“If you are good, then it will not be needed. If you cannot control your tongue, then further punishment will require you to present your arse for my attention. I find a red bottom quite satisfying. I do not enjoy making it so if I have to hold you down and administer a beating without your cooperation. Think upon that, sweet Tilda.”
“Then I shall be forgiven?”
“Always. I bear no grudges. We move on, to the next lesson and beyond, and each one will bring you closer to me.”
“You’re very confident of your success, sir.”
He lowered his hand and relaxed. “I am, aren’t I?” He grinned. “My confidence is not born out of arrogance, but optimism. I pray that I will be resilient and fair to you. That I will not waver, because if I do, I am not deserving of you. You have captured me, Matilda. It is you that has power over me. If you should run away, I shall fetch you back, but if at the end of the contract, you leave with my blessing, then who has the absolute power then? Not me.”
She rose and walked to the deep window casing where the thick castle walls narrowed into a slot. Most of the light in the room came from the tapers burning on a stand. He waited, keeping his distance.
“I will have to tell you about the priest.” Trust had been broken between her and that hypocrite; could she ever recover that confidence with another man? Perhaps being with Gervais was the only opportunity she had to find out. Then, at least, she had Geoffrey waiting in the wings if things went horribly wrong. Pray, she thought, that Geoffrey never found out how much she desired what Gervais was offering her.
“When we reach my home,” Gervais said. “You will tell me then.”
“And what if you are horrified by the truth?”
“That is unlikely,” he said firmly.
“I hope you’re right, because I’m putting great faith in your honour, sir. You might think the priest ruined me but going with you might leave me in a worse place.”
“Then attend the chapel tonight. Save yourself the anguish of humiliation and allow our union to be blessed and beholden by witnesses.”
Chapter Six
They rode through an avenue of trees, clipping the edge of a vast forest. Side by side with a canopy over their heads, she and her new lord paraded through the small towns and villages until the landscape changed into craggy outcrops and steep hills. High above, on one of those escarpments, was Baliol castle, its crenelated walls rising to the skies. Against the dusky clouds, the dark walls were foreboding, as if to warn Matilda not to approach. She slowed her horse and glanced at Gervais. He was smiling softly, pleased to be home and keen to be there; he kicked his horse forward.
Turning, he beckoned her to join him. “Come, its harsh walls are a legacy of another time; the chambers inside are comfortable and pleasantly furnished.”
She returned to his side and they continued, climbing the path that led to the outer walls and the gatehouse, the complex of defensive building constructed from granite and flint stone, dusted with burnt charcoal and carrying the scars of siege weapons.
“I rebuilt the curtain walls and parts of the barbican. The keep is intact and well-lit by windows,” he said proudly.
“How long has it been in your family?”
“It was never my family’s. The previous owners were traitors, and their lands were forfeited to the crown. I was gifted this land as a reward for services rendered to the king. I renamed it Baliol, altered the keep, and made it my chief home.”
The betrothal ceremony had demonstrated to her that Gervais was thoughtful enough to take her shaking hand and stroke it with his thumb. He had let it go by the altar, allowing her to sink onto her knees by his side, and together they had listened to the Latin liturgy of a blessing, intoned by an ancient priest with appalling hearing. It suited them all that the Father was unlikely to remember the reason why he had blessed a betrothal attended by so few people: her father, Sara, and Gervais’s squire, Lionel, a man with jagged scars and apparently no tongue. How convenient.
Gervais had helped her rise to her feet and kissed the back of her hand. If she had expected something more romantic, she’d been mistaken. He had disappeared into a side room with her father and signed a document; her signature had not been required. She was a chattel, bought and sold, it seemed, and now the property of Gervais for three months, and possibly longer. Possibly forever.
After a small meal to celebrate the union, she had begged her father to visit Geoffrey.
“No. He is sick. Leave the poor man alone. What good will it do for him to know that you are betrothed to another man,” her father had retorted.
The pleas had been met with a stern stare from Lord Barre, but some sympathy from Gervais. “He will heal. The omens are good; he’s young. I know that I have competition for your heart, my dear, but Geoffrey has a head start. He’s known you for some years, I believe?”
Since childhood, when they had played hide and seek in a maze of tall towers and deep cellars. He had cried when she hid in the darkest places, fearing to tread there. Why she remembered that now was oddly disconcerting. “We’ve only met a handful of times over that period.”
“Still. I wish to win you without distractions.”
The next day, with her luggage on a wagon, her maid moaning about the distance on horseback, they had left the earl’s magnificent fortress and begun their journey to the west, where the sea met the forests and cliffs.
The servants of Baliol castle swarmed and greeted the convoy, which included the men-at-arms who had escorted them through the countryside. They were all soldiers under Gervais’s command and now too old to be good on the battlefield; they were rehomed in the castle barracks, and from that base, they hunted down robbers and poachers, protecting the villagers from the lawless elements.
Gervais led her into the Great Hall of his keep. She gasped at the height of the roof, the oak beams and carvings. The armour hanging on the walls was decorated with banners. A display of power and wealth. What foreign wars had he fought to warrant such a great collection of weapons?
He followed her gaze. “I was captain of a company under the duke. He bestowed upon me many privileges and honours. We remain friends.”