The Traitor's Daughter (11 page)

“No,” said Hugh, “it was a reasonable question to ask.
It seems that the men in my family have difficulty getting children on their
wives. Geoffrey, my older brother, also failed in that respect.”

“And that is why you are now the heir.”

“Yes. I had no wish for lands or property. I did not
want the responsibility or the greed that seems to go with it. Geoffrey was
married for ten years before his death and in all that time he did not manage
to get his wife with child even once. It is little wonder that in a much
shorter time I also failed to produce an heir.”

Alais decided not to continue her questioning on what
was obviously a painful subject. She vowed to herself to ask no further
questions until she arrived at Liss and then she would have the rest of her
life to find out about her husband’s family. She yawned and Hugh laughed. “I
did not think you slept much last night, my lady.”

“I slept well enough,” she responded, “but more would
have been better.”

“You can sleep now, if you wish. I will make sure you do
not fall.”

The invitation was all that Alais needed. She let her
head fall back against Hugh’s chest. She felt his arm tighten around her waist.
She felt wonderfully warm and comfortable. Seduced by the motion of the horse
and the warmth of the body behind her, she fell asleep.

She dozed on and off through the afternoon. Sometimes
she awoke to silence, at other times the men were chatting inconsequentially.
Once Hugh was singing a song of heroic deeds. He apologised for waking her, but
she begged him to continue. He was a surprisingly good singer and when he had
finished, Edmund sang an English song that was so old she could barely
recognise the words. When it was over there was a silence and she realised it
was her turn. She was no singer; she preferred to tell a story or to read to
entertain, but she knew a song about Tristan and Isolda that suited her voice
and she was still singing when they came in sight of the inn.

It had grown colder throughout the day and Hugh did not
have the heart to leave Alais in their unheated room at the inn while he and
Edmund ate in a room heated by a blazing fire, so she stuffed her hair tightly
into a cap and went with them. They sat in a corner of the common room, with
Alais between the two men so that she was hidden from most observers. They did
not speak to her, but only to one another and they did not engage any of the
other guests in conversation. Hugh was reasonably convinced that no one
suspected that the boy was a woman.

That night Alais had no difficulty sleeping, despite
having slept during the day. After dinner, all the travellers had stayed in the
inn’s main room and told stories and sung songs and drunk small beer. In the
warmth and relaxed atmosphere Alais had fallen asleep on Hugh’s shoulder and he
had had to wake her before they could go back to their room.

As they entered their room, Alais asked if she could
brush out her hair, since they could pull the latch on the door to their room.
Edmund immediately got into bed and pretended to go to sleep. Hugh decided to
watch. Alais knew that he was watching and knew that she wanted him to watch.
When she had finished and was about to begin plaiting her hair, she turned and
was surprised to see Hugh sitting on her bed beside her.

“Could I plait it for you? I used to do it for
Isabella.”

She nodded her assent and he began to take her hair into
his hands. At first, she thought he would not get round to plaiting, as he
seemed content to stroke her hair, but eventually he began to divide it into
three. Once his fingers brushed the back of her neck and she felt a shiver of
anticipation throughout her body. Hugh did not touch her again, as his fingers
deftly wove her hair into a thick plait.

She could imagine him sitting with his sister, just as
fair as he was, talking together at the end of the day, but now neither of them
broke the heavy silence and even Edmund was quiet as he lay abed. She only knew
that Hugh was still behind her because she could hear him breathing. He must
have leaned closer because she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. She
turned her head slowly until she was facing him. The silence grew deeper as
they looked into one another’s eyes. Alais could not pull herself away. She
wanted to stay here, like this for ever. For once, she could not tell what Hugh
was thinking. His eyes were black and expressionless and she saw herself
reflected in them. His breath touched her lips. She wanted to pull back and she
also wanted to move forward into the kiss that was waiting for her. Despite her
awareness, she did not notice Hugh move. For one fleeting moment, his lips
brushed hers and then he was gone. She blinked at the suddenness of it.

Finally it was done and the spell broken. Hugh said
nothing as he stood up and crossed the room to get into the bed with Edmund.
Alais took off her tunic and lay down in her own bed, unsure what had happened.
Hugh had kissed her, but not kissed her. That he had intended to kiss her, she
did not doubt, but something had changed his mind. If he had kissed her, she
would not have been able to resist; she would have returned it and thus
betrayed her husband and herself.

Had Hugh remembered this in time? Or had she broken the
spell somehow? Whatever it was, she was now safe. She knew what to avoid
because she knew she could not resist. She was not strong enough. Whatever
happened, Hugh must not touch her again.

The next day would be their last on the journey and Hugh
hoped to arrive at Liss before midday.

Alais’ horse was fully recovered and she was relieved;
she had enjoyed riding with Hugh far too much. Today Hugh seemed returned to
his former self, as if last night had not happened and he seemed to be treating
her like a younger sister again. She, however, knew that she was in danger of
falling in love with the tall knight. Such relationships were the subject of so
many songs and tales that she had never taken them seriously. The songs and
tales were about great heroes of the past; not about the daughter of a traitor
on her way to her husband. She knew herself well enough to know that it was not
just because he had saved her life that she loved him, nor was it because he
had been kind to her when she was in distress. It was because when they had
touched that first time and every time since, it was as if she became more
fully herself. There was no better way to explain it.

