The Stone Rose (56 page)

First he would see where a tailor could be found, and then he would hatch a plan or two. There was no doubt about it, the concubine’s daughter yet guarded her gemstone, and but for the taking of it, it belonged to him.

T
hree days later, Gwenn had recovered from the ordeal of her journey and had begun to chafe at the lack of exercise. Alis Wymark had a sweet but indolent nature, and it took much cajolery on Gwenn’s part before her aunt could be persuaded to accompany her and the children to one of the secluded coves which formed part of the peninsular. Apparently Alis was unused to putting a foot outside the manor proper without her tiring woman and at least one maidservant.

‘But, Aunt,’ Gwenn objected, laughing when she saw her aunt piling cushions and blankets into the arms of her longsuffering tiring woman. ‘There’s no need to make a pack horse of poor Marzina! We’re only going for a walk!’

‘I know, dear,’ Alis answered. ‘But I like to be prepared. We shall need something to sit on, and we might decide to make a day of it. I’ve sent Felicia to the kitchen for a basket of provisions. It will save having to send back for them if we need them.’

Gwenn noted the innocently uttered and very revealing phrase ‘send back for’. It would never occur to Alis to walk back herself for provisions if and when they were needed. As Sir Gregor’s wife she was used to being waited on hand and foot, and accepted it as her natural right that Marzina and Felicia should be dragged all the way to the beach with burdens which may or may not be used.

Alis finished stacking cushions on Marzina and heaved a sigh. She was out of condition, and sighed a lot. If she stopped asking others to do things for her and did them herself...

Smiling, Gwenn shook her head. Her aunt was loving and affectionate, and that was what mattered. Philippe had blossomed under the lavish care bestowed on him by Alis and her women. Katarin, however, remained silent. Gwenn hoped that a peaceful walk to the beach might encourage her sister to come out of herself. Peaceful? With Marzina, and Felicia, and Lord knows who else?

There was something more important which Gwenn wanted to discuss with her aunt, preferably out of earshot of the other women. She and Ned had not been allocated the quarters their married status merited, and while Gwenn was happy to be near the children, she had duties to Ned. She could see their separation was making him miserable.

On the beach, Marzina spread out the blankets, and Felicia set the basket to one side, next to a sea-smoothed boulder.

The wind whipped Gwenn’s veil round her face and, ignoring her aunt’s disapproving expression, she unpinned it and removed it. After a moment’s contemplation, she divested Philippe of his linen swaddling bands and tunic. Gurgling with pleasure, he began to crawl across the gently sloping sands.

‘Is it wise to remove all his clothes?’ Alis panted, sinking onto the blankets and cushions amid a froth of silken skirts. She waved at the maidservant. ‘Go after him, Felicia, there’s a dear, and see he comes to no harm.’

Felicia kicked off her leather shoes, hitched up her skirts, and smilingly obeyed. Felicia could do worse than be maidservant to her aunt, Gwenn realised. ‘It will do Philippe good to move about without restrictions,’ she said. ‘Besides, the air is warm.’

‘Won’t the sand scratch his delicate skin?’

Gwenn shook her head.

‘You are sure, Gwenn? You have more experience with babies than I do. I want to learn.’

‘They are very resilient, Aunt. Philippe is tougher than he looks.’

‘If you say so, dear.’ Alis heaved another sigh and dabbed her sweat-damp brow delicately with the edge of her veil. ‘It was further than I remembered from the manor.’

Gwenn hid a smile, for the walk had only been a short one. Katarin trotted up, mutely asking for help in removing her belt. She wanted to take her dress off to play in the sand with her brother and Felicia, and the belt buckle, a brass one which had been a gift from Alis, was too stiff for her growing fingers. Thinking to encourage her sister to use her tongue, Gwenn affected not to understand. Huge hazel eyes blinked, and the little girl nudged her on the shoulder, wrenching at the bright yellow buckle.

‘Why, Katarin!’ Gwenn feigned surprise. ‘Do you want something?’

Another tug on the belt. Another appealing look.

‘I’m afraid I don’t understand you,’ Gwenn said. ‘Do you want something?’

Her sister nodded vigorously.

‘Tell me, Katarin. Speak. What do you want me to do?’

Katarin pointed at her belt, caught Gwenn’s hand and guided it to her waist.

‘No. I won’t do it. Not till you speak. You must
tell
me, Katarin. Use your tongue, I know you can.’ Obdurately, Katarin shook her head. The child understood her, the shock of the killings at Kermaria had not damaged her sister’s intelligence, thank the Lord, only her will to communicate.

