know that I love you, Elaine? You know that I would not leave you if there were another way?’
‘Yes, I know.’ Elaine had smiled up into his grey eyes. He was so handsome with his proud noble features, his mouth soft and seductive, his brows fine and dark. Hair the colour of ebony had fallen across his brow and she’d reached up to brush it away. ‘Please promise to come back safely, Zander. I do not care if you bring riches. When I am eighteen my mother’s dower lands become mine. They are all we need to live in peace and happiness together.’
Zander had reached for her, pulling her close to him. His mouth was sweet on hers as he kissed her lingeringly and with such tenderness that it brought tears to her eyes.
‘Know that I shall never love another woman, Elaine. If I do not return for you, it will be because I lie dead in the Holy Land.’
‘No! You must not die, for I could not bear it. Must you go? I wish you would not. Seek honours at court and in time my father will relent.’
‘I must take the Cross and follow the king. Richard seeks to convert the heathen or drive them from God’s Holy City. Only when Jerusalem is ours may we consider our duty done. And then I shall avenge my father…’
‘Supposing you never manage to capture Jerusalem?’
‘If I feel the cause hopeless I shall return—but we are right. God is with us and we must prevail for we undertake His work.’
‘But you leave me behind and break my heart? How can you talk of love and hurt me so?’
Elaine felt the tears on her cheeks. Zander had kissed her deeply with such tenderness that she had not doubted his love. His cause was just and she could not in all conscience have prevented him from leaving.
She dashed her tears away. Her memories were precious and she treasured them. Zander had gone because he believed the king’s cause just and because it was the only way he could earn honours and return a rich knight. All her entreaties had not deterred him and so she’d watched him ride away. The years had been long since then and she had grieved for the love that might have been. While her father lived she had waited patiently, but now her soul cried out to the man she loved.
‘Where are you, Zander?’ she whispered as she followed a few steps behind her serving woman to the courtyard, where the burly groom waited. ‘Please return to me. I beg you, do not desert me.’
Raising her head, Elaine forced a smile to her lips as she passed through the courtyard. No one must realise that she was close to tears. Only a weak woman cried. Elaine was strong. She had won a promise from her uncle and she had more than two months of freedom before she must think about becoming the Earl of Newark’s bride.
‘When do we attack the castle?’ Stronmar looked at his lord, the Earl of Newark, as he walked into the hall where the scene was one of preparation for war. ‘All is ready, you have only to give the word, my lord.’
‘Howarth is a fool,’ the earl growled. ‘He told me that his niece would be mine at Christ’s Mass if I waited in patience, but a man should not be ruled by a woman’s whims. He should force her to obey him. There is no reason to wait.’
‘You do not need to wait. Howarth neglects to send out patrols and believes the rumours of a band of marauding bandits on his land are merely that. He has no idea that we have been the ones attacking travellers and burning the isolated cottages. We leave none to tell the tale.’
‘You have done well,’ the earl said and smiled thinly. ‘Had the lady agreed to the marriage I might have spared her uncle, but I shall not be thwarted. I want her and her lands—but she is Howarth’s heir. When her uncle dies she will be twice the heiress she is now, for besides the castle he has other manors in the north.’
Stronmar grinned, revealing a row of rotten teeth. He was an unfortunate-looking man, his features heavy and ugly, the stench of his breath worse than a latrine. His one redeeming feature was his loyalty to the earl and he would die for the lord who had rescued him when as a young lad he had lain close to starvation after his parents had both died from a terrible fever. The harvests had rotted in the fields that year, for a pestilence had killed most of the villagers. He, too, would have died had the lord not ordered him taken up and carried to his castle, where Stronmar had grown strong and tall as the years passed.
‘The lady will be yours, my lord. Give the word and we shall ride for the castle this very day. The fools will not suspect an attack and we may take them with scarcely a fight.’
‘Then we ride at once,’ the earl said. ‘I see no reason to wait when I may have the lady now. Once I have bedded her she will beg me to marry her. A woman must be shown who is the master or a man is nothing in his own home.’
‘The Lady Elaine is too proud for her own good.’
The earl nodded, his thick lips curving in a sneer. ‘Pride such as hers must be curbed, and methinks I shall find it amusing to teach the wench a lesson she will not forget. Besides, I need an heir, for my wives gave me only daughters.’
‘We have gathered herbs and berries enough,’ Elaine said. Their baskets were filled and the day was drawing to its close. Enjoying the unseasonably warm sunshine and the freedom of being away from the castle, they had strayed a long way from her home in search of berries, herbs and nuts to fill the deep panniers that Bertrand had attached to the pack horse. He was riding his own stout horse while the ladies had ridden Elaine’s palfrey. ‘I think we should go home now.’
‘Yes, my lady.’ Marion smiled at her. ‘Your uncle may grow worried and send out men to search for you if we do not return before nightfall.’
‘I would not have him think we had run away.’ Elaine thanked the groom as he put first her, and then her lady, up on the palfrey. Marion rode pillion behind her, as was the custom for a serving woman, though for some of the day she’d ridden with Bertrand so that the palfrey should not tire of carrying them both.
The little party turned in the direction that would lead them home. They had laughed, talked and danced in the clearing as they gathered their rich harvest and now they were tired, ready for the food and drink that awaited them at the castle. Marion had brought some bread, cheese and a flagon of ale, which they’d shared, as well as feasting on the ripe blackberries that grew in abundance in the woods. Yet even so their thoughts had turned to the supper that would await them and Bertrand apologised for his rumbling stomach.
‘Do not apologise,’ Elaine said and laughed. ‘I think we shall all eat well this night, for there is roasting pig as well as pigeon and capon.’
Her mouth watered at the thought and she realised that she, too, was hungry. It was at that moment that she caught the smell of burning and her nose wrinkled at the stench.
‘Someone has set a fire,’ she said, ‘but I think…’
The words died unspoken, for as they crested the rise they saw the pall of dark smoke hanging over the castle and smelled the awful stench.
‘There has been a fire,’ Marion cried. ‘The keep stands, but the smoke is thick. What can have happened?’
‘The castle has been attacked,’ Bertrand said and brought his horse and the pack pony to a standstill. ‘We must go no further, my lady. You should take shelter over there
