Defiant Surrender (3 page)

Not today.

Her mud-soaked slippers scraped against the wooden floor as her captor thumped down the exposed wood, her weight no impediment to him. The nauseating smell of burnt incense instead of the nice vanilla candles she was used to back home made her queasy stomach roll.

Maddie took a deep breath, refusing to panic. Not yet, at least. But the continued lack of tenderness in her supposed groom’s hard-featured face didn’t sit easy in her mind. If this were her imagination, surely her dreamed up fiancé would gaze down the aisle, filled with pride, love and if she was really lucky, perhaps a hint of lust.

She craned another look over her shoulder, seeking out someone who might help. She whimpered when the grip on her arm tightened, hauling her more roughly forward.

As they approached the Baron of Kingston, her captor shoved her and she fell, her hands stinging when they hit the rough wooden boards. The baron wore weird leather shoes and a hose that seemed to be held up with ribbon crisscrossing up his legs. Lying at his feet, the man seemed powerful and very, very tall. Annoyance jabbed at her conscience at her fiancé’s ability to refuse to acknowledge her. Or help her to get up.

Nerves soon replaced her annoyance. This all seemed so real and lifelike. Doubt that it was all a dream started to form and take hold. Maddie stood and squared her shoulders, refusing to cower before this man, a dreamed up figment of her imagination. He couldn’t hurt her. Only her mind could, if she let it.

“I’m not going to marry you.” A blade appeared in his large hand, his fingers idly twisting the knife. Sunlight filtering through the church window flickered off the weapon. Maddie swallowed and stilled. Her eyes focused on the silent threat. Jaw clamped, she waited, trying to ignore her maid’s echoing whimpers, which did nothing to quieten the fear clawing her stomach.

“You will, my lady, as it pleases our sovereign you do so. So, unless you wish to end up dead, say your vows and let us be done with it.”

Maddie bit back what she thought he and his sovereign could do with the decree and turned beseechingly toward the watching priest. The elderly man wiped sweat from his brow and started the ceremony.

Maddie’s eyes widened at the priest’s lack of help. Surely a man of the cloth would aid a defenceless woman. With no help from the Almighty’s servant, she turned on her heel and walked away. Not two steps down the aisle and her arm was wrenched behind her back. Fear unlike any she had ever known denied air into her lungs when cold, whispering words sounded beside her ear. “’Twould be wise you turn about, my lady, and marry me. Unless the prick of my blade is what you wish to feel.”

Her gaze flicked to her whimpering maid and the fight to argue left her. She had no desire to die. And if this did turn out to be a dream, come tomorrow morning a good strong coffee would set any residual nerves to rest over the nightmare.

“M’lady, do as he says. I beg you.”

At the elderly woman’s plea, Maddie nodded. “Release me, you medieval oaf, and I’ll marry you. But if you stick that bloody knife anywhere near me again, I’ll stick you with mine.” Not that she had one, but he didn’t need to know that.

“So we have an agreement, Lady Madeline?”

She glared. “Yes.” For the moment.

Maddie studied her groom as much as possible without being obvious. Senses she hadn’t experienced for an age ran along her skin and came alive. He had sinfully long eyelashes that shielded eyes the color of chocolate. Light-brown locks sat loose on well-proportioned shoulders. Maddie looked down to the wooden floor, not at all happy with her turn of mind. The last person she would consider attractive was the ogre beside her.

And yet she couldn’t deny his envelope of flesh was appealing.

Unable to stop herself, she peeked up at him again. Heat washed across her cheeks when his cold stare met hers. Instinctively she knew she was in trouble. His eyes narrowed, distaste and annoyance crossed his features, before he blinked and was once again looking at the priest, all emotion now wiped from his face.

She had to get away, and if sensing her imminent bolt, a large, warm hand clasped strong around her wrist. He squeezed, hurting her, silently communicating for her to keep quiet, before placing both their hands onto the Bible. Maddie looked up at the priest in disbelief, shocked and fearing for her future, however long it was to be with this man. What was his problem? And what was hers? How could she dream up fiancés who hated her?

The service ended as quickly as it began. Within minutes, she found herself escorted, or perhaps a better word was dragged, outside toward her carriage. His hand around her arm held firm, his fingers a mere squeeze away from painful. Maddie yanked free from his gasp, absently rubbing bruised flesh as she scanned her surroundings. She stopped as the sight of endless fields, free from housing or motorways met her view. She inwardly smiled, unaware she had it in her to imagine such picturesque countryside.

“You will travel back to my holdings immediately, my lady, within your own carriage. I will join you there at my convenience.”

