Passion in the Blood Read online

  The Abbesse gasped. Robert glared at Pierre.

  “Robert.” It was Dorianne’s frail voice. He turned to look at her.

  “If he’s truly sorry, I can forgive him. He’s my brother.”

  Robert wanted to shake her. His head suddenly ached and his belly churned. She was too trusting, too naive. Weaned on hatred, she personified love. He didn’t want to upset her. She was still very ill. He bent to whisper in her ear. “We can discuss it later.”

  She nodded, but replied, “I would accept his kiss of contrition now.”

  Robert shook from head to foot with anger, but had no choice but to watch the emboldened Pierre draw close to his sister and kiss her forehead. “Forgive me, ma soeur. I should have been the one to protect you. I am sorry I hurt you. I free you from this novitiate.”

  Dorianne’s eyes filled with tears. “I forgive you, Pierre. I thank God you have come back to me.”

  Pierre stepped back, sniffling and brushing away a tear. “I trust she can remain here until she has recovered, ma mère?”

  The nun nodded. “It will be a few more days yet before she can travel.”

  Robert wanted to seize Pierre, bundle him into the masons’ basket, hoist it up to the roof and cut it loose. Instead he leaned close to his future brother-by-marriage and in a low voice said, “If you ever hurt her again, I will kill you.”

  Robert saw no contrition in Pierre’s eyes.

  “I must return home, Dorianne. I’ll inform father of what has transpired and of your upcoming nuptials.”

  She smiled weakly. Robert sensed she was nearing the end of her endurance. She closed her eyes and drifted off with a sigh.

  Hugh spoke for the first time as they watched Pierre stroll out of the infirmary. “I wouldn’t trust the whelp as far as I could throw him.”

  “My feelings exactly.” Robert exhaled loudly and patted his uncle on the back. “Seems we’re here for a bit longer. Thank you for supporting me in this.”

  Hugh took his elbow. “Did I ever tell you the story of how I rescued Devona?”

  Robert laughed. “Many times, Uncle Hugh, many times!”

  CHAPTER NINE

  They took advantage of the two days spent waiting for Dorianne’s condtion to improve by planning their next move. One afternoon they rode back to the mainland to confer with Melton and Mathieu. The most important thing was to get Robert and Dorianne to England. Robert wanted to explain personally to his parents his intention to marry a Giroux, and he needed them to meet Dorianne when he did.

  Hugh summed up their discussions. “The best plan is to subject Dorianne to as little time as possible on horseback. I propose we ride to Cherbourg—a day’s ride. We can take ship for Portsmouth, which is usually an easier crossing. From there, we’ll make our way to Melton Manor where Dorianne can recuperate for a few days before you complete the journey to Ellesmere. Melton, Mathieu and I can return after we’ve made sure all is running smoothly with some of our other manors in Sussex, and you can carry on with the men-at-arms.”

  Mathieu had another suggestion. “These sheep must belong to someone hereabouts. I’ll seek him out and perhaps procure a cart for Dorianne.”

  Melton looked out across the bay. “You’d better make your way back. The fog is rolling in. You don’t want to be crossing those sands in fog. You could find yourself riding out to sea!”

  The going was indeed treacherous as Hugh and Robert slowly made their way back to the Abbey, relying only on the faint traces of hoof prints as white fog blanketed the black sands.

  ***

  Robert spent long hours watching Dorianne sleep, willing her to recover. He studied her face in repose, trying to ascertain what it was that had enthralled him. He couldn’t explain it. She was beautiful, there was no doubt, but he’d known many beautiful women, yet none had appealed to him.

  Was it her innocence? The urge to be the first to possess her was powerful, but he sensed this ‘innocent’ had a passionate side to her that would bring him more than simple physical release.

  There was an elusive something about Dorianne de Giroux that had enslaved him the moment he’d set eyes on her. Had she bewitched him? And she could be stubborn. He’d tried repeatedly to shake her belief in Pierre’s repentance, but she was steadfast. Too trusting, too naive. But it was what he loved about her. He would protect her from her naiveté.

  I am in love with this woman.

