CHAPTER 6

 

She was gone from his life. Gone utterly. And he was glad.

Guy slumped in his seat. Of course he was glad. Everything was under control in that scrap of a village, he'd punished the wrongdoers and made sure they'd never trouble her or anyone else, at least not where he could reach them. He'd set a good man as bailiff, who would right any other wrongs and see that the village was managed well from now on. And Guy was free at last to devote himself entirely to his own work, without Aelfid's entrancing presence at the castle to distract him.

This hadn't been his plan. He'd meant to take her there, deal out justice, meet her family and ensure they were well. Then bring her back home.

Home? He started at that thought, flushed with embarrassment even in the solitude of his room. Her home was in that village. This was here, his home and not hers, there was no power on Earth nor in Heaven that could ever bridge the gap between them. He might bring her here as his mistress, it was a tempting thought, he dwelt on it for longer than he should. But in the end, he shrugged it off.

He was better off without her. Of course he was. What had he been thinking, he must have gone mad, he'd lost himself entirely in the fantasy of an equal love. Which could never be possible, not between a lord and his serf, not even between man and woman of the same rank. God made them different, set them in different spheres on Earth below, as He did the stars and angels in Heaven above. That wasn't something Guy could change, his power didn't reach that far. He must learn to be content in his own castle, alone among a hundred men, while she slept elsewhere.

Irritably he rose and paced the room. It was too small, cramped even, he flung open the door and strode out into the rest of his domain. All stairs and rooms and walkways, a fortification built to defend against assault. Not a home, not a place where a man and a woman could live in peace together, caring about nothing except their children and their crops. He'd left that fantasy behind him when he ceased to be a child, or ought to have done, it was no dream worthy of a grown man.

Guy paused. Looked around at where he'd ended up. Cursed himself for a fool.

He stood in Aelfid's room. The guest room, he corrected himself swiftly, the room he'd have housed any other temporary visitor in. Though none of them would have been peasants.

He'd raised her up from the dirt, and treated her like a lady - even begun to believe there could be something more between them than the mere physical pleasure any man or beast craved, on occasion, as a diversion from worthier tasks. Visions had hung before him of her installed in this room as a lady and a wife, as a woman he could turn to for confidences and discussions and advice, for comfort and affection, even for love.

He must have been mad.

The fabric lay on the table, abandoned. He reached out and stroked it absently, imagined her body underneath it. Envisaged the colour of her eyes and hair, enhanced into brilliance by the offset against the deep dye. Imagined touching her, undressing her, and then -

He'd have to get married. Nothing else for it. Another woman, a suitable woman, would be perfectly adequate to satisfy that need.

But he didn't want any other woman. Just Aelfid, here, with him. All his, to cherish and care for.

And other matters also. He could imagine that well enough. Didn't need to imagine, because he could remember.

Damn.

He could send her the material, still. A gift for services rendered. Why not? It was fitting behaviour for a generous lord, to reward those who had pleased him. And then forget her, because it was a disgrace for him to allow himself to indulge in dreams of making her his wife.

Guy called for a boy upstairs, and gave curt orders concerning the pile of fabric. Then strode off to his own room, in a worse mood than before.

***

"Beg your pardon for disturbing you, madam." The new bailiff - Luke, Mother called him - ducked in through the doorway and set a bundle on the table. "My lord sends this down, in the hope that it might be useful."

"Thank you." Mother rose, cheeks flushed, and gave Luke a warm smile.

Aelfid tried to do the same, but couldn't manage anything beyond a polite curtsey. Every thought or mention of Guy pained her.

She had been right to come back. Of course she had. Mother needed help with the work. But Aelfid ached with longing to be back at the castle, with Guy, in his room or hers -

She stopped herself. All the rooms were his. None of them belonged to her. She must hold that fact before her mind always.

This was where she belonged. Here, in this pleasant farmhouse with her own family around her. Where they were happy together, equal in every respect, facing no obstacles of power or rank. Where she was useful, needed, and loved.

She just wished she could have all of that, and Guy also.

"If you will permit," Luke said to Mother. He'd taken a seat, the best in the house, and now fastened a concerned gaze on her. "It seems to me that although my predecessor was entirely in the wrong seizing this house and land from you, he did have a point of sorts. Two women and a brace of children ought not to work it alone."

"We can manage," Aelfid said defiantly.

"Hush, child." Mother frowned at her. "That is no way to speak to a village bailiff, nor indeed a guest."

