When Lightning Strikes (22 page)

“I have given my word…what more do you wish? Perhaps I have not always treated my lady with the respect due her. I was after all, betrothed to her against my will, if you recall.” He raised an eyebrow at his father. “But after this, I have realized how much she means to me and I will treat her thusly.”

Thomas stared at his son for a moment.

“Very well then. I will see you later this evening if you show yourselves after your meal and if not, I will see you in the morn.”

“I doubt we shall make ourselves seen this eve, father.” Navarre smiled and bowed ever so slightly.

Thomas nodded knowingly.

Navarre turned on his heel and made quickly for the stairs. He licked his lips in anticipation of seeing the beautiful, golden witch wet and naked in his chambers. Very soon she would be lying in his bed and he would make her forget all about du Barbaronne. He would almost like to forget about him as well!

But then again – that would prevent him from fully enjoying the knowledge that he was bedding the gypsy’s wife. And for tonight at least…forgetting the gypsien was the last thing he wanted to do.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Tis good to see you again, my lady.”

The short, hefty maid walking along side Sarah grabbed her by the hand, patting it as they climbed the steep stairs. Her eyes welled with tears and Sarah could see that she genuinely had missed her…or rather the lady Melissande. Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but realized she didn’t know this elderly servant woman’s name.

“Thank you.”

She paused for a moment. “I am sorry, madame, but I cannot remember your name.”

She smiled sheepishly knowing that most of the household probably knew about her ‘amnesia’ by now and for that small favor, she couldn’t be more thankful.

The old lady’s brows knit together in worry,
then a look of comprehension crossed her face.

“There, there now my dove,” she patted Sarah’s hand again. “Yes, now I have heard that ye lost much of yer memory. I was hopin’ to the Father up in Heaven that ye would not ferget yer dear old nanny who nursed
ye at me very bosom but I see that it is so. And what of this strange accent ye speak with now? Ah, well then…we shall pay it no mind at all. We are just happy ta have ye back with us alive and well, love.”

She stared at Sarah for a long moment as they stopped at the top of the long stone staircase.

“You really cannot remember me, can you child? Tis me, Margery.”

Sarah smiled at her. Then seeing the pain in the old servant’s eyes, she brightened her expression slightly and said, “Margery? Margery – yes, that name seems so familiar to me. I am quite certain I will remember you after I have rested and recovered. How could I not? I can see the love and care that has come from your heart and your tender hand, Margery.”

The old lady smiled and tears welled up in her eyes anew that the lady she had raised from infancy remembered her even a little.

They walked down a long corridor lit on either side with bright burning candles.  Sarah looked around in awe. She was actually walking in a 14
th
century castle – not a restored one, but the actual thing as it stood in its time! It wasn’t the huge castle of say…a king, but it was the good size keep of a liege lord in all its glory.

“Here we are my lady.” They stood just outside a large wooden door that Sarah knew must lead into the master bedchamber.

“I have set the maids to drawing ye a nice, warm bath and I will have food brought up directly for you and his lordship.”

Margery’s mouth tightened into a tight line as she brought up the name of Navarre. Perhaps the servants knew of what a snake he really was.

Sarah immediately began to think. If she could win over someone…anyone here, maybe they would help her escape!

“Thank you, Margery. I am in need of a bath and some food.” She paused for a moment and then on a gamble she said, “I am so weary from this ordeal. I know that my lord husband is shall we say…anxious to attend me, but I do not know if I am up to it yet. I know that he will not take no for an answer.”

Sarah’s eyes welled up with tears in earnest but her heart began to bloom with hope as she saw Margery’s brow knit together and a look of fierce protectiveness cross her features. That was exactly what Sarah was hoping for.

“Yes, that popinjay will be panting about just as he always is! I cannot promise ye I can protect ye from him this eve, my poppet, but I will do everything in me power to make it so! I will see to it that Hilde, the kitchen maid tends to his needs if he will take her so ye can get the rest ye be
needin’. She is just as bad as his lordship, she is! She will hike her skirts up any where she can and with any one she can.” Margery blew her breath out long and hard. “Blasted wench! What she sees in fornicating with that…that mangy scallawag I will never know! Just alike they are! Just alike!” Margery shifted her gaze about as if to make sure no one else heard her.

Sarah covered the smile that came to her lips. Margery’s blustery rantings would almost be comical if this situation weren’t so dire. At least she now knew that the old servant woman would do her best to protect her. It appeared Margery had been Melissande’s nanny and servant since babyhood and was well aware of the abuse young woman had suffered at Navarre’s hand. If Margery could help her elude Navarre’s advances just for tonight, it might offer her enough time to find a way to escape from this place and find her way back to Dominic.

Dominic.
The thought of the pained look in his eyes as she had been dragged from his arms nearly broke her heart in half. It had taken every ounce of courage she possessed to allow Navarre to take her away – and to stand up to him too. Her heart had been pounding so loud in her ears she thought she was going to pass out but in those moments it had been the only thing she could think of to save his life…and quite possibly her own.

Now here she was, alone and scared but alive.

Would Dominic come for her as he had promised to do? The thought sounded so romantic. Medieval. Chivalrous. But in reality they would probably both hang or lose their heads at the guillotine. Then again, death would be preferable than being trapped here in the 14
th
century with a man like Navarre taking her to his bed night after night!  Sarah cringed. She would escape or die trying and that was that.

Margery eased Sarah through the heavy wooden door and into the master chamber and Sarah gasped as she looked all around her. The room was immense with high vaulted ceilings made of stone. Golden sconces attached to the walls held the many candles that bathed the room in a soft glow. Woven tapestries covered the walls and had been drawn down as blinds across the open windows. One window had a gauzy, silken curtain hanging across it. A huge stone fireplace was built into one of the walls and the mantle above it was lined with carved figurines.