  He put his hand on her shoulder. She stirred and looked up at him. He was relieved she looked better, but it would still be a harrowing journey for her.

  “The tide is well out, and Melton and Mathieu have brought a cart for you, but perhaps we should wait one more day,” he suggested.

  Dorianne shook her head. “Non, I want to be gone from this place. The Abbesse brought my own clothes back to me yestereve. I’ll dress and meet you on the path.”

  He kissed her on the forehead and went to join the other men. The cart was crude and dirty, but it had four good wheels, and would be more comfortable than a horse. Overwhelmed by Mathieu’s generous offer, the grinning farmer had thrown in his own services and a weary-looking carthorse.

  “I could probably have obtained it for less,” Mathieu had lamented. “I think I offered him more coin than he’s ever had in his lifetime. I’ll wager the sheep won’t see their master for a while! He may not return once he’s taken us to Cherbourg.”

  Robert hurried to Dorianne’s side when she appeared at the doorway, and helped her to the cart. Travelling this way would slow them down, but it couldn’t be helped. He introduced Dorianne to his relatives. A bolt of jealousy surged through him when both his cousins kissed her hand and showed their unbridled appreciation for her beauty.

  “I’m afraid it’s not very stylish, Dorianne,” Mathieu apologized.

  She smiled at him, sending another spark of indignation through Robert. He’d have to keep an eye on these cousins of his.

  “I’m grateful for it, Mathieu,” she replied.

  As they rode away from the Abbey, Dorianne looked up at the workmen who were hauling up another basket of slate. What was she thinking? He caught her eye and she smiled. “I pondered if there was a way to use it to escape,” she confessed.

  Robert returned the smile with a chuckle. “And I was planning how to use it to rescue you! Thank goodness it didn’t come to that. I’ve no head for heights!”

  ***

  By the time they arrived in Cherbourg a day and a half later, Dorianne was bruised and stiff. The cart had saved her derrière from further aggravation, but the journey had been bone-jarring. However, it had provided many hours in which to contemplate her situation.

  Everything had happened quickly. A short time ago she didn’t know Robert de Montbryce, now here she was en route to meet his parents in England. But he was the son of an Earl, a future Comte, and the history between their families didn’t bode well. At least Pierre had come to his senses and admitted continuing the feud was pointless. It was a miracle. She’d begun to despair of her brother’s sanity. She hoped he’d gone to confess his sin against her and been shriven of it.

  And what of her own parents? Would her father too come to see that marriage to Robert de Montbryce was not only her heart’s desire, but also good for their family? She fervently hoped so and resolved to pray diligently on the matter.

  She felt safe surrounded by the Montbryce clan. What impressive men they were—tall, well-muscled, and good natured. And Robert was the handsomest. She would be a good wife to him.

  ***

  Dorianne’s happiness that they were crossing the Narrow Sea during daylight was written all over her fair face. She’d never been in a boat before and Robert could see the experience exhilarated her. The wind brought colour back into her cheeks. It lifted his heart. He wanted her to look her best when he presented her to his parents. Fortunately, her wimple would hide the damage done to her hair until it grew back. He knew it distressed her.

  He’d been a good sailor when he was a bo
y, but as he grew to adulthood the waves and the tossing often got the better of him. He tried his best not to retch in front of Dorianne, but it was a lost cause, and she ministered to him.

  “I’m sorry. Your great hero is nothing but a man who can’t control his need to retch his guts into the sea. I am my father’s son.”

  “Robert,” she soothed. “I’ve heard tell many people are unable to avoid retching when at sea. I’m happy to comfort you my love, as you’ve ministered to me this last while.”

  Hugh chuckled as his son and nephews fell victim to mal de mer. “As usual, it’s proven I’m the only true descendant of our Norse forebears.”

  As they neared the mouth of the Portus, Robert found his sea legs and was able to help with the landing. They dragged the longboat up on the shore where Mathieu announced his intention to ride to East Preston, one of his father’s manors in Sussex, since it was nearby. “I’ll join you at Melton Manor if I find all is well,” he added.