Luke transferred the smile to Aelfid, who felt ashamed of her rudeness. "Given what has occurred, I understand your reaction. But I have no intention of taking anything from you. Instead I would like to offer you a couple of men, lately under my own command, to help with the heavy labour. They're both strong and fit, though maimed by war. You'd house and feed them, but that is all. I think they'll bring in more than enough to earn their keep."

"You are very kind," Mother said. She threw Aelfid an uneasy glance, then turned appealing eyes on Luke. "But with things as they are - I must think of my daughter - you understand."

"I personally guarantee their conduct," Luke said. "You need have no fear on that account. But if you or any of your children are subjected to words or actions that offend you, from them or from anyone else, let me know. I assure you such behaviour will not be tolerated under my jurisdiction."

Mother's smile blossomed. "Thank you so much."

Luke made a slight gesture, as if he'd meant to reach for her hand but checked himself. "If you need anything whatsoever from me, you have only to speak." His voice was low, and emotion flashed in his eyes.

Aelfid stared at him with growing unease. Surely he couldn't be having those sorts of feelings for Mother? It was inconceivable. Obscene. Yet the way he looked at Mother, and the pitch of his voice as he spoke to her, reminded Aelfid inexorably of those treasured moments with Guy.

"My mother tells me it's not good to live alone," Luke said, speaking softly but with a touch of humour. "Not that she would know. My older sister married out, but my younger sister lives in the house with a husband and three children. I doubt anyone gets an instant of peace."

Mother laughed, a light and carefree sound that startled Aelfid. It had been years since Mother laughed like that. And since she looked like this, glowing and happy and...safe.

Aelfid turned suspicious eyes on Luke. Whose affection shone now undisguised, in his eyes and in his smile. Though that could be for his own family, in speaking of them he must recall the love he felt for them, and he'd been away in Normandy for years, Mother said so, he'd served under Guy...

Another stab to the heart brought Aelfid back to her own grief. She wanted Guy here, to look at her like that, to touch her and speak lightly of anything that came into his mind, to smile for sheer joy of seeing her, the way Luke did with Mother now.

Oh, it was obvious. Clear as a harvest sky. Aelfid gave up the fight, and resigned herself to the prospect of a stepfather in the house.

And it could be worse. Much worse. He seemed a good man, kind, cheerful, easy with the boys - who clustered around him now and held him to the promise of a pretend battle out in the yard.

"You'll need to fight well," Luke said, rising with feigned reluctance. "My lord wants only capable soldiers. If you are to have any chance of serving under him, you must prove your skill."

The boys united in a chorus of assurances that their stick swords and reed bows were a match for any enemy.

"We'll see." Luke grinned at Mother. "If you will excuse us, madam? It appears that Angevin troops are ravaging our land."

"That can't be endured," Mother agreed. "You drive them away, and we'll tend the hearth until your safe return."

Aelfid winced. Father hadn't returned. But Mother seemed to have forgotten that.

Mother watched them out of the door, then turned shining-eyed to the bundle. "I wonder what he's brought us? You know, that man is the most - " She stopped in the midst of unravelling the wrap of torn old sacking, and pulled out a swathe of fabric. "Goodness me. Aelfid, look at this! It's beautiful."

Aelfid swallowed. The fabric was indeed beautiful, and also gashingly familiar. She had worked it with her own hands, back in Guy's castle.

"Such quality," Mother breathed. "I'd be proud to have made something this fine. And there's enough here for each of us. A dress for you and me both, with tunics for the boys. Won't that be something for Christmas?"

Aelfid nodded. Her chest hurt so much she could not speak.

"Now, my darling," Mother went on, settling next to her and taking Aelfid's hand. "There is something else I wanted to say. Not in front of Luke, because I don't want him to misunderstand. But he's an important man, bailiff here now, and with the lord's full confidence. We need to show him all appropriate respect. I don't want to hear any sauciness towards him from you."

Aelfid nodded again. There wasn't anything else to do. Mother was right.

"It is very early," Mother went on. "I don't want to indulge in hopes beyond my standing in life. But if he should so happen to be inclined towards marriage, it would be a very fine thing for all of us. Especially you."

Aelfid found her voice. "Why me?"

"Because of the shameless way you flaunted yourself before the lord and all his men," Mother said coldly. "Don't imagine the village hasn't been in a stir about it. I've stuck up for you as best I can, but you left us in a dreadful mess with that heedless and selfish behaviour. No one will forget it in a hurry, but with Luke on our side we can brave that. It should at least silence the worst of the gossip-mongers."

Aelfid stared at her mother, while anger sparked and flamed within her heart. "I did not flaunt myself."

