The Lady of Fairhaven (3 page)

While she rested, she could hear the frequent crashes of thunder outside. A storm of enormous proportions was passing through the area. Candlelight paled as the flashes of lightening bolts striking the earth lit the sky. With every strike, Dog whimpered slightly and hid his head under Gillian’s hand. Too many bolts to count made the dog’s flinching continuous.

Anne sat near the glow of the fire laboring over a particularly intricate piece of handwork. The light was better close to the fire and warmer too.

As the night wore on, the lightening flashes were followed ever more closely to the thunderous crackling. Now, the sounds broke almost instantly with each flash. Gillian felt sure some stones in the walls of the manor were being hit. It wasn’t safe to venture outside to find out which ones were damaged.

Gillian worried about the village. Certainly a few strikes inside its borders were inevitable. And with the intensity of this storm, she feared the whole village might be lost. A quiver worked its way up her spine.

The sound of footfalls broke Gillian’s reflections, and her head snapped up. The two entered the great hall and made their way toward her. Oliver’s elbow was extended and Katherine’s delicate hand wove around it and perched lightly on his forearm. Standing at five foot eleven, he looked down on many and towered over Gillian. Although considered tall at five foot four, she reached only his chin, and he nearly doubled her weight. His body was like that of a giant oak, thick of neck and limbs.

As if on cue, Dog’s head raised and a continuous low deep warning ground out as his mind was occupied beyond the storm. “Easy, Dog,” Gillian soothed. The animal ceased its complaint, but observed Oliver with interest and breathed heavily as he watched the intruder move through the room. Never since the man arrived at Longmore had Dog been accepting or even tolerant of his presence.

Anne shifted nervously in her seat. Her body stiffened as the two walked arm and arm into the hall. She had seen many of these petty confrontations.

“
Why must that beast be allowed in the living quarters?” Katherine asked.

“
He is my pet and companion,” Gillian replied in the sweetest of tones she had cultivated over the past months.

“
He’s a filthy beast, and I want him removed immediately,” Katherine hissed. “A dog is not a companion. A person is a companion. Perhaps you are unskilled at obtaining true companions and must satisfy yourself with an animal.”

“
I regret you feel that way. As long as I am here, Dog will stay with me,” Gillian declared stoically. In the months since Oliver had arrived, the tension between them had been steadily building. His impatience could only be characterized as ungentlemanly and her response as unladylike.

“
Well, that is what I want to discuss with you, Gillian,” Oliver said with a smile.

Both Oliver and Katherine then looked at each other, and Gillian prepared herself to receive the outpouring of thoughts the two were spinning in their heads. When they both looked again at Gillian, Katherine’s triumphant smile nearly blinded her.

Oliver’s upper lip curled as he spoke, “Well, not a companion exactly, although some may believe it to be so. I believe I have found a suitable match for you.”

At his words every muscle in Gillian’s body tensed, but somehow the thought of marriage without any knowledge of the intended groom sapped every ounce of strength away. If she hadn’t been sitting in a chair, her knees would have given way. A dizzy fog enveloped her, and she sat motionless for several moments, blocking the flight or fight instinct that had first assailed her.

“
A lord of noble bloodlines has shown some interest in taking you to wife,” Oliver crowed. “It has taken some negotiations on my part, but I believe it will be a suitable match for you both.”

“
Who is this man?” Gillian asked with anger and fear mixed in her voice. “I did not know you had put me up to bid.”

“
You might even know him. It is Lord Phillip Thornburgh,” Oliver answered as if her sarcasm was unnoticed. “His lands are not far from here.”

“
The only Thornburgh I know is a man who was my father’s friend. In truth, his age might pass him off as my father.”

“
You know him then!” Oliver chuckled perversely. “He will look after you and in turn your land will add to his holdings and his taxes. You will thank me for my consideration, niece. A man of experience might not rush to bed you like some bitch in heat.”