  They arrived at Melton Manor a few hours later and Robert saw his cousin’s chest swell as they entered the Manor for which he’d been named. It was a holding that had been in his mother’s Saxon family for generations. Indeed, Devona’s ancestors had built the imposing house atop its craggy cliff overlooking the sea.

  All Montbryces were well versed in the oft told tale of the secret passageway from the house to the beach below. Dorianne was intrigued when Robert told her the story.

  “Can we explore it?” she asked.

  Hugh laughed. “You wouldn’t want to, Dorianne. It may sound intriguing, but it was dark and smelly and dangerous when I was in it more than twenty years ago.”

  Melton had overheard and offered to show Dorianne how the secret doorway opened, but wouldn’t take her into the passageway.

  Again Robert chided himself for the jealous feelings this offer fostered in him.

  The sooner I marry this woman, the better I’ll feel!

  ***

  Two days later they were underway, bound for Ellesmere. They made good progress. It was a route Robert had travelled many times.

  “How will you parents receive me?” Dorianne asked.

  He shifted in the saddle and thought on his answer for a while. She fidgeted with the reins. After several minutes he replied. “They’ll be shocked, I can’t deny it, Dorianne. But my parents are somewhat—unusual.”

  She furrowed her brow. “Unusual?”

  Robert smiled. “Oui. They believe in the power of love.”

  Dorianne was silent for a while and then ventured, “I have no experience to which I can attach your statement. Indeed I’ve heard my father say some churchmen preach that noblemen who profess love for their wives are committing adultery. I don’t understand. They love each other?”

  “Oui! Sûrement. Definitely, and they love me and my brother, Baudoin, my sister, Rhoni and my half brother, Caedmon. Don’t worry. It’s a lot to digest. You’ll see when you meet them.”

  Dorianne’s eyes widened. “Can there exist a family where love rules instead of hate? Will they love me as they love you?”

  Robert laughed, leaned over and pecked a kiss on her forehead, his heart touched by her yearning to be loved. “They’ll adore you, as I do.”

  Her eyes betrayed her fatigue. The journey was tiring her. He decided to send messengers ahead to warn of his arrival and to let the castle at Ellesmere know he was travelling with a Norman noblewoman who should be treated as an honoured guest, but who might need care.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Mabelle was agog. “He’s bringing a prospective bride, Ram. I know it. Why else would he bring a Norman noblewoman here? Antoine intimated Robert was detained by matters of the heart. I can’t wait to meet her. But why does he say she needs care? She must be ill.”

  “Be calm, Mabelle,” Ram replied. “Don’t get too excited. Let’s wait and see. He’s coming primarily to bring us news of the Grand Council.”

  Days later Robert and an exhausted Dorianne arrived with their escort. Martin Bonhomme took charge of delivering the Norman woman to the chambers prepared for her. Robert went immediately to see his parents awaiting him in the Map Room with Baudoin, Caedmon and Rhoni. His brothers greeted him, then he embraced his sister. “Rhoni, little Welsh woman, you grow more beautiful every time I see you.”

  She smiled. “You’re a tease Robert, but I love you for it.”

  “Robert, mon fils,” his father embraced him. “I’m always relieved to see you arrive safely. It’s not an easy journey. How fares your travelling companion?”

  “She’s well, all things considered,” he replied vaguely. “Perhaps we can talk about her later. We must discuss the situation in Normandie. Antoine told you most of what transpired?”

  His mother sensed his nervousness. Why had Antoine come in his stead? There was something he didn’t want to reveal, but eventually he would disclose it.

  For the next two hours they discussed the arguments and counter arguments expressed at the Council. Robert confided he hadn’t wanted to support Henry, but now thought better of it. “I’ve committed our resources and our men to Henry, in accordance with your wishes, Papa,” he said confidently.

  Ram shrugged. “I wish I felt as sure of Henry’s success as you apparently do.”

  Mabelle huffed impatiently. “Now, Robert, what of this noblewoman who has accompanied you? What role is she to play?” she asked.

  Robert’s jaw clenched. “She’s to play the role of my wife, maman.”

  Mabelle clasped her hands to her mouth and a squealing sound emerged. “Robert! I’m overjoyed—but you don’t seem to be. I sense a difficulty.”

