Danburgh Castle (3 page)

When the Lord and his fiancée were at home, the serving-woman brought Emma food and tended to her needs but, aside from her visits, Emma felt that she and little Harry were forgotten completely.

Emma calculated she had not seen Lord Robert for over a fortnight and began to fear she would go mad if she didn’t escape the room of her confinement.  It was evening.  The serving-woman had not appeared.  Harry was asleep in his cot and would remain so for some time.  Emma had heard no sounds of people moving about the castle for a quarter of an hour or so.  Perhaps Lord Robert had ventured out, taking his attendants with him?

Stealthily, Emma opened the door of the nursery and slipped through it onto the small landing outside.  She thought she was on the third floor of the castle but was unsure how many more floors were above her.  It was completely dark.  Emma knew there was a torch that usually burnt in a wall-mounted holder on the landing but tonight it had not been lit.

She had no sense of anybody being present.  If her theory was correct and she’d been left alone in the castle, the doors would surely have been secured against intruders – it would be impossible for her to escape to the courtyard.  Her only means of experiencing freedom was to climb up to the battlements.

Emma set off in the darkness, slowly mounting the spiral staircase from the landing and then climbing its seemingly endless steps.  She reached another floor level but the staircase continued up beyond this.

When she finally reached the top of the staircase, Emma, looking up, could see, through an open doorway, the black sky, lit with bright, shining stars.  She gasped as she emerged onto the castle ramparts and breathed in the fresh, salty air.  She stood bolt upright, sensing the fresh wind blowing against her body and through her hair.

Emma walked towards the parapet that ran along the seaward wall of the castle.  She felt cold but she felt alive, after the stifling heat of the nursery, constantly warmed by the great fire that burnt in the banqueting hall below.  She put her hands on the stone wall and leant forward, looking out to sea.  It was a turbulent night.  The moon was full and shone brightly in the sky.  Broken clouds raced across it, giving Emma the impression that the heavens were on the move.

Lit by the moonlight, Emma could see the white foam of the waves crashing against the rocks below and, further out, she saw the incoming waves undulating as they coursed towards the shore.  There was drama and motion all about.

Emma jumped – something stirred behind her.  She feared she would fall forward over the parapet but hands clasped her sides and pulled her back.  “Who’s there?” Emma asked nervously, unable to identify her assailant in the dark.

“Your own lord,” a man’s voice replied.

“I thought myself alone,” Emma said.

“We’re almost alone,” Lord Robert responded.  “Fiona has ventured home this evening.  My army has set forth to escort her on her journey across the border.  Only a few of my men remain below, guarding the keep.”

“Why are you on the battlements?” Emma enquired.

“I might ask the same of you,” Lord Robert replied, amused by Emma’s forwardness.

“I needed to
breathe
, my lord,” Emma said, “I wanted some air.”

“You can certainly take the air up here,” Lord Robert said, adding, “Strange, is it not, that I feel most free upon the battlements of a castle?”

Emma didn’t reply but shivered.

“But you shouldn’t remain here without a cloak, Emma.  You will catch your death.  Here, let me warm you,” and he went to enfold Emma in his own great cloak.

“No my lord,” she resisted instinctively.  “It’s wrong.”

“How wrong, Emma, if it will warm you and comfort me?”

Emma folded her arms against his embrace.

“I have lost my wife, Emma,” Lord Robert whispered, “and you have lost a husband–”

“You are betrothed to another lady,” Emma was quick to respond.

Lord Robert held onto his unyielding nurse inside the cloak.  “Negotiations are, as yet, at a very early stage.”  He lowered his voice.  “And, between you and me, Nurse Emma, I think we can safely say that the lady to whom I am now contracted is as cold as stone.”

“She is beautiful,” Emma pointed out, keeping her face turned from his, lest he should attempt to kiss her again.

“That is indeed true but what care I for beauty if a woman’s nature is cruel?”

Emma could feel Lord Robert’s breath warming her cheek as he spoke.  His arms were wrapped about her own, still stubbornly folded, beneath the cloak.

“My marriage to Fiona has been proposed by her father to strengthen our control of these lands.  From my point of view, the match is politically desirable.  True, she is a beautiful woman, but she doesn’t care for me – she holds me in contempt.  If the marriage is granted, it will not be a loving one; I know that already–”

“Then you ought not to marry her, sir–” Emma commented instinctively.  She stopped herself – outspokenness was a trait she’d inherited from her grandfather.  It led to trouble.

“A man in my position has responsibilities, Emma.  It is my duty to the King to stabilise these lands; it is my duty to your people, Emma, to try to keep the peace.”

Beneath the cloak, Lord Robert’s left hand had strayed down to rest upon her side.  His right hand had cleaved its way underneath her folded arms and was currently held close to her breast.

“I am just a man, Emma…” Lord Robert said meaningfully.

“
Robert!
” called a voice from below.

Emma was released from the firm hold.  Her body once again felt the chill of the winds, as the heavy cloak was drawn back from her.

“
Robert!
” came the voice again, louder and clearer.

Lord Robert arrayed his cloak and turned away from Emma.

Emma stood, her head spinning, her legs weak, facing the sea and looking up at the stars.

