As darkness fell, Rayne left the empty hall and proceeded up the steps to her chambers. Tillie was not there, so she stoked the fire in her hearth and sat on the floor in front of it, contemplating her next move.
Her emotions were out of control. Admitting it was hard, but she was growing fond of Andre. This was the biggest mistake she could make. She had to find a way to leave. It would be a bit painful to go, thinking of what might have been. A small sound behind her caught her attention. She stood quickly. Standing at the door to her room was a young boy, no more than four or five years old.
He stared at her with large, bright, blue eyes. His blond hair curled about his angelic face, and a smear of mud ran up his right cheek. He studied her. Rayne did not know what to do. The boy was soon joined by another — almost a carbon copy of the first. The shining eyes of each sparkled with mischief.
"You must be Jenri and Hamon," she said and took a small step toward them. They both stepped back. Neither said a word, but glanced at each other and then back at her.
Intrigued, she tried again. "Do you know who I am? My name is Lady Rayne. Lord Andre told me all about you. Do you know anything about me?"
The older boy nodded slowly, his chin quivering. Rayne stopped her advance. He was obviously curious but scared of her. Before she could say another word, a voice softly called out their names and they raced down the hallway and were gone.
Alone again, Rayne sat on her bed. Her hands were shaking violently, and a lump formed in her chest. She had done all she could to avoid young children since the loss of her own. It was too painful to be near them. These boys were adorable, and she wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around them and squeeze them. Rayne wondered if Geva had been English, as the boys had the blond hair and blue eyes of the natives. She then remembered her own blonde hair and the blue rimming her grey eyes. She too appeared English, but was not.
How she envied them those blue eyes. The blue in her own was there only to tease her, rimming the grey, barely visible. She hated the grey. The boys had eyes the color of a mid-summer sky. Rayne had often dreamt of what her babies would have grown to look like. She had wished them to have eyes of that same color.
"Milady!" Tillie said, skidding to a halt in the doorway just recently vacated by the boys.
"Goodness!" Rayne's hand flew up to her chest over her racing heart. "You scared me witless."
Catching her breath, the older woman came further into the room. "I apologize if I frightened you. I feared you were…"
"Aye?" Rayne said, confused.
"Nothing," she said and shook her head, "I fear my head is full of silly fantasies these days. I imagined you in distress, 'tis all."
"I am fine, though I must say I am a bit shaken. I saw the boys. They came to the door just before you arrived."
Tillie threw more wood into the hearth, which was now blazing, and fetched a smock for Rayne without a word.
"Is something amiss?" Rayne asked.
"Oh no, dear. It has been a long day."
She prodded no further. "Indeed it has. Sleep sounds wonderful. No bath this night."
****
A bit later, down the hallway, Andre sat in the nursery with the nursemaid, Aliza, talking about his day with the tired boys.
"She is pretty," Hamon piped up as he allowed the nursemaid to dry him after his bath.
"Aye, she is," Aliza murmured as she tried to rub dry the boy's unruly curls. "I think your father may have found a lovely lady to take to wife."
Andre studied the nursemaid. She was young and slender, curving where God meant her to, but she left him cold. When she had first arrived, he had contemplated bedding her, but only for a moment. She was delightful with the children, but mostly because she was like them. Aliza was immature for her age, and he feared she was a bit daft.
However, she was good with the children, and she kept them safe and cared for, which was all he asked. Aliza's mind was sound, but conversation was stilted. Was he so desperate to take a wife and have children of his own he considered any woman who came his way? He knew now that was not the right way to go, and he cursed himself for those thoughts when she had first arrived. He had never been desperate for anyone or anything in his life, but his need to have children was now a priority.
That had been years ago. The girl was more like a daughter than a potential wife. She took over more care of the children as Geva faded into her madness, and he was grateful to her for that reason. She would always have a home at Cuxton because of her kindness to the boys. Aliza stayed out of his way and kept up with the shy but energetic children with the ease of someone so young.
"Aye, she is a beauty, children," he said, speaking of Rayne as he tucked Jenri, already bathed and dressed, into his bed. "She is a nice lady too, though she is a bit scared of being here."
"Was I scared when I came here?" asked Hamon. He was but a toddler when he arrived and did not remember, but he knew he was not born at Cuxton.
"Nay, you were a fine, brave boy, and your brother was the same."
"I wish I could remember," Hamon said.
"No need to dwell on those things. You are here now, and you will stay. You have my word."
Hamon struggled to put on his nightclothes. "Can we have a story?"
"Certainly," said Aliza. "What would you like to hear?"
"I want Father to tell us again about William!"
Andre's heart sang when the boy called him father. At the same time, melancholy swept over him. Under his roof now resided a woman meant to be his wife, who excited him in every way and could give him more children, children of his bloodline, and yet the future seemed unsure. If these were the only sons he had, he would be blessed. They would have the best he could give them.
"William," he said, "let's begin."
Hamon clapped his hands together and crawled into his bed. Andre sat back as Aliza left the room. "I shall return shortly," she said.
"William was a brave man. He was promised England by the Saxon king, Edward the Confessor. Upon his death, however, they refused him what he felt was his."
As Andre talked, the children slowly drifted to sleep, struggling to stay up to hear the story. When he finished, they were both asleep, and Aliza had returned. He gave her a brief nod as he exited the nursery to go to his desk. He had a letter to write to William Rufus. Briefly he remembered the end of William's story, how the king had died and how Andre had been unable to save him. His loyalty to William's son was absolute, his promise to a dying king to stand by the next one.
Now, he had another to protect — Rayne. She was an enigma, whereas William the First had been upfront and open. He had to keep digging so he knew what to do to protect her fragile heart and make her happy. One failure was enough, and he could not protect her if he did not know what to protect her from. His promise to William on his deathbed was sound, but he could not discount how William Rufus treated Rayne. This time, there would be no deathbed, no lady leaping from the wall. This time, he would do it right.