Rose of rapture Page 11

  "The Lady Isabella be inside, my lord"—Sir Lindael indicated a half-open door at one end of the stables.

  The Earl stared at the master-of-arms icily.

  "If this is a jest, sir, I find it a poor one," he drawled.

  Sir Lindael drew himself up to his full height.

  "I assure ye I would play no trick on the King's warden, my lord. Ye insult me by the suggestion."

  "Very well then," Warrick declared and strode inside.

  He was so unprepared for the sight that met his eyes that he gasped and stopped short, causing Caerllywel to run right into him. Both men gazed around themselves with astonishment. It was as though they had stumbled into a menagerie, as indeed they had. Birds of every kind twittered and squawked upon perches

  here and there. Three rabbits in cages sat up. noses twitching, at the entrance of the two men. A deer, tied in one comer, bounded and thrashed, startled by the intruders. An old hound dog barked and proceeded to chase a bristly porcupine across the hay-strewn floor. Two cubs romped at the heels of a snapping, bushy-tailed fox in a pen. From the loft, a furr>. one-eyed badger glared down, its long claws showing wickedly. Countless kittens mewed, scattering this way and that when a goal bleated and shook its head, causing the bell about its neck to ding loudly.

  "Dear Lord, Waervvic," Caerllywel whispered, his voice choked with muffled laughter, "can that be your sow?"

  The Earl's eyes fell upon the young maid who sat in the midst of all this cacophony and confusion, a whimpering lamb across her lap. What he could see of her hair was pinned up haphazardly beneath a filthy kerchief, from which tangled strands straggled and that the girl now brushed from her eyes with a grimy hand. Smudges of dirt covered her cheeks and the tip of her nose. The gown she was wearing was of fine muslin, but at first glance, it looked like a rag, for it was spattered with dried blood, some sort of greasy ointment, and what appeared to be—Warrick was almost afraid to sniff and find out for certain—animal dung.

  He swallowed hard, opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, dumbfounded. Only Caerllywel's snigger behind him brought him to his senses.

  "My—my lady Isabella?" The Earl managed to find his tongue at last.

  The girl, intent on binding up the splint she had fashioned for the lamb's broken leg, glanced up irritably.

  "Wat, I thought I told ye.. .Oh, marry-go-up—" she broke off abruptly, staring at the man before her.

  At twenty-five years of age. he was tall and strongly muscled, his body as lithe as a whipcord. From his broad shoulders hung a cloak fastened with rosettes bearing the badges of brown-and-gold hawks, their wings spread, their talons poised to strike. His powerful chest, beneath his white linen shirt and dark brown satin doublet slashed with gold was protected by the only armor he wore, a savage sort of breastplate. From there, his body tapered down to a firm flat belly and a narrow waist, from which hung a gleaming silver sword. His well-formed legs were encased in gold hose. The tops of his high, black leather boots shone glossily in the sunlight that streamed in through the stable door.

  He was handsome enough—in a cold hard way that reminded

  Isabella of the hawks upon his badges, for his hair was a rich tobacco-brown streaked with gold. He wore it parted in the middle and shagged back on the sides in wings. His skin had been bronzed by the sun, weathered by the wind. Above his full, sensual lips, his hooked nose jutted with proud nostrils, flared now at the stables' stench. The set of his lean jaw was sure and haughty, as though he were accustomed to being obeyed—and without question.

  But it was his eyes that caught and held Isabella's attention, for she had never before seen their like. They were a tawny shade of amber, more yellow than brown, lined with thick dark lashes and framed with swooping brows; and they were gazing at her with disgust—and, to her surprise, intense dislike.

  There was an odd, animal magnetism about the man that attracted yet frightened her. Isabella shivered with apprehension, for suddenly, she knew, some way, somehow, that the lord's coming would affect her for all time. She took a deep breath, marshaling her courage. So this was the man who was to guard Giles's inheritance; the stranger could be none other. Well, if he had meant to intimidate Isabella from the start, he had failed.