Maddie turned her attention back to her husband. His deep, commanding voice sent tingles to dance over her skin and she didn’t dare argue with him. Even the way he looked at her wasn’t pleasant. And if she wasn’t mistaken, the situation he now found himself in was not to his liking. Well, at least they agreed on that score.

Lost in her musings, she watched him move to open the carriage door. In the afternoon light, away from the dimness of the church, he seemed larger than she first thought. Tight, fitted hose outlined the strong, lean-muscled legs. A blue tunic covered his broad chest; a mantle tied by a cord held the outer garment to his body. He towered over her, strong, domineering, not to mention very good-looking. And, perhaps worst of all, he was now her husband. By the laws of this time, he had control over her. Absolutely.

She swallowed, a peculiar nervous feeling settling in her stomach. It would all be okay. By tomorrow she’d wake and all this would be a dream. Better to play along with his orders than make trouble she didn’t want to face.

“Is there a reason your vehicle can’t also carry your new bride, my lord?” Maddie stepped back and into her maid when his cold look answered her question. This was her dream. Her dream, in which men were supposed to do what she decided, not think for themselves. Why was he staring at her?
She raised her brows, not knowing where to look, uncomfortable under his harsh, penetrating inspection.

“I do not choose to spend time with you, Lady Madeline. Sharing a carriage with you is beyond my tolerance. ’Tis necessary to be clear. As a man of honesty, I must disoblige you of any notion this will be a marriage of the truest kind. Not only will we not share the marriage bed very often, we will live in separate quarters. Our marriage might strengthen this area of the kingdom, enabling us to be powerful allies against attacks from the north or the coast, but that is where our common bond ends.”

Maddie beat down the urge to argue. Caution warned her that this man would not take kindly to a twenty-first century set down. Jaw clenched, she stepped up into her carriage, refusing the hand he offered.

How dare he try to be civil after what he just said? She flicked a glance to her maid, whose eyes were as round as saucers, having heard every word. Oddly embarrassed by his treatment, Maddie looked away. She hadn’t done anything wrong after all, other than dream him up. What was his problem?

The carriage lurched forward, and he thankfully disappeared from view. She didn’t need to look to know his face still held the same scowl of a minute before.

Bastard!

“The Baron of Kingston lives in a castle!” Maddie shut her mouth with a snap. “Who are you people?”

Her maid looked up from her needlework and frowned. “Where else should the baron live, m’lady? Of course, Aimecourt is much grander than the half-completed Kingston Castle, but ’tis here we will be for a time. You will grow accustomed to your new role as his wife.”

Set on a small rise, the castle was surrounded by a moat, the waters calm and slow-flowing. Wood and stone made up the outer defensive walls. People, or serfs, Maddie supposed, were working to remove what must be the original wooden fort, replacing it with stone.

The inner defensive structure was already complete. It stood high and dominant behind this new partition, giving the castle a strong defensive position against attack. They entered through a gatehouse, the horses’ steps hollow as they trotted over the wooden drawbridge. Soldiers with hard, non-welcoming faces stood watching the cavalcade of horses and carts pull up within the inner bailey.

Maddie took in what was to be her home with a mixture of fear and excitement. Had she somehow cheated time and landed in 1102? The thought of seeing a working medieval community was at least one positive. With a little difficulty she opened the carriage door and stepped down. People bustled about, carrying out their chores within the small village. Children’s laughter rang out as they splashed each other from the communal well. The smell of baking bread had her stomach grumbling. She turned and looked at the keep. Rectangular in shape, several stories high, and with square towers on each corner, it looked cold and foreboding. Suited the baron’s temperament perfectly.

Her maid bustled around, giving orders about their belongings.

Maddie wondered what these people would think of their baron’s new wife. Her husband had all but shouted his lack of esteem for the Lady Madeline. Would they follow his lead? Surprisingly most didn’t even bother to look at her or acknowledge the new visitors within their home. A shiver of unease rippled through her and Maddie wondered what sort of man she’d married. What sort of life were she about to begin—if all this was in fact true and not a dream.

“M’lady, this way.”

Maddie took a step and tripped on her gown. With an oath, she clasped the bulky material and walked toward her maid.

“Mistress Rhode, the baron is a tyrant isn’t he?”

“Shush, m’lady. You should not say such things?”

“Well, he pulled a knife on me when I refused to marry him. And no one here seems overly friendly, beside the children that run free.” Maddie paused at the doorway of the keep, then entered. The dark grey stone enclosed her. Cold moisture seemed to seep from the walls, chilling her already freezing skin. “By the way, do any of those children own shoes?”

