Her Banished Lord. Carol TownendЧитать онлайн книгу.
He gave her an intent look. ‘Did you intend to go to Honfleur?’
‘I still do intend it, Hugh.’
‘I see.’ He cleared his throat.
Whatever was the matter with him? Aude might not have seen much of Hugh lately, but she knew him well enough to be certain that something she had said had given him pause. What on earth could it be? His lips were curved, yet she would swear he was concealing something.
Their eyes met. Aude’s thoughts became tangled; Hugh had a way of looking at her that disordered her mind. His gaze skimmed over her—brow, eyes, cheeks, lips, nose…she could feel it as one might feel a caress. Yet his expression remained shadowed as he turned his attention back to the barge. It was impossible to shake off the impression that something she had said worried him.
She must be mistaken. Naturally Hugh was troubled, he was weighed down with so many problems it was a miracle he remained standing. That pensive look had to be connected to his banishment. Yet the thought remained, Hugh was unhappy about her desire to go to Honfleur. Why on earth should that be?
‘Aude, didn’t Edouard send your baggage back to the lodge?’
‘Yes, but afterwards I recalled you mentioning this boat, so I had everything carted here.’
‘Does Edouard know that you have no intention of abandoning your plans?’
Aude’s chin inched up. It was no business of Hugh’s what she had told her brother, but perhaps that explained his change of mood. Her disobedience disturbed him. This was the eleventh century and women were meant to be obedient. Women were little more than chattels and men did not allow their chattels to display wills of their own.
Which was the very reason she was so eager to reach Alfold.
At Alfold, which Count Richard had gifted wholly to her, she would be her own mistress. For the first time in her life, she would only have herself to answer to.
‘I am not one of my brother’s men that I must rush to obey his every whim.’
Hugh removed his hand from hers. Aude felt a distinct pang; she liked it when he touched her. It had felt as though he was her particular friend, that he was concerned for her and would stand by her if he could. Which, given his disgrace, was utterly absurd.
‘You had best go aboard,’ he was saying. ‘To make quite certain nothing is lost.’
Ever the courtier, even when being hounded from the Duchy, Hugh handed her politely up the gangplank and on to the deck. High in an overhanging willow, a blackbird was singing.
The ship’s master had left a boy on board to act as a guard, he was dozing in the shifting shadows on a couple of empty grain sacks. Hearing their footfall, the boy leaped to his feet and rushed into speech.
‘Lady Aude! I…I didn’t hear you. There is no need for concern; as you see, the wave didn’t get us.’
Hugh nodded pleasantly at him. Several packing cases were roped into place, but Hugh didn’t recognise any of them as being the ones he had unloaded from the other barge back in port. ‘All accounted for, Aude?’
‘Yes.’
Really, Hugh thought, running his gaze over the crowded deck, there will scarcely be space to breathe when this ship is full. ‘Are you taking horses, Aude? It will be very cramped. And what about an escort—you are taking an escort, I assume?’ Lord, it looked as though he was going to have to repeat his actions of this morning, and unload her baggage from this barge too. There will be hell to pay when she finds out. It struck him that he had yet to see Aude truly angry. The thought of Aude in a fury was unexpectedly tantalising. And extremely distracting. It stirred his blood—in truth, the thought of Aude in a fury stirred him in places that had no place stirring when he was planning to steal her place on this barge.
For a moment Hugh could barely think. He found himself fighting the urge to pull Aude into his arms, to tug that veil from her head and press his lips into the curve of her neck. Suddenly Aude was temptation incarnate. Bemused, he gazed at her mouth. He wanted to taste it while she was smiling; he wanted to taste it while she was angry. When she learns what I have done, will her eyes spark with a fire to match that glorious hair? Now that—he bit back a smile—would surely be worth seeing…
‘An escort?’ Aude put her nose in the air. Hugh’s questions struck her as impertinent. ‘I have thought of that, thank you.’ She went over to the larger of her new, painted trunks and nudged it with her foot. It seemed secure.
Conflicting thoughts tugged at her. She was conscious of an impulse to trust him, to open her heart to him, but that would be folly indeed. Men usually stuck together, so the less she told Hugh, the better. He and Edouard might not be acknowledging each other in public, but she had seen the looks they had exchanged this morning. Hugh’s banishment had not extinguished their friendship.
Yet the impulse to confide in Hugh remained powerful. Aude had long nursed a fondness for Hugh Duclair, and had thought that if ever there was a man she might trust, it would be him. Yes, men generally stuck together and while she had a fondness for this one, he was—unfortunately—not in the least bit malleable.
These days Hugh’s looks…really, he had become terrifyingly attractive. Those wide shoulders, that thick sun-kissed hair that betrayed his Viking blood-lines, that careless manner, that easy confidence. He seemed to draw her to him; the same thing had happened last spring. She wanted to reach out, to touch, to stroke…
Sinful, sensual thoughts.
But being with Hugh did not simply put sinful thoughts into Aude’s head, other thoughts were also taking shape. Strange half-formed longings for a world in which there were men who formed genuine friendships with women. What an extraordinary idea—of course it was possible for men to form friendships with women! Ladies might be considered chattels by their menfolk, but that did not prevent friendships from developing between men and women, as she herself knew. Her betrothal to Martin might have been made for political reasons; none the less Martin had adored her. Even though at times—here, a shockingly disloyal thought startled a frown out of her—Martin had seemed somewhat distant…
Was Hugh fond of her? In the past Aude had had her hopes. And then, without warning, the past rushed back at her and the tumultuous events of 1066 were sharp in her mind. Painfully sharp. Aude nibbled her finger. She did not understand it, but in some way Hugh Duclair’s impending banishment made the events of 1066 seem even more poignant…
It had been a fateful year. It was not only the year that Duke William took the English crown, it was also the year that Aude’s father, Sir Hamon, had died.
With her grandfather in exile and the family lands confiscated, her father had been a landless knight like Sir Olivier. Sir Hamon had longed to inherit Crèvecoeur and Corbeil, but with his father’s lands held under stewardship for the King, he had never lived to see that hope fulfilled.
Poor Father. Tears pricked at the back of Aude’s eyes.
In 1066, the Duchy had been buzzing like a hornet’s nest; talk of war had been on everyone’s lips. Her father had resolved to go to the seaport of Dives where he would enlist with the invasion force. He had been full of optimism concerning his future.
‘Mark my words, Aude,’ Sir Hamon had said as she had ridden up with him to a bustling inn near the Dives shipyard where Duke William’s fleet was being built. ‘This venture of the Duke’s will be the making of our family.’
Blinking firmly, Aude dismissed the memory. It only made her sad. That night near the Dives shipyard had been the night her father had died, killed not while fighting gloriously for his Duke, but in a squalid tavern brawl.
She had been thirteen years old.
Aude shot Hugh a sidelong glance. Sweet Mother, let Hugh forget me as I was at the time. The shame of it! For in 1066, Aude had been serving her impoverished father as his squire, and when