Her Banished Lord

She hit the horse’s flank, the horseman’s leg. Glimpsed red cross-gartering. Another wave tried to drown her. Blindly, she groped for a well-muscled calf and hooked her fingers into his cross-gartering.

‘Hold hard!’

A madman, clearly. Why else would he be commanding her to do the obvious? More water found its way into Aude’s lungs and a fit of coughing took her as he turned the horse and she was dragged ignominiously towards the river bank like so much wet washing.

On dry land, she let go and fell on her knees. Someone was talking. Aude couldn’t make out the words; it sounded as though bees were buzzing. Blackness was swirling at the edges of her vision, exactly as, moments ago, the water had swirled about her. She retched and retched again. Warm hands were on her shoulders, supporting her. He was sweeping her hair back to keep it clear of her face. Her chest ached.

‘That’s right, Aude,’ her rescuer said. ‘Get it out. All of it.’

Aude? More retching. Her stomach burned. And still he was holding her.

‘Better?’

Nodding, Aude sat back down, panting. She looked into his face.

‘Hugh!’

Hugh Duclair’s stormy blue eyes were anxious and his thumbs were making tiny caressing movements on her shoulders, but even as she watched the anxiety faded. He released her and shifted away. ‘Ma dame, I do not think you know me.’

‘Oh, yes, I do, I—’

‘Ma dame, your brother has forbidden you to acknowledge me.’

She gripped the frayed edge of his sleeve. It was that or reach for Hugh’s hand and the look in his eyes warned her that such a gesture would not be welcome. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Hugh, you saved me! Besides, you proved you know me when you called me by name.’

Sighing, Hugh sat down on the bank beside her. He was almost as out of breath as she was. Someone else was riding up, a young man with another horse on a leading rein. His squire, Gil—Aude recognised him from last year. She flung a weak smile at him. Thank God, not all Hugh Duclair’s friends had deserted him.

‘In any case, I thank you,’ she said, as another fit of coughing overcame her. She put a hand to her throat, she felt hoarse. ‘I was never…never so glad to see anyone in my life.’

Hugh grinned and for a moment his face transformed and he was his old self. A handsome Viking of a man who was her brother’s closest friend; a man who was—thank goodness—utterly oblivious of the fact that while Aude had been a girl, she had put him at the centre of many a romantic dream.

‘No, my lady, I should be thanking you.’

Still panting, Aude shoved her hair back. ‘Me?’

Hugh’s sun-gilded head nodded in the direction of the port. ‘That was my sister in the barge back there.’

‘Your sister?’ Aude had heard of Louise, naturally, though she had never met her.

‘Yes, indeed. My one and only little sister.’ Hugh put his hand on his heart and his eyes held hers. He was regarding her so warmly that the heat rushed back into her cheeks and for a moment she could not look away. ‘Aude, I owe you more than I can say. My sister is—’

‘Hugh! Hugh!’

‘Gil?’

‘Some monks and a couple of the Abbot’s knights are heading this way.’

‘Merde, they cannot be allowed to delay us.’

Aude could practically see Hugh’s cares fall back on his shoulders: banished with time running out on him; concern for his sister; the loss of his baggage on that barge…

He pushed to his feet, and Aude found herself staring at a pair of strong male legs. His boots squelched.

‘I got you wet, Hugh, I am sorry.’ There was a cold lump under Aude’s breastbone. There was so much she longed to discuss with him, she wanted to wish him well…

But already Hugh was moving away. ‘It is of no matter,’ he said. ‘You have my eternal thanks. The good brothers will see to your welfare while I go and find Louise. And, Aude, if they should ask, remember that it is best that you do not know me.’ He gave her a brief bow, and in a couple of heartbeats he and Gil had gone.

Aude was sitting alone on the ravaged foreshore when the monks arrived to exclaim over her and offer her their assistance.

‘Haven’t you had enough of the river today, my lady?’ Edwige asked, curling her lip as she edged round a stinking tangle of fish nets. The wave had strung much debris along the river path and the two women were carefully making their way upstream, towards the concealed inlet.

‘Believe me, I have, but we won’t be long.’

Aude had bathed and washed the salt and mud from her hair and put on a dry gown and veil. ‘As soon as we have reassured ourselves that our property is still on that barge, we shall return to the Abbey.’

On the foreshore, some boys were hauling a halfsunk rowboat out of the river, scraping and bumping it across the stones as they dragged it in. With a grunt and a heave they tipped it on its side and the water poured out. Where was Hugh now? Had he found his sister? How was he going to prove his loyalty to the Duke?

Edwige touched her arm. ‘Where did you say this barge is?’