Whether she loved him or not, however, Alais could not
become an adulterous. She could not even give the impression that she might
become one. To bring more dishonour on her parents by throwing away the
marriage that her mother had so carefully arranged for her was unthinkable. She
could still remember the excitement at Leigh that had followed Sir William’s
proposal. Even then she and her mother had remained clear-headed. Her mother
had understood the situation exactly and once she had explained it, Alais had,
too. She was not a child to romanticise the offer. It had taken place just
after the death of Lady Maud. Her mother had explained that Sir William needed
her in case his sons did not survive. It was not uncommon for noble families to
die out and, having married for land or money the first time, Sir William was
free to marry someone who would bear him more healthy sons. Alais and her
mother had approved his clear thinking. In the four years since he had lost a grown
son and a daughter. Alais knew what was expected of her and had taken care of
her reputation and her health. She had learned all she could about herbs and
how to look after herself and any children and she had studied the landowners
around Leigh and seen how they treated their wives. Those who could bear
children and bring them to adulthood were treated well. Those who could not
were sometimes cast off and replaced, healthy wives were valued. Although she
knew education was not prized as much, she had also studied hard with Father
Guillaume. She had studied with her brothers and then on her own when she
outstripped them. Her father had always stressed the importance of his
daughters learning as much as they could. They needed to be able to read and
write and do their figures so that they could run their estates while their
husbands were at war, but Alais enjoyed studying and went far beyond what her father
had intended, to the extent that Father Guillaume often taught her alone
because her brothers could not keep up, but more because he enjoyed teaching
someone who was so willing to learn. When the last of her brothers had died,
her uncle had still continued to teach her, although, latterly, it was more of
a joint study. They tended to discuss issues of theology and politics and
history. Sometimes she felt guilty because these were not such things that a
woman should know, but she knew that her uncle enjoyed having someone to talk
to about these matters. He missed the abbey he had been taken from when her
father’s treachery had been discovered. Now Alais wondered what the priest at
Liss would be like. She doubted she would be able to study with him. Her days
would be full with managing the household of her husband. It was strange that
she was already thinking of this as her last day of freedom. Her mother had not
taught her to think of marriage as a prison, but her mother had not thought
about a man such as Hugh; a man who warmed her blood like fire. A man whose
touch could make her think of things no maid should know about.

It was a bright and sunny day and Hugh and Alais talked
as they rode beside one another. Hugh thought the safest topic was the battles
he had fought in, although he suspected Alais would rather have heard more
about his father or the household and retainers at Liss. Edmund joined in to
correct Hugh when he thought he had the facts wrong or was exaggerating and
Alais laughed at the apparent lack of respect of the servant for his master.
Hugh did not mind. One of the few things that he knew he could rely on
absolutely was his relationship with Edmund. He had learned that he could trust
no one else, but that Edmund was completely reliable.

During the night, or when he had broken his fast, he did
not know which, Hugh had resolved that once they reached Liss he would give
Alais up to his father and return to Hill or go back to King Edward in France,
he had yet to decide. Either way, Alais would no longer be his responsibility
and he would have no further contact with them – for many months, perhaps
years.

When Hugh judged that they were about an hour from Liss
they stopped and Alais changed back into her own clothes, hidden from the road
by some trees and Hugh’s cloak. He could tell that she felt more comfortable
and contemplated the rest of the journey with pleasure. At last the manor house
at Liss came into sight. It was like a small castle, built of stone with a moat
and slightly raised up above the village that surrounded it. Hugh viewed it
appraisingly. It was very defensible and he wished that he could do something
of the same at Hill. The only benefit he had there was that any enemy would
have to approach uphill and the villagers had a good view of the area around
them. Perhaps he should build a tower to give them an even greater advantage.
He resolved to write to Matthew and ask him to make enquiries about costs and materials.
The village around Sir William’s house was surprisingly large and many women
came out of the houses to greet Hugh and Edmund and to stare at their lord’s
new lady. The people did not look as well-fed as his people at Hill and that
angered him. His father was wealthy and that wealth should have meant that his
father’s people were better off than this. He knew that his father considered
it a weakness to consider his people’s well-being, but Hugh knew that villeins
who were well-fed worked longer and harder. If they had decent accommodation,
they were healthier. If they were healthier they had a longer working life and
produced more wealth for their lord. None of these arguments had convinced his
father, however.

Word travelled quickly from the village to the manor and
servants were waiting for them in the courtyard as they entered.

“Where is my father?” asked Hugh of the steward.

“Not here, my lord. A messenger came two days ago to
call him to London to the king’s council.”

Hugh wondered what could have happened that could be
important enough to call his father to London. It was late in the year for the
war in France to have started in earnest. The council might know about the raid
on Southampton; messengers would certainly travel faster than he had. Perhaps
the council blamed the southern lords for their lack of preparedness. Certainly
Hugh held the burgesses of Southampton responsible for the ease with which the
French had managed to overrun the town. He would make sure that the king knew
his opinion on that matter.

“He asked that you join him there when you returned.” the
steward continued.

“And what of his wife?” asked Hugh. “What is Lady Alais
to do?”

“He left no instructions regarding Lady Alais.”

Hugh shook his head as he looked at her. “I am sorry, my
lady. This is not what I expected.”

“It is not your fault.”

Whilst he had to agree with her that this turn of events
could not have been predicted, she did not yet appreciate what it would mean
for her that he would have to leave her alone here. For a moment he considered
leaving Edmund behind. He would welcome the time with his family, but Hugh
could see that he might have need of Edmund as a messenger. He would take a
page with him, but he could trust only Edmund with important messages.

“My lord?”

He looked down at Alais.

“I am sorry, my lady, I was thinking about what I would
need to take with me. I will leave in the morning, but I would see you settled
before I go.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

She smiled and he wondered how he would find the
strength to leave her after all.