The Everlasting Covenant Page 15

  “I am sorry to take your sons away again so soon, madam,” he said, his voice quiet and controlled.

  “I understand the need,” she returned, dry-eyed, her mouth firm.

  “You might have said something of your daughter’s condition,” he attempted.

  He noticed a light come into Marcella’s eyes, but he could not tell if it was of glee or fury that sparkled there. He knew by the curve of her lips that it was not embarrassment. “My silence at first came from the fact that I strongly desired a marriage to take place--and you were smitten with my youngest. Later, I feared to turn you against us by any confession. I was, after all, severely chastised for the condition of her clothing, a minor infraction in comparison.”

  “You knew?”

  She gave a slight nod.

  “And the knight was not captured and punished?” he asked. “Why did you not call your men to arms to avenge your daughter?”

  Marcella quickly guessed the lie her daughter must have told. “Think you ill of me, my lord? ‘Tis difficult for a man to understand, perhaps, but to mete out vengeance, Anne’s shame would have been made public. Thank me that I did not, for she would have had to go straightway to the cloister, an unfit bride but for Jesu, had her violation been common knowledge.” Brennan looked away, uncomfortable with the truth to that statement. And, in retrospect, Marcella was right. Owning Anne’s virginity had never been more important to him than having her for all time, as his very own. “Sometimes, for women, silence is safer, if more complicated. But you have been liberal with your complaints, I know you think I am a poor mother.”

  His color deepened, almost in a blush. He bowed before Marcella, wondering if he had misjudged her. “Our families are united now, madam. I beg forgiveness and would count the matter of our differences done.”

  She smiled. “Succor my daughter, my lord. And my sons, they are loyal to you, York, and their father’s memory.”

  “Aye, madam. I understand.”

  “My lord, I should like to assure myself that she thrives.”

  “I had not thought you very concerned about Anne. ...”

  “Oh? I think there is much about women, mothers, that you do not understand, my lord. I have five children and many duties to perform. I have worked very hard, and now that my work is nearly done and I can enjoy the fruits of my labors, I am alone.”

  He looked at her closely, there was sincerity in her voice. He had never doubted her hard work. Indeed, he had watched her perform, but while impressed by her determination and energy, he had been highly disappointed in her lack of compassion for her children. Yet, his own son, pampered since birth, was a disappointment. He briefly reconsidered Marcella’s harsher methods. “Visit us,” he said quietly. “And Anne may visit you at any time she desires.”

  “You are generous. I am pleased for my daughter.”

  A while later, the Gifford knights, ready for travel with new mounts and replenished supplies, bade their mother farewell. And then Anne approached Lady Gifford with a little hesitancy. Divina was conspicuously absent – the sisters had shared no parting words.

  “We will depart, my lady,” she said nervously. “God keep you.”

  “No kiss for your mother?” Marcella asked.

  Anne leaned toward Marcella and brushed a kiss on each cheek. She could not remember another time in her life they had embraced. “Thank you, madam.”

  “I will expect the debt repaid ... in kind.”

  “And ... my sister ...?”

  “Divina will not interfere. You must urge Lord Forbes to reward your brothers – he has much influence with Edward.”

  Anne swallowed hard. “Yea, madam. It is the least I can do.”

  “I had not given credence to your cunning,” Marcella said, and Anne’s eyes reflected the shock of seeing her mother smile. “I see you are very clever – clever enough to keep your mother well.”

  Jesu, mercy, Anne thought, noting the smile, the cold eyes, the determination. But all she said was, “Of course, madam.”

  ***

  Within a week Anne had buried her father, married the Earl of Ayliffe, and traveled quickly and without pampering to London. They found the city secured and quiet – shops were closed, people confined to their homes, and no merchants’ carts jammed the way. Within a day of her arrival, Anne observed Edward’s victorious entry into the city with his enormous army. There was no resistance from any quarter. Events happened so rapidly, with such meager preparation, that day blended into night, night into day, as she found herself suddenly changed from the childish object of her mother’s scorn into a youthful, richly garbed countess.

