Chapter 7
Icy fingers of dread crept over Alex as he slowly descended the stairs of their London manor that evening and beheld Merewyn, standing beside his mother. The two of them were richly gowned for the evening.
The violet silk Merewyn had worn on his first night home again made her appear the ethereal creature.
Gone was the page that had felled a red hart with his bow.
Before him stood a beautiful young woman, her flaxen hair plaited on the sides and pulled back from her face.
The rest of it spilled down her back, a waterfall of liquid gold.
He had the urge to run his fingers through the long strands, but then he reminded himself he was still angry with her for insisting on joining the hunt.
Her skillful shot had brought about an awkward state of affairs.
Dressed as a lady, she might be safe from the king, but she would not be safe from his brother, Robert—known to have sired several bastards—or every other rogue in the hall.
At one time, Alex would have been one of those knights who sought her favors if she was a woman who freely gave them.
Now he must protect her against his fellow knights, or worse, some nobleman of his father’s rank.
Maugris had warned him of temptation that called for honor and courage needed in the face of fear. Tonight he would certainly need courage and his wits as he battled other men tempted by Merewyn’s beauty. Was that what Maugris had seen?
His father stepped away from the others to join Alex at the foot of the stairs. “You seem to have taken an interest in my ward.”
Still watching Merewyn, Alex said, “I worry for her in that den of debauchery we enter tonight.”
“You have never worried for a lady’s virtue before. Why Merewyn’s?”
“I feel very protective of her.”
His father’s gray eyes narrowed on him. “The last time I looked at a woman the way you are looking at Merewyn, it was your mother.”
Alex’s brows drew together as he pondered his father’s words. He compared the two women standing on the other side of the room, one a younger version of the other. “Do you think they are much alike?”
His father shifted his gaze to his wife and his ward. “Aye, I suppose they are. Both are unusual for their sex. Your mother used to hunt for Maggie, though not from the back of a horse. It was through her archery skills I found her hiding among the servants.”
Alex recalled the story. “She smiles about it now.”
“Yea, but I can assure you she did not smile then. She hated all Normans, especially the king who had given Talisand to me along with her.”
“Would you have taken her if she were not the daughter of an English thegn?”
The look in his father’s eyes told Alex his mind was lost in memory. “I nearly did.”
He was glad to hear that his father had wanted his mother before he knew her to be the daughter of Talisand’s old English thegn. His parents’ beginning had been rough but love had come despite their differences.
Alex wanted Merewyn no matter the circumstances of her birth and if he decided to make Merewyn his, no man would take her from him, not even the king.
With a troubled look, his father cautioned, “Keep it at friendship with Merewyn, Alex. The king, no doubt, has plans for you.”
“Sir Geoffroi warned me of such, but I would guard her even if she were only a friend.”
“Then keep her close in the king’s hall tonight. Geoff and I will intercede if necessary.”
“Your offer is appreciated, Father, but I think I can handle this.”
A smile crossed the face of the Red Wolf as he placed his hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Aye, mayhap you can. I expect one day—and that day may not be far off—when the accomplishments of the Black Wolf will surpass those of the Red.”
Alex gave his father an incredulous look, but inwardly he smiled at the approval he glimpsed in his father’s eyes.
Soon after, they departed the manor. The distance to Westminster Palace was not far and they kept to a leisurely pace, avoiding the pools of standing water. Finally, ahead of them in the distance loomed the palace.
Passing Westminster Abbey on their right, beside him, Merewyn inhaled sharply. “That is the church?”
“Aye, the abbey is just there and, in front of you, the palace.”
“ ’Twas King Edward who rebuilt Saint Peter’s Abbey,” said Lady Serena riding ahead of them beside Alex’s father.
“The Conqueror added to the palace,” put in Alex’s father. “He found it inferior to the ones in France.”
“No doubt,” his mother muttered.
“The king tells me he has plans to make Westminster a grand hall,” Alex put in, wondering if William’s plans were not spurred on by the desire to outshine his father. What must it be like for William Rufus to live in the shadow of the Conqueror?
“I expect he will,” came his father’s response.
“I have never seen the like,” said Merewyn, staring at the abbey as they passed. Then looking ahead to the palace, she added, “I cannot imagine the palace being even larger.”
By the time they arrived, many of William’s subjects were waiting to greet him.