‘Try. Try, Katarin. Please, sweetheart.’

A sheen of tears coated the child’s hazel eyes, but her tongue did not loosen. Backing away from Gwenn, she gave Alis, reclining on her silken cushions, a hopeful glance.

Gwenn surrendered and took off her sister’s belt. When Katarin’s bliaud had been removed and she was clad only in her shift, the child gave Gwenn a shaky smile and scampered down the beach after her brother. Marzina, without being asked, followed Katarin.

Alis turned her soft blue eyes on Gwenn. ‘Don’t you think you make it worse when you try and force your sister to talk?’ she asked gently. ‘Perhaps you should let the sickness run its course?’

‘She should have recovered already. We’ve been here three days, and you’re kindness itself. She eats well, she sleeps well – she must know she is safe.’

‘Your sister needs time.’

‘Alan said that.’

‘Alan?’ Her aunt looked down her nose in a superior manner. ‘Oh, you mean that other mercenary, Captain le Bret.’

Her aunt, though she possessed a heart of gold, appeared to have prejudices. Gwenn tossed back her plait. ‘Aye, Alan.’ She refused to refer to him as Captain le Bret. ‘The man who guided us here. Our friend.’ And one whom she missed every minute of the day...

Since Alan had gone, Gwenn had not felt at peace with herself. She had attributed her distress to understandable grief at the sudden loss of her family and her home. But if Alan’s absence was not contributing to her unhappiness, why did she keep thinking of him? Why did she want to look into those cool grey eyes and touch that raven-dark hair?

Alis blanched. It was as though her aunt had read her niece’s thoughts. ‘A friend? That man? Oh, my dear, no.’

‘Why not? Why can’t Alan be my friend?’

‘But, my dear,’ Alis waved her hands in delicate confusion, ‘a mercenary... They can’t be trusted.’

Ned, her husband, was a mercenary. So they were coming to it, though not in the manner that Gwenn had anticipated. Marzina and Felicia were out of earshot with the children near the shoreline. She plunged in. ‘Tell me, Aunt, what’s the difference between my husband and his cousin, and the men who guard your manor?’

‘My dear, the men who guard Ploumanach are bound to the land.’

‘Slaves?’

‘My dear! Indeed they are not! Their families have served the Wymark family for generations. I would not dream of questioning
their
loyalty.’

Noticing that her fingers had curled into her palms, Gwenn deliberately uncurled them, and made her hands rest loosely in her lap. She did not want to alienate this amiable woman who had put a roof over their heads, but she had to speak up for Ned and Alan. ‘Aunt, I’ve learned that mercenaries can be as loyal as men born to a place. Ned served my father honestly and diligently. He risked his life for mine, and–’

‘And you should not have let him force you into marrying him.’

‘Ned did not force me!’ Her fingers curled up again. She straightened them.

‘My dear,’ Alis went on, placid but immovable, ‘I’m sure that Captain Fletcher is a nice enough lad, but can’t you see he is not...er.. quite suitable? I am glad that we are talking so freely about this, Gwenn, as it has been disturbing me. Things cannot remain as they are.’

‘Things? What do you mean?’

‘I’m talking about the so-called marriage between you and Captain Fletcher.’

‘So-called? We
were
married. At St Félix-in-the-Wood. Prior Hubert married us himself, with the monks as our witnesses. There is no doubt about it, Aunt.’

‘My poor girl,’ Lady Alis said, soothingly. ‘All you have to do is say the word, and I’ll ask our priest what can be done about getting you an annulment.’

‘An...an annulment?’

‘There’s no need for you to worry, my dear. No one would contest the fact that your marriage should not have taken place. What with you in a state of shock...’

‘But–’

‘I don’t suppose the marriage has been consummated, has it? You haven’t let him...touch you, have you, Gwenn?’

For all that she gritted her teeth, Gwenn felt her colour rise.

‘Oh dear.’ Alis sighed, drawing her own conclusions. ‘The beast. I had hoped he’d spared you that. It would have made matters easier if you were a virgin. However,’ the soft voice brightened, ‘all is not lost, I am sure. This very afternoon, I promise you I shall go and speak to Father Per–’

‘Aunt, you will do no such thing! Ned and I were married in the sight of God. I have sworn to keep faith with him, and keep faith I will. If you cannot accept our marriage, then we shall leave Ploumanach.’