  If she had married and traveled to London with Brennan for the sake of companionship, she would have been disappointed. Queen Margaret’s forces had recaptured the pitiful, insane King Henry and conflicting reports of the status of her army swirled around the city. Many said the Scots were fleeing. Others said that because of her victory at Saint Albans, she had managed to gather an impressive English force. There was little to be done but to confront her. Brennan, therefore, was constantly in counsel with various York supporters, and plans were swiftly calculated. Proclamations declaring Edward King of England were publicly read and an army was amassed. Edward the King called for every man from the age of sixteen to sixty to do battle against Margaret and secure the crown.

  The earl and his countess kept lodgings close to Edward, the Earl of Warwick, and others of influence in the new court, but Anne did not perceive this as a time of glamour and excitement at court. Too much was at stake – Brennan would go again to war. Anne was left behind in apartments in the Tower of London with a group of noblewomen and servants whom she did not know. They treated her with the same cautious deference her family had shown toward her during the Christmastide days. She was beginning to learn the importance of her husband’s titled position and Brennan’s closeness to the king.

  To her great relief, Brennan returned from battle again, victorious this time. She listened to his tales of the battle fought on the early morn of Palm Sunday in a snowstorm so blinding and furious that most of the deaths occurred from confusion and accident. Almost thirty thousand were dead but miraculously, all three of her brothers had survived. And although King Henry and Margaret had fled to safety, there was little doubt now as to who was king. Edward had proven his might, if not his right.

  Brennan moved Anne into a house on Pickering Lane with a staff of servants to attend their needs. She hoped for a period of quiet to follow the battle of Towton, if not for her own sake, for Brennan’s. She was concerned by the way that worry drew deeper lines in her husband’s face, and she knew he needed more rest. But it was not to be. There was a heavy load of work and preparation involved in attainder for Henry’s followers, making appointments for Edward’s most faithful vassals, and plans for a coronation were set in motion. Brennan was kept busy and frequently away from his young bride. The weeks passed quickly. The Gifford sons, having salvaged their reputations by going to war with Edward a second time, pestered Anne with requests when they could not get Brennan’s ear. Quentin and Trenton did not have outrageous requests. Quentin wished for a higher honor for Raedelle than a barony and Trenton wished for a post serving the earl. But Bart hungered after a rich estate, preferably an earldom, and was irritated by Anne’s reticence. She cautioned Bart to be patient, promising that Brennan would be more generous when he had more time.

  In the midst of this lonely early spring, Anne felt a new quickening within her. She knew the child was Dylan’s. She held the news tightly for longer than necessary, and then asked her tired husband, late one night, if he would welcome a second son. She had not even met Brennan’s first son and heir, Brainard. Though she had conceived this child in mid-February, she did not inform her husband until May. Then, she promised him a child for Christmastide, knowing it would be sooner.

  Feeling the changes in her body and the life move inside her caused her to think of Dylan often, but with an odd kind of joy. She
had heard that the deFrayne heirs were safely exiled for the time being, and she knew she would be bringing forth a child of the love that she and Dylan had shared. That she could bring the child into the rich, loving, protective circle that Brennan had provided only deepened her love for her husband. She grew more grateful for Brennan Forbes each day and marveled at the way she could accept the love she felt for both men. Had there been any choice, she would gladly have fled England with her beloved Dylan, but for all the painful circumstances she had endured, she was not blind to her many blessings.

  Her husband was a good and strong man. She did not begrudge his basic needs, nor did she shrink from his husbandly demands. Indeed, she felt a certain contentment when his arms held her safe. In all his power, he was honest and kind, and treated her as if she were some angel of light come into his life. She stood proudly beside him during the coronation of Edward, the most handsome young king ever to live. The tiny flowering of her pregnancy was barely noticeable when, finally, business and festivities done, and filled with the need to prepare for her child, she asked him to take her home.

