Wolf Bride (5 page)

But the decision had been made for her. She had no choice but to curtsey, and follow her father and Lord Wolf from the chamber. She had been handed over to the enemy.

Her last days at court passed swiftly. Soon the morning arrived for their long journey to the north. The cold weather had eased a little and sunshine thawed the frost in the courtyard as Eloise was led outside to the covered litter in which she would travel home. She had packed her meagre belongings, and dressed as warmly as she could in a travelling gown, two pairs of thick woollen stockings beneath her skirts to keep out the cold, and a shawl about her shoulders.

She had also been honoured with the lavish parting gift of a gold and pearl brooch from the queen.

Eloise suspected this was as a reward for her silence though, rather than given out of love. She had, after all, witnessed the queen entertaining Wyatt and Norris in her chamber without the king’s consent.

That would not end well, she thought, fearing for the queen now that another pregnancy had ended in bitter disappointment for the king. But she could understand such infidelity rather better now, facing her own arranged marriage with a stranger. Anne had been coerced into a royal union with a man past his best, who had since lost interest in her beyond his need for an heir. Perhaps she was even in love with one of those courtiers, Eloise thought compassionately. But it would be dangerous for her to flirt too openly. Since his jousting accident, King Henry’s temper had grown more notorious by the day; God only knew what he would do if he suspected his wife of adultery.

In the courtyard, the day was grey and chilly. She helped her young maid servant Mary climb into the covered litter, for the queen had insisted she take a girl with her on the journey. Then she looked about for a groom to help her too.

‘Eloise! Wait!’

She turned, hearing the shout, and her lips tightened when she saw who it was.

Simon came hurrying down the steps into the courtyard where her covered litter stood waiting, a rolled-up paper in his hand. Much to her relief, Lord Wolf had not yet emerged from the palace, and her father seemed too busy speaking to the driver to have noticed her former suitor.

‘My love,’ Simon said, embracing her. His lips touched hers, though he did not seem aware of how still she held herself beneath his touch. ‘I’m so glad I caught you, Eloise. I could not stand the thought of you leaving court without so much as a farewell.’

‘It would be best if we did not speak to each other again,’ she told him frankly. ‘I am to be married soon, remember.’

‘I told you, we need not let your marriage to Lord Wolf stand in the way of our desire.’ Simon smiled, holding out the rolled-up paper. ‘Take it, and let my words warm you on your journey north. Only do not show it to your betrothed.’

‘I cannot take it, Simon.’

He seized her hand, stroking her palm intimately with his thumb, and pressed the letter into it. ‘Don’t break my heart with this coldness. At least read what I have written to you, my love.’

‘You must not call me that. You know that you do not love me.’ Frowning, she shook her head at his hurried protest. ‘You only love yourself.’

‘So cruel?’

‘So honest,’ she said drily.

‘My dearest love,’ Simon replied, his look pitying, ‘you will find honesty a worthless enough commodity in a marriage. No wife and husband were ever true to each other, whatever promises they may have made at the altar. And you do not love Lord Wolf,’ he added pointedly. ‘You are only marrying him because your father wills it. Why be faithful to a man who will be your jailor for the rest of your days?’

She looked into his eyes. How deeply she had thought herself in love with Simon once. He still seemed so handsome and charming, it was hard to remember the careless nature of his deceit. Now she knew him for a young man who would think nothing of lying in order to dishonour a maid, or even of stealing a woman from her husband’s bed, so long as their night together brought him satisfaction.

‘Because it is my duty,’ she told him, and felt a chill of despair creep through her heart at those awful words.

‘What’s this?’ a voice asked coldly behind Simon, interrupting them. ‘Fond farewells from your lover?’

Lord Wolf!

Horrified, Eloise realised she was still holding Simon’s letter. She could only imagine what it contained, intimate words of love that could earn her a whipping for wanton behaviour if her father or his lordship discovered it about her person. She thrust the rolled-up letter down into her bodice, and drew her shawl about her shoulders to hide it.

Simon had flushed. He bowed to them both, stammered something about archery practice, and disappeared back up the steps into the palace.

‘How gallant of him to stay and defend your honour,’ Lord Wolf drawled. ‘Come, the morning is already half gone. It is time for us to depart. I have arranged for some of my men to accompany us back to Yorkshire for your protection. Some of the roads in the north can be dangerous for unwary travellers.’ He saw her worried glance at the litter, which would barely house more than two persons, and smiled. ‘Your father and I will ride alongside, so you will be undisturbed.’

He handed her up into the covered litter where young Mary was huddled in the corner, looking very nervous at the prospect of her first long journey. Eloise settled back against the cushions, her face averted.

To her dismay, Lord Wolf leaned forward. ‘Just one more thing,’ he murmured, and pressed a kiss on her lips.

She sat still beneath his kiss, her heart beating violently. She could not help remembering how he had touched her in the garden, and the powerful surge of desire she had felt. Even now it was difficult not to respond, to keep her lips closed beneath his and not lean into his masculine scent.

Then his hand slipped to her bodice, and he withdrew the letter she had hidden there.

‘Now what could this be, I wonder?’ he commented, straightening.

He unrolled the letter, reading though it with a hard face. Then he tore the letter into a dozen pieces and scattered them across her lap.

‘Whatever Simon was to you once,’ he told her coldly, ‘I advise you to forget him. You are mine now; do you understand?’

Lord Wolf did not wait for an answer, but jumped down from the covered litter and strode to his waiting horse.

Eloise dropped the curtain down so she could no longer see him, and sat in silence, her maid staring at her in horror. She wondered what had been in that letter. Had Simon repeated his suggestion that they should meet behind her husband’s back and make love?

If only she had thrown that damned letter in Simon’s face!

The horse pulling the litter began to move. The whole litter jerked, curtains swaying. Mary gave a little cry and clung onto her seat.

