A Year & a Day by Virginia Henley
“Of course.”
“I do not know who has asked for me. Perhaps one of your Welsh bowmen because I have healing powers, or perhaps your squire Taffy, who has confused me with an angel of mercy, or even Sir Giles because I took his pain away and he thinks to repay me. But whoever it is, my answer is no. I do not wish to be handfasted to any of them.” Jane took a deep breath to stop her knees from shaking. “My lord, you will not force me, will you?”
“Jane, your father has agreed to handfast you to me.”
Jane’s brows rose in disbelief. “You?”
She gazed up into his green eyes, then allowed her glance to slide over him from his mane of tawny hair, across his impossibly wide shoulders, to his powerfully muscled chest, down to his strong, long legs. Then her gaze traveled back up his body, rested for a full minute on his firm, unsmiling mouth, and came to rest on his lynx-green eyes.
Jane’s fingers closed over her touchstone. Had the goddess Brigantia deserted her? She was so shocked and stunned that suddenly all the pent-up fear she felt for this man began to surge up inside her. It rushed through her veins, pierced her heart, then flowed upward into her throat, making it impossible for her to breathe. Jane put a hand to her head as outrage overwhelmed her, dizzying her senses. The dominant figure of Lynx de Warenne blurred, then she swayed toward him as if her will had been snatched away by the invisible hand of Fate.
9
Lynx caught her as she swooned. He looked down at her, appalled, adding “delicate” to the list of Jane’s shortcomings. Then he looked more closely. There was something familiar about her face. He pulled off the linen head cloth and the bright color of her long hair identified her immediately. Splendor of God, it was the willful young woman who had given him nothing but trouble! But what the devil has she done to her breasts? he wondered, looking at her chest. Lynx ran his hands over her body and instead of soft flesh beneath her dress, he felt something stiff and unyielding. With consternation he guessed that she had bound her beautiful breasts in a deliberate attempt to disguise her lovely figure.
He reached inside the loose woolen dress to rid her of her tight binding. As he pulled the linen strips away, one luscious breast sprang from its confinement and Lynx could not resist cupping it in his palm and running his thumb across its tip until it peaked. Then his hand sought the other full breast, massaging it until its tip also peaked into a tiny jewel.
The moment Jane was able to breathe, she opened her eyes and stared at him in outrage. Lynx withdrew his hands from beneath the loose woolen dress, feeling a reluctance that surprised him.
“Why the devil did you try to disguise yourself?” he demanded.
“You have a terrible temper, my lord, which becomes aroused every time you see me. I covered my hair and bound myself hoping you would not recognize me.” Her breasts rose and fell with her apprehension.
His eyes lingered on them appreciatively; they were lush and lovely. “You will make yourself ill, doing such a stupid thing!”
“I am never ill, my lord,” Jane said proudly. Then she realized her mistake. If she had claimed delicate health, he would not want her.
“Why didn’t you tell me from the outset that you were my steward’s daughter? Why did you deliberately lie to me, telling me your name was Sironi?” He surprised himself by recalling her name.
“I didn’t lie, Lord de Warenne. Sironi is my Celtic name.”
He set his back to the fire and stared down at her. What the hell was he getting himself into? “It is my turn to speak plainly.” Lynx de Warenne’s deep voice cut into her thoughts. “I was married before, but the union produced no children. I have vast land holdings and will inherit an earldom. I need an heir; that is the reason I offer this handfasting. If you conceive, a marriage will take place immediately. If you do not conceive, the handfasting will be dissolved in a year and a day and your father will be paid compensation.”
Now anger began to mingle with her fear. “Why did you choose me, Lord de Warenne?” She brushed away the feeling that somehow their destinies were entwined.
“Your father has bred ten children, most of whom have proven prolific breeders themselves. The odds are in favor of your producing children.” He looked at her gravely. “What do you say, Jane? Will you try to give me a child?” He made it plain that this would be nothing more than a business arrangement.