  Robert kept silent for a few minutes. He stood, walked over to his mother and took both her hands in his. He went down on one knee in front of her and looked into her eyes.

  “Maman, you know I would never do anything to hurt you or Papa. You can trust what I’m going to tell you isn’t said with any hurtful intent, nor with malice.”

  Mabelle could hear her heart beating in her ears as her son spoke. From the desperate look in his eyes, whatever response she gave would affect all their lives. She braced herself, but was completely taken aback when he said calmly, “My betrothed’s name is Dorianne de Giroux.”

  She hoped Robert hadn’t seen the flicker of horror in her eyes.

  “I know I have no right to ask this of you, I know it will hurt you, but don’t I have as much right as you to hate the Giroux family? I love Dorianne and want her to bear my children, your grandchildren.”

  No one spoke. Rhoni seemed to be studying the elaborately tiled floor. Baudoin’s voice broke the silence. “Robert, you’ve always been a brother I’ve been proud to look up to, to respect. I’ve never known you to make a decision that wasn’t in the best interests of our family. We’ve endured many challenges together. This is another, as is the coming war. I haven’t met Dorianne, but I know you wouldn’t propose marriage to a woman who would harm us as a family. This must have been a hard choice to make.”

  Mabelle saw the relief on Robert’s face as he embraced his brother. It brought tears to her eyes. Once more Baudoin, the taciturn son, had surprised everyone with his perception and forthrightness. She looked at Robert and struggled to control her voice. “We’ll face this together, Robert. I would meet this extraordinary young woman who has overcome your feelings about the family that has done ours much harm in the past.”

  “I’ll bring her to the gallery, maman,” Robert said, rising to his feet and letting go of his mother’s trembling hand.

  As soon as Robert left, Ram moved to embrace Mabelle. She rested her head on his shoulder. “I’ve faced many challenges in my life with you, Ram, but this is one that might defeat me. When I look at the girl I’ll be reminded of the miserable years I spent with my father, and of the horror of Phillippe de Giroux.”

  He cradled her in his arms and rocked her. “And yet, Mabelle, you can look at Caedmon and not be reminded of my infidelity.”

  Rhoni spoke up. “W
hat’s the alternative, Maman? Will we reject her? If we do, we reject Robert and the choice he has made. He’s my brother. I won’t reject him.”

  ***

  A short time later, Robert entered with a very nervous Dorianne. She was still experiencing some lingering discomfort. Nevertheless, she determined to present a good impression as she met her beloved’s parents for the first time. They would see she was the well brought up daughter of a Norman baron. Robert held her hand tightly and introduced her.

  “Papa, maman, Baudoin, Caedmon, Rhoni, please welcome to our home my betrothed, Dorianne de Giroux.”

  Turning to Dorianne he continued. “Dorianne, I present to you my father and mother, the Earl and Countess of Ellesmere, Ram and Mabelle de Montbryce, and my brothers, Baudoin and Caedmon, and my dear sister, Hylda Rhonwen. We call her Rhoni.”

  Dorianne was struck immediately by the striking resemblance the four men shared. This was where Robert had inherited his dark good looks. She sensed hostility, especially from Robert’s mother, the woman whose father had begun the terrible feud.

  Hoping her pain and exhaustion weren’t apparent, she curtseyed deeply and bowed her head. “Milord Earl and Countess, I thank you for welcoming me to your home.”

  Ram took Dorianne’s hand and said formally, “Welcome to Ellesmere, Lady Dorianne.”

  As Dorianne attempted to rise, the blood rushed to her head. She swayed as the room swam around her. Ram took hold of her elbow and helped her to a chair. She flinched as she sat down heavily.

  Mabelle rushed over. “What is it, my dear?” she asked with genuine concern.

  Robert moved quickly to help Dorianne stand, and she recovered her equilibrium, horrified at what had happened. “Dorianne was harmed,” he said grimly.

  “Harmed?” Ram exclaimed. “By whom?”

  Dorianne knew Robert had no choice. The look in his eyes said he would have to explain. “Her brother, Pierre. She didn’t want me to tell you. He whipped her. It brought on a fever.”