"You offered yourself to them as if - "

"That was Osulf," Aelfid broke in, her voice rising with incredulity. "I never said a word."

"Well, and what reason did he have to imagine you willing to be offered?" Mother's voice was crisp. "I've warned you what that pretty face of yours will do to men. And still you had to stand there and make eyes at an entire company, and a lord no less - "

Aelfid rose sharply. "That's so unfair of you."

"Nevertheless, it is the truth. And it is I and the little ones who've suffered for it. God knows I'm grateful you came to no harm." Mother seized Aelfid's hand and clutched it tight. "You have no idea how frightened I've been. But since you didn't, and since you came safely back to us, I must tell you that your behaviour did not only expose you to great danger, it exposed us to unpleasant gossip too."

Aelfid struggled to calm her breathing. "I am very sorry to have caused you distress," she said, rather curtly.

"Thank you," Mother said. "You are a dear girl, if thoughtless. But having a father in the house will cure you, I hope. Luke will teach you to - "

"Luke is not my father."

"If what I hope for comes to pass," Mother said, blushing, "then he will become so."

"My father died in Normandy," Aelfid said, and her voice rang hard and cold as Guy's own in delivering a verdict. "I remember it, even if you don't. And no other man will ever take his place."

They glared at each other. Mother released Aelfid's hand. "That's an ungrateful attitude to have. I hope you'll learn better sense, and soon. Whether you do or not, I insist that you learn better manners. Immediately."

Aelfid stormed out of the house, past the squealing boys and Luke whose friendly smile changed to a puzzled frown as she ignored him. She stalked off down the path into the meadows, and gave herself over to bitter thoughts.

***

Guy ought to be satisfied with himself. He'd settled every outstanding complaint, progressed through every part of his estate, heard every case and made every decision that required his immediate attention. He'd even found occasion to verify that the damned fabric had been sent out in accordance with his orders, and had been gratefully received by Aelfid's family. Where it would presumably be put to use, whether to adorn her or cover the rest of them, he didn't much care which. Not any more.

He had, in other words, discharged every obligation properly due to a lord, and ought to feel content.

Instead he glowered to himself, solitary in his room, glaring at the empty bed as if it offended him. Which it did. Fine as it was, comfortable, valuable, it lacked the one thing that made it worthwhile in his eyes. There was no Aelfid in it.

And in reviewing his own conduct, all the events that led up to this infuriating conclusion, he could not escape the idea that he'd behaved like a complete and utter rat.

Take a young woman from her family, seduce her into his bed, use her for his pleasure, and then return her with an offhand gift of a few bundles of fabric - that did not strike him as fitting behaviour from a lord with pretensions to decency. Commonplace, of course: he doubted there was a man living who'd blame him for indulging in it. But nothing to admire himself for.

He wanted to see Aelfid. Ensure that she was happy and well, wanting for nothing, loved and cared for by her own family, within her own home. She belonged with them, of course she did.

Because what kind of place was this to bring her to? A fortress, hard and cold and unforgiving. Like himself.

The castle hadn't always been so gloomy. He remembered how pleasant a home it had been during his mother's time. Brighter, and softer, and altogether more welcoming. Perhaps it was only a trick of his memory, decking out the days of childhood in sweeter colours than they had carried in truth. But he felt certain that everything had been better then. Long ago, before all the slaughter began.

He didn't want to think about that. Normandy lay behind him. He'd left it for good, he wasn't going back there. Not any more.

Better to think about the castle. His home, which increasingly did not feel like a home at all. Which could become one again, if only he brought a woman into it. The right woman.

Aelfid.

It was only her he wanted. Guy realised that now. He could brave any disapproval, any contempt, whether disbelief from his inferiors or sneers from men of his own rank and above. He wouldn't care, if he could only have her back.

But what had he done? Paid her off, like a hired whore. She wouldn't receive him as a gift, now that he'd shown her what he truly thought of her. And while he certainly held power enough to compel her, that was not the kind of man he would ever allow himself to be.

Which meant she was gone from his life forever. He'd cast her back into the dirt, and there she must remain.

Marry some other, luckier man. The bastard from the next village along, maybe. Guy had kept eyes and ears open on his travels around the estate, but caught no hint of who she might have favoured before. Which was just as well, because he would have gone hard on the man if he'd found him.

Luke might know.

Of course, Luke might be in the market for a wife.

Guy thrust that thought aside before he could be tempted to plot murder against his own friend and bailiff.

He would visit her village, though. Make sure all was well. Listen to Luke's report in person. And if he should chance to catch a glimpse of Aelfid, or mention of her, perhaps he could find a way to show her that he did still care for her, held her in esteem, that if it hadn't been for the gulf between them he'd have had no hesitation in keeping her as his wife and not merely his whore.