  "My lady Isabella," he repeated, "I am—"

  "I can guess who ye are," the girl said frostily, matching his own tone of voice. "The new warden sent by the King. Ye are blocking the light, my lord, and, as ye can see, this is a delicate operation"—she indicated the lamb's broken leg. "Please be good enough to go to the keep, as I'm sure that Sir Lindael requested ye politely to do. I don't allow others besides myself in here. They scare the animals, as ye must be aware ye and your men have done. Sir Lindael will attend to your needs quite adequately until such time as I myself can wait upon ye."

  Dismissing him, she turned back to the lamb. For the second time that day, Warrick opened his mouth to speak, then abruptly closed it. He was consumed by ire. By God, how dare the wench talk to him in such a manner—and before Caerllywel too, who would doubtless taunt him unmercifully about it later? The Earl pivoted on his heel and walked rapidly from the stables, shouting orders to his men, his mind on Isabella all the while.

  So that was the maid the King would see him wed and bed. God's wounds! A taking little wench indeed! Damn Edward to hell and back! Well, there was nothing to be done. Warrick would just have to give her a thorough scrubbing and blow out the candles when making love to her; that was all. As for the girl's

  attitude toward him—well, that would change soon enough after he had administered her a few richly deserved slaps for her impudence!

  It was then that the goat, which, unbeknown to Isabella, had chewed through the frayed rope that kept it tied to a post, gave another cry and, bell ringing, head lowered, charged straight through the half-open door and into Warrick's posterior. The Earl, unprepared for such an attack, staggered, lost his balance, went flying through the air, then tumbled facedown upon the cobblestones in the bailey. Instantly, the ward was filled with an ominous silence as everyone stared, horrified. Then, quite pleased with itself, the goat bleated again, tossed its head, and pranced a few nimble steps before scampering off, its bell chiming like laughter in the stillness. Caerllywel turned away, stuffmg the folds of his cloak into his mouiii to smother the peals of mirth that bubbled to his throat. Isabella, horrified and yet seeing the humor of the situation also, was torn between the lamb and the goat and wailed, "Tinker! Tinker, come back!" in a voice that wavered unsteadily before she too succumbed to a badly muffled fit of giggles.

  Several of Warrick's men, regaining their senses at last, ran forward to assist the Earl up. but irately, he knocked away their outstretched hands, rose, and brushed himself off, his face a distorted mask of rage. By God! The ignominy of it all! He had not been at Rushden half-a-day, and already, the wench had succeeded in making a fool of him! Warrick whirled toward Isabella, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Wisely, she lowered her gaze, turning her attention back to the lamb.

  "Madam," the Earl began accusingly, his tone clipped and harsh, "madam, ye did that a'purpose!"

  "Did—did what, my lord?" Isabella asked, trying desperately to retain command of her voice and looking up at him now, eyes wide with pretended innocence.

  "Provoked that goat into assaulting my—my person!"

  "Oh, nay, my lord! I—I assure ye I did not! Indeed. I—I do not know how the wretched beast managed to free itself—Oh, nay!" She suddenly held one hand to her mouth in mortification. "Oh, nay, not again! Oh, my lord—"

  "Waerwic! Waerwic! Look out!" Caerllywel shouted in warning as Warrick snapped around just in time to see the goat charging once more.

  The Earl caught the full force of the animal's blow in his

  stomach. With a loud "Oof!", he sprawled backward into a pile of hay, limbs flailing as he banged his head against one of the bird perches.

  The raven sitting thereon, violently startled, squawked, flapped its wings wil
dly, then croaked chatteringly again, the noise sounding amazingly like a chortle, as it settled back onto its perch.

  "Awk!" it chirruped, then whistled, cocking its head at Warrick quizzically. "Another one down the hatch! Another one down the hatch!"

  At this, Isabella could no longer restrain herself.

  "Oh, Ma—Matey!" she stammered with despair to the sly, mischievous bird, which belonged to a knight who, before coming to Rushden, had spent a great deal of time at sea. "Not—not ye too!"

  Then, much to Warrick's fury, she burst into uncontrollable laughter.

  Isabella lay back in the huge, hammered-brass bathtub and closed her eyes. She had not yet seen the new warden again, although she had learned his identity from a much-rattled Alice. He was Lx)rd Warrick ap Tremayne, Earl of Hawkhurst, said to be one of the King's favorites. Godamercy! There could have been no worse welcome for such a man than the shocking contretemps at the stables.

