Forbidden Lady. Anne HerriesЧитать онлайн книгу.
do not fear you,’ she replied, and yet she knew it was a lie. To be with him like this would bring back the sleepless nights and the terrible pain she had endured for months.
‘I have always admired your courage,’ he said.
Melissa relaxed slightly against the hardness of his chest. For this little time, she would let herself believe that the bad things that stood between them had never been. She would let herself remember a young man who smiled at her with love in his eyes and the sweetness of his kisses. For a few short weeks, while her father was absent from the castle, they had met in secret, wandering through the woods hand in hand or riding together on his horse as now. Once he had taken her to a fair, buying her sweetmeats and ribbons from the peddlers…so few memories, but each one precious. If only her father had not forbidden the marriage…if only she had run away with him before it was too late! She held back the sob, which rose to her lips, because she must not give way to the overwhelming longing, the desire to tell Rob the truth…but would he even care or believe her? After seeing scorn and anger in his eyes, she thought that it would only shame her to confess her love.
They rode in silence for some time, covering a distance of no more than five leagues when the forbidding shadow of the great Abbey fell across their path. It was a thirteenth-century building with arches, narrow windows, little bigger than arrow slits, and a massive undercroft, built to house both monks and nuns in separate quarters. At the huge gates of iron-studded oak, Rob dismounted and lifted Melissa down, placing her gently on her feet before turning to tug at the rope, which rang the bell above the arch.
Moments later, a nun came to answer the summons, and looked out through a little peephole in the gate. Melissa gave her name and the nun recognised it, beginning to draw back the huge bolts that kept the gate secure to admit her.
‘I must leave you now.’ Rob made his bow to Melissa. His expression was cold and hard, his manner reserved. ‘If I were you, lady. I should send word to your home. It would be folly to attempt the return without an escort.’
‘Yes, perhaps…’ Melissa raised her head, then, her expression a little hesitant. ‘Thank you, sir. You have done more than I could have expected.’
‘I did what any decent man would do for any lady in distress, no more and no less.’
Melissa inclined her head, regretting the coldness between them. Once he had smiled at her, his bold eyes challenging her but with warmth…with love. He had loved her once, she knew, but she had killed his love—and her brother had humbled his pride, making him cold and bitter. How could she expect more from him? She raised her eyes to his, her own pride making her seem haughty, though inside she was weeping for what had been lost and would not come again.
Rob left her as she was admitted to the Abbey, remounting and riding on even as his men brought in her kinsman. He had wasted precious hours and must ride all the harder if he were to reach his home in time.
Melissa lingered a moment to watch the knight ride away. She knew that he had saved her from a fate worse than death for the men who had attacked her would hardly have been satisfied to take her purse. Yet to leave secretly, without an escort, had been her only chance of escaping her father’s tyranny.
Lord Whitbread had been visiting someone of importance and she had been informed that he might bring a guest with him when he came home. She knew that he was thinking of finding a husband for her and she believed that his guest might be the man he was considering giving her to in marriage.
However, the letter from her aunt telling her that she was unwell had made up her mind. She had seized it as her excuse and taken the chance to escape the domination of her father.
Lord Whitbread had never been kind to his daughter. Melissa’s mother had died in childbed and for some reason Lord Whitbread had chosen never to marry again. He had acknowledged Harold his bastard son as his heir. Harold might be a great brute of a man, coarse and strong with the manners of an oaf, but he was clever in his own way and had found favour with his father.
Melissa did not know why her half brother should be so favoured by their father, while she, his legitimate child, was scorned. She knew that he hated her and she feared him, though his habit of cuffing her about the head had ceased since her fifteenth birthday. He had suddenly realised that she was a beautiful young woman, and that her beauty might be an asset. In the time since then Melissa had lived in dread of the marriage he would make for her. She knew that he would not take her feelings into account and that she would be sold for position or power.
Sometimes she wished that she was not an heiress, for then she might have been allowed to live in obscurity and peace. However, her mother’s father had been the Earl of Somersham and his lands had been left in trust for her when he died earlier that year because he had no other heir. Melissa had begged to be allowed to retire to her lands, but her father had refused her. Until she married she was under his domain, and he meant to use her beauty and wealth to his advantage.
Melissa was sure that had he been able to snatch her lands from her—her father would have done so without compunction. However, the earl had made King Richard the steward of her fortune, and her death would have brought no gain to her father with the estate then becoming the property of the Crown. Even now, her father would have to gain the consent of the King to her marriage. Melissa was praying that if her aunt recovered her health, which she prayed she would, she might petition His Majesty to allow her to retire to the Abbey. She was recalled to the present, as she became aware that the nun was speaking.
‘It is good that you have come, my lady,’ the nun was saying. ‘Mother Abbess has asked for you many times.’
‘I would have come before if I could,’ Melissa said, and glanced at the men who were bringing Owain in. ‘But we were attacked and my kinsman has been injured. Will you tend him, sister? Forgive me, I do not know your name?’
‘I am Sister Cecile,’ the nun told her. ‘The monks will tend to your servant as in this order we are not allowed to care for men, only women, unless given special dispensation by the Bishop—but your kinsman may be admitted and taken to the infirmary. However, the rest of your men must stay outside the gates.’
‘They are the men of…a gallant knight who came to my rescue,’ Melissa said. ‘They will depart once they have done their duty—but I do not intend to leave just yet. How is the Abbess? It is some weeks since I had her letter, but I was not able to make the journey here until now.’
‘A little better this morning,’ Sister Cecile told her with a smile. She waited until Melissa’s women and the men carrying the injured Owain were inside the gates before addressing them. ‘You must take him to the infirmary and leave by that gate. The monks will attend you, good sirs.’
Rob’s men inclined their heads and went off in the direction of the outbuilding she had indicated. Cecile led the way towards the building used by the nuns. A high wall and another heavy gate separated the living quarters of the nuns and the monks, though the chapel was used by both for worship.
‘I thank God that He has spared her,’ Melissa said as Sister Cecile led the way. ‘I feared that I might be too late as she said that she had been gravely ill.’
‘Indeed, when you were sent for we thought she might not last the night,’ Sister Cecile said. ‘But come, lady. I shall take you to her quarters. Your women will be cared for by my sisters and you may see them later.’
Melissa turned to her women, telling them that she would see them in a little while, and then followed Sister Cecile inside the living quarters provided for the Sisters of Mercy. Although it was a warm day in June, Melissa shivered as she went inside the stone building. It had only tiny windows and the sun was shut out by the thickness of the walls. Even wearing her cloak over her silk tunic and surcote, she still felt chilled. Glancing at Sister Cecile, she saw that the nun did not seem to notice the cold, and realised that she was accustomed to the discomfort.
For a moment Melissa was discouraged. Did she truly wish to devote her life to God? Once she had thought that happiness, love and children were her future—but now she knew that all that was at an end. Melissa realised