Runaway Lady, Conquering Lord. Carol Townend

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ

      ‘And…?’

      Gytha smiled sadly at Henri and shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter what he said. I think you should forget it.’

      ‘He is still bitter? He knows that I live here?’

      ‘Yes to both questions,’ Gytha said.

      Emma felt the blood drain from her face. ‘I thought I could escape him here, that I would be safe among all these people. If I had gone back to Fulford, Judhael would have found me in a moment. How did he find me?’

      Gytha lifted her shoulders, her eyes were wide and concerned. ‘I have no idea, but it wouldn’t take much to discover your whereabouts. A question here, a question there.’

      ‘I have prayed and prayed that he would never come back.’

      ‘Well, Judhael and Azor have both returned and somehow Judhael has learned that you live here.’

      ‘Gytha, he said something else, didn’t he?’

      Gytha dropped the grain scoop back into the sack and dusted down her hands.

      ‘Gytha?’

      Gytha pursed her lips and something clicked in Emma’s mind. Crossing the floor in two strides, she took Gytha’s arms and looked at her wrists. Mercifully, they were unmarked. ‘He threatened you, didn’t he? And Bertha—Judhael must have been to see her, too.’ She scrubbed at her forehead. ‘What was it Bertha said—something about desperate friends having returned…?’

      ‘Emma, what are you talking about?’

      ‘Judhael! He must have threatened Bertha, which is why she has stopped giving me work—’

      ‘Bertha had no work for you?’

      ‘Apparently not. There were several baskets of linen lined up to be washed, but I wasn’t allowed near them. Judhael must have paid her a visit, don’t you see?’

      ‘I am beginning to. He certainly wants you back.’

      ‘The man is mad! After what he did up at SevenWells Hill, the way he beat Lufu when he learned it was she who told Cecily the location of the rebel camp. Lufu was only trying to help get my baby brother to safety.’ Cold sweat was trickling down Emma’s back. She looked at her son, at Judhael’s son. If Judhael got hold of Henri—It didn’t bear thinking about. ‘I’ll never go back to him, never!’

      ‘Of course not. Never fear, we shall pay him no mind. We managed to put out the fire and—’

      Emma’s blood turned to ice. ‘Judhael set the fire?’

      ‘We are not sure, but it seems likely. It happened shortly after his visit. I think it is meant as a warning. He suggested we throw you out.’ Gytha grimaced. ‘Lord, I hadn’t meant to tell you that. Emma, we shall pay him no mind.’

      ‘Pay him no mind? Gytha, the man tries to burn down the mill and you say pay him no mind! What if he had set the fire at night and no one noticed until it was too late? We might have been fried in our beds!’

      ‘Hush, Emma, you are alarming Henri. And anyway, no one was hurt.’

      ‘Henri and I shall have to leave.’

      ‘Nonsense, that is exactly what he wants!’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Judhael wants you back.’

      ‘If he thinks threatening my friends is going to make me go back to him, then the war with the Normans had damaged him more than I realised.’ She sucked in a breath. ‘Do you think he knows about Henri?’

      Gytha shook her head. ‘I doubt it, he didn’t mention him.’

      ‘That at least is one mercy. But I won’t have him threatening you. God help us. I like being here with you and Henri does, too. Don’t you, Henri?’

      ‘Yes, Mama.’

      ‘Emma, it isn’t right that Judhael should be threatening you. You are a lady—’

      ‘Not any more I’m not.’

      ‘Yes, you are. Your father was Thane of Fulford. Judhael was only a housecarl.’

      Emma sighed. ‘Be that as it may, I won’t bring trouble to your door. Henri and I must leave.’ ‘Judhael said he would return tomorrow.’

      ‘I shall be gone by then.’

      ‘You can’t go to Fulford.’

      ‘No, I can’t, Judhael is doubtless waiting for me to do just that.’

      ‘Where then? Where will you go?’

       Chapter Two

      Sir Richard of Asculf was in the castle stables when the messengers arrived.

      Richard was stripped to the waist and his broad shoulders gleamed with sweat, for he himself was personally grooming his destrier, the grey he had in a whimsical moment named Roland. Outside he could clearly hear the chink, chink, chink of a mason’s chisel. Work was being done on the gatehouse.

      Since he had taken up the reins of command again in Winchester, Richard did not expect to get as much exercise as a man in his prime needed, and he enjoyed grooming Roland. He was fond of the great beast; they had been through much together. Outside, his two wolfhounds lounged in some loose straw that had escaped into the bailey, eyes closed as they drowsed in the sun. He had no idea where the white mongrel was—scrounging a bone from the kitchens, perhaps? That dog was always hungry.

      The rattle of hoofs on the cobbles alerted Richard to new arrivals. Glancing up, he shoved back his glossy brown hair and almost immediately four riders trotted into view, framed by the doorway. Their horses were flecked with foam, almost blown.

      A crease formed in Richard’s brow. ‘Geoffrey!’

      His squire’s head popped up from the next stall, where he was at work on his own horse. ‘Sir?’

      ‘See what those men want, will you?’

      ‘Yes, sir.’

      ‘Make sure they are offered refreshments and if they have dispatches, tell them I will meet them in the solar in half an hour when I’ve finished here. Oh, and pick out good grooms for those horses, they have been ridden too hard.’

      ‘Yes, sir.’

      Geoffrey went out into the bailey and Richard resumed brushing Roland’s coat. Roland snorted and snuffled and pushed against his hand. ‘Easy, boy. You like that, do you?’

      A shadow fell over him. ‘Sir?’

      ‘Geoffrey?’

      ‘It…it is not dispatches, sir. They have a personal message СКАЧАТЬ