Though her knees were trembling, she lifted her chin and dared to refuse him. “I am sorry, Lord de Warenne. Most women would consider your offer to be a great honor, but I am unlike other women. I do not wish to be handfasted or married. I have no desire to become a wife. I have been given the power of healing and want nothing more than to pursue that calling as the ancient Celtic priestesses did.”
Lynx was shocked that she was actually turning him down. She was a rustic commoner, how dare she? “Your father does not approve of this Celtic hocus-pocus.”
“That is because he has Norman blood. My grandmother, Megotta, has taught me the ancient rituals of the Celts and shown me the magic healing properties of herbs. She promised me I would not be handfasted.”
As he watched her, he realized this young female was the complete opposite of his highborn late wife, and yet there was something about her that attracted him. She challenged him, and Lynx de Warenne decided to take up that challenge! He went to the door and beckoned Thomas. “Fetch the old woman,” he directed.
When he returned he said, “I take it you dislike children.”
“What a dreadful thing to say—I love children. My brothers and sisters have dozens of wee ones and I love and adore all of them!”
He looked relieved, but he did not smile at her. In fact his face remained grave. When a knock came on the door he said, “Please excuse me, I’ll be back in a few moments.”
De Warenne was not so polite to the crone who stood glaring at his squire Thomas. “Jock Leslie has agreed to handfast his daughter to me, but you, madam, are an impediment.”
“My granddaughter is a Celt. I don’t want her mating with the enemy!” she said angrily.
His green eyes were glacial. “I am lord here, and I will be obeyed. If you object to this union I will send you back to the Highlands, where you will have no further contact with your family.”
Megotta’s anger flared at his ruthless male attitude and still she defied him. “I would rather go back to the Highlands than live under the heel of the English!”
His gaze flicked over her. If she was rash enough to pit her will against his, she would lose the battle. “And never see your granddaughter Jane again?” he inquired.
He saw the pain and the sadness in her eyes. Regretting the need to be harsh with this old woman, he quickly added, “On the other hand, if you convince Jane to accept this handfasting, I will not be ungenerous to you, or your family. I already have her father’s permission and I don’t need yours, but I would prefer it if you gave Jane your blessing.” He opened the chamber door and ushered her inside.
“Jane, your grandmother has something she wishes to say to you in private. I’ll wait outside.”
When the door closed, Jane cried, “Megotta, it is Lord de Warenne who wants to handfast me. I have refused him, but I know Father will be furious with me. Thank heaven you have come to support me.”
“Jane, I have changed my mind. I want you to get this Lynx de Warenne in your power. If you give him a child, he will make you a countess and you and the child will have greater wealth than you have ever imagined.”
Jane was distraught. “Has he threatened you?”
“No, no, child, but your father has already agreed to it and I have no authority over you, so you must take advantage of this opportunity that is being offered to you.”
Jane’s hope dissolved like snow in summer as the chamber door opened and de Warenne came back into the room. Jane felt as if a hand reached inside her breast and crushed her heart. One by one she gathered her feelings and emotions together, getting them under control, then tucking them away de
Lynx de Warenne felt a deep measure of satisfaction, but he was careful not to gloat over his victory. He bowed formally. “I’ll draw up the legal paper for us to sign. You might as well go and get your things.”
“Today?” she asked, shocked.
“Yes, today. I see no reason to wait until the morrow.”
Lynx prided himself on being a man who faced the unpleasantries of life and put them behind him immediately. But as he watched Jane Leslie depart, he realized bleakly that it would be a damned awkward bedding.
* * *
“Well?” Jane’s sisters demanded the moment she opened the door. “We’ve been waiting here ages!”
“I said yes.” Jane spoke as if she were in a trance.
“We know ye said yes, ye feckless creature,” Kate said impatiently. “What we want to know is who?”
“I am to be handfasted to Lord de Warenne.”
“Ha, and I’m to be crowned Queen of Scotland!” Kate cried.
“Ye are a little liar!” Mary accused.