Grooms in the king’s livery took their horses.
A few earls and many barons and knights congregated around the door of the palace. Alex recognized those who had hunted with them that morning as well as others from his time in Normandy. Earl Hugh waved to them from where he spoke to the king’s chancellor, Robert Bloet.
Alex’s father was well known and much respected. Thus, Earl Renaud and his beautiful English wife garnered considerable attention as they walked up the stairs.
Alex took Merewyn’s hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow.
“Stay close,” he whispered. She looked at him with trusting eyes but also a hint of fear.
“I will not leave you,” he vowed. She had to be feeling awkward and mayhap fearful to be in the presence of the Norman king and so many of his knights.
Finally, the group from Talisand neared the king, who was standing inside the door greeting his guests. As was usual, the king was attired in great finery, a crimson tunic, with jewels set into the fabric. On his fingers were many rings of gold.
Next to the king was his older brother, Duke Robert, dressed in similar garb, though mayhap a bit less extravagant. His hair, too, was shorter than William’s.
On the other side of the king’s brother stood Ranulf, dubbed “Flambard”, or “torch-bearer”, for his overwhelming personality.
Alex knew Ranulf to be clever, talkative and always full of ideas.
He was the king’s closest advisor and priest, but his chief occupation appeared to be raising money for the king’s wars.
In that effort, Ranulf was not above robbing the church.
Alex deemed it likely it had been Ranulf’s counsel that had left the powerful position of Archbishop of Canterbury vacant for so long, enabling the king to claim the rents as his own.
But more concerning to Alex at the moment was Ranulf’s reputation as a conspicuous pursuer of women. He collected them like trophies.
In truth, the handsome Ranulf might be the greatest threat to Merewyn which, to Alex, seemed an odd turn of events.
At one time, he and Ranulf had competed for the affections of the women at court.
Always more aggressive than Alex in seeking out willing females, Alex had tolerated the man for he had the king’s respect.
But no longer. Now Alex recognized the king’s advisor for what he was, a predatory despoiler of women.
Ranulf, he was certain, would not fail to notice Merewyn’s loveliness.
That she was not a nobleman’s daughter only made her fair game.
Arriving in front of the king, William smiled at Alex and his father. “Ah, my wolves grace my hall! And with lovely ladies.” He first greeted Alex’s parents and then turned to Alex. “But where is the young page whose arrow felled the hart?”
Alex cleared his throat. “My Lord, may I introduce to you Merewyn of York, my father’s ward. I believe you know her as ‘Merry’.”
The king’s unusual eyes captured the light as they narrowed upon Merewyn, his expression one of disbelief. “By the face of Lucca, what have we here?”
Still holding on to Alex’s arm, Merewyn made a brief curtsey before the king. “My Lord.”
“Do my eyes deceive me?” asked William. “This jewel is the page you called Merry?”
“By the marvels of God,” exclaimed Duke Robert, “ ’tis the page skilled with a bow turned into a beautiful young woman… Ravissante, tout à fait ravissante!”
The short dark-haired duke, barely taller than Merewyn, grinned broadly at her, grimly reminding Alex that whereas the king might prefer to take his pleasure with young men, Robert loved women. That he found her enchanting was hardly surprising.
Alex was about to move past the king when William Rufus held up his hand. “Sir Alex, there is someone I would have you meet.”
Alex turned.
“ ’Tis the young Adèle, here with her father, Herbert, comte de Vermandois. Her father’s lands in Normandy are among those I now control.”
Alex shot a glance at Sir Geoffroi who had turned back at the king’s words.
The knight’s earlier speculation echoed in Alex’s mind.
Now that he has gained new lands in Normandy from his brother, Robert, I expect William will want to bind his young nobles to those lands.
The last thing Alex needed was an arranged marriage but he would not openly defy his sovereign.
He inclined his head. “Of course, My Lord.”
They passed the king and his brother, arriving in front of Ranulf Flambard.
The king’s advisor took Merewyn’s free hand and placed a kiss upon her slender fingers, his dark eyes searing into hers.
“I shall look forward to a dance with you this night, my lady. I would see more of your beautiful face.”
Alex scowled and tightened his grip on Merewyn. “The lady’s dances have all been claimed, I am afraid.”
Ranulf laughed. “We shall see, sir knight. We shall see.”