Joanna Makepeace - The Baron's Bride

“But you think I would be, wed to this man you hardly know.”

“I believe I have the measure of Alain de Treville.”

“And,” she said bitterly, “the fact that he is a powerful baron and in the King’s favour does not weigh with you in the slightest. Will you not have to beggar yourself to provide a suitable dower for me? That is usual in such alliances, isn’t it?”

“We did not discuss a possible marriage contract.”

“I will not do it,” she protested stubbornly.

“Gisela, do not be foolish. I have seldom opposed your wishes. In that I was, perhaps, unwise, but this is a serious business. I will not be defied. I have not yet made up my mind but I tell you plainly, every instinct impels me to accept this proposal. I shall inform you of my final decision tomorrow. You can retire to your chamber if you have finished your meal.”

He was dismissing her as if she were an unruly page or servant. She was trembling with distress and fury. Never had he showed his anger so plainly. She could find no words to answer him so she stood and curtsied formally, an action rare with her to this man she knew only as a loving and generous father, then she walked in dignified fashion from the hall.

She felt her limbs still trembling as she climbed the stair to her chamber where she found Aldith sorting gowns in her clothing chest. Aldith had fallen easily into work as her personal attendant from the moment she had come to Brinkhurst on the afternoon of Sigurd’s arrest. Now she slept on a truckle bed within her mistress’s chamber and to Gisela, it seemed her beloved nurse had returned to her as if she had never left to live with Rolf and Sigurd in the little cottage in the assart.

Aldith saw at once that something was terribly wrong. She did not make the mistake of enquiring, knowing that if the matter concerned Sigurd she would have been informed at once and sensing Gisela was not yet ready to tell her what was distressing her so badly.

Gisela walked to the little casement, its shutters not yet drawn to, despite the cold outside, for Aldith knew that her mistress liked the still-scented air from the herb garden to freshen the little room behind her mother’s bower, which was warmed from below by the hearth fire and could become stuffy.

Gisela stared bleakly over the darkened garden. She said without turning, “Aldith, I want you to find a reliable servant to take a message for me to Sir Kenrick of Arcote at first light tomorrow.” Her voice shook slightly. “Kenrick does not read well so it must be verbal. I want him to meet me at noon tomorrow in the clearing in the wood near the stream. He knows the place. We have ridden there often together.”

Aldith frowned. She was aware, without being told, that this message must not be repeated to others, or reach the master’s ears.

“Mistress, you do not intend to ride out tomorrow without escort? That would be very dangerous.”

“I must, Aldith.” The words were whispered.

She turned from the window and Aldith hastened across to draw to and fasten the shutters. The room was illuminated now only by a single candle on a chest by the bed but, by its light, she saw how white her young mistress was, especially round the mouth.

Gisela had sunk down upon the wolf-pelt coverlet of the bed and was stroking its fur absently.

“What is it, child?” Aldith questioned gently, reverting to her former familiar attitude when Gisela had been her loved charge. “You would not disobey your father without cause. It is not your way.”

“He intends to wed me to Baron Alain de Treville.”

Aldith’s lips rounded in an “o” of astonishment but she uttered no sound.

Gisela said woodenly, “I love Kenrick of Arcote. I—I somehow never questioned the fact that, in time, we should wed.”

Aldith chose her words with care. “It is within the right of your father to choose for you.”

“I know that, but it never occurred to me that he would gainsay me in this, my deepest desire.”

Aldith hesitated, then pressed on, “Few girls expect to marry the man of their own choosing. The Baron is the wealthiest man in the shire. It is natural your father should consider this the finest match for you.”

“I do not wish to be mistress of Allestone.” The words were ground out through gritted teeth. “This man is an arrogant stranger. Look how he treated Sigurd.”

“He granted him his life when it was in his power to hang him,” Aldith reminded her softly. “I shall pray for him to the end of my days for that mercy.”

“But if he had not thrown you both from your cottage, the attack would never have happened.”

Aldith sighed. It was not for her to challenge the decisions of the great ones.

“What do you think Kenrick can do about this?” she said at last diffidently.

“I don’t know,” Gisela said desperately. “Surely he can plead with Father…”

“Suppose it is not in his mind to—offer marriage,” Aldith ventured, “since he has not declared himself? It is my opinion that Sir Kenrick will be guided by his mother in this.”

Gisela stared at her dully. “I am sure he loves me,” she said desperately. “I could be happy at Arcote.” She seized her maid’s hand. “You will do this for me, find me a messenger and help me to get out of the house?”

Aldith nodded slowly. She was kneeling close by her mistress’s side. She rose heavily. Everything appeared to be happening suddenly to disrupt the even tenor of their lives. She felt cold to her bones. Surely this was a natural sense of foreboding for the problems facing them and not the acute approach of old age!

