Chapter 15
Serena woke to a pounding in her head and a gnawing hunger in her belly.
The dim morning light pierced the narrow opening in the bed curtains.
Still groggy, she could barely discern with her half opened eyes what seemed strange about her surroundings.
After a moment, she sat up and pulled wide the curtains, startled to realize she was not in her bedchamber, nor in her bed.
She had never before seen this room with its stone walls, arched window and high timbered roof.
Where am I, and how did I get here?
Moments later, a knock sounded at the wooden door. Before she could say aught, it opened to reveal an older woman with graying brown hair wearing a servant’s tunic. The woman entered carrying clothing Serena recognized as hers.
“My lady, ’tis time ye were up. Earl Morcar has been asking for ye.”
Relief swept over Serena. Not a Norman then. She dropped her feet over the side of the bed. “Earl Morcar?”
“Yea, my lady, ye were brought here last night.”
“Where is ‘here’ good woman?” Rubbing her temples helped the pounding in her head to subside. Why would Morcar take her from Talisand and without telling her beforehand?
“Oh, do ye not know? Why, ye are at Adlington, my lady, Earl Edwin’s manor in Mercia.”
“M…Mercia?” Serena stammered. She had been abducted from her bed and taken south to Mercia? “Why was I brought here?”
“For that ye’ll have to ask the earl, my lady. I know only what I’ve been told. My master, Earl Edwin and his brother Morcar await ye below.”
Edwin? Morcar? They abducted her?
Serena rose, vaguely aware she was still wearing the garment she had worn to bed.
Was it only the night before? She walked to the side table feeling the chill on her feet from the stone floor.
The woman had set out a bowl of water and a drying cloth.
As she stood before the bowl, a swirling mist filled her mind like a remnant of a bad dream and her temples ached.
Why was she so addled? Had they given her a sleeping potion?
She tried not to think who might have seen her in her nightclothes.
Splashing water onto her face, she began to feel more herself.
She patted her skin dry. The servant replaited her hair.
Without a word, the woman efficiently helped her into the pale green undertunic and leaf green gown.
The belt at her waist was a simple one of leather woven through a chain.
Whoever had arranged this had even remembered her hose and leather shoes, which she was happy to have.
Through the shutters of the window, which the servant had opened, Serena looked out onto rolling hills, green with the rains of summer, stretching far into the distance.
Grazing sheep dotted one slope. It was not so different from Talisand.
But the why of it was confusing. What did the brother earls intend?
When she was ready, she followed the servant from the room. The old woman gestured to the stairs and then left her. Slowly Serena descended, pausing when she heard men’s voices coming from a room off the main entry.
“You may go, Sir Hugue. I will advise you when your talents are needed again.”
Sir Hugue? She recognized Morcar’s voice as the one speaking, but why would the Norman mercenary be here? Had he been the one who’d abducted her from the manor? A myriad of questions arose in her mind as the Norman knight strode through the entry never seeing her standing on the stairs above him.
Another voice from beyond the doorway said, “At least you should ask Serena if she would have you, Morcar. She is a lady after all, not some wench you can grab in the night and do with as you please.”
“I am fully aware of Lady Serena’s status, brother.
But why should I seek her approval? Have I not spared her a Norman’s bed?
Nay, I will not ask. I have brought Lady Serena here to wed, and I shall.
You know as well as I that before he died her father had warmed to my suit.
I have no doubt he would prefer a Mercian earl to one of William’s knights were he here to consult with.
What I plan for Serena is obviously the right path. She will be willing, I’ve no doubt.”
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Serena took a step forward, bringing herself into view. Morcar raised his head from where he sat at the table across from his brother. Both men stood.
“My lady,” said Morcar. From his expression, Serena judged him delighted. “How good it is to see you and looking so well! You have grown more beautiful than I remember, and I remember quite well how very fair is the Lady of Talisand.”
Flattery had never meant so much to Serena as sincere affection. She did not even blush, knowing Morcar’s words were calculated to appease her.
