to a tree as Hassan examined the wound, applying salves that had been made by skilled men of Arabia. A fierce fight had ensued during their escape from the house, during which Stefan had received a wound to his side, which pained him far more than the scratch to his thigh inflicted by Sir Hugh.
‘You will do for a few hours,’ Hassan said as he bound him tightly, ‘but the wound should be tended by a physician.’
‘I would trust none in this country; the physicians here are ignorant and hidebound by conventions,’ Stefan muttered, gritting his teeth against the pain. ‘We must go home to France, Hassan. I cannot fight in this condition. We need more men and we must be careful. The law here protects Cowper. I want him to pay for his crimes, but I have to find a way to prove his guilt. I must have incontrovertible proof and I must find someone who stands high in the King’s favour to present it—or at least to help me gain a hearing at court.’
‘Aye, but first we must make our way to the coast and find a ship,’ Hassan said. ‘You will rest better at home in Normandy. Once you are healed, we can find a way to take revenge for what has been done here.’
‘I want justice for my father’s shade,’ Stefan said. ‘Otherwise his face will haunt my dreams. Sir Hugh is dead, and I believe it was he who murdered my brother, but it is Cowper that has my father’s lands.’ His eyes were as cold as the North Sea. ‘I swear by all I hold dear that he shall pay with his life one day…’
Anne heard her father’s voice as she paused outside his chambers. She knew that Harry was with him and they had been talking for a long time. Lord Melford would be delighted with the news that his son had decided to marry, but would he be as pleased with the revelation that the bride was French?
Anne knocked at the door and was invited to enter. Her father looked at her as she did so, his brows lifting. ‘Your mother has sent you to fetch us to table, I dare say?’
‘Yes, Father. Mother says that supper is ready, and she wants to talk to Harry.’
‘In other words, I have kept you too long to myself, Hal,’ his father told him with a smile. ‘We must not keep Lady Melford waiting another second. She will want to hear all you can tell her about the lovely lady you intend to ask to wed you.’
Anne realised that her father was happy with the marriage. He did not mind that the lady Claire St Orleans was French, and that pleased Anne, for she would not have wished her brother to be disappointed.
Lord Melford’s eyes came to rest on his daughter. ‘As for you, miss, your brother has made a request of me that I am minded to grant, but we must ask your mother first. She may not agree that you should go with Harry to fetch the lady Claire home to us.’
‘Go with Harry?’ Anne’s pulses leaped with excitement as she looked at her brother. ‘Do you mean it? May I truly come to France with you?’
‘Father has given his permission if Mother agrees,’ Harry told her and grinned. ‘I thought it might be a good thing if Claire met someone from my family, someone who thinks well of me and will reassure her that I am to be trusted. Otherwise she might refuse me.’
‘Oh, Harry, thank you,’ Anne cried, her excitement bubbling over. ‘I should like that so very much.’
‘Well, we must ask your mother first,’ Lord Melford said, but with an indulgent look. ‘Had circumstances not interfered, you would have been taken to court at least once before this, Anne. It may do you good to see something of the world outside this house and our village. We have excellent neighbours, but few young men of your age. It is possible that you may meet someone in Harry’s company. On your return from France, you will go with him to London, and make your long-delayed appearance there. Lady Melford and I will come up to join you. We shall all return here for the wedding.’
Anne’s smile lit up her eyes. It was all she had longed for—an adventure that would take her somewhere far away from her home. To visit London had once been the extent of her dreams, but France conjured such pictures in her mind, though she had little to go on except for stories that Harry sometimes told her about the French court. He was one of King Henry’s trusted courtiers and had visited several countries in his Majesty’s service. She knew that he spoke both French and Spanish fluently, so perhaps it was not surprising that his choice had fallen on a French lady.
‘It is so good of you to take me, Harry,’ she told him excitedly. ‘You are the very best of brothers!’
‘I hope you will tell Claire that,’ Harry said. ‘I have gifts for both you and Mother in my saddlebags. It is as well that the fair is coming tomorrow, for you will need a new gown before we leave, Anne.’
‘When are we to leave?’ Anne asked.
‘In three days,’ her brother replied. ‘I have a month before I need to return to court. I know that Henry has further work for me soon, but he has granted me leave to visit my home and to fetch my bride home…if she will have me. I shall need to spend time at Claire’s home, and if we marry I shall wish some time alone with her before I return to my duties, so the sooner we start our journey, the better.’
‘How could she refuse you?’ Anne asked. She was surprised and thrilled that her brother wanted her to accompany him. ‘When I tell her how kind and generous you are, she will be happy to wed you.’
It was as they returned home from the fair that afternoon that the news came to Melford of a terrible murder in Shrewsbury.
‘Lady Madeline Forester and her uncle, Sir Hugh Grantham, were brutally slain,’ Lord Melford told his family when they gathered that evening. ‘Sir Hugh’s men tried to stop the murderers escaping and they wounded one, but unfortunately the rogues escaped.’
‘That is awful,’ Melissa said, her eyes dark with shock as she looked at her husband. ‘When did this terrible thing happen?’
‘It must be two days gone,’ Rob replied.
‘And do they know the names of these evil men?’
‘The messenger did not say. Apparently one was dark-skinned, perhaps a Saracen, from the east certainly, and the other might have been Spanish or French. He did not look English, I am told, but that might mean anything.’
‘I did not care for Sir Hugh,’ Melissa, said frowning slightly. ‘But the lady Madeline was pleasant enough, though I have met her but once. Her elder sister died tragically by her own hand some years ago I believe. There was some story of her having been with child.’
‘She was to be betrothed to Gervase de Montfort,’ Rob said. ‘Few knew of the arrangement, for I believe it was not spoken of—and he was murdered. Some say by his own brother, though I have always wondered if there was some mystery there. However, Stefan de Montfort left England and the scandal was hushed up. He would be Lord de Montfort since his father’s death, of course, though there is nothing left of the estate. Lord Cowper purchased it when the old man lost his fortune.’
‘That is a sad story, Father,’ Anne said and shivered. ‘And now the lady Madeleine has been murdered and her uncle with her…who could do such a terrible thing?’
‘It may have been robbers,’ Rob replied. ‘I do not know of anyone living locally that answers the description of the men involved. Perhaps they were just passing through. I doubt that it would have been local men.’
Anne remembered the two strangers she had seen on the day of Harry’s