Off to the left was a very large bed on a frame of carved wood. Lion’s heads formed the end of each one of the posts and thick mattresses and pillows were laid across the frame. Heavy coverlets of brocade cloth and velvet draped the bed and a veil of gauzy material was strewn across the top canopy. It was a regal looking bedchamber to say the least. The room was medieval romance at its best; a woman’s ultimate dream boudoir. Except in this case it was more of a nightmare since it belonged to someone no better than the devil himself!

A huge wooden tub stood by the fireplace and was already partially filled with steaming hot water, lavender and fragrant herbs. Sarah couldn’t help sniffing the air at the delightful scents.

Another servant entered the room and one more behind her, each carrying wooden buckets full of steaming water, which they dumped into the now almost full tub. Each one of the maids stopped and curtsied lightly. “It is good to see you alive and well, my lady,” said the shorter blonde-haired girl.

Sarah smiled at them. “It is good to see you as well.”

They returned her smile and quickly skipped out the door to get more water.

“That is Magda and Alice – in case ye have fergotten their names as well. Will ye
be needin’ any help to disrobe, my lady?” Margery asked. “I see ye’re not wearin’ yer usual attire. It is the clothes of those vagabonds? I heard ye was taken by them….by du Barbaronne and his kind.” Margery stepped forward to examine the beautiful, beaded cloth of the dress Indiri had given Sarah.

“
My this is lovely, though. Where on earth did ye get this, child?”

“It was given to me by one of the older women in Dominic’s troupe.”

“I see.” Margery stared at her long and hard. Her eyes hung for just a moment on the gold medallion that hung from Sarah’s neck.

She could sense something was amiss. Melissande had changed somehow…or had she? She seemed different. Heavens name her complexion had been ruined in the sun! And only God may know what other unspeakable acts may have happened to her amidst the band of heathens. It was no wonder the poor lass
had lost her memory. Of course, coming home to Navarre’s oft-times heavy hand wasn’t much better.  But at least the lady had all the creature comforts of a warm bed, plenty of food, fine clothes and the serfs to help with daily living.

“My lady…he….I mean du Barbaronne. He did not hurt you, did he?” Margery asked cautiously.

Sarah stared back at Margery noting her worried expression. “No, Margery, he did
not
. Not at all in fact.” She smiled, hoping to reassure her.

Margery was silent for a long moment. “That is good, child. You know if ye be
needin’ to spill yer heart to anyone, you know yer nanny is here fer ya.”

“Thank you, Margery. I will keep that in mind.”

Margery waited for another moment then shrugged moving back toward the tub to check the water. Ah, well, she thought. Perhaps she was simply tired and overwrought and that was all. She doubted it, but it was none of her business to pry too deeply in matters of which Melissande was not willing to speak of. She would come around in good time if it was meant to be. She supposed whatever Melissande had endured may not be much worse than what she had endured at Navarre’s hand when he was in one of his black moods.

The young serving maids finished filling the tub and Margery stepped forward to help Sarah out of her clothing.

Remembering what Navarre had said about a birthmark on her behind made Sarah suddenly uneasy. What if Melissande really did have the birthmark? Margery would know all about it and would see that it was not there. And obviously her dark complexion was not just on her neck and face – it was all over! What would they think? They would surely figure out that something was amiss. Sarah stepped back trying not to seem abrupt.

“Margery, I will not
be needing any help to disrobe this eve. I have been through much and I would like to take my bath in privacy. Perhaps you could bring some food and drink for when I am finished?”

Sarah hoped she didn’t sound nervous although giving
orders to servants and sounding nonchalant about it
did
make her very nervous. She hoped she sounded smooth and well-practiced.

Obviously she sounded fine. Margery nodded in assent.

“Very well then my lady. I will leave some linens for ye by the fire to warm them and a fresh night rail on the bed.” She lingered just a moment longer and then bustled out the door closing it behind her. Sarah ran to the door and locked it tight.

The idea of a bath in that wonderful, warm, scented tub seemed absolutely irresistible, as did a hearty meal. She knew she couldn’t really afford any such luxuries right now, but she also knew that she had eaten nothing whatsoever today, except the bread and cheese she shared with Dominic before they headed back to his camp where they encountered Navarre. She decided she had better take the time to eat because she was going to need all the strength she could muster to find her way out of here, and possibly climb down steep walls and walk – or run long distances if necessary.

For this little trip out into the wilderness, she was definitely going to find some way to take either a blanket for warmth or to hide a lit candle so she would have some fire! She wasn’t about to make the same mistake as she did when she ran away from Dominic. This time it wasn’t likely that he would come to her rescue and she may have to survive on her own until she could find his camp. It would be nice to have some sort of a weapon, but she didn’t really know how to kill anything with a knife and she wasn’t skilled with a bow. Perhaps she could find a way to the kitchens for some bread and dried meat or cheese to take with her. It would give her a few meals to survive on until she could figure out how to hunt or fish or something.

That would come later though. Right now she needed to get clean and think what to do when Navarre showed up. She quickly disrobed and sunk down into the warm, scented water. Washing the grime of the day away would indeed be a good way to get her thoughts in order and refresh her tired, achy body. The door was locked and she was safe for the moment.

Sarah sunk down deeper into the warm tub. The fire crackled softly and a light breeze lifted the gauzy curtain on the window. She felt so, so tired from all of this and as the warmth of the water and the scent of the relaxing herbs assailed her senses, she felt so sleepy she could barely keep her eyes opened. She knew that now was not the time, but moments later her eyelids were closed as her weary body gave into the sleep that ruthlessly beckoned.