Rose of rapture Read online

  Following Lady Shrewton's hasty, ignominous departure, Isabella had written the King to inform him of the Earl's untimely demise and to request guidance in the matter. As she had feared. His Grace had responded that he would send a new warden to take Lord Oadby's place. But as it had, by then, been the dead of winter, and the snow-covered roads had made travel difficult, the girl had surmised the Earl's replacement probably would not arrive until after the spring thaw—or later. In the meanwhile, she had still had several weeks left in which to establish herself as mistress of Rushden; and Isabella had vowed that, this time, she would not be so easily dislodged. She was no longer a child but a woman.

  She had begun by scrupulously going over Rushden's numerous account books to familiarize herself with the state of her brother's lands. It had been the first time the girl had seen the records, which Lady Rushden had kept before her death and Lord Oadby's arrival, and it had taken Isabella over a fortnight just to figure out the system her mother had originally devised and employed; the ledgers had been so altered by the Earl. Nevertheless, the girl had persisted in her task, angered but not surprised when she had finally discovered the extent of Lord Oadby's misappropriations. Afterward, she had written her brother to advise him of the condition of his estate and to inquire what steps he wished her to take with regard to their new warden, whose identity was as yet unknown.

  We cannot allow this new warden to think we are so young

  and ignorant that he may fill his purse with our gold without risk too, 'Sabelle, Giles had written back, and she had realized that, for all his words of encouragement contained therein as well, he was worried also. From what ye have told me, Rushden is still a very rich estate, despite the sums that Lord Oadby embezzled over the years. I shall not see the profits of my inheritance further pilfered by another thief or squandered by a fool. Ye must keep a close watch on this new warden, dear sister. Remember — ye are mistress at Rushden now. If he does aught ye find the least bit suspicious, ye must write to me of it at once. In the meantime, Eadric, Thegn, and Beowulf will know what to do.

  Isabella had glanced at the three faithful knights and shivered. They had not been at all shocked by the manner of Lord Oadby's death. On the contrary, they had admitted having discussed slaying the odious Earl themselves and had actually seemed disappointed that Isabella had inadvertently prevented them from carrying out this scheme. If the new warden proved as dreadful as the old, the girl was certain that this time, the three knights would not hesitate to murder him and dispose of his body without a trace!

  Aye, she had no cause to fear the new warden. She had only to whisper the command, and he would somehow "accidentally" meet his end at Rushden Castle, with none the wiser as to the true manner of his death. Isabella shuddered and grew faint at the thought of giving such a terrible order but knew, if forced to, she would. For all her sweet nature, she could be strong and unyielding if the occasion demanded. Giles was everything to her. He had entrusted his inheritance to her. She would do whatever was necessary to hold it safe. She had assured her brother of that.

  And in response, he had written: Aye, dear sister, I know if need be, ye wouldst even wield a sword for me, though 'twas too heavy for your grasp.

  The girl sighed, closing the account books as the tears, which came quick of late, stung her eyes. Oh, if only her parents had not died, and Lord Oadby and Lady Shrewton had not come to Rushden! For a moment, Isabella wept bitterly with grief for her childhood, then, at the sound of footsteps, hastily dried her tears.

  *'Bcggin' yer pardon, m'lady"—one of the serving maids entered and bobbed a curtsy—"but there be a bit of a ruckus in the cookhouse."

  The girl sighed again as she followed the wench downstairs

  and out into the inner ward of the keep to the kitchen. There was so much to do at Rushden; Isabella had not realized how much until after Lady Shrewton's departure. Perhaps the Countess had not been to blame for her ill nature after all.

  After the difficulty in the cookhouse had been settled, Isabella ordered her horse saddled, intending to ride out to the cemetery, where she now often knelt at her mother's grave, seeking counsel. The upkeep of Rushden was no easy matter, especially for one who had not been properly trained since childhood for such a task; and the girl found her new responsibilities a heavy burden. She wished for an older and wiser head than her own to guide her, but there was none. She alone was now mistress of the castle, as Giles had said.

  "And where be Eadric, Thegn, and Beowulf?" the grizzled master-at-arms. Sir Lindael, questioned when she reached the portcullis.

  Isabella glanced up inquiringly.

