Medieval Brides. Anne Herries

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      Inside, Cecily had no thoughts for Breton knights who could not speak English. She only had eyes for Gudrun. She found her sitting on a wall bench, partially screened by the looped-back sleeping curtain. The veil that covered Gudrun’s brown hair was drawn forward round her shoulders for modesty as her gown was unlaced at the front. She was discreetly suckling a newborn baby.

      Philip! Cecily hurried over, trying to disguise her eagerness. Philip was smaller than she had imagined, with a wrinkled face and an astonishing crest of thick dark hair. One tiny hand was splayed out on Gudrun’s breast, and his eyes were shut, but he was feeding strongly. Her brother. The rightful heir to Fulford Hall.

      ‘Lady Cecily!’ Gudrun’s gasp quickly turned into a smile of relief and welcome. ‘This is Philip.’

      Cecily dropped to her knees on the rushes and reached out to stroke the tiny head. ‘Oh, Gudrun. He’s beautiful.’

      Gudrun’s expression softened. ‘Isn’t he?’

      Another baby, a plump, rosy-cheeked bundle, was asleep in a reed basket by Gudrun’s feet. Gently, Cecily stroked a chubby little foot that was sticking out of its coverlet. ‘And this? Who is this?’ She tucked the cover back in place.

      Gudrun smiled. ‘That is my Agatha.’

      ‘Agatha. She is lovely too.’

      Cecily’s gaze was drawn back to her brother. And while she struggled with yet more tears Gudrun lowered her voice. ‘I’m right glad you are come, my lady. Wilf and I have been afraid with these—’ she jerked her eyes in the direction of Richard and his companions by the central hearth ‘—come here. Afraid of what they might do. Not knowing what would be best for this little one—whether to stay, or go like your sister. But with you home…you will know what to do. You will stay, won’t you, my lady?’

      ‘Yes, I’m to marry Sir Adam.’

      Gudrun’s eyes widened, and she looked at Cecily’s habit, at the wooden cross on her breast. ‘You, dear?’

      Cecily had to smile. Gudrun had not changed, thank the Lord. Sometimes she would remember, and call Cecily by her title, but more often a simple ‘dear’ would suffice. Cecily would have had it no other way.

      A shadow fell across the entrance. Adam. He’d removed his chainmail and sword, and a plain green tunic covered those broad shoulders; a belt with a silver buckle encircled that slim waist. As Cecily had observed in the convent, he appeared slighter without his armour. His shape pleased her eyes. He was her enemy but, unlikely as it seemed, she liked looking at him. It was most disorientating. He marched to the fire, holding his hands out to the blaze. Nail-bitten fingers, she recalled. Sir Richard addressed him and Adam answered, even as his eyes roamed the room and came to rest on her.

      He always does that when he enters a room and I am already there. He looks for me. He watches me. And I do not think it is because I please his eyes—no, he is suspicious of me. I must be on my guard, for Philip’s sake.

      ‘Well, I don’t know,’ Gudrun was saying. ‘I thought you were promised to God. But, since your sister would have none of him, perhaps it’s for the best.’

      ‘Yes. I…I think so. Tell me how things stand at Fulford.’

      Gudrun rattled on, bringing Cecily up to date: Lufu the cook had vanished; they were short of butchered meat; Gudrun and her husband Wilf needed help with running the household as Marie, her mother’s maidservant, had been worse than useless since Lady Philippa’s death…

      While Gudrun talked, Cecily searched for changes in the Hall itself. The whitewashed walls, blackened by smoke from the central hearth, the lofty roof space, criss-crossed СКАЧАТЬ