Megotta came into the room. “She speaks the truth. Yer father has sold her to the powerful heir to the de Warenne earldom!”
Jane’s eyes flooded with tears and she ran to her own tiny chamber so they would not see her cry.
“What would he want with Jane?” Kate asked Megotta blankly.
“She’s a Celt and a virgin. Don’t ye see it is to humble us all? The English own us and will grind us beneath their heel, dragging our pride through the dirt. Jane has special powers and de Warenne wants to put his brand on her.”
“The rumors are true, she is a witch!” Mary concluded, totally ignoring Megotta’s words.
“She must have cast a spell on him. Why else would he take her to his bed?” Kate cried enviously.
Her sisters followed her to the tiny chamber where her pallet lay. As Jane lifted two woolen dresses and a cloak from their hooks on the wall and folded them neatly, Mary said, “Now? Ye’re moving into the castle? The handfasting is today?”
“Yes, I must hurry.”
Mary looked at Kate and without a word they departed and headed to the castle where the handfasting would take place.
As Jane added her stockings and aprons to the pile, a desperate idea came to her. She bundled up her things and sought out Megotta. “I’m going to run away!”
Her grandmother looked alarmed. “Where will ye go, child?”
Jane didn’t have a good answer. Anywhere seemed better than Dumfries Castle at the moment. “I’ll hide in Selkirk Forest. There are isolated parts that are said to be a refuge for people who have lost their homes through a dispute with an overlord.”
“Jane, you cannot run away. I would be blamed! De Warenne is a hard man. He would punish me severely.”
Jane decided to take her grandmother with her, then reluctantly she changed her mind. How could she ask the aging Megotta to give up her home to live in the wild? Just then a knock came on the door, and when Megotta opened it, Taffy loomed on the threshold. “I’ve come to get my lady’s baggage.”
“Ye’ll no’ set foot in my home!” Megotta cried, blocking the squire’s entrance.
Jane’s heart plummeted. It was too late for her to steal away now, and in any case she had nowhere to go. She knew she would have to obey her father’s wishes for the handfasting, but her resolve hardened. When the year and a day were up, she would be free to leave. She would not stay with de Warenne one moment longer. Jane went to the door, her cheeks rosy because of her grandmother’s rudeness. “I’ll bring you my medicinal box, Taffy. I can manage the rest.”
Jane gathered together her small pots of paint and brushes. She had no touchstones left. She would have to gather more from the seashore where there was an abundance of the smooth, curiously shaped stones. She returned to the door and handed Taffy the medicinal box, which he swung to his shoulder.
“I can carry more, my lady.”
Jane glanced down at the things in her arms. “There is no more.”
Taffy recalled the times he had staggered beneath Lady Alicia’s baggage and in the process lost a little more of his heart to Lady Jane.
Inside the castle, Taffy led the way to the Master Tower and climbed the stone steps to the first two rooms. “These are to be your rooms, Lady Jane; Lord de Warenne’s are up above.” He swung the wooden box from his shoulder. “I’ll be back shortly, my lady.”
As Jane stared about the chamber, its luxury intimidated her. Her feet felt rooted to the carpeted floor as her eyes looked their fill. She had been in the great hall many times and earlier today had spoken to the lord in the small room off the hall, but this was the first time she had ever been inside one of the castle’s towers where the private chambers were located.
Jane stared at the rich tapestries, the cushioned furnishings, the musical instruments, and the games table with its carved figures set out upon a board. Finally, it was the hearth with its dancing fire that drew her. She stepped close and felt comforted by the heat of the flames. The chamber was so spacious she would never get used to it. Her eyes lifted to the archway with dismay as she realized there was yet another chamber beyond. Jane gathered her courage and went through the arch.
The bed stopped her in her tracks. She had never seen anything like it before. Her own bed had always been a small pallet close to the floor. The bed her brother Ben and Judith slept in was wide enough for two people, but it rested on a wooden frame close to the floor. This bed was vast; and so high off the floor there were wooden steps beside it. Velvet curtains hung from high corner posts and the luxurious material had rings attached so that the curtains could be drawn about the bed to keep out the drafts and envelop those inside in privacy. A forbidden image of herself and Lord de Warenne enclosed inside the intimacy of the bed-curtains made Jane’s knees turn to water.