Outside, Eloise heard the jingle of harness and reins, Wolf shouting orders to his men in a curt voice, then the clatter of hooves beside the litter as the cavalcade made its slow, lurching way out of the courtyard and through the palace gates.

She brushed the torn pieces of letter from her lap and sat in an angry silence for the first few miles of their journey, eyes closed as though trying to sleep, but frowning. She could not help touching her lips from time to time, still tingling from his mouth. How could he arouse such pleasure in her body with just one kiss?

Whichever way she looked at it, there was no avoiding the truth of her situation. Wolf was to be her lord and master, and it seemed there was little she could do to escape him.

CHAPTER THREE

Their first day of journeying was exhausting; the litter jolted from side to side as the roads worsened north of London. By the time they reached the wayside inn where her father had arranged for them to spend the night, Eloise was too weary even to contemplate dinner. She slept in the cramped chamber she was sharing with her maid, then she and Mary rose at dawn the next morning to breakfast and continue their journey.

The next day was just as cold. A bitter wind snatched at the litter curtains, lifting them with every gust. Eloise wrapped herself in furs, glancing out at the occasional flash of green countryside. More accustomed now to the lurching progress of the wagon, she tried to sew her sampler at first. Needlework reminded her of long days of incarceration in her childhood, forced to sit and be docile with the other girls when what she wanted was to ride free across the fields. Yet she knew such domestic skills would be expected of her as Lady Wolf, so she persevered for a while, aware of Mary’s curious gaze on her face.

Her good intentions did not last long, however. Watching the intricate movements of the needle made her feel sick. Soon she laid her sampler aside, staring restlessly at the men riding alongside the litter. How much less tedious it would be if she too could ride home, she considered. But such a long ride would be unthinkable for a gently reared lady of the court.

‘Have you ever travelled before, Mary?’

Her maid shook her head, wide-eyed. ‘Never, Mistress. I was born in Greenwich and never left there before, nor ever wanted to. They do say it’s terrible cold up north.’

‘I’m afraid it can be in the winter,’ Eloise agreed.

‘And there are ruffians on the road, or so I heard. Robbers and murderers!’

‘Further north it can be dangerous to travel unaccompanied. We should be safe enough though, with all these stout-hearted soldiers about us. Robbers rarely attack wagons where there are so many armed men to overcome.’

Mary seemed unconvinced. But she gladly accepted a drink of ale when Eloise suggested they open the basket of provisions her father had procured from the inn.

The ale seemed to loosen the girl’s tongue. Her face was soon flushed, her conversation less shy. ‘Are you looking forward to your wedding, Mistress? It will be exciting to dress you for the marriage feast. My last mistress died of childbed fever, but she looked lovely before the altar. Only sixteen years of age, she was, but pretty as a magpie with black hair and white skin.’ Her maid looked at her appraisingly. ‘With your golden hair, you would suit scarlet or deep blue for a wedding gown. With poppies or cornflowers in your hair.’

‘I have hardly thought of what to wear,’ Eloise murmured. ‘Not that it matters yet. My wedding is still far off.’

Mary looked at her coyly. ‘Is that so, Mistress? I thought you would be wed as soon as we arrived in Yorkshire, from what they were saying at court.’

Eloise looked at her sharply. She disliked the idea that she had become a source of court gossip, though she supposed it was inevitable with a bridegroom of Lord Wolf’s stature and reputation. He was handsome and influential enough to have drawn the eye of many restless wives and maids at court, and could have had his pick of the younger women for a bride. Though she had heard no gossip against him in that way. It seemed her prospective husband had been careful to avoid entangling himself with any one mistress in particular, whatever discreet pleasures he might have taken on his returns from the battlefield.

He was a clever man, she had to grant him that.

‘And what were they saying?’

‘Only that his lordship was most impatient to be wed,’ Mary whispered, watching her with a sly smile on her face. ‘That he would barely wait for the banns to be decently read in church before dragging you off to his bed.’

‘Mary!’

‘Forgive me, Mistress.’ Her maid bit her lip, looking down at her hands. ‘Though there’s no shame in a man’s impatience. At least his lordship will not be an indifferent husband.’

Eloise did not know how to answer that, so she bade the girl hold her tongue and pass her a box of sweet comfits. But she felt uneasy at the thought of Wolf’s impatience.

In a hastily arranged marriage such as this, where the unfortunate bride was all but whipped to the altar, indifference on the husband’s part would be a blessing. The thought of Lord Wolf’s desire was alarming, though she knew it was merely desire for an heir. She should do her duty swiftly and produce one. Then his lordship might leave her alone.

She tried to sidestep the prickling awareness that she might not find accepting Lord Wolf in her bed such a hardship.

‘I still say cornflowers for your hair,’ Mary muttered, then fell silent under Eloise’s stare.

It had been important to bring a maidservant with her as a chaperone, even with her own father as one of the party, but she would have preferred to bring someone less talkative. Since none of the other maids could be spared, Mary had been assigned to her. The girl was several years older than her, and did not seem much in awe of her now they had left court.

Still, it was a long journey to the cold reaches of the North Riding, and there would be few at home who knew so much of courtly life. Mary would at least be able to make her gowns and dress her hair in the latest fashions; as Lady Wolf she would be expected to look more elegant than she had ever looked at home, and a maid who had served the queen’s ladies would make her the envy of her neighbours.

‘Let’s try to get some sleep, shall we?’

Mary nodded her assent and settled back, closing her eyes, though the likelihood of getting much sleep was remote with the litter swaying so violently.

The wagon bearing them took a sharp bend and Eloise swayed, clutching at the seat rail. The curtain blew back momentarily in the gusting wind, and she caught a glimpse of Lord Wolf riding alongside the litter.