Chapter 17
By the time their cavalcade arrived at Talisand, a host of people had gathered to meet them.
Maggie was one of the first to approach, a worried look on her face. Her eyes scanned the horses crowding the yard. Alighting on her daughter, carried in Sir Maurin’s arms, she screamed, “Cassie!”
Sir Maurin gently handed the girl to the waiting Sir Geoffroi and Sir Niel, who had dismounted and come to his aid.
Serena dropped from her horse and watched the knights. Maggie ran to Serena as the men carried the handmaiden into the manor. “I will tend her myself, Maggie. Fetch Aethel and tell her to bring the herbs.”
“Cassie was supposed to be at the west manor,” Maggie said, her voice desperate. “What happened?”
“She and Rhodri came after me. She was stabbed with a knife.”
“Who would do such a thing to me lass?” The cook’s green gaze followed the knights as they carried Cassie through the front door of the manor. “Will she recover?”
“’Tis serious, Maggie, but I pray not fatal. I can explain later what happened. Right now I must make sure the bleeding has not begun again.”
Serena followed the knights into the manor and directed them to take Cassie to Serena’s bedchamber. Sir Maurin followed and now stood by the bed looking down on the unconscious girl. Cassie’s skin, usually glowing with health, was nearly colorless, a stark contrast to her flaming red hair.
“Sir Maurin, I ask you to leave us alone for a time. I must undress her and see to the wound. I will call you when I have finished.”
He nodded. “I will be waiting downstairs, my lady.” He turned to go. Serena had never seen the knight looking so forlorn.
As he reached the door, she said, “I will do my best, Sir Maurin. I know you care for her, as do I.”
“Aye, I do,” he said and left, closing the door behind him.
Aethel came in after the knight departed, her satchel of medicines and herbs with her. “Maggie is half out of her wits,” said Aethel. Then seeing the handmaiden lying as still as death, she asked, “What happened to her?”
Serena looked up from where she was carefully cutting away Cassie’s tunic. “You are not the first to ask. We were in the woods, on our way back to Talisand when the mercenary, Sir Hugue, found us.”
“The knight who attacked Eawyn did this?”
“Yea. He is now with Morcar, who I doubt is aware of the snake he shelters.”
Aethel, Serena noted, did not looked surprised at the tidings.
Since Serena had worked with the herb woman before to tend the sick and wounded, they now quickly fell into their prior routine. Serena prepared the wound and Aethel took from her bag the herbs she would apply. As they worked, they talked.
“Ye came back, m’lady,” Aethel said.
“Yea, I did. Did you doubt I would?”
“I thought ye wanted to leave.” Serena watched the herb woman’s dark eyes carefully, noting the sincerity.
“Once that might have been true, Aethel, but no longer. I meant what I told the people of Talisand. I am their lady and I will wed the Red Wolf. Earl Morcar wanted to marry me but that was not my will. Were you not aware I was resigned to becoming the Norman’s wife?”
“Nay, I thought ye would be happy to leave. Happy to wed the English earl.”
“I know you were a part of it, Aethel.” Then looking down at Cassie, “But you see where Morcar’s abduction has led.”
“I am deeply sorry,” said Aethel. The woman looked contrite.
“If you are, Aethel, then end your traitorous behavior and help me to care for the people of Talisand.”
“Aye, m’lady, I will.” Her dark eyes filled with tears.
“Then I will protect your secret.”
While Serena would keep a careful watch on the woman, she would give her the chance to change. How could she do less when her own heart had changed from wanting to flee the Normans to wanting to wed one?
Before they finished, Maggie rushed in to check on her daughter. Assured Cassie was doing well, she kissed her daughter’s forehead and hurried out to see to the returning men.
Serena rose from Cassie’s bedside. “I must speak to Sir Maurin.”
“I will sit vigil through the night,” Aethel volunteered.
* * *
“Can I believe her?” Renaud asked Geoff as they ate the evening meal. He had watched Serena ascend the stairs, knowing she went to tend her handmaiden, and he had wondered then if she was back to stay.
“Only time will tell,” said Geoff. “Her tale was plausible. If Morcar and his brother seek vengeance on William, what better way to exact it than to rob one of his knights of his bride, as Edwin claims he was robbed of the king’s daughter?”
“A foolish thing for Edwin and Morcar to do if it happened as she says,” replied Renaud, still angry at having to track his bride through the woods.