  "Why, I do not know, sir. Why do ye ask? I have ridden by myself in the past. Is there some reason now why I should not?"

  "Aye, that there be my lady," old Lindael answered, to her surprise. "Ye no longer be a child, my lady, but a young maid— one old enough to be wedded and bedded," the master-at-arms said bluntly. "And ye be a marriage prize besides. And though ye be the King's ward as well, your warden be dead, my lady; and the times be hard and uncertain. When life is difficult, it does strange things to men, even the best of them. There be many rough lords and knights abroad who might take advantage of your innocence, my lady, noble bom though ye be, and force ye into wedding them to seize your dowry."

  Isabella thought of Lord Oadby and shuddered. He had wanted her—though not as his wife.

  "But—but surely, the King would not countenance a match made in such a fashion, Lindael."

  "He might not, my lady, but then again, he might simply fine your unwanted husband for marrying ye without His Grace's permission. Either way, 'twould not be a pleasant experience for ye, my lady."

  "I—I've changed my mind, Lindael. I'll not be riding out today after all."

  He nodded.

  "'Tisbest, my lady."

  Thereafter, whenever the girl was forced to go beyond the

  castle walls to oversee the estate or to nurse ailing crofters, she was accompanied by no less than twenty-five heavily armed outriders. In addition, the villeins in the fields kept a sharp eye on the land. If there were a man who sought to capture die Lady Isabella and force her to yield to him, he would find it extraordinarily difficult to do so.

  Nevertheless, the girl missed the freedom of galloping over the moors and through the forests. She wondered how the creatures of nature fared without her and was touched when the crofters, suspecting her worry, began to bring injured animals they had found to the keep for her to tend. First, it was an old hound dog belonging to one of the knights, then a bushy-tailed red fox a poacher had attempted to ensnare, then a young deer wounded by a poorly aimed arrow. Had they not been trying to brighten Isabella's spirits, the villeins would have quietly killed these last two beasts and tossed them into the stew pot. The girl knew this and saw that none who delivered the injured creatures to her went away without reward, thereby gaining the love and trust of even the most wary of Rushden's tenants.

  "Have ye decided, my lady?" Alice inquired, rousing the girl from her reverie.

  Isabella looked at the gowns that had been laid out for her inspection and at which she had scarcely glanced earlier.

  "Aye, Alice, I shall wear that one"—she pointed to the most unattractive of the three.

  "But—but. my lady," the nanna protested vigorously, "that dress has always made ye look too pale... washed out, if I may say so, my lady. Ye know the new warden will be arriving any day, perhaps even today. Surely, ye want to make an effort to find favor in his eyes...."

  Regretfully, for she loved pretty things and had possessed few of them under Lord Oadby and Lady Shrewton, Isabella shook her head.

  "Nay, I wish no man to gaze upon me with favor save for two, Alice, and they are not here or likely to be soon, lest Gloucester gives them leave once more to come. The new warden may deal honestly by me and my brother, but then again, he may not. I shall do naught to gain his interest until I determine what sort of man he is. If he harbors no ill plans toward
us, we may be comfortable again. If not, why, then, he will soon feel the bite of steel between his ribs!"

  "Oh, my lady!"

  Alice was aghast. Surely, this was not her gentle mistress, who wished harm to none, speaking.

  Abruptly, Isabella remembered with whom she was conversing. She gave a soft strange laugh that was most unlike herself.

  "Nay, do not fear, Alice. I shall do naught to bring the King's wrath down upon us, but I must take whatever steps are necessary to guard Giles's inheritance."

  And his life, she added earnestly to herself.