  Isabella wondered if the Earl would ever forgive her. It seemed doubtful—he had indeed been very angry—but nevertheless, she must try to make amends at once. Otherwise, Lord Hawkhurst might take his unmistakable desire for revenge, which the girl had seen plainly upon his face, out on Rushden. She shivered slightly as she recalled the way those strange amber eyes of his had raked her with distaste. Briefly, Isabella wondered why the Earl had disliked her on sight, even before the disastrous occurrence at the stables. Naturally, he must have been disgusted by her appearance—after all, she had looked a fright—but that did not account for Lx)rd Hawkhurst's initial coldness to her. At last, unable to think of any reason why the Earl should hold her in contempt (apart from the awful incident with the recalcitrant goat and the impertinent raven), Isabella gave up trying and called for Alice.

  "Aye, my lady?"

  "Lay out my sea-green gown with the little cap, please."

  "Aye, my lady."

  Alice beamed, relieved. After the highly awkward and unfortunate meeting this morning, she had feared that Isabella had decided to continue her scheme for appearing as unattractive as possible. Now, it seemed perhaps Lord Hawkhurst's dark, handsome visage had caused the girl to change her tactics. She always looked especially beautiful in that particular dress.

  Indeed, Isabella could not have been more lovely as she descended the main stairs to the great hall below. The sea-green silk was shot through with silver thread, bringing out the silvery highlights of her pale blond hair, which shimmered, unbound, to her hips. Cut low at the bodice, the gown showed a generous display of Isabella's ripe breasts, offset by the many slender, fragile-linked silver chains she had draped around her neck. A silver filigree girdle encircled her waist; its jeweled dinner knife gleamed in the soft candlelight. The dress itself fell in gentle folds to the floor; the tight sleeves, which ended in points upon her wrists, were complemented by her silver surcoat. The little sea-green cap, fringed with silver bangles, sat close upon her head. The coloring of the costume served to make the grey-green of Isabella's eyes stand out like twin oceans in her face, and she seemed more wraithlike than ever, appearing to glitter as she walked.

  Warrick and Caerllywel stared at her with amazement as she moved toward them slowly, gracefully, from across the hall. Surely, this could not be the same filthy, ragged maid they had seen in the stables earlier, who had so insultingly laughed at the antics of the goat and raven and unwisely kept both men idly waiting all day—no doubt afraid to face Warrick after the injury to his pride and posterior! Isabella fluttered an enchanting curtsy, holding out one slim hand to first the Earl, and then his brother.

  "My Lord Hawkhurst"—she smiled, showing even white teeth that shone like pearls—"and Sir Caerllywel—have I pronounced that correctly? The Welsh tongue is difficult to command, I understand, and, alas, I have not been trained in the language."

  "Ye said my name more beautifully than I have ever before heard it spoken, my lady," Caerllywel told her, his eyes appraising her with open admiration, despite his brother's frown.

  "My lord"—Isabella turned back to the Earl—"I'm afraid I owe ye an apology for the manner in which my brother's men and I greeted your arrival. We had not expected ye so soon, and since the King, in his letter, did not apprise us of the new warden's identity. Sir Lindael, fearing for my safety, was perhaps over-zealous in his duties. I wish ye will not judge him too harshly.

  I myself was concerned for the lamb and hope I can make amends for my earlier rudeness and the—the terrible mishap in the stables."

  This was all said sweetly, without guile or suppressed amusement, but Warrick, to whom nothing in life had ever come easily and who was therefore suspicious of everyone and everything, was not deceived. The wench wanted something from him. What was it?

  "Of course, my lady," he droned, his eyelids lowered so she could not guess his thoughts.

  His reply was not encouraging, but despite his ill humor, Isabella forced herself to continue to smile as they made their way to the high table for supper.

  All through the evening meal, she chattered to both men with a brightness that hid her despair, for although she rapidly won Caerllywel's affections, the Earl remained silent and distant. Still, Isabella persisted, for it was important to her to know Lord Hawk-hurst's thoughts toward herself, Giles, and Rushden.

  "Have ye ever been a warden before, my lord?" she inquired curiously, reaching for the thick yellow butter and spreading some upon a slice of rich, crusty bread.