She banished the wicked picture immediately and opened the massive wardrobe. Now she understood why there were no hooks on the wall for clothes; the hooks were inside the wardrobe. Jane hung up her cloak and her two woolen dresses, one black and one gray. She placed her shifts and stockings in a wardrobe drawer and set her painting supplies in another. She turned from the wardrobe and caught her image in a mirror.
She jumped back in alarm, thinking someone was in the room with her. When she realized there was no one there, that it was simply an oval of highly polished silver set in a wooden frame, she stepped closer to examine it. She stared at the female reflected before her and knew she was looking at herself. Jane had never before looked into a mirror, and she found it an unsettling experience. She had seen herself in the forest pool, but that had only shown her a blurred image of herself. The mirror showed her clearly and precisely what she looked like.
Jane caught her breath and touched her fingertips to the polished surface, tracing her brows and her slanting cheekbones. She saw with chagrin that her eyes were almond-shaped and deep brown, exactly like a doe she had seen with her fawn. Her lips were too full, her hair too bright! Why did her hair have to be red; why couldn’t she have raven tresses like her sisters? Jane turned from the mirror with a sinking heart.
She heard a knock on the outer door and ran through the arch to open it. Taffy directed a bevy of castle servants. One brought soap and towels, another carried fresh white linen sheets, a young boy carried in a scuttle of coal for the fire, and two men servants carried in a ladies’ slipper-shaped bathing tub. Still another servant brought a matching basin and jug, filled with water, and Taffy himself brought her a tray holding watered wine, goblets, and sweetmeats. She watched as fresh torches were placed in the wall brackets, ready for lighting, and a huge square candle in its own brass stand was carried in.
When the servants withdrew, Taffy said, “If there is anything you desire, lady, please tell me. It is my responsibility to plenish your chamber.”<
Before she could thank him, another knock came at the door. Taffy opened it to find Thomas. “Lord de Warenne has the papers ready—” He stopped in mid-sentence. “She cannot go down looking like that,” he said in a low voice.
Taffy bent toward him and murmured, “She has no gowns, no jewels—nothing pretty at all.”
Thomas’s eyes swept over Jane from head to foot. “Wait here,” he ordered Taffy.
Thomas sought Lord de Warenne in the small room off the great hall. Jock Leslie and his eldest son, Andrew, Dumfries’ steward-in-training, were already present as Jane’s witnesses to the legal handfasting.
When Lynx looked up from the papers on the table, Thomas said, “The lady has no decent clothes, my lord.”
Jock Leslie looked offended. “Until now she has led a simple life.”
Lynx bade his squire, “Fetch the lady as she is. Her clothes matter not; her signature is all that counts.”
Jane entered the small chamber wearing her brown woolen dress and sturdy leather shoes. She was flanked by the lord’s squires, who would act as his witnesses.
Lynx had one moment of misgiving. Thomas was right, she looked exactly like a peasant girl. He executed a formal bow to her. “You have not changed your mind?”
Her lashes flew to her cheeks, trying to mask the fear and outrage she felt. How could she change her mind when he had threatened her grandmother? How could she refuse the handfasting with her father’s stern eyes upon her? Being in a small room with five men who would hear her give her pledge was most intimidating. She shot de Warenne a look of pure hatred and shook her head.
Her father gave her the words. They were simple enough. Lynx de Warenne came to her side, took her hand in his, and waited for her pledge.
“I, Jane Leslie, pledge thee my troth in handfast for a year and a day.” Her words were clear, without hesitation, surprising even herself, but silently she added: And not one moment longer!
“I, Lynx de Warenne, pledge thee my troth in handfast for a year and a day.” His deep solemn voice rolled over her, filling the room, dominating the very air they breathed.