Lady Rowena's Ruin. Carol Townend
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this is Lady Rowena de Sainte-Colombe, she will be staying at Monfort for a time.’
‘Yes, sir, I remember you told me last eve.’
‘Is her chamber ready?’
‘Yes, sir.’
Eric nodded. ‘Thank you, Helvise.’ His brow creased. ‘I am going to show Lady Rowena up and I should like you to accompany us. For form’s sake.’
The woman’s gaze travelled slowly from Eric to Rowena and back to Eric again. For no reason that she could think of, Rowena felt her cheeks heat.
‘For form’s sake,’ Helvise muttered. ‘Of course, sir.’
They wound their way up a stairwell lit by slender lancets and stepped out on to a landing at one end of the gallery. Rowena could see right down into the hall. There were two doorways, Eric leaned past her and lifted the latch of the second door.
With Helvise hovering at their backs, Eric and Rowena squeezed into a shadowy bedchamber. It wasn’t large, there was only room for the two of them. Rowena squeezed up against the wall next to a shuttered window whilst Eric flung back the shutters. Light poured in. The spring breeze ruffled Eric’s hair.
The window looked out over a wooded area. Rowena could see the river gleaming through the foliage and a man leading a donkey along a narrow track. There was movement under the tree canopy, and one of the horsemen they’d seen earlier rode into a scrap of sunlight and said something to the man with the donkey.
Rowena sighed, her father’s man was doubtless checking up on them. When the rider tipped back his head to examine the tower, instinct had her drawing back from the window.
‘Well?’ Eric was waiting for her reaction. ‘Can you manage in here?’
In a corner of the bedchamber there was a tiny hearth; on the opposite wall a row of hooks. Other than the bed, there was nothing, it was as spare as her cell in the convent.
‘This is fine. Thank you, sir.’
Eric shoved his hand through his hair. ‘It is plain, I know, and the fireplace is small. You could have my bedchamber which is larger, but I didn’t think you would be comfortable there.’
‘No indeed, my father’s request has inconvenienced you enough.’ The bed here certainly swallowed up most of the space. The sheets appeared to be linen and a couple of blankets were heaped up at the foot. ‘Truly, sir, this chamber will suit me well.’
Eric nodded and sent Helvise one of the smiles that Rowena remembered from his time at Jutigny. It was the smile of a man used to getting his way with women, full of charm and confidence. ‘Helvise, do you know of anyone prepared to try her hand at being a maid? Someone who might be ready to take on some lighter tasks for a time.’
‘You mean me, sir?’
‘If you wish.’
‘Thank you, sir, I would appreciate that,’ Helvise said, in a cool tone that seemed to say otherwise.
‘It will mean you bedding down here with Lady Rowena.’
‘For as long as she’s here, you mean, sir?’
‘Aye.’
Rowena made a sharp movement. ‘Eric, what about Helvise’s husband? Surely he will object? He will want to be with her, particularly since Helvise is so near her time.’
The sudden silence told her she had blundered. Eric’s face confirmed it, his expression seemed to freeze. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth, but Helvise got there first.
‘Don’t worry about that, my lady,’ Helvise said. The girl lifted her chin so defensively that Rowena understood without being told that Helvise wasn’t married. ‘I am more than content to act as your maid. I have had enough of shifting logs.’
Cheeks hot, embarrassed by her mistake, Rowena nodded. Helvise wasn’t married and she was having a baby. It was very unorthodox, shocking even. Who was the baby’s father? A horrible thought rushed in on her.
Could Eric be the father? It wasn’t a line of thought Rowena wanted to pursue, but her father had forced her into a position where she might seriously have to consider marrying this man. She needed to know what sort of a husband he would make. Eric was known to be a terrible flirt, would he take his marriage vows seriously? The idea that he might stray didn’t sit well with her. The question echoed through her mind. Was Helvise Eric’s lover?
Eric was bowing her out of the chamber. ‘If it pleases you, I will show you the rest of the manor.’
‘Thank you.’ Rowena followed him from the chamber and on to the minstrel’s gallery, staring at his broad shoulders. He was so tall. She fixed her gaze on his dark head as he pointed out the doors at the other end of the gallery. He was saying something about building extra garderobes. Her thoughts rushed on. She really didn’t like the idea that he might stray. She wasn’t going to marry Eric, so why did she find the idea that he might take a lover so distasteful? It was most peculiar.
Last year, when Rowena had been betrothed to Lord Gawain she had discovered he had a long-standing mistress. Seeing that Lord Gawain loved the woman, Rowena recalled telling him that after their marriage she wouldn’t mind him seeking his pleasure elsewhere. And it hadn’t been because she had disliked the man, far from it. Grief-stricken though she had been, she had liked Lord Gawain, very much. He had seemed a fair-minded, reasonable man. Notwithstanding that, she wouldn’t have minded him keeping a mistress. Why then was the thought of marrying Eric and having to watch him take his pleasure elsewhere so utterly repugnant?
She had idolised Eric as a child, that must have something to do with it. Each time she’d seen him teasing a Jutigny maid, her insides had twisted. She’d been jealous. Even today she could hear faint echoes of her childhood longings.
Her parents had tried to protect her innocence. In that they hadn’t been entirely successful, Rowena knew full well that many married men kept mistresses. And when she’d given Lord Gawain leave to keep his lover after their marriage, she’d meant it, she truly wouldn’t have minded.
Had she felt that way because she’d been reeling from the horror of Mathieu’s untimely death? It seemed likely. Back then Rowena had been deep in mourning. It had been far too soon for her to think about marrying anyone else. Why, even the thought of kissing Lord Gawain had made her want to take to her heels.
Rowena heard Helvise take her leave and murmured her thanks. How odd that she could still hear echoes of her former childish longings. The idea of Eric being unfaithful really wasn’t pleasant. In a way though, it was a relief. It must mean she was at last getting over the shock of losing Mathieu.
Eric was pointing at a doorway across the gallery, telling her that that was his chamber. Nodding, Rowena leaned on the gallery guardrail and looked down into the hall. A door slammed and shortly afterwards Helvise walked into view and crossed the hall.
‘She’s going to the cookhouse,’ Eric murmured, following her gaze.
‘Helvise runs your household?’
‘Since I took over this manor, Helvise has been in charge of domestic matters, yes.’ A frown brought his eyebrows together. ‘She is very capable and very stubborn.’
‘Sir?’
‘Given that her baby will arrive soon, she does far too much.’ His hand covered hers. ‘She will not rest and I have been looking for a way to lighten her load.’ He gave her one of his light-hearted grins and squeezed her fingers. Rowena’s heart did a little skip. ‘I never expected your father would ask me to kidnap you, but since he has, I am very pleased that you will accept Helvise as your maid. She needs to be made to do less.’
‘I am happy to help,’ Rowena murmured.
‘I realise Helvise might not make an ideal maidservant, she will need training.’
Rowena