He indulged it for a moment, the dream of taking her lawfully to bed, this bed, which lay so empty before him.

But that took him right back to where he'd started, which meant he'd made no progress at all.

Irritably Guy splashed his hands and face with fresh water, dried himself without particular care, stripped for bed. Promised himself he would go soon, tomorrow perhaps or the day after, whenever he could work up the nerve to meet Aelfid's eyes again and discover the contempt she held him in now.

***

Aelfid pulled at the spiky branch that snagged the cloth of her skirt. She wanted to tear at it, rip the thorns from the fabric by sheer force. But that would shred the cloth, and this was still the only dress she had. Mother was making tunics for the boys, vivid bright, out of the material Guy had sent. Aelfid knew she ought to finish her own dress, Mother wanted her to look smart when Luke visited. But she didn't have the heart for it, not any more.

So she made excuses. To avoid the sewing, and to keep away from the farm. She'd been up at the croft all morning, and only now returned, sweaty and stained, for a cursory wash and a bite to eat. In her sole dress, which looked even worse than before. Thankfully no one would see her, provided she slipped down the scrubby slope and clambered over the low fence at the back of the farm.

Not that it mattered much if anyone saw. But Aelfid didn't feel like braving her mother's meaningful sighs.

She managed to free herself from the branch at last, and hurried down the slope as best she could. Climbed over the fence, shooed at the hens who waddled over to see if she was minded to feed them, then ran up to the house.

Only when she rounded the corner did she see the horsemen. A whole cluster of them, waiting patiently further down the lane. Presumably they were on the lord's business, something to do with Luke's governance of the village. He wasn't among them, though. Nor was Guy - Aelfid checked, surreptitiously, and flushed to think that he might see her in this state. But he wasn't there.

She didn't stay to gaze further, didn't want to draw attention to herself. So she ducked quickly in through the door, and crossed the kitchen with a hurried step to get into Mother's room and change.

Stopped dead as she saw Guy seated by the table, with Luke and Mother, and staring right at her.

"My lord." Aelfid curtsied, trembling. She felt faint, and her voice shook. In a silly effort to hide the stains and rips on her dress, she clutched at it with grimy hands.

Guy merely nodded, said nothing at all, turned back to Luke. Who went on speaking, as if he had been part way through a sentence when she appeared.

Which he had, Aelfid realised as she hid in Mother's room and attempted to make herself presentable. They were part way through discussing the management of the farm. There wasn't much to say: the new men worked hard, which freed Aelfid to spend all day at the croft if she chose. And although they ate plenty, the stores held up so far.

"Good." Guy's voice cut across the discussion, low and firm, making her shiver. "That is all I wanted to know. If there's hardship here or anywhere else, Luke, you'll authorise a dole."

"Thank you," Mother said, and the intense gratitude in her voice made tears start to Aelfid's eyes.

It would all be well. They'd go on here, as a family, well fed and happy. Luke was a good man, and Mother deserved both support and affection. As for Aelfid herself, she would have to learn to be content with memories.

She took a deep breath in an effort to compose herself, then emerged into the kitchen with what she hoped was a serene expression. Hovered by the door, meekly silent, and waited to see if anyone wanted anything from her.

She tried not to glance at Guy, but it was impossible. He sat so close that if she reached out she could rest her fingertips on his shoulder. Aelfid imagined that, felt the warmth of him under her touch. Remembered caressing his naked skin, smooth over the play of strong muscle. Her breathing shortened, and her belly grew uncomfortably hot.

He looked up at her then, met her gaze full on. She felt herself falling, as she had done in his castle, as she had done when she first saw him there on the road and knew he was the only man in the world for her.

Silence settled around her, and the startled glances from Luke and Mother prickled on her skin. But she didn't care, couldn't care, because all her world lay contained in the man who watched her now, with a heat in his gaze that brought an answering heat to her own. She longed to touch him, felt an overwhelming urge to take the last step that separated them and fall into his arms.

"Well." Guy broke the moment, looked away. Stared at the table, then rose abruptly and strode towards the door. "I am glad you have all that you need. Luke?"

"Sir." Luke rose also, lingered with a gentle touch on Mother's arm and a rueful smile towards Aelfid. Then followed Guy who ducked out into the yard and disappeared without another word.

Aelfid plucked at her dress. Tears burned in her eyes.

He didn't care about her. Never had done, not really. It was all over between them, and what she had imagined they shared stood revealed now as the tawdry fantasies of a foolish and prideful girl.

