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Authors: Bertrice Small

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

Enchantress Mine (34 page)

BOOK: Enchantress Mine
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“Lady, you have delighted me with your desire. I promise you that when we return home to Aelfleah I shall satisfy all those hot little passions of yours. Is there no end to your surprises, Mairin? A beautiful wife with prosperous lands who is eager for her husband! The king has given me more than he realizes. If the truth were known I should this day be the most envied man in England!” He took her hand, turning it over to kiss first her palm, and then the sensitive skin upon the inside of her wrist.
She felt her pulse leap wildly, but whether it was his words, his kisses, or a combination of both, she knew not. “My lord, if this be a honeymoon then I hope it will last our lifetime,” she murmured, “but now I must dress if I am to be ready in time.”
“May I help?” he teased her mischievously, and was surprised once more by her honesty and openness.
“My lord, if you touch me again I shall not be responsible for my actions. If you could send my mother to me I would be grateful.”
She swung her legs over the bed, and stood up.
He stood also, and taking her by her slim shoulders he looked into her violet eyes, feeling his breath catch within his chest. “Do you want me, enchantress, as much as I want you?” he half-groaned, feeling his senses fill to overflowing with her elusive scent and the heat of her body.
“Yes,” she whispered huskily, “I want you, my lord husband. Not merely for the children you will give me, but for the pleasure we can give each other. Basil always said that children grew up, and left their parents but that a man and a woman began and ended together; that they taught one another passion in the beginning, and despite their duties to family and country they should not lose that passion because in the end it would once more be for them as it was in the beginning. Their love and their passion for one another would sustain them in their old age. Oh, Josselin! I suddenly realize that I want you to love me!”

You want me to love you?
But, enchantress,
I do!
Have I not said it? I love you!”
They stood for a long moment gazing at one another. Then Eada’s step upon the stairs brought them back to reality. “Josselin,” said the older woman as she entered the room, a steaming basin in her hands, “Dagda has heated some water for you downstairs. Mairin and I will hurry, and be ready as quickly as possible.”
There was nothing for him to do but return to the hall, but before he went he stole a quick kiss from his wife which brought a smile to her lips and those of her mother, particularly when he whistled his way back down the stairs.
“You are fortunate,” said Eada. “Did I not say he was a good man?”
“You are thinking of father,” said Mairin, who had quickly seen the sad look that crept into Eada’s eyes.
“I miss him,” said Eada softly. “I spent practically my whole life with Aldwine. Now I am alone. It is a strange feeling, my child. I go through the days thinking that something is wrong, that something is missing. Then suddenly I realize what it is. It is your father. He is gone, and I feel for the first time in my life less than whole.”
“But you are not alone, mother! You have me, and you have Josselin. One day you will have grandchildren too. We need you!”
“Then you do not want me to return to my brother’s hall? I may stay at Aelfleah?”
“Stay at Aelfleah? Aelfleah is your home, mother! You are its mistress.”
“No, Mairin. You are now its mistress, and Josselin de Combourg is its lord. Aelfleah is mine no longer.”
Mairin flung her arms about her mother and hugged her hard. “Once,” she said, “my home was stolen from me. I was sent away from the place I loved and knew best. Then you opened your heart and your home to me. You took me for your daughter even though at the time your heart was breaking for Edyth whom you had carried within your womb and raised for five years.
“I do not remember the woman who gave birth to me, mother. It is you who raised me, who rejoiced with me in the hour of my small triumphs, who wept with me over my small misfortunes that at the time seemed so enormous to me. It is you who nursed me when I was sick and scolded me when I was wrong but too stubborn to admit to my faults. Faults which you always forgave. It is you who are my mother. To send you from your home, from a place you love, would be a great sin. But more important, I love you, mother! I want you with me for as long as God will allow.”
Eada looked with tear-filled eyes at Mairin. Her hand went to her mouth to stifle her cry of happiness. When she had recovered herself she said, “I will mourn your father and Brand all my days, but surely God blest me when he gave me you for my own true child, Mairin.”