  Anne had been easily impressed by the beauty of Westminster and Windsor during her four months while Brennan attended to the king’s business. She had expected the palaces, abbeys, and churches to be exquisite, befitting a king. But, ultimately, it was Ayliffe Castle, her new home, that took her breath away and left her stunned and speechless. For all she had discerned about her husband’s wealth and importance, she was still unprepared.

  From the road at five leagues she could see the walled estates and towering parapets. A rich and deep river fed the moat that surrounded what could have been ten cities. She passed by seven stables, five hundred stout homes, ten thousand soldiers, one thousand of them knights. The church rivaled a London cathedral, decorated windows, ornate statues, polished oak stalls, and jeweled tapestries were more ornate than any she had ever seen.

  The hall was not a hall, but a palace. The floors were laid with tile and marble and covered with rugs, not rushes. The windows were of glass, tapestries and draperies hung liberally about the walls, the hearths were full and wide, and the furniture must have been worth the wealth of ten kings. Bedchambers did not flow into one another off wide galleries as in most simple manors, but the individual rooms were connected by hallways. Even at Raedelle there had been only four bedchambers that were private and had doors instead of draperies and screens to separate them. And each bedchamber at Ayliffe Castle was hung with silk draperies. In the room she would share with Brennan there was even a separate, attached room for the bath, likewise hung with tent-like silk curtains.

  Anne toured the palace in almost a daze. Hours passed and she had still seen only a portion of it. She found her husband so beloved by his subjects that each face beamed for their lord’s new-found happiness when she had expected them to frown because of her youth. In droves they came to bow before her, and Brennan introduced each one by name, the terms quite familiar. She made a private oath to herself to do as well as he within a year of living here.

  There were important, intimate acquaintances for her to make. There was Mistress Kirsten, who had ruled over the servants in the hall with an iron fist for twenty years. And Sir Wayne, the captain of the guard and sometimes, in Brennan’s absence, the seneschal.

  “This is Jane,” Brennan said. “Though she is young, she has all the necessary skills required to attend a noblewoman and will serve in your bower.”

  Jane bobbed in a curtsey, smiling broadly with gleaming crooked teeth. Brennan had called her young when she was actually older than Anne by at least a few years. That, in addition to Jane’s engaging smile, caused the new countess to laugh. “I will be grateful for your help, Jane.”

  “Aye, mum, I’ll be doing right by you. Long’s been the time I’ve been waiting for this, fearing his lordship would never bring me a lady to tend. Don’t you worry over your hair or gowns, mum, none in Ayliffe knows better how to take care of you than Jane.”

  Anne nodded. No one, she thought, including the countess. She would rely on Jane for the knowledge she lacked herself. “I hope you can also help me learn Ayliffe. I never imagined anything so large as this.”

  “Lived here all my life, I have. I’ll tend you now and then see to your young when they come.” Jane looked her over. “Aye, his lordship did right by me after all.”

  Anne felt her cheeks glow. “I’ll try to be deserving of your good service.”

  “Never mind, mum, you just let me take care of you and I’ll be asking nothing more. I’ll show you the castle, bring your meals, draw your--”

  “You’ll wear her out with chatter,” Brennan scolded good-naturedly. “Go on and wait for your lady. I’ll put her in your capable hands soon enough.”

  “Aye, milord,” she said. “Don’t you let him tire you, mum. He goes on worse than me.”

  “I doubt that’s possible. Go on now, mistress. You may bend the countess’s ear later.”

  Anne let out a sigh mixed with a chuckle when Jane had finally relented and disappeared. “It’s almost as if I chose her myself,” she said, smiling at her husband. “I will never be lonely again.”

  “You will pray to be lonely,” Brennan added. “Ah, here is Sir Clifton. Sir Clifton, I would present the Countess of Ayliffe, my wife.”

  This handsome young knight bowed before her, but could not hide his stunned admiration from his eyes. His mouth stood agape as he confronted her dark beauty. Sir Clifton was perhaps Dylan’s age, shorter, well muscled and thickset. She smiled at his look of wonder and he recovered himself with a slight blush. His square face, deep-set eyes, and thick brown hair gave him the look of a brooding little boy, but by the size of his arms alone his manhood was not in question.