"Such a kind man," Mother said, in a voice mellow with affection. "And we are lucky to have so generous a lord. He asked after you, even - wanted to know that you were well." She rose, bustled past Aelfid towards the splintering basket that held all their sewing. "You know, we should finish these clothes. I was quite ashamed to appear before his lordship in these rags. It seemed disrespectful, as if we didn't appreciate his wonderful gift. He asked if the materials had arrived, so I showed him what we're making." Mother pulled out Aelfid's dress and laid it on the table. "This doesn't want much to finish. Hop to it, girl, and I'll set out dinner for us."

Aelfid slumped onto the stool where Guy had sat, and pulled the fabric towards her.

"At least he paid you." Mother paused to stroke Aelfid's hair. "Things could have been a lot worse."

Aelfid nodded mutely. If she spoke at all, she was bound to cry.

"It will make you a fine dress," Mother went on as Aelfid began to sew. "Do you well to get married in. And I think we should find you a husband, dear. Just in case, you know."

Aelfid winced as the needle stabbed into her finger. Blood welled up in a large tear and wept into the cloth. She stuck the fingertip in her mouth and sucked at it until the salty taste subsided.

***

Guy rode home in a storm of emotion. Aelfid's unexpected appearance, luminous with fresh air and good health, had unsettled him completely. He'd been half relieved to find her not at home, listened to her respectful and kind-hearted mother with interest, watched Luke's smitten gaze with amusement. Sat back content in the knowledge that a farm and a family were once more safe and thriving on his land.

Then all of a sudden Aelfid stood there, dishevelled and beautiful and heartrendingly out of his reach. He'd tried not to watch her, but it was impossible - the room was small, she was forced to stand close, he'd been near enough to touch her.

When their eyes met, it was like that first fateful meeting on the road. He'd had the sense of falling into endless light, and only with a supreme effort pulled himself back to reality.

In truth, he'd come within a hair's breadth of sweeping Aelfid into his arms and declaring his love for her, right there in front of her mother and his own trusted man. Embarrassingly, he almost wished he'd given in to that impulse.

But it was too late now. He'd left her, hurriedly because he did not trust himself to speak. The visit had achieved its objective, he knew now that she was safe and well and did not resent him. That brought joy to his heart, he revelled in the thought until his horse began to dance under him and he forced himself back to practical matters. But she was happy, she was well, she did not hate him. Not if that expression in her eyes was anything to go by - attentive, intense, like during the intimacy they had shared. Almost he could delude himself into imagining that she also had experienced that sense of falling, that like him she had been on the verge of reaching out, and holding on, and never letting go.

But she'd made no move, and neither had he. Which was for the best, for all concerned.

As he reached the castle, he found outriders waiting for him in the hall.

"My lord," one of them said, "your lady mother bids me greet you and say she is on her way to visit and will arrive tomorrow after noon."

Guy blinked. "My mother?" She was welcome, of course - and by good fortune, he had a suitable chamber to spare. He nodded to one of his own men, and was conscious of a pang to the heart as he recognised Aelfid's brother. "Make the guest room ready." The youth bowed and took off with a brisk step. Guy watched him, strove to treasure every hint of resemblance. There was something in common there, beyond the vivid eyes and beautiful face: they both moved with alacrity, as if accustomed to useful work.

Good. It was what Guy liked to see in a man. No need for it in a woman, he had no work for her to do here in any case.

Guy thrust aside the thoughts of Aelfid, and began to make preparations for his mother's entertainment.

***

"One must make allowance for the children, you know," Mother said. "She's besotted with them, of course."

"Naturally." Guy maintained an unbroken mask of polite agreement, but inwardly he smiled. This had been the tenor of the conversation since his mother arrived.

His sister, it appeared, preferred to run her own household rather than allow Mother to do it for her. Thwarted at every turn, Mother had retreated to her former home to brood on her misfortunes.

Which meant Guy's role was to listen patiently to a litany of complaints, thinly disguised as compliments. He endured it quietly, and with a measure of sympathy. Mother was used to being in charge, and taking second place did not come easily to her.

Guy remembered how he'd chafed under his father's command during their last campaign. So he agreed that it was delightful to see a young woman know her own mind even if it meant she made foolish decisions, praised Mother's great fortitude in allowing disorder to reign, shook his head at each new instance of depravity.

"The children are charming," Mother continued. "So excited about everything. And it is good that she makes their happiness her main concern. It doesn't matter that a few minor tasks remain undone - sometimes for weeks - "

"Not at all."