“I do not know, m’lady. Do you wish me to find out?”

Maddie nodded.

“This way to the Great Hall, m’lady. Tomorrow I will show you around your new home. ’Tis growing too late to do so today, and you will need your rest.”

A crunch underfoot had Maddie looking down only to gaze in amazement at the neatly laid rushes beneath her slippers. The scents of lavender and rosemary floated up with every step and then they entered the hall.

Armor
lined the walls of the massive room, and hanging tapestries imbued the room with a sense of warmth. Trestle tables clean and bare, sat before a dais that ran the length of the far wall, with a large well-stoked fire behind it.

However, it was the white flag hanging above the hearth that caught her eye. Maddie clasped a table for support on seeing the design sewn upon it: an emerald dragon sitting atop a green hill, a flower that resembled the yarrow, held beneath its paw.

“Mistress Rhode, what is that?” Maddie asked, gesturing toward the flag.

Mistress Rhode looked up to where Maddie pointed. “That, m’lady, is the Kingston coat of arms.”

Maddie clasped her finger, feeling for a ring that was no longer there. Was it possible the ring belonged to her new husband? His name was William and the coat of arms matched the one on the ring case. She shook her head. Not possible. Whoever owned the ring had loved his wife. And this William did not love this Madeline, which was well and truly proven by his treatment of her. Had the ring somehow thrown her into another’s life?

Which left her wondering what she looked like. Her hands lifted to her face. Familiar lines, eyebrows and nose met her fingers and she relaxed a little.

“Are you pained, m’lady? You look troubled. Is there aught I can do for you?”

Maddie looked over to Mistress Rhode and smiled. “I would like a mirror please.”

“Mirror?” her maid asked, looking at her as if she’d sprouted two heads.

What did they call them in this time? “A looking glass perhaps, all I want to do is look at myself somehow,” she answered.

“Follow me, m’lady. I’m sure your room has all you ask for.” Mistress Rhode clucked her tongue, Maddie assumed, at her strange behavior.

But unless her room held a magic porthole that could take her home, wake her up somehow miraculously removed from this time, it seemed unlikely.

They followed a Kingston maid, and Maddie proceeded up a steep spiralling staircase, running her hand along the wall to help keep her balance. Two floors passed by as they climbed higher into the keep, before the maid veered onto a landing of clean stone flooring bare of rushes.

Through narrow glassless windows, the last of the day’s rays knifed into the corridor, and torches, already alight, burned in the poorly ventilated space. Maddie blinked several times as the smoke started to sting. The local maid curtsied and gestured to a bedchamber. Thanking the girl, Maddie watched in amazement when she scuttled off as if the devil himself was after her.

Maddie stepped into her room that was rectangular, large and oddly welcoming. A mammoth bed made from chunky dark wood sat against a wall opposite the fire. The air was surprisingly warm, despite lack of carpets or central heating. She looked around searching for any modern convenience. Surely, in a dream one would think to include a flushing toilet and running hot water. She ran a finger over an earthenware jug and bowl—apparently not. She sighed as she looked out a glassless window over the land that stretched beyond, looking awfully barren of roads or farm houses.

Dusk was upon them and she welcomed the night. Surely upon waking tomorrow all of this would be a bad memory. It had to be, she mentally screamed. Nothing else was an option, period!

“M’lady, all looks in order here. I shall return with your supper. It has been a long day. With some rest, I’m sure you will be put to rights.”

Maddie turned to her maid. “Thank you, Mistress Rhode, for all your help. I’m sorry to have been such a nuisance today.”

The woman frowned, “I do not…”

Maddie waved her away. “Don’t worry about it, Mistress Rhode. I’m sure a meal and sleep will fix me up as good as new, just as you said.”

“Well, then, m’lady, I shall return anon.”

“Oh, by the way, where is the mirror?”

Her maid turned, and gestured toward a corner, “On the trunk, m’lady.”

Maddie walked over to the large wooden chest and stared at a bowl of water. “There’s no mirror here.”

Her maid suppressed a chuckle. “It’s a special water bowl, m’lady. If you look into it you will see your reflection.”

“I have to look into water to see myself?”

“Yes, m’lady.”

As if doing such a thing was normal and commonplace, Maddie looked down at the bowl as her maid shut the door behind her.

This was ridiculous! But there was her face, plain as day—and it was her face, just as it had looked in her own time.

*

Maddie settled down for the night after a surprisingly tasty meal of beef stew and vegetables, accompanied by cheese and bread. If she ignored the vile tasting wine she could not possibly finish, dinner was nice. Lying on her bed, she watched the tapestry sway from the draught the window allowed in. Her cheek lay upon the soft woolen underlay, and she absently rubbed her face against it as she listened to the noises coming from the great hall below. The sound carried up the outer wall as clear as day.