  Brennan slapped Sir Clifton on the shoulder. “My knight appreciates beauty as heartily as his liege lord, but he is an honorable man who will not let his appreciation of your loveliness disturb his duty. Clifton already faithfully protects what is mine. It is to his special care that Brainard is entrusted, and, serving me well and honorably there, you may be assured of his importance in this place.”

  Clifton lowered his gaze, hiding a glowering perturbance, but neither Anne nor Brennan noticed. Anne turned to her husband. “Where is Brainard, my lord? I would have expected him to meet you at the gate.”

  “He is riding, my lady,” Clifton said. “I’ve sent a page for him, and when he is properly attired, I will send him to you.” Clifton bowed again. It caused Anne to laugh lightly. Clifton rose at the sound, frowning.

  “Sir Clifton, your courtly manners are impeccable, but let us save your young back,” she said happily. “If you do not bow each time you speak, I will not curtsey each time. May we agree, for both our sakes?”

  Sir Clifton’s complexion darkened. The young knight’s face became stony and serious. “I am your servant, madam,” he said, almost bowing again before he stopped himself.

  “I think we will be friends, Sir Clifton,” she said, turning away from him, dismissing him abruptly. She took Brennan’s arm again to continue the tour, oblivious to the fact that Clifton stared after them for a long time, his brows drawn together as if a serious thought disturbed him.

  Weeks would be involved in just learning the hall and grounds, much less meeting all the people. But there was a happy feeling within Ayliffe Castle that made Anne’s heart sail. It was a contented, clean, industrious place. Anne was especially delighted with an elaborate pleasaunce called the countess gardens found behind the hall, within the inner bailey. Water was allowed to flow though two barred watergates in the outer and inner walls to fill a small lake. Anne was amazed to see ducks and swans and peacocks wandering about. Lush gardens, now in full summer bloom, surrounded the lake and bordered the paths, benches, and fountains.

  “Oh Brennan, I have never seen anything so incredible as this. I cannot believe I will actually live here. Oh, I do understand my mother’s greed for this ... and I now see quite clearly why--”

 
; She broke off suddenly, but he urged her to finish.

  “Oh, it was a dreadful evening some time ago when you were away from Raedelle. Madam and my sister took a notion to taunt me because I had received so many new gowns and trinkets, and I was so hurt by their lack of love for me that I lashed out at them both. I swore never to allow them forgiveness, nor should they attempt to visit.” She laughed openly. “I had no idea what I threatened. I had no idea I should expect anything like this.”

  Brennan frowned. “You were wise to do it. I have not been comfortable with Lady Gifford’s strange alliance.”

  “Oh, but they brought apologies and begged for forgiveness. They were only jealous, Brennan. Surely you know how hard a curse envy is to bear.”

  He touched her cheek with fondness. Each passing day he found it difficult to believe he could have such good fortune as this: a woman of such fresh young beauty, so devoted, so kind and good in her heart. “You are too forgiving sometimes, my love. You must learn caution.”

  “It will be easier to learn caution than to learn to live in this luxury, I assure you. I feel very much the simple wench when I look at these new surroundings.”

  He looked down at her slightly swollen middle. “This has gone on for long enough. Come to your bedchamber. We can spend weeks touring Ayliffe, but you need your rest.” He deposited her in the richly appointed room that they would share. She had seen it earlier, but the shock was new as she entered again, unable to believe she would actually call this hers.

  “I’m certain you understand that many things require my attention just now, with a home this size and having been away so many months,” he said. How could she fail to understand? She was awed by the responsibility. She was not surprised when he did not return quickly, nor was she upset when an evening tray was delivered to her in the early evening. Although the sun was setting, Jane reported that Brennan was still involved in meetings with the caretakers of his demesne. Anne submitted happily to her private meal, bath, and chatter from her new maid.