Gisela rode fast for the little clearing in the wood once she had managed to get free from the village. She had not found it as difficult as she had feared; her father had risen early and ridden out on the desmesne, obviating the need to lie to him about her destination and purpose for the ride. Since the latest attack on the manor near Oakham, he had been more and more adamant that she be escorted and it was essential that she should ride alone this morning.

In the end, it had been the head groom she had had to convince that she needed no one to accompany her, giving as her excuse that she was going no further than the church in the village. Aldith had stood by the manor gate, clearly alarmed. Had Sigurd been available, he could have run by his mistress’s saddle bow and afforded her some protection.

Aldith’s heart misgave her as Gisela put spurs to her palfrey and rode out of sight. Not only was her mistress at risk, but the necessity to urge Kenrick to declare himself also worried Aldith. Suppose her mistress was to be disappointed in the man and humiliated by a refusal to help her? Gisela was so sure that Kenrick was a suitor. If she were wrong, she would be brokenhearted.

Aldith had sent off Gisela’s message as promised. Since there was no time for a reply she could only hope Kenrick would be at the trysting place as Gisela had requested. She sighed and went wearily back into the manor house. She had slept badly, still worried about Sigurd and concerned for her mistress.

Gisela knew she was early when she reached the clearing. She had been too impatient to wait before leaving Brinkhurst. She walked her palfrey to a large flat stone she had previously used as a mounting block and managed to dismount unaided, then secured her palfrey’s reins on a low branch of overhanging alder and moved unhurriedly to the stream.

She had encountered no one in the wood. The villagers had been working at the final autumn tasks within their own cottages. There were still rushes to be dipped, apples stored and inspected and the final sealing done on salted pig-meat barrels.

She frowned as she tapped her riding whip against her booted foot. If Kenrick had been from home when her message arrived, this last desperate measure to avoid what she considered an enforced marriage could well be doomed for, somehow, she knew her father would give his decision later today. He would not keep Baron Alain de Treville waiting and last night he had been so definitely in favour of the match. Only Kenrick could give her hope of rescue from this sorry fate by declaring himself today, as she prayed he would consent to do.

She heard sounds of movement on the track and turned instantly to find Kenrick’s sorrel hack entering the clearing. She waited by the stream, her heartbeat quickening, as he sprang down and almost ran towards her. He took both her hands in his and squeezed them tightly.

“Gisela, oh, my dear, I came the moment I received your message. I was out when the man came but he waited, praise God, and found me as I rode through the gate. There is no trouble at Brinkhurst? But, surely not, your father would have sent word.”

His greeting was so ardent. She scanned his face anxiously; she could not have been mistaken about his feelings for her.

She went straight to the point. “I thought you should know at once. My father proposes to wed me to Alain de Treville.”

Shock registered instantly on Kenrick’s good-humoured countenance. For a moment he looked almost haggard. His gloved fingers tightened upon hers and he pulled her a little closer to him.

“He has given his word?”

“Not yet. I think it will be soon. De Treville asked for me yesterday, at the manor court. Did you hear about Sigurd?”

Kenrick nodded. “Yes. I am sorry for the boy, but I suppose it was the best we could hope for him, under the circumstances.” He drew her away from the clearing some way so that they would not be seen so easily by any passerby on the track. “Tell me, Gisela, you are not in favour of this match? He would make you my lady…”

“Of course I am not. Father was angered with me last night more than he has been for years now. I was vehemently against it. I told him I would not be coerced. I cannot imagine why the Baron should want such a marriage. We have been at odds from the first time we met and he does not strike me as a man who would accept a rebellious wife lightly. Surely he could make a more advantageous marriage at the King’s court?

“I am at a loss to understand it. The proposal has come out of the blue.” Her eyes appealed to him and she hesitated, then plunged on. “I—I had hoped that—” she swallowed hard “—Kenrick, I must humiliate myself by asking if you have any feelings for me…”

“Of course I have,” he said forcibly. “I would have declared myself months ago had not my mother been so against it.”

“You have spoken with her about it?”

“Aye.” He looked away momentarily. “We have quarrelled. I rode out early this morning to clear my head of wine fumes. We had a fierce engagement only last night when I informed her of my intentions regarding you and I drank more than I should.”

“She does not approve of me,” Gisela sighed. “I feared as much.”

“She would not approve of anyone I wished to marry, if the truth were known,” he said angrily. “She is unwilling to allow any other woman’s rule at Arcote, but I informed her last night that I would brook no more tearful scenes, that I would go to your father soon and request your hand in marriage.”

Gisela expelled a tiny sigh and he bent and kissed her gloved palm. “Do not be afraid, my love. I will ride back with you today and ask for your hand. When he is made aware that we both want this match, I do not think he will force you into a marriage that would be odious to you.”

Gisela was doubtful. Her father had been determined last night that Kenrick was not the man for her but surely, as Kenrick said, he would listen to reason? She had to try. She looked into Kenrick’s young frowning face intently.