Rowdy masculine laughter and feminine giggles met her ears. The sounds of shifting furniture and then goodwill banter followed, as music from the baron’s minstrels began.

However, as the noise increased she couldn’t help wondering what they were doing down there. Having a party? A wedding reception without the bride? Maddie rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling and counted the boards along the roof. Did they never sleep, these people? And by God, could the women sound any needier or more annoying? Moreover, was her husband sampling those ridiculous females, whose voices grated on her nerves?

A female laugh and the muffled chuckle of a man caught her attention, as they stepped past her door and Maddie sat up.
Who were they? She clutched the sheet high against her chest and listened. No one had introduced her to anyone when she arrived. In fact, her absent husband hadn’t even thought to have her introduced to the servants. Weren’t husbands of this era supposed to do that, so the wife could start to carry out their duties? Mistress Rhode never mentioned any sisters of the baron, or brothers, for that matter, who may be married and housing a wife in this castle. So who was it out there?

The feminine laugh came again followed by a deep throaty voice one Maddie intuitively knew. She didn’t stop to think before the decision to find out for sure overtook common sense. Anger coursed through her. How dare William sound so…so…? She didn’t know what. But whatever it was, it was definitely the opposite of what he felt when around his wife.

Maddie pushed the blankets away and sprang from the bed, sucking in a breath when her bare feet met the cold stone floor. She crept to the door and inched it open to peek out into the corridor. Her eyes widened as she watched the Baron of Kingston, aka her husband, hold a blonde goddess up against the wall, his hands somewhere under her dress.

The woman moaned then ripped open her gown, exposing breast and stomach to her husband’s heated gaze. Maddie’s face burned in mortification. Holy shit, what type of man had she married? Only four hours wed and he was already cheating on her? A record, even for her.

Maddie silently shut the door and crossed back to her bed, shaking her head in wonder and a little disappointment. She obviously had one warped mind to dream up this type of situation for herself. Hopefully in the morning, she would wake up, cozy under her goose-down quilt and on her Sealy mattress.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” she yelled, when the feminine throaty moan from the hall increased. “Get a room for God’s sake.” Maddie sighed in thanks as a door shut further down the hall, taking the horrendous sound with it. Rolling over she willed herself to fall asleep, out of this nightmare and away from him. Please, God, she prayed, before I’m tempted to kick him in the balls, like I did the last bastard who cheated on me.

*

Upon awakening, one thing became clear. She was still in the twelfth century. Maddie absently stroked the fur blankets keeping her warm, before throwing them off in disgust. How was it possible that she hadn’t woken up, back at home, above her little shop and busy street? Her heart jumped into her throat when a knock sounded on her door, only to relax when Mistress Rhode entered with steaming water.

“Ah, m’lady, you are awake. Naught was amiss through the night I trust?”

“No,” she sighed, the sound a gloomy
whine; such dejection tended to happen, especially when one’s heart was set on awakening in the twenty-first century, not the twelfth.

“Are you well, m’lady?”

Maddie smiled at her maid’s genuine concern. “What nationality are you, Mistress Rhode?” she asked jumping out of bed.

“Naught would please me more to answer your query, m’lady. Nationality you say. Pray explain what such a word means.”

Maddie washed her hands in the warm scented water and not able to find a hairbrush, started to comb her hair with her hand. “Race, population, people that sort of thing. My family, for instance, are French. But what is yours?”

“I am of Welsh blood, m’lady.”

“Are there any wise women among your people, Mistress Rhode, any healers?” Maddie’s hands tightened around the linen square she was clasping and hoped for good news.

“Yes, m’lady, my mother in fact. But we do not call her such names as ‘wise woman,’ lest it be misconstrued. She is but a common healer.”

Maddie walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. What she’d been hoping for was to find someone who could help her get home; who may have some idea how all this happened. Wise women tended to be cluey with that sort of thing, magic, curses, spells—time travel. She shuddered.

“Lady Madeline, you still seem ailed. If there is aught I can do to ease your distress, you have only to ask.”

Maddie looked over to her worried maid, and thought it better, for now, not to reveal more facts of her true life. A life a long way away from here. Instead, she turned her mind to finding out about the mystery woman who had graced the halls last night.

“Does the baron have a mistress under this roof?” The blood drained from her maid’s face before it bloomed red enough to rival a darkest ruby. Maddie clamped her mouth shut, and waited for a reply.