‘A little further on the left, there’s a backwater and…there!’ Aude pointed at a mooring in the shade of an overhanging alder. The barge looked intact. ‘See, it is exactly as I left it! I hoped it would be, tied up out of the way as it is. Come along, Edwige, stop dawdling. Don’t you want to see for yourself that your trunk is safe?’

It wouldn’t have been the end of the world for Aude and Edwige to have lost their belongings; everything they were taking to England could easily have been replaced. Which likely could not be said for Hugh Duclair. Hugh had lost so much when he had lost Duke William’s trust. His lands and his revenues had been confiscated, and today the river had snatched what little remained. When the money in his purse ran out, he would have nothing. What must that feel like?

‘What’s he doing here?’ Edwige’s sharp whisper cut into Aude’s thoughts. ‘Is he following us?’

Aude glanced back. A masculine figure in a threadbare grey tunic was striding purposefully after them. She went very still. Hugh.

The soon-to-be exiled Count de Freyncourt was rolling down his sleeves as he came and when he reached within a couple of feet of her, he bowed his head in that slightly ironic way he had. ‘My lady.’ Aude had the fleeting impression that he was pleased to see her again; she was certainly glad to see him.

‘Hugh, was Louise all right?’

‘Perfectly, thank you. Gil is looking after her.’

So tall. And when the sunlight gilds the tips of his hair, he really does look like Lucifer. Her eyes fell on the fraying sleeves of his grey tunic. A beautiful, albeit rather shabby Lucifer…

‘I should not really be speaking to you, my brother will disapprove.’ Aude softened her words with a smile.

She really did not understand it, but truly it was impossible not to smile when Hugh looked down at her like that. His eyes were soft and unguarded, as they had been before his banishment. His mouth had gone up at the corner, exactly as it used to when laughter between them was but a breath away. Aude was beginning to think that one could not help but smile whenever Hugh did. His coldness when she had first seen him on that barge that morning had been particularly distressing.

Hugh Duclair seemed to have a strange effect on her these days. She felt fluttery when he was close by, most unlike her usual calm self. It had not always been so; when they were younger there was only ease between them. Aude had liked him then and she liked him still. Except…well, there was that inauspicious encounter early this morning. She had heartily disliked him when he had taken it upon himself to remove her baggage from the other barge!

Hugh lifted a brow. ‘Wise man, your brother.’

His voice was dry. Deep. Surely it had not always been as deep? And his mouth—when had that begun to fascinate her? Hugh had a full lower lip which hinted at a sensual nature; his upper lip had a slight dip in the centre. On his cheeks there was the slight shadow of an incipient beard. Heavens! Why ever was she examining Hugh like this? A kiss. What would his kiss be like? It was an extraordinarily compelling thought, it would not be pushed to one side. She would enjoy Hugh’s kiss…

Jerking her gaze away, Aude stared at a tree past Hugh’s shoulder, painfully conscious that her eyes wanted to linger on his face, to study that nose, so strong and straight, to memorise the exact curve of those high cheekbones. Her eyes wanted to learn his features in a way that was new to her. It was extremely unsettling, not unpleasant exactly, but deeply unsettling.

Fond though Aude had been of Martin, she had never felt the slightest inclination to learn his features; her eyes had not wanted to linger on him. This reaction to Hugh Duclair was baffling. It must be because she was so worried about him. The future of a man with a day to get out of the Duchy and only a small purse between him and penury could only be bleak. Fortunately, Hugh did not appear to have noticed either her interest or her confusion.

Some swallows were diving low over the river. As they swooped up past the white cliffs on the opposite bank, Aude forced herself to concentrate on the patterns they were tracing in the air.

‘I would not want you to court your brother’s displeasure on my account, particularly when he is in the right,’ Hugh said softly.

Slowly, as though he were fighting himself, he touched her hand. Tingles raced up her arm.

‘Take care, Aude. The river has taken a bite out of the path here, you and Edwige must watch your step.’

Sure enough, a section of the bank had broken away.

Hugh flashed a grin at her, revealing strong white teeth. ‘Wouldn’t want you falling in twice in a day. Aude, my banishment is not effective till midnight, so I think you may safely allow me to escort you one last time. In any case, there is no one else about.’ He offered her his arm. ‘Edouard need never know. If you manage to remain silent, you may truthfully tell him that you only spoke to me when absolutely necessary.’

Chapter Four

Hugh lifted an eyebrow, daring her to follow his lead.

If you manage to remain silent.

The wretch, he was needling her!

‘There must be more of the devil in me than I had thought,’ Aude murmured, laying her fingers on the worn grey sleeve without the slightest hesitation. ‘For this afternoon the thought of disobeying Edouard is most attractive.’