  "Nay, but I have been well informed of my duties," the Earl answered tersely, his mouth turned down sardonically at the corners as he remembered, with distaste, the King's orders.

  "Ye—ye do not relish the position," Isabella stated, her eyes suddenly wide with apprehension, her spirits faltering: for if such were the case. Lord Hawkhurst would doubtless be apt to deal harshly with her and her brother. "My lord, I—I know ye are angry about what happened this morning, and rightly so, but I pray ye do not judge me and mine too sternly for it. I—I assure ye that Giles and I will not be a charge on ye, my lord. Indeed, ye will scarcely see my brother, as he is fostered to my lord Duke of Gloucester; and—and the estate is well run. Ye will have only to determine that the revenues paid to the King are fair "

  Her voice trailed off at the glint in his golden eyes. She shuddered. The way the Earl was looking at her reminded her of the way a hawk gazes fiercely at its prey before ripping its hapless victim to shreds. Even so, there was something more in those amber eyes as well—a mocking appraisal that made Isabella feel as though she were little better than a slave upon a block, to be bought—and bedded—by Lord Hawkhurst if and when it pleased him.

  She turned away, sipping her wine in the tense silence and trying to still the quivering of her fingers upon the chalice. When

  she spoke again, it was to Caerllywel, who squeezed her hand briefly under the table. Isabella gave him a grateful smile, thereby missing the dark, threatening glance the Earl threw at his brother.

  Caerllywel only grinned and leaned closer to whisper in Isabella's ear.

  "Do not mind Waerwic," he said. "He is wroth because the King sent him here instead of keeping him at Court, where my brother wished to remain. That is all," Caerllywel lied without qualm. "It has naught to do with ye, my lady, despite the unfortunate occurrence at the stables. Waerwic's ire will cool soon enough—for 'twas only his damnable pride that was injured— and ye will see he is not truly such an ogre as he pretends."

  Though still uncertain of this, Isabella breathed a small sigh of relief.

  "I—I did not know. I thought perhaps he—he might bear a grudge against me and wreak ill upon Rushden for it. Marry-go-up. I shall never forget the look on his face when he strode from the stables. He was so angry, I feared he would strike me! I should not have laughed so; 'twas indeed too bad of me. I am' not usually so unkind, but—but, oh, 'twas funny."

  "Aye, indeed, 'twas, my lady. Do not fear. Though he may be mad for a time, I assure ye that Waerwic will not deal injuriously with ye and yours nevertheles
s. That is not his way. He is hard and arrogant and ofttimes cruel, but he is seldom unjust— stubborn perhaps but rarely unfair. He will not bleed your brother's estate for any real or imagined slights—if that is what ye fear."

  "I—I was afraid Giles has entrusted Rushden to my care,

  ye see, and I do not take my responsibilities lightly, sir. 1 know that Lord Hawkhurst and I got off to a most miserable start, but I had hoped to make amends—" Her voice trailed off, and Isabella bit her lip.

  "And so ye have, my lady. Twice, this day, I have discovered myself dumbfounded at the sight of ye." Caerilywel spoke more loudly, his eyes warming with amusement and desire.

  Despite herself, Isabella smiled, her fears temporarily abating.

  "I can only hope 'twas because ye found my appearance so improved the second time, sir. 'Twas indeed too bad of ye to invade my menagerie and frighten all my animals. Indeed, now that I think of it, ye are to blame for what occurred this mom!"

  "Oh, come, my lady. Surely, ye jest. We did no more than walk inside—"

  "Aye, but nevertheless, 'twas the sight of ye that provoked the goat so. Usually, he is the gentlest of creatures—"

  "Oh, come, my lady!" Caerllywel repeated.

  "Well, I must admit that Tinker has a great dislike for cloaks, sir. Ye see, when he was young, some of the lads thought 'twould be a good jest to bundle him up in a blanket so he couldn't see. Naturally, the poor beast ran about wildly, quite blind with terror, and the nasty imps yelled and beat him with stout sticks on top of it all to prod him along. 'Twas very mean of the boys, of course, and they were severely punished for the prank, but the damage had been done. Tinker was dreadfully frightened and never recovered from the shock of the incident. Now he is ready to attack anything even remotely resembling a blanket. That is why I keep him in the stables."