"And if my own small hints are not always heeded, that is hardly surprising. We all have our own methods. Besides, she will learn best from her own mistakes."

"Certainly." Guy kept his expression grave. "However, I can imagine it does not create the most orderly environment for you. I hope you will consider remaining here for a while, or perhaps even make this your home again."

His mother sighed. "You are a darling boy, but I really don't think I can. She needs me, though she imagines she can do better by herself. Still, I felt I needed holiday. Away from all the bustle, you know. And I always loved this place. We were so happy here, when your father was alive." Her expression grew wistful as she looked around the room.

"We were," Guy agreed, and felt the enormity of loss.

"Though you could certainly do more," Mother went on. "Those walls are a disgrace. And I notice you had no musicians at dinner."

"I've been away," Guy said in his own defence. "Campaigning."

"But you are back now, dear. And really, one must ensure things are done properly. When your father went to Normandy - " She lost herself in reminiscences.

Guy courteously refrained from pointing out that he'd served alongside his father on no fewer than three campaigns, and needed no lectures on how things had been managed then. Instead he let her talk, and remembered with her, and wished for Aelfid.

"You should marry," Mother said eventually. "Then I could stay here to advise on household matters. It really is a shame you've made no useful connections that way. Are there no suitable daughters anywhere near?"

"Not many," Guy said, omitting to mention that he'd failed to ask. But he thought of Aelfid, vivid-eyed and beautiful, regarding this simple place with awe and wonder. He saw it now through her eyes, compared it with the plain but functional farmhouse she lived in. Did not recall why he'd imagined them so very far apart. One was large and one was small, but with such an unequal number of people to house the discrepancy did not seem so great. Food and shelter and human warmth: what more did anyone need?

"It need not be so fine a match," Mother said. "A well-behaved girl of good family, with a portion of land, perhaps towards the coast - one must be mindful of threats from across the Channel."

"Indeed one must."

"And with sound connections," Mother went on. "Titles. Patronage."

"We don't need those."

Mother blinked at him, caught in mid-flow. "I suppose not. But you must think strategically."

"Always." Guy allowed himself one rebellious memory of Aelfid, soft and yielding in his arms. "I'd like there to be affection, too."

"Oh, that will come. In time. And of course, I shall be here to teach her everything that pertains to - well - matters between husband and wife."

"I'm sure she'll be grateful," Guy murmured, while Aelfid's wide respectful eyes shone before his mind. His mother would melt under their gaze. As he had done.

Guy rose. "Would you care to ride out with me? A short excursion, while you tell me what the bishops have been up to recently."

"What a splendid idea." His mother rose likewise, with an eagerness that reminded him of Aelfid pleading for work. "And if there are any little matters you want my advice on - of course, I would never presume to suggest how you should run your own estate - "

Guy leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I know you managed it for years, whenever my father was away, and that you managed it well. Come and see what I've done with it, and tell me everywhere I'm going wrong."

***

There. It was done. Aelfid held the dress up before it and surveyed it with satisfaction. Neatly stitched, it showed the lovely fall of the fine material, and the contrasting thread decoration at the borders brought out the full effect of the deep hue.

On impulse, she tore off her old dress and pulled the new material over her instead. It was warm, resting around her like an affectionate embrace. She trailed her hands over it, and marvelled at how soft and clingy it felt under her touch.

Pity her shift did not match the quality. But there was fresh linen also in the pile that Guy had sent. She could make herself a new one out of that. And a belt that made her gasp at its beauty, sleek leather with an intricate silver buckle, the kind any noble lady might wear. Aelfid fastened it around her waist, where it promptly slipped to her hips. It was made for a man, not a woman. But she didn't mind, just left it there to glitter in the gloom.

She wished she could see herself in full, the way others might see her, face and figure and all. As it was, she had to content herself with pulling down a strand of hair to rest against the fabric, stroking the smooth folds above the belt, squinting to see how the material traced the forms of her chest and hips. But she couldn't see her face, didn't know how it looked above such magnificence, couldn't tell if she resembled a lady or if she seemed rather a monster out of children's tales, poorly concealed in human guise.

Mother could tell. Aelfid wandered outside, to where Luke was teaching the boys how to clean leather. Mother sat on a bench in the shade, pretending to sew but really watching the scene. And it was heartwarming, Aelfid reflected, to see the two little figures entirely at peace, bent on industrious work while Luke recounted tales of his exploits in Normandy.

"Well, look at you." Mother laid down her sewing entirely and turned to Aelfid with shining eyes. "That is a wonderful colour."

Aelfid preened. She could feel beautiful now, without fear of what harassment it might lead to.