“
How dare you speak to me thus,” Gillian shouted. Her cheeks bloomed with scarlet indignation. Instantly angered, she flew out of the chair and stood to face her uncle. Her neck angled back as she struggled to meet his gaze. “Why did you not speak with me about this arrangement before?”

Dog snarled in earnest and took a threatening step toward Oliver. A click of snapping teeth forced Oliver back one step. Anne sprang to her feet and restrained the animal. Dog rumbled low and deep under the maid’s protective grasp.

“
I am speaking to you now. And from your reaction it is a good thing you were spared the negotiations. Clearly, it would be unseemly for a female to negotiate a marriage.” Oliver’s anger was overshadowed by the delight shown by his leman. He glanced warily at the dog. “It is my place to make the arrangement, and it is your place to obey. The choice is mine, and I have selected an eligible match. Be glad you are not destined to wed a rakehell, or worse yet die an old maid.”

“
I will not marry him,” Gillian countered angrily. Her hands came defiantly to her hips.

Twisted pleasure turned to a flash of anger. One swift stroke of Oliver’s meaty hand caught Gillian on the cheekbone, and she flew with its force down hard against the stone surface and slid across the rush covered slate stones of the great hall. Her head struck the table leg. Unconscious, the young woman lay still on the cold surface.

Anne gasped and dashed for her friend, but Oliver’s hand gestured for her to stay back. Dog lurched forward with a vicious snarl, but only caught a fang in the velvet coat instead of sinking into flesh. Oliver’s arm swung back and as the dog disengaged it ripped the fabric, releasing the animals grip. The dog flew through the air and landed on its side, skidding along the floor.

Witnessing only the blow, Giles advanced on Oliver with an expression of cold fury.

“
Stand fast!” Oliver demanded. “Correction and punishment of defiance is well within my rights as her guardian. If you desire to stay in your position here, you will leave our family dispute alone. Leave us now!”

Giles now crossed over to where Gillian lay. “You are wrong, Sir,” Giles said. “My allegiance is to the Lady. And if you were not her Uncle, you would be dead by now.”

“
You would dare stand in my way?” Oliver shouted. “I am her guardian.”

“
And it would be a fitting epitaph on the stone that covers your grave,” Giles said. And before you think about calling your friends, remember this, I earned my knighthood on the field, not from an inheritance.”

Oliver said nothing. He knew the man was right. But he was still determined to not back down. Both men’s attention was quickly diverted, however, as Gillian began to move. Her hand came up to her head, but she sat still on the cold stone floor. Dazed, her feet moved to grip a spot beneath her, but her heels worked for naught. Fuzzy thinking prevented enough correction to get upright.

Sir Giles outstretched hand provided enough stability for the chatelaine to stand. His hand rested at her waist, prepared to rescue in case she should topple. And sway she did. Her head wobbled and her body followed. Gillian leaned into the knight.

“
Leave us and take this, this beast with you. Put him in the pens where he belongs,” Oliver added. “I do not want to see him in the hall as we dine.” He had no desire to have another knight witness his family business.

“
No!” Gillian cried. “He can’t stand the thunder.” Her eyes pleaded with Giles. She took one step but swayed again. Dog growled again at Gillian’s cry. “Easy now, Dog,” she soothed. If Dog attacked Giles in order to stay with her, she might never see him again. “Go on Dog.” A trickle of blood coursed down her shoulder from the cut on her head.

“
I should not leave you,” Giles insisted.

Unaware of the exchange between the two men, Gillian soon recognized the hatred in both their eyes. Not wanting anything to happen, Gillian took Gile’s hand in hers and gently said, “Please go now. I’m sure my uncle and I can work this out.

Still, Giles would not move.

Oliver watched Gillian. The despair he read in her face pleased him. Tears of anger and frustration slid down her cheeks. Oliver learned much. Gillian could be manipulated if the stakes were high enough.