  Chapter Nine

  LORD WARRICK AP TREMAYNE, EARL OF HAWK-Hurst, was tired, his temper, foul. He had ridden long and hard beneath the unseasonably warm spring sun, and he had been forced to suffer his younger half brother Caerllywel's teasing jibes the entire journey as well. Warrick wished he had never informed his brother of his new office and betrothal, much less asked Caerllywel to join him at Rushden: for his brother, knowing the Earl had no desire to leave Court and even less wish to be wed, had seized upon these announcements as a means of jabbing at Warrick's pride, which Caerllywel always thought in sore need of a few pricks. Much to the Earl's irritation, his brother had proceeded to set about this task by likening Warrick to a hog farmer and Lady Isabella Ashley, whom neither had ever laid eyes on, to a sow. As, despite the King's comments to the contrary, this was the same mental picture that Warrick himself had sourly drawn, he was not at all pleased by his brother's observations. Thus, though the Earl was relieved to see the towers of Rushden rising ahead in the distance, his ill mood did not abate. "Well, Waerwic"—Caerllywel gave the Earl's name its Welsh pronunciation and grinned broadly, not in the least dismayed by

  his brother's forbidding countenance—"at last, we may discover whether or not Edward has set ye to tending a pig in a poke!"

  Warrick's jaw hardened, for of his three half brothers, Ca-erllywel was the only one who would have dared to taunt him in such a manner—especially in his present frame of mind.

  "If ye value your life, Caerllywel, ye will cease jesting about my bride," the Earl warned. "I do not even know that I will wed the maid."

  "Oh, ye will," Caerllywel rejoined easily. "Ye have too much pride to stomach one of His Grace's whores, Waerwic. 'Twill be your downfall someday, that pride of yours."

  "Well, when that day arrives, ye may gloat to your heart's content," Warrick intoned sarcastically. "Till then, I pray ye hold your tongue, for I am sore tempted to cut it out!"

  "Be my guest, brother, if ye think ye can," Caerllywel said softly.

  The Earl gave him a sharp glance at that but made no reply. Warrick would not have cared to cross swords with any of his brothers, with the possible exception of his youngest brother, Emrys, who was the least adept with a blade. Of the other two', however, his older brother, Madog, would probably kill him, and Caerllywel would certainly stand a fair chance. They had not lived most of their lives in the wild Welsh hills for naught.

  Savagely, the Earl dug his heels into his stallion's sides and galloped on ahead, his brother's laughter ringing mockingly in his ears.

  "I—I came as soon as I found it, m'lady. Be it—be it hurt bad?" "Nay, Wat, I think not." Isabella reassured the lad with a smile as she examined the wounded lamb carefully. "Its leg is broken, but 'twill soon mend if I can but set it properly and keep the poor babe still for a while."

  "Oh, m'lady"—Wat's young face was puckered up dreadfully—"indeed, I—I do not know how I came to lose it. I could

  have sworn the count was right "

  "'Tis naught, Wat. Such things happen, even to the best of us. I am just glad the injury is not worse. 'Tis a wonder the lamb was not killed, falling into such a pit. 'Tis the second one that has been found. Some poacher's trap, no doubt. I shall have Eadric and the others fill it in immediately. Ye will show them the place, Wat. Now fret yourself no longer. If ye had not been so quick to discover the poor babe's absence, searched for it, and heard its bleating, the lamb would have been dead by now."

  "Aye, m'lady."

  "Fetch me that bucket of water over there, and look through that woodpile for a stick that will serve as a suitable splint. Then bring me my unguents and linen strips."

  "Aye, m'lady."

  The lad scampered off to do her bidding while Isabella crooned soothingly to the wounded beast. She was so absorbed in calming the frightened animal, she paid no attention to the commotion outside the castle walls; indeed, 'twas doubtful she even heard it.

  Warrick's dark visage was ominous in appearance. He had called his name to the sentries, stated his authority and business plainly, and had been politely but stoutly refused admittance to Rushden Castle.

  "Mind ye, I'm not saying ye aren't who and what ye claim to be, my lord," Sir Lindael called down from one of the two towers that flanked the entrance to the keep. "But I have my lady's safety to think of, and for all I know, ye might be brigands wishing to carry her off. These be hard and uncertain times, my lord, and there be many ruffians abroad."

  "Poor Waerwic," Caerllywel taunted, his voice choked with muffled laughter, "it seems your swine of a bride is as reluctant as ye. Quick, brother, find out which chamber is hers, and give a hog farmer's call in that direction. Perhaps then she can be induced to let us inside. My throat is well nigh parched from eating your horse's dust."

  The Earl favored his brother with a withering glance.

  "My bride knows nothing of the proposed match between us. Now cease your prattling, fool. God's blood! I do not know why I brought ye with me!"