"Very pretty," Luke concurred, and offered her an approving nod. He got no further than that before the boys clamoured for him to resume his tale, and he did so with cheerful grace.

Aelfid relaxed, breathed out from her stomach, dared to believe at last that all their troubles were truly over. And it was part thanks to her. If she hadn't gone with Guy when the opportunity offered, if she hadn't found the passion and courage to speak to him honestly, things might not have reached such a miraculous conclusion. Despite her own foolishness, her vanity in imagining that such an encounter might lead to more, it was worth any amount of grief at her own loss to see her family so happy and content.

Hoofbeats from the lane startled her. A party of horsemen approached at a leisurely pace, as if on their way to somewhere else entirely. Aelfid wandered over, curious. She felt only one quick hot stab at the thought that Guy might be among them, but rapidly dismissed the idea. He had no reason to visit. And she didn't want him to, not really. It was too painful to have him near.

But he was. She saw him dazzlingly clear, illuminated by the stark sunshine. Then she saw the lady beside him, and she could have wept. Because this was a woman of his own station in life, with a sweeping dress that made Aelfid ashamed of her own clumsy workmanship, seated on horseback with an air of relaxed confidence, chatting to Guy with all the ease of affectionate friendship. This was a lady he could marry.

Perhaps one he'd already married. Aelfid's heart froze over. She'd heard no such news, but then no one had cause to tell her. It wasn't as if anyone but herself could have had such dreams...

Guy checked his horse then, with a sudden quick movement as if he'd heard the call from her heart to his. Stared right across to where she stood, and the intensity of his gaze tore the breath from her lungs.

He was the only man she could ever marry. The only man she could ever love. She knew that now, with a clarity that pained her, even as the full extent of her folly was laid bare.

The lady turned to look at her also, with surprise and interest. And then back at Guy. They were too far away for Aelfid to hear what words were spoken, but the tone was not hostile.

And then Guy broke the line, rode across to where Aelfid stood hot and embarrassed in her ridiculously presumptuous dress. Bowed to her, there in the saddle, as if she were a lady and he not her lord.

"You look beautiful," he said.

Aelfid smiled up at him. All at once she felt completely at peace - like the boys under Luke's tutelage, like Mother watching them thrive. Everything was well with the world, because Guy was here and he saw her and he cared enough to stop and speak with her, even though his wife was watching.

Aelfid curtsied. "I thank your lordship."

Guy sat utterly still. Then swung himself off the horse, so abruptly that both Aelfid and the animal shied. He threw aside the reins, took each of Aelfid's hands in his, and said: "Will you not call me by name?"

Aelfid tried to speak, but found that she couldn't.

"Hell," Guy muttered. "I had meant to lead up to this, but... Would you call me 'husband', then?"

She stared at him, still mute. Then turned at the thuds of hooves approaching, looked up into the face of the lady who'd accompanied him. Cursed herself for a fool, because the lady was far older than he, and there was no mistaking those eyes.

"This is my mother," Guy said. "I've met yours, you'll meet mine." He put one arm around Aelfid's shoulders, and the warm weight of it gave her comfort. "Kindly give greeting to my intended wife."

Utter silence hung over them all. The lady turned a stunned expression first to Aelfid and then to Guy. "You did not mention any such plans to me before."

Nor me, Aelfid's heart whispered. She could not believe it, there must be some error. Guy was teasing her, perhaps, or else she was dreaming, lost on the meandering paths of her own fevered imagination. Lords did not marry peasant girls.

"I brought you to meet her," Guy said cheerfully. "What more do you want?" He turned to Aelfid and kissed her brow, lightly, a soft caress. "Don't look so startled. Even lords can change their minds."

She began to believe it now. Because he was here with her, holding her safe within his arms, smiling at her with warm affection. Not a lord in this moment, not with her. Just a man, the only man she wanted.

"Very charming," the lady admitted, in a tone not so much disapproving as frankly bewildered. "But, my dear - " She raised her head to scan the surrounding landscape, as if expecting a castle to have sprung up in the midst of shorn fields. "Who is she?"

Aelfid looked to Guy, who merely smiled. That gave her courage enough to say: "If it please your ladyship, I am Aelfid."

"But where on earth do you live?"

"Here," Aelfid said simply. Guy squeezed her shoulders. "On his lordship's - on Guy's land."

The lady transferred the stare to Guy. "Am I to understand that you - that she - that there is a... prior understanding of some sort?"