Deciding that he had taught his niece a lesson and not wanting a fight, Oliver said, “Gillian, we are at the end of this conversation. There will be no further talk of it. I have considered what is best for you and you will do as I say. Go on now. I am sure you are tired and desire to rest. When you think on this some more you will see I have made the best decision.”

Gillian nodded. A steady stream of tears coursed down her cheeks as she and Anne locked arms and made their way up to her room. Giles waited outside her door with Dog until he was satisfied she was safely attended. At last he led the dog to a pen outside.

Anne ordered a glass of wine and a bowl of cool water. The cut on the back of Gillian’s head stubbornly refused to stop bleeding at first. Before the maid could staunch its flow, trails of blood spotted the young chatelaine’s gown making it unfit for wear, but the pliancy of wine dulled its import.

Gillian then applied the cloth to her swollen cheek in hopes of keeping the swelling to a minimum. The dangerous relationship with Oliver had taken a turn for the worst. He had crossed the line of physical abuse, and Gillian feared he would use it on her again.

Sleep eluded Gillian throughout the night. Endless tossing and turning exhausted her body and her mind. But she had to remain strong for the servants and the villagers. They needed her, and she was determined not to allow her uncle to get in her way. She also wanted to make sure Giles would not be hurt or killed. Anne had told her what he had done and Gillian knew that Oliver would never face Giles again without someone else at his side. Around midnight she had insisted Giles get some rest. She convinced him she would be safe. Her door was thick and had a heavy bolt. He had reluctantly left.

Gillian arose early the next morning and left the manor without telling Oliver. She was determined to deny hr uncle any chance to continue his bullying. Her first stop was the pen where Dog had been imprisoned. Giles had convinced Gillian that confining Dog might appease her uncle.

Cowering in the back, Dog’s body trembled until he heard the sound of her voice. Unlocking the latch, Gillian freed the animal, and he nearly upended her as his face pushed insistently against her body. His tongue lavished kisses on the palm of her hand.

“
Hurry Dog before we get caught. And don’t make any noise,” Gillian whispered.

The two rushed outside the gate and headed toward the village. A distant wisp of smoke hurried their progress. Gillian knew the cause of the fire. She only prayed that the damage had been limited.

Once inside the village, the charred remains of the smith’s building came into view. With little thought of appearances, Gillian ran to the smoldering ruin. Many villeins had gathered to witness the final efforts to salvage belongings.

The smithy stood a short distance from the debris looking at all that had been his. Clearly he had fought all night to save not only his hut, but also those around. He had no distinguishing mark or blemish save the dark charcoal that covered every inch of his person. He stopped his work to bow to Lady Gillian. His hands were bleeding and blistered.

“
The early morning rain stopped the spread of the fire, My Lady,” the smithy whispered. “We were lucky it didn’t take the whole village. The lightning was something fierce.”

“
Mr. Pratt, I’m so sorry. Is there anything you were able to save?” Gillian asked.

“
Most of my tools are still usable. We lost only our personal items.”

“
Let me help with the rebuilding and supplies to help you manage until you have recovered,” the chatelaine offered. The supplies would come out of some surplus stores. She felt secure her uncle would never know.

“
I’m most grateful, My Lady,” he replied.

“
Come to me Mr. Pratt so that I might tend to your hands,” Gillian demanded.

“
I am well enough, thank you, My Lady,” Mr. Pratt said.

“
I have come to help. Would you deny me?” she asked with a smile. She knew it would be difficult for the man to deny her when put like that. “Your hands will feel more like work after they have had some salve and bandages applied. And certainly there are others who might be able to assist in your work. It is certain that your labors have saved the village.” She turned to the villeins standing around and announced. “I am certain some grateful individuals can lend Mr. Pratt a hand.”

At the end of the day, Gillian sat in her room with Dog curled up in front of the roaring fire. Delivering supplies to the Pratt’s had taken several trips on foot, but she couldn’t risk anyone seeing a cart leave the castle. Unless she had cleared her mission of charity with her uncle, she would run the risk of his stern disapproval.