obey.

Her role as chatelaine required that preparations for guests must be made, and after directing servants to see to her uncles needs, she busied herself with the tasks of preparing a feast. Every household chore was performed from memory without the requirement of special thought. And it was a good thing too, her mind was too numb to contemplate her future. She had her work cut out for her.

Gillian knew she must prove her ability to run the estate to her uncle. Every detail for the next few weeks would have to be completed to perfection but without seeming like an added burden. Gillian could easily have her authority undermined if the servants became angered by her new demands, while Katherine entices them with false promises of a better life. Her grasp on chatelaine was tenuous at best, and only if she were very clever would she be able to hold on to it.

It was clear from the onset that Sir Oliver had not placed any loyalties to family. God help her, she was alone.

“Dog, for a big brave beast, you seem in need of care during storms,” Gillian said. Her hands stroked the big head that had burrowed deep into her lap. Standing as high as her waist, the brown dog with black muzzle had to lean forward to rest his chin on her legs. He had a particularly striking chiseled square face, but his size was the most imposing feature. And Gillian insisted that when he was with her she could see a smile on his large black wiggly lips.

With her chair pulled close to the comforting fire, the chatelaine sat resting her head wearily against its high back. Absently, her hand stroked Dog’s shoulders and back. Her mind relived the events of the past few months.