Maugris, who sat with them, leaned in to whisper. “Men behave foolishly when it comes to beautiful women.” He sat back, his wizened face crinkling in a smile.
“Indeed they do,” said Geoff with a chuckle, “especially if they can cook.”
“The both of you too easily excuse a man’s folly that nearly deprived me of my bride,” said Renaud impatiently. “And now I have the mercenary to contend with again.”
“Aye,” agreed Maugris. “That one is worthy of your vengeance.”
Renaud still seethed at the knowledge the mercenary had been a part of stealing Serena. The bard had posed no obstacle to Sir Hugue’s evil intent. Would Serena have been the mercenary’s next victim had he not run at the sound of their horses?
He had mixed feelings about Serena’s sincerity. She seemed firm in her conviction to wed him yet he knew from William’s court that betrayal could come from one who feigned loyalty.
He had been eager to bed her when she was a mere servant with dull brown hair and dressed in an ill-fitting tunic.
Stripped of her disguise, she was beautiful beyond compare.
Standing in the woods in her green tunic, her violet eyes blazing and her red lips beckoning, he had fought the urge to take her into his arms and crush those lips beneath his.
Had his men not been with him, he might have done so.
Yet he had also been tempted to shake her for he had been maddened by the possibility she had lied once again.
Mathieu came to his side and whispered a message that brought a smile to his face. Turning from his companions, Renaud said, “If you will forgive me, I’ve a mind to be alone with my lady.”
Leaving Geoff and Maugris with startled faces, his gaze drifted up to his chamber.
* * *
Serena sank into the steaming bath letting the water bring relief to her aching muscles. The fight for Cassie’s life, which had only begun, had taken much from her. She loved the girl like a sister and the thought she could lose her weighed heavy on her mind.
Since Cassie was sleeping in Serena’s bed, Maggie had arranged for Serena’s bath to be placed in the lord’s chamber.
Seeing his warrior things strewn about she was instantly uncomfortable and wondered if Mathieu’s assurance that she would be left alone could be counted upon. There was no guard at the door.
Thoughts of the knight who slept here plagued her.
She knew he was angry even after her explanation.
During their brief exchange of words on the way back to Talisand, his steel gray eyes, as threatening as the blade secured at his waist, portended ill.
Might he still believe she left Talisand of her own accord?
She had no desire to fight with him now, not when she had finally accepted the truth of her feelings.
She had wanted to explain all that was in her heart, but the presence of his men and the concern for Cassie had kept those thoughts locked within her.
By now, Sir Hugue would have made it back to Mercia, assuming Cassie’s blade had not stopped him.
If Morcar knew she was again in the hands of the Red Wolf, mayhap he would not pursue her.
He had said he would soon leave for York.
Was Steinar already there? She remembered the city, southeast of Talisand, only a short distance from Stamford Bridge where Eawyn’s husband Ulrich had fallen.
Picking up the rose scented soap, Serena scrubbed her body and hair. Once the soap was rinsed from her hair, she wrung the water from it, reached for the drying cloth and rose from her bath, wiping the water from her wet skin.
The door opened with no warning knock.
Serena gasped and pulled the cloth over her breasts and belly, keenly aware her legs were bare for anyone to see.
The Red Wolf stepped into the chamber, his piercing gray gaze sliding over her body and coming to rest where her breasts strained against the thin cloth. She could feel the heat of her blush as she looked to see the drying cloth clinging to her wet skin.
Without saying a word, he turned to the side and took off his belt. Then, with a grunt, he pulled his mail over his head and struggled out of his tunic. She would have offered to help had she not been so scantily clad. Had she not been so shy of his disrobing before her.
When his tunic slid to the floor, she nervously asked, “What do you intend, my lord?”
“I should think that was obvious, my lady. I am claiming my bride.”
“Now?” She gripped the drying cloth more tightly to her still damp body. The long strands of her hair, wet from the bath, clung to her skin. No man had ever seen her in such a state.
“Yes, now.” His eyes considered her carefully, and he shook his head. “God knows I’ve left it overlong.”
While still staring at her, he shed his spurs and boots and doffed his linen shirt, leaving his chest bare and his lower body clad in only hosen and braies. He was a beautiful man with his bronze skin and muscled chest. Her eyes were drawn to the white cloth circling his upper arm.
“Your wound,” she said, as she focused on the white bandage around his upper arm. The wound from the arrow he took for Jamie. How could she not love such a man?
“Aye.” He glanced down at the bandage. “My token from the siege at Exeter.”
“Does it pain you?”