The two women hugged again, and brushed away each other’s tears. Then with a smile they began to help each other wash and dress for the coronation. They would wear the gowns they had worn yesterday when they had been presented to the king. The only other garments that they possessed were the more serviceable ones that they had worn traveling down to London. No one would notice, they knew, for they were not important. It was very unlikely that they would be close enough to see the king again except at a distance. After the ceremony they would return to the house to change their clothing, and be on their way back to Aelfleah that day.
They were not expected to join the feasting afterward where there would be more male guests for there were few Norman ladies of rank in England yet. It was still considered too dangerous due to the continued unrest in the countryside. Norman women were considered by their men to be ornamental and useful only for the breeding of children, or the making of alliances. Even the queen had not yet set her dainty foot in England.
It was a cold Christmas Day, gray and overcast with just the hint of snow in the air. The streets of London were festive, and filled with both Normans and Saxons of all ranks on their way to the great Cathedral of Westminster, built by the late King Edward, and only a year ago consecrated to God’s service. William had thought it the most appropriate place to be crowned. Most guests were on foot, but here and there were parties of mounted guests who rode even as did the little group from Aelfleah. They had not come to London unescorted, but Josselin was not certain of the temper of the city and had left his men camped on the far side of the London Bridge where there was less likelihood of trouble.
Now as they drew nearer to the great church the pace slowed even more in the press of the crowds. The noise was fearsome. They had been promised a place within the cathedral itself, and leaving their horses with Dagda they joined those on foot to enter Westminster. Josselin could see no one that he knew, but he managed to secure a place for his wife and Eada toward the rear of the great church on the edge of the large crowd where they would have a fine view of William as he passed by.
William of Normandy entered the abbey of Westminster with a firm tread to be hallowed as England’s king according to the ancient British rite. He was crowned and the unction performed by Aldred, the archbishop of York. The late King Edward had been forced by the Godwin faction to remove the legal prelate of Westminster, and replace him with a priest named Stigand whom the pope had disavowed.
It was not a long ceremony, and when it was over Archbishop Aldred presented William I, King of England, to the people, speaking in the English tongue which was quite an innovation. Then Geoffrey, the bishop of Coutances, speaking in his native Norman French, also presented the king to all his subjects.
Unfortunately the mercenary troops guarding Westminster heard the second round of shouts marking the king’s acclamation and thought a rebellion was starting. They promptly set fire to some of the surrounding houses. This error in judgment was quickly corrected, but not before two homes had burned to the ground, and some half a dozen others had been damaged. Horrified, the king gave immediate orders that reparations be paid to the householders. Then he thanked God upon his knees before the main altar that no one had been hurt in the melee.
Torn between the women in his care, and a possible danger to his liege lord, Josselin had hesitated a moment when the furor arose. Then Mairin had hissed at him, “Go to the king, my lord! We will be safe here.” He left them without even looking back. When the confusion had settled William noticed his Breton knight, and smiled briefly at him.
“I am all right, Josselin. Go back to your beautiful wife and to those lands of yours, and help to keep England safe for us. I have been crowned king this day, but if I am to keep my crown then I must unite this country into one. Marriages such as yours, and men like you upon the estates will help me to make England strong.” He held out his hand to the younger man, and Josselin de Combourg, kneeling briefly, kissed it. Rising, he left the king’s presence. William smiled after him, and turning to his brother, Odo, said, “Let us depart for Barking, brother, and receive the homage of my subjects good and true.”
The bishop grinned back at his brother and replied, “Let us depart for Barking, William, because it is a cold day, and at Barking there is food and hot mulled wine awaiting us. Perhaps even a warm maiden who might be half as lovely as the flame-haired wench you so casually gave to de Combourg. Ahh, I envy the man! If she’s as fiery as her hair you’ll be lucky if that border keep gets built. She’ll exhaust him in the nights, and he’ll have nothing left for the days! You would have done better to give him an ugly wife so he would spend all his time out upon the walls driving the workers.” And the bishop laughed uproariously.