  "Because ye would have died of boredom otherwise. Really, Waerwic, ye would do well to develop a sense of humor. I'll warrant that frown of yours will send your bride scurrying for her sty—"

  That was as far as Caerllywel got. The next moment, he was flying through the air, then landing with a thud in the dirt, a large dent in his armor from the flat side of his brother's sword. The Earl's men were laughing uproariously, having long endured too many of Caerllywel's sly jokes themselves not to be delighted in seeing him get his comeuppance. Slowly, Caerllywel got to his feet and brushed himself off, still grinning nevertheless, for he knew how to laugh at himself as well as others.

  "I shall repay ye for that low blow, Waerwic," he promised,

  ruefully gazing down at his battered mail. "This was a new breastplate too, damn ye! If your bride turns out to be a beauty instead of a pig, I shall steal her away. Unless she wants for sense, she'll see straight off I'm a much better bargain than ye."

  Warrick, some of his anger having been vented, only snorted.

  "Despite your tall tales of your prowess with wenches, I have yet to lose one to ye," he pointed out.

  "True. Sad but true," Caerllywel agreed, remounting his steed. "I don't know what 'tis the maids find in that ugly mug of yours to attract them. Well, have ye thought of some means to get us inside yet? I'm like to die of thirst."

  The Earl's face hardened once more.

  "Sir Lindael, I shall have your head if ye do not lower the drawbridge, and raise the portcullis at once!" he shouted wrath-fuUy.

  "I'm sorry, my lord, but I cannot. However, I have thought of a plan," the master-at-arms yelled, beginning to let down a bucket by rope from the tower. "If ye will put the King's writ in this pail, I shall have a clerk examine the scroll, and we will determine whether or not ye may be admitted."

  Warrick fumed and cursed mightily under his breath, but it seemed there was naught else to be done.

  "Rhys," he barked sharply to one of his squires, "can ye swim?"

  "Aye, my lord."

  "Then take this writ, and put it in the bucket that damned fool has lowered for our benefit," the Earl snarled sarcastically. "By God, he shall find himself removed from his post and placed in the stocks before this day's end; I swear it!"

  "Do not be too harsh with the man, Waerwic." Caerllywel's voice was suddenly serious. "They may, in truth, have had trouble here, and there is no point in getting started off on
the wrong foot in your new position."

  "When I want your advice, I shall ask for it!" Warrick snapped, but Caerllywel saw the tense muscle working in his brother's jaw relax slightly and was relieved.

  The Earl had a fearsome temper that could frighten even his brother Madog at times. If the young Lady of Rushden Castle were to witness it... Caerllywel shook his head and sighed. Even the wicked Brangwen, who had married Lord Gryffydd and made his life hell, was afraid of Warrick nowadays.

  The Earl waited in silence while the clerk read the contents of the scroll. At last, as Rhys was being hauled, dripping wet, from

  the moat, the drawbridge was lowered and the portculHs raised. Warrick clattered inside and dismounted with an arrogant sweep of his dark brown, gold-lined cloak.

  "Take me to your mistress at once!" he demanded imperiously, his eyes narrowed, his voice cold.

  "But—but, my lord," the master-at-arms protested vigorously, "surely, ye will want to go first to the keep and bathe and—"

  "At once, I said. Do not keep me waiting," the Earl warned grimly. "Ye have already caused my temper to grow most foul by your delays."

  Sir Lindael stiffened. There were not many men who had spoken so to him in his life, and he feared now, despite his earlier hopes to the contrary, that the new warden was going to be as bad as Lord Oadby had been.

  "As ye wish, my lord," the master-at-arms stated, his manner distant and disdainful as he began to lead the way toward the stables.

  "Christ!" Caerllywel groaned, his eyes wide with amazement. "She really does live in a sty!"

  "I said to take me to your mistress," Warrick growled, giving his brother a covert look and glancing around with some uneasiness.

  The faces of the Rushden men were closed, unreadable, and watchful. Was this a trap? The Earl had been informed that his predecessor, Lord Oadby, had lost his life in an unfortunate hunting accident, but perhaps that had been only a tale. Warrick laid one hand warily on the hilt of his sword, beginning to grow faintly alarmed. What on earth would a wench of good breeding be doing in the stables?