The two Mercian men, each with shoulder length blond hair and beards, one an older version of the other, gave her a studied look as she walked toward the table set with an array of food. In the center was a bowl of fruit, reminding her of her hunger.
“Why am I here?” she said impatiently. “You did not extend a proper invitation nor allow me to travel as I might, but dragged me from my bed in the night. Judging from how little I was aware and my aching head, I’d say I was given a potion.”
Finding his voice, Morcar offered, “Soon, I will explain. But first, allow my brother Edwin to welcome you to his home.”
Serena had met both Morcar and Edwin on their visit to Talisand when Morcar was still the Earl of Northumbria and recalled the older brother as possessing a gracious nature, more mellow than his younger sibling.
Edwin bowed before her. “My lady, ’tis an honor.”
“My lord,” she said with a faint smile, not extending her hand, “except for the manner of my coming, I would have been happy to see you. But I cannot act as if this is merely a pleasant visit. I was abducted from my bedchamber! I must know why.” Having heard their conversation, she had a fair understanding, but she asked to see if they would tell her a different tale.
“First, I would offer you a morning meal.” Morcar gestured toward the table heavy with trenchers of food. “I imagine you are quite hungry. And is it not a better way to begin our discussion?”
Reluctantly, she took the seat Morcar offered her.
Though she was anxious to know of their plans, she had to admit she was famished.
Taking some fruit and bread onto her trencher, she smiled inwardly at the irony of it.
All the times she had wanted to escape the Red Wolf, yet when she had finally come to think that her duty, if not her heart, required her to remain at his side, here was escape set before her as if served up on a platter.
In addition to the fruit, the table was laden with cooked pork, eggs, and bread and butter.
A male servant poured mead into goblets and, raising the drink to her lips, she sniffed the golden liquid to see if she could detect any unexpected odor.
But there was only the sweet scent of honey and familiar spices.
Seeing her do this, Morcar apologized. “I’m sorry, my lady, for the potion given you. It was thought best for the secrecy we needed that you should have no voice to question my men. There was no time for explanations in our rescue.”
“Rescue? From Talisand? Surely you jest.”
“Nay, my lady, not a rescue from Talisand,” his voice rang with sincerity, “but from the Norman who now holds it.”
“Ah, I see,” she said considering his words as she toyed with the food on her trencher. She supposed she did understand. After all, she had thought to escape the dreaded Normans herself. “But you did not think to warn me?”
Earl Edwin interjected, “We thought it best if you were unaware of our plans.”
“And the guard? You did not harm him?” She was concerned for the faithful Sir Niel, whose lord would not be pleased that she had vanished beneath the young knight’s watchful eye. If Sir Hugue was involved, after the punishment he had received, he might have been cruel to the Red Wolf’s men.
“No one was hurt, my lady,” said Edwin. “More than one guard received the same herbs as you in his ale. And, just as you did, all will recover.”
Serena’s memory of Aethel serving her ale in the hall came to her mind. Was Aethel trying to rid herself of a rival? Did the herb woman think to take her place in the Red Wolf’s bed if Serena were to wed another?
“I can explain,” said Morcar.
She waited while he took a drink of his mead and set down the silver goblet fingering the carved design as if contemplating carefully his next words.
“You see, word came to me William was going to give you to one of his Norman knights. I was certain you would want to avoid such a marriage. I had asked for your hand when your father, the thegn, still lived. He was favorable in his comments to me. If not for Hastings, we might be wed ere now. I have sent a message to your brother in Scotland, but as yet have heard nothing. It seemed only right we should carry out what would certainly be your father’s wishes. ”
Serena watched the emotions playing across the face of the handsome Mercian who, according to all she had heard, was well liked by the people of Northumbria.
Morcar was Steinar’s age, only a few years older than she.
And while Serena would not have objected had her father betrothed her to him, she was unsure if her father would have done so.
Though Morcar likely did express what would have been Steinar’s wishes had he known of the matter.
Offered the chance, would she wed the Mercian?
How could she do so when her heart longed for the Norman knight whose expression was ever stern but whose kisses deprived her of breath?