“Odo, you are far too worldly for a man of God,” said the king, a slightly disapproving tone to his voice.
“But, William,” replied his brother wisely, “you needed a bishop in the family.”
A small, frosty smile touched William of Normandy’s mouth for the briefest moment, and then he said two words. “To Barking!” and turning, left Westminster.
Odo of Bayeux, a knowing look upon his own face, hurried to catch up with his older brother.
Josselin had shepherded his wife and mother-in-law from the great church. He knew that once the king had left, the crowds would thicken again. He hoped to get quickly away and back to their own house so that they might change their clothing and depart. Despite the disturbance Dagda was exactly where they had left him.
Mairin grinned as he boosted her into her saddle. “Can you imagine anyone forcing
him
to move?” she said to her husband.
“What happened?” demanded the big Irishman. “My heart was in my mouth when those mercenaries began firing the houses.”
Josselin explained, and Dagda nodded. “Undisciplined fools!” he muttered as he climbed upon his horse.
Making their way back through the city, they reached the house where the two women quickly changed from their finery into their more practical traveling garb. The clothing was serviceable, dark and plain to the eye, for despite their armed escort, Josselin did not wish to attract any attention. His objective was to return to Aelfleah as easily and as swiftly as possible. Checking that the coals in the fireplace were completely dead, Dagda took the remaining food and locked the small house behind them. They rode over the London Bridge to meet with their armed escort.
The weather was bitterly cold, and light snow fell intermittently. The damp seemed to creep right through their fur-lined cloaks. Mairin rode with her head tucked as deeply into her hood as she could get it. Even so her cheeks felt frosted with the icy air. A year ago she and Eada had celebrated a quiet but happy Christmas with Brand, and two years ago she had been in Byzantium at Christmastide, and in love with Basil. She felt a tear glaze her red cheeks.
Why am I weeping for
him,
she thought? It was bad enough that he deserted me for a lover, but a male lover? He did not really love me for all his beautiful words! Then she thought of the tender initiation he had given her into the sensual world of passion, and of the exquisite arts of love he had taught her. Surely he had felt some love for her. She wondered if Josselin would enjoy having her practice upon his body those delicious arts in which Basil had instructed her. She very much wanted to make love to Josselin, and she wanted him to make love to her. This husband, she mused, would not leave her a virgin.
They rode until just before dark when they were forced to accept the hospitality of strangers, a Saxon thegn and his family. The thegn had not fought at Hastings having been ill at the time, and his sons were too young to have gone in his stead. Now he and his wife thanked a merciful God that it had been so for several of his neighbors had died at the hands of the Normans. Their women and children had been cast out into the winter cold to wander the roads. At least half a dozen girls of good families had been debauched by their Norman conquerors, and they were not faring well. It was a tragedy repeated all over England. Basically the king had been merciful, but there were those who had boldly defied him even after his victory over Harold Godwinson. To them he showed his wrath.
Their hosts were anxious for the latest word, and eagerly listened to the accounts of the coronation. They nodded their heads approvingly as Eada told them of how the archbishop of York had presented William to his subjects in the English tongue. The thegn almost wept openly when Josselin told him that he would be confirmed in his lands provided he swore his fealty to William. Relief was evident upon his face for he had feared that like his neighbors he would lose his lands.
“The king is not like that,” said Josselin firmly. “Though I am not a Norman I have served him for many years. William of Normandy is a just man. A harsh one I will admit, but a fair and an honest lord. You have but to be loyal and honest to him in return.”
“But can he hold England?” the thegn questioned. “I hear there is yet restlessness in the north, and Exeter as well.”
“King William will hold England you may rest assured,” replied Josselin. “You cannot harm yourselves or your family by giving him your fealty.”
BOOK: Enchantress Mine
7.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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