"Yes," Guy said with fearless confidence. "And I mean to marry her on the strength of it. Entirely unsuitable, I agree. Terrible scandal. But she's the woman I've chosen, and I hope you will give us your blessing. You'll like her. She's a good worker."

Aelfid choked back a laugh.

"I've decided to keep women at the castle again," Guy went on. "Brightens up the place. Which naturally means marriage. Anything else would be disgraceful. Would you take charge of it, Mother? Attendants and so forth. I know I can rely on you."

The lady mellowed visibly, and began to regard Aelfid with something approaching kindness. "Yes, of course. Naturally. The daughter of a respectable farmer... A local family, that is wise. One likes to maintain close ties with the community." She peered up towards the farmhouse. "Is that her father?"

"My bailiff," Guy said. "Excellent man. Distinguished himself in my service in Normandy."

"I see." The lady positively smiled at Aelfid. "Well, then, I suppose we had better get acquainted."

Aelfid smiled back, tremulously, but with dawning hope. "I should like that very much."

"Perhaps we'll stay and take a bite of food. We can spare half an hour." The lady turned her horse and began to ride towards the farmhouse.

Aelfid shot a panicked glance at Guy. "It's not a fine place at all - "

"I've seen it," Guy broke in. "Clean and solid and well maintained. God knows I've slept in worse."

She stood awed by this sudden change in her good fortune. Groped for fear, but found that it had fled. Guy was with her, shining-eyed and smiling, the man she had beheld in that one sacred moment on the road. She had known then what she knew now: this was his own true self and hers. They belonged together, and together they would make all things right.

"Are you truly serious?" she asked him earnestly, and shivered at her own frankness of speech. "About marriage. Because it's not fitting for a lord and a peasant girl - "

He grinned at her. "I am lord, so I decide what is fitting. Besides, who's to say it hasn't happened before? I can trace my own family six generations back, but before then?" Guy shrugged. "What of yourself? Any Norman lords among your ancestry? There might have been, you know."

Aelfid smothered a laugh. "Mother did tell me a few tales. She meant them as a warning."

"Consider them a promise." He grew serious. "With a happy ending, in case that was lacking in her version of events. I know what men can be - lords among them, too. But I strive to be a good one."

"You are," Aelfid whispered. "The very best of lords."

He kissed her gently, as if he also trod delicately on this new and unfamiliar road. "Will you forgive me for the way I behaved? It is not easy to shake off this cloak of privilege. But with you, I will attempt it."

"You've done nothing wrong," Aelfid said. The memory of savaged backs rose before her mind. But perhaps Osulf and his uncle had deserved every lash - not only for what they had done to her family and herself, but because they had betrayed the trust of their lord and their village too. If men of power turned to evil, the harvest could be dreadful indeed.

"I must be harsh at times," Guy said. "But I've been too harsh for too long. I want to learn how to be gentle again."

Aelfid reached up to caress his cheek. "Did I complain?"

Guy smiled at that. "No. But please do, if you have cause."

He turned and motioned to one of the men, who led a horse forward. Aelfid recognised with joy the animal she'd ridden all the way here, small and patient and easy to manage.

"Mother imagined I was bringing her a spare mount," Guy said. "Can't offer a guess as to why." He looked deep into Aelfid's eyes. This time she did not fall, because she had already landed in a soft place brilliant with light. "Would you ride out with me, madam?"

"I will," Aelfid said, breathless. "If you'll teach me how."

"Anything." He lifted her into the saddle, then stood there beneath her, all one with the dirt and grass, looking up at her as if in supplication.

Thus mounted, she towered above him, surrounded by air and sky. And she realised then that there was no true difference between herself and this man. Not really: not before God. It was only a matter of height.

"I don't want a life without you," Guy said. "I've understood that at last. God knows what work I'll find for you to do around the castle - although I dare say my mother will take care of it. But I want you with me. In my home." He lowered his voice. "And in my bed."

Aelfid reached out for him, touched his hand that rested lightly on the reins. "I want that also."

Guy led her slowly towards the house, walking beside her as she rode. The farm that lay beside them was beautiful, Aelfid saw: smaller and humbler than his castle, certainly, but with a dignity that came from long years of use. It was a good home to her family, had been for generations, and there was nothing low or contemptible about that.

And she was leaving it, because her family did not need her any more. They would be happy, and they would be safe. Their welfare was assured. She could go her own way without fear.

"Do you think I can learn to be a lady?" she asked Guy, her confidence faltering at the sight of his mother arriving in splendour to greet her own mother who rose politely from the seat under the trees.

"Of course." Guy smiled up at her. "As I learned to be a lord. We all have to begin somewhere."

 

***