Hostage Bride

‘You want me to live but there’s no hope left, child. All hope fled when she died.’

‘Mother would be so angry with you!’ Rosamunde exclaimed. ‘The servants have neglected the house and the yard. She would not have liked that, Father.’

‘I know it. She would also be angry that I sent you away to your cousin, daughter, but what else could I do? If you stay here you will end in poverty.’

‘Could we not petition the King for a pension?’

‘If Richard were home he might do something for us, but he will need money himself. His ransom has not yet been paid. I gave all I had, but I should have thought of you instead, Rosamunde.’

‘Do not worry about me, Father. Perhaps I shall find someone who will marry me.’

‘If I had a dowry for you it would give you a chance, but I have spent even that, child. Your mother would not let me while she lived, but when she died I spent it on building a tomb for her.’

‘Do not look so sad, Father.’ Rosamunde reached for his hand. ‘Tell me, why did you borrow money from my uncle? Where did it go?’

‘Where did all the money go? I wasted it on others instead of saving it for my child. Did I borrow from your uncle?’ Her father wrinkled his brow. ‘I cannot recall the debt, Rosamunde, but your mother’s brother is a good man. If he says there is a debt, it must be so. He has helped me many times and I owe him more than I could ever repay. If he asks something of you, you must oblige him for my honour’s sake.’

Rosamunde’s heart sank. She’d thought for a moment he would deny the debt, but the truth was he was too old and sick to know. He had beggared himself by his generosity and now he was ill. At least she could make sure that he died in his own bed. Angelina had promised the debt would be paid if she took her place, and she’d also promised a gift of fifty gold talents. It was a large sum of money and would feed the household here for months, as well as pay her father’s taxes.

‘Well?’ Angelina demanded when she walked into the inn bedchamber the next morning. ‘You’ve seen your father—what did he say?’

‘He does not recall the debt; he is too old and ill to know. But it does not matter if you are lying. You promised me fifty gold talents if I help you—will you keep your word?’

‘Come to me after you’ve delivered the ransom and I will pay you.’ Angelina’s eyes gleamed suddenly. ‘I shall give you my bond and seal it. It will be binding in law.’

‘Very well, I shall do as you ask,’ Rosamunde said. Her father had told her she must do all she could for her uncle for his honour and, though he could not have guessed what that entailed, Rosamunde felt duty-bound to obey him. Unless she took the ransom her uncle might languish in prison for ever. ‘If Lord Mornay does not accept me as you, I shall forfeit all right to the money, but if he does I shall return to claim my dues.’

‘Yes, of course. There is paper in my coffer. Bring me a quill and ink and I shall write the bond for you,’ Angelina said.

Her cousin sat down at a board. Rosamunde went to her coffer and brought her parchment, ink, a pen and sealing wax. She read the document. Angelina promised her fifty gold talents and the cancellation of her father’s debt, once Count Torrs was released, and she sealed it with her own ring.

Rosamunde placed the parchment inside her tunic. ‘If I am to pose as you, I should have servants. Is Margaret to come with me?’

‘No, I need her myself. I will arrange for one of the inn servants to go with you.’

‘I asked Maire to accompany me here, so I will take her with me. She is old and my father’s other servants will care for him until we return.’

‘What will you do afterwards?’ Angelina asked, though for once she could not look her cousin in the face.

‘I shall return to my father. I shall send Maire for my money and care for my father until he dies.’

‘You should use the money to buy yourself a husband. Not many knights would take you for so little, but you might find a freeman who would wed you. It would set you up in a modest inn where you might earn your living.’

‘I thank you for your advice, cousin, but my father needs someone to care for him.’

‘Well, you must do as you please,’ Angelina said a little uncomfortably. ‘We shall send three men as your escort, but once you reach Lord Mornay’s castle you and your nurse will go in alone.’

‘But why? Surely they will wait and escort me home?’

‘They will wait outside the castle for three days. After that, they will leave you to make your own way.’

‘Why will they not come in with me?’ Rosamunde frowned. ‘What are you not telling me, Angelina?’

She sensed that her cousin was hiding something but could not tell what it might be.

‘I am telling you how it must be. Lord Mornay demands that your escort leave once you are inside the castle. He will not admit armed men into his bailey.’

‘I think there is more to this than you have told me,’ Rosamunde said, suddenly suspicious. ‘Will you not tell me the truth, cousin?’

‘There is no more to tell. You should leave now. Lord Mornay expects you before nightfall.’

Rosamunde inclined her head and turned away. What had she missed that day when she’d overheard her cousin plotting with Sir Thomas to send Rosamunde in her stead? There was something more than the simple payment of a ransom—but what?

Rosamunde noticed the odd looks her escort gave her as they waited for her to approach them. She wondered what they were thinking, but did not ask. She was certain that Angelina had not told her the whole truth.

‘Why are you going to this man?’ Maire asked. ‘I have heard of Lord Mornay. He is an evil, wicked man and people fear him.’

Rosamunde frowned at this; perhaps the old woman was simply exaggerating. ‘I am to take the ransom for my uncle—I told you, Maire. When Count Torrs is free, my cousin will pay me fifty gold talents and my father’s debt is cancelled. I shall come home and look after him—and the rest of you. Somehow I will earn a living for us all.’

‘What could a girl like you do to earn money?’ Maire looked scornful.

‘I can sew and cook. Perhaps I can make dresses for the wives of noblemen. Even if I earn just enough to buy hens and a cow it will help. We could raise our own pigs and grow our own worts and soft fruits.’

‘And what of the taxes? The prince’s collectors took much of what we had the last time they came—armour, silver and pewter that would have fetched far more than your father owed them. If he had been stronger he could have forced them to take just what was due, but they knocked us aside and stole what they pleased.’

‘If King Richard returns he will put a stop to his brother’s unfair taxes,’ Rosamunde said. ‘It is not right that people should be treated so badly.’

‘Aye, that’s what everyone hopes, but it is not likely that the prince will pay his brother’s ransom. Why should he when he has the power?’

‘I am sure that the King has enough loyal supporters to raise the money. In time he will return.’

Rosamunde gave her hand to the groom and was helped to mount the horse she had been given for her journey. She decided that she would keep both Maire’s pony and this horse. Angelina could deduct their worth from the fifty talents if she chose, but at least Rosamunde would have something. She did not trust her cousin at all, for there had been an odd, sly look in her eyes when she had given her the paper.

‘I would help you if I could, lady.’

Rosamunde looked at the man who had spoken in surprise. An icy shiver ran down her spine despite the warmth of the day. It was late September and, though overcast, very warm. ‘I do not understand you, Fitzherbert.’

‘You will be in great danger, lady. The Lord Mornay is not a good man.’

It was what Maire had tried to tell her. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘He preys on his neighbours, takes them prisoner and holds them to ransom. Sometimes he steals their womenfolk and holds them until …’ The man stopped, his cheeks red. ‘It is wrong that Lady Angelina sends you in her place. In all honour, she should pay the price demanded, not you.’

Rosamunde felt chilled. What price exactly was she expected to pay? Something told her that Fitzherbert was not speaking only of the thousand gold talents strapped to the packhorse.

‘What price is that, sir?’ she asked.

‘She has not told you? The last woman who took a ransom for her husband was disparaged and returned to her home after a month. She took her life by walking into the river, because her husband no longer respected her. He said he would rather have rotted in prison than have her lie with such a man.’