‘My dear–’

‘No, hear me out. Ned loves me,’ a look of distress marred the unruffled calm of Alis’s face, ‘and I have no doubt you think that terribly vulgar. But he does love me, and I am his lawful wife, and I am not going to let you or anyone else change that.’

‘You could make a better alliance.’

‘A
better
alliance?’ Gwenn set her teeth. Darting a glance down the beach she saw the children and their companions were safely playing with a pile of shells, out of earshot. ‘A
better
alliance? I doubt it. Ned deserves a loyal wife, and I...I am very fond of him. If you cannot see your way to providing for us in the same way that you provide for the other married folk working on your estate, then we shall leave.’

Alis goggled.

Gwenn forced a smile. ‘I don’t want to quarrel with you, Aunt, but I warn you it is no empty threat. If you cannot accept me
and
my husband, we shall have to go.’

‘And the children, Gwenn? What of them?’ Alis’s gentle eyes strayed hungrily to Katarin and Philippe, and her undisguised longing squeezed Gwenn’s heart.

‘They would come with us, of course,’ Gwenn said, ruthlessly. She must suppress any sympathy she might feel for Sir Gregor’s childless wife, because if she did not make her views felt now, at the beginning, matters would only deteriorate. ‘I could not leave them. What would become of Katarin if I abandoned her?’

Alis stared at the children, her hand crept to her breast. ‘No. Not the children. Please,’ she whispered through lips that hardly moved. ‘For years I have prayed for children, and though I have come to accept that the good Lord has decided I shall not have little ones of my own, I thought...I thought...’

Weakening, Gwenn touched the older woman’s hand and completed her sentence. ‘You thought that He had sent you these.’ She gestured at her siblings.

A small movement of Alis’s veil indicated assent. ‘I thought my prayers had been heeded. I thought my autumn years were to be brightened by their presence. I would cherish your brother and sister, Gwenn. I want to love them. But if you go,’ the gentle blue eyes closed as if that thought was too horrible to contemplate, ‘if you go, what a torment I will feel. Already I am fond of them, already I have become used to them. If you go, Gwenn, my life will seem emptier than it did before.’

‘Aunt, don’t say that. Oh, God, this is dreadful. I don’t like using the children as a weapon, but you must understand my loyalty to Ned. Unless you accept him, unreservedly, I cannot stay. And how can I leave the children?’

Alis lifted swimming eyes to Gwenn’s. ‘You really feel loyalty to that...that...young man?’

Gwenn sensed that the older woman had been about to use a less favourable adjective to describe Ned, but let it pass. ‘I am Ned’s wife, and I intend to remain his wife.’ Hard though it might be for her, maybe it would be best for the children if she left them here and went away with Ned to make a future elsewhere. They could go to the King’s joust. Ned’s experience as a soldier and his enthusiasm would ensure he found a patron and...and...they would see Alan, too. Not that that last must affect her decision. If she and Ned left the children in Alis’s care, there would be no confusing conflict of interests, and they
would
be safe.

Alis’s gaze was drawn to the group by the shoreline. She straightened her shoulders and smiled, bringing dimples to either side of her mouth. ‘You drive a hard bargain,’ she said, and Gwenn knew by her tone that she had won. They could stay, all of them. She would not have to abandon the children and Ned would be accepted.

‘Will it be so hard, Aunt, to think the better of my husband?’ she asked, sadly.

‘I...I... No, of course not.’ Alis put a brave face on it. She may have been forced to bow to Gwenn’s will, but she would try and like the mercenary who had married her niece. How else could she keep the children?

‘It’s not such a bad marriage, Aunt, when you look at it dispassionately.’

‘You could have had a knight, or a merchant,’ Alis said wistfully.

‘Aunt, you’re forgetting, I’m not legitimate. I am only a bast–’

‘Hush, Gwenn!’ Alis flung a shocked glance in the direction of the children. ‘Katarin might hear you.’

‘Oh, Aunt Alis,’ Gwenn said, thanking God that her aunt had been blessed with a heart of gold, for she had a narrow bigot’s mind, and it was her only warm heart that redeemed her. ‘Katarin is a bastard too, and one day she is bound to discover it.’

‘Not if I can help it,’ Alis said, stoutly.

Gwenn bit her tongue and held down a sigh. To her mind such matters were best out in the open, but she did not think it was prudent to air that particular view today. She would have to proceed one step at a time. Today, she had made a stride, and she would save other strides for other days. ‘Aunt?’