Hugh’s eyes lit up. ‘I am relieved to hear it.’

The path narrowed as they entered the shadowy inlet. Branches brushed Aude’s clothes, clear sunlight became dappled. Aude was conscious of Edwige following a couple of paces behind, listening with avid curiosity to their every word.

‘I am also glad to see you are fully recovered from your…swim earlier,’ he added softly.

‘Yes.’ Like Hugh, Aude responded quietly. It had the effect of making this, a walk by the river in full day, feel oddly clandestine. ‘And your sister—I take it you found her without any difficulty and that she really is fully recovered?’

‘Yes, thank you, Louise is well.’ He glanced pointedly at the river. ‘Aude, why have you chosen to walk this way? Wouldn’t a ride along the inland pathways be more congenial after this morning?’

‘Indeed, but after you tossed my baggage off that ship…’ She scowled at him, caught the tail end of an unrepentant grin, and continued. ‘I took your advice, Hugh, and found another.’ She gestured at the barge moored to its post in the riverbank. Leaves rustled overhead.

They stared at the barge.

Something flickered in Hugh’s eyes and he looked sharply away. ‘I am sorry about that, Aude.’ His voice had an odd inflection to it.

‘Don’t give it a thought. In truth you did me a favour, for the wave did not penetrate the inlet. This ship and my baggage are quite safe.’

Blue-grey eyes travelled the length of the ship, from the snarling wolf carved on the swooping prow, to the finial on its rounded stern. They were more than a little troubled. ‘It is small for a river barge,’ he commented.

‘It is one of the smallest, but my travelling chests are safe.’

A sun-burned hand came to rest on hers. ‘I am glad my advice meant you didn’t lose anything.’ 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 Hugh and Edouard had arrived to join the mustering troops they had found her clad in boy’s clothing—a short tunic and cross-gartered hose. Her cheeks warmed as she remembered. She had only been thirteen, of course, but…

‘Aude?’ Gently Hugh removed her finger from her mouth.

‘Mmm?’

‘Is something wrong?’

‘No. No, not at all.’

In truth, far from appearing shocked at the sight of her, Hugh had been kindness itself in Dives. He had taken the trouble to endorse her childish wish to become Countess of Beaumont, even going so far as to encourage Edouard to arrange for her betrothal to Count Martin. Hugh had not mentioned her clothing, but she had sensed his disapproval.

Had what happened that year affected the way Hugh thought of her?

Aude’s pulse jumped. It could be her imagination, but it seemed to her that the liking she and Hugh had always felt for each other might be changing. Another surreptitious glance revealed him to be studying her, running his gaze up and down her body.

Her pulse began to do more than jump, it began to race.

Did Hugh like her looks now she had grown into a woman? Another brief glance confirmed that he did. Hugh Duclair was drawn to her. Some of the worry had left his expression, his eyes were watching her warmly. The careful way that he had handed her into this barge told her that he respected her, while his gaze told her that he liked her looks. For her part, Aude liked him, far better than Sir Olivier, for example. And as for Hugh’s form…She sighed. The image of that lithe, half-naked body tossing her belongings about the docks was only too easy to recall.

It was a pity Hugh was leaving under such a cloud, she could do with a friend who liked her for herself, and even though her brother had forbidden her to speak to him, she yearned for his friendship. This man attracted her in many ways. She stole another look at him. Wide shoulders, strong limbs, upright posture…

Hugh was noble by birth and noble in his bearing and nothing, not even banishment, would take that away from him. Perhaps it would not take him long to prove he was innocent of the charges against him.

She felt adrift. She must be realistic. There were many reasons why Hugh was out of bounds to her and, given his banishment, it was impossible that their childish friendship would survive, never mind grow. From midnight tonight he should not even be in the Duchy. Anyone caught helping him after then would be in serious trouble.

After midnight, anyone associating with Hugh Duclair could be brought to court to answer charges of aiding and abetting a traitor. At best they risked disgrace, at worst, execution. Aude’s relationship with Hugh might have been a bright thread running through her life, but she must resign herself to the loss of it. Much as she might wish otherwise, their childish friendship was over.

She would never kiss him.

Holding down a sigh, she moved to the ship’s handrail. ‘You will stay out of Normandy?’ Knowing Hugh, he would fight like a demon for his reinstatement. ‘I don’t want you to get yourself killed; if you come back to the Duchy, your fate will be uncertain.’

‘I will do what I must. As well as clearing my name, there is a matter of some family silver which has gone missing. And in order to regain my lands I will have to take the kiss of peace from King William in person.’ His mouth twisted. ‘Given that our Duke has been neglecting his Norman territories in favour of his English kingdom, I may have to travel to England for that.’