The lady Fiona emerged onto the ramparts.  “What are you doing up here?” was the suspicious greeting she offered her future husband.

“I came to fly the falcon,” Lord Robert replied innocently.

Emma remained standing with her back to the lady.  She looked steadily out to sea as her body rocked gently in the wind.  The sea had become strangely calm now.  She hoped to go undetected.

“And who is
this
?” the lady Fiona asked accusingly.

“This is the wet nurse,” Lord Robert answered plainly.  “I do not believe you have met Emma.”  He placed his hand on Emma’s arm, turning her round to face Fiona.

Emma looked blankly upon her future mistress as she tried to control her breathing and stand still.  The lady was indeed beautiful.  In the moonlight Emma drank in the flawless fair skin and jet black hair for which she was famed.  Her gown tonight was a rich red, ornamented with elaborate patterns embroidered in gold thread and embellished with polished precious stones about the neckline.  She wore a tall, pointed headdress – a gift from Lord Robert, no doubt.  The long veil that flowed from it billowed in the wind.

“Why is she here?  Why is she not in the nursery attending to the child?” Fiona snapped violently.

“I brought her here,” Lord Robert replied.  “She has been confined to the nursery these past two weeks and was growing faint with lack of fresh air.  I brought her here to watch the falcon fly.”

“Then
where
is the falcon?” Fiona asked triumphantly.

Lord Robert turned seaward and called into the night.  He picked a glove from below the parapet and put it on his hand.  A wolfhound, which had been slumbering on sacks in the corner of the ramparts, whimpered, stirred itself and came to its master’s side.

In a moment, a peregrine falcon, with piercing eyes, came circling above the ramparts and settled on his master’s outstretched, gloved hand.

Emma’s eyes opened wide at the spectacle.

“Stay absolutely still,” Lord Robert instructed her, “he is the most sensitive of birds of prey.  The least movement will frighten him off.”

“Girl, you shall accompany me back to the nursery at once,” Fiona ordered.  “You have had quite enough
air
for one evening,” she concluded sarcastically.

Chapter 9

The lady Fiona closed the door of the nursery behind them.  Emma had walked straight over to the crib where Harry lay, sound asleep.

“I wish to make you aware, Nurse, that your services will no longer be required here.”

“I don’t understand, my lady.  I didn’t neglect little Harry – he was sleeping when I ventured up onto the ramparts–”

“Your negligence is beside the point,” Fiona stated.  “Harry is growing.  He no longer needs a wet nurse.”

“But, my lady, this is so sudden,” Emma protested, thinking of Lord Robert.

“Things change,” Fiona said, turning her back on Emma.  “Get used to it,” she added flippantly, as she opened the door.  “I bid you goodnight, Nurse,” she called coldly, without looking at Emma.  She shut the door behind her.

The lady Fiona repaired to the quarters she had already claimed as her own.  As she stood in the long window, looking out over the land, combing her long, black hair, the door to the chamber was opened by another.  She turned to see Lord Robert standing in the doorway.  “What do you want?” she asked him.

“I came to see that you are well,” he replied.

“Huh,” Fiona responded, “you care so little for me, Robert, you didn’t even think to ask why my journey was aborted–”

“I assumed you’d changed your mind–”

“Do you
really
think I would rather be here than in Scotland?”  She didn’t give him time to answer.  “And when I come looking for you on the ramparts, I catch you with your common English whore–”

“Emma is a simple, good peasant woman.  She is a caring nurse to my child – to our child.”

“Harry is no child of mine–”

“I cannot think, Fiona, that our marriage will work if you cannot look upon my son as your son.”

“I said I would provide you with a nurse.  You went against my wishes–”

“I felt obliged to help the poor woman.  She is a widow–”

“Her husband wanted you
dead!
  Her husband was a traitor.  She too is a traitor.  Why do you think I returned tonight?  The men feared we were being tracked by rebels.  We had to turn back to avoid an ambush.  Had I continued on my journey, I might have been killed.”

“I’m sorry–”

“That’s rich – all the while you were back here entertaining your
whore!
”

“I sent a retinue–”

“But you didn’t accompany me
yourself!
”

Lord Robert failed to find words to console her.  “Please don’t implicate Emma in this quarrel,” he maintained, “she’s just a nurse–”

“
Was
a nurse – I’ve discharged her–”

“Why?” Lord Robert asked.

“I suspect her.  Someone must have informed the rebels that I was to venture forth tonight.”

“Nonsense.  Emma is an honest nurse.  Her grandfather is a faithful subject.  He vouched for her ignorance of her husband’s part in the uprising–”

“You’d like to believe her innocent – you are naive.”

“Besides, Emma couldn’t possibly have informed on you.  She hasn’t left the castle since her arrival here – she’s barely left that room.”

“You may trust her.  I do not.  Anyway, Harry is grown – he has no need of a wet nurse.”

“That’s untrue, Fiona.”

“It will be true before too long.”

Lord Robert walked over to where his fiancée stood.  “But we may, perhaps, have need of a nurse in future; there may be
other
children...”

She averted her gaze from him.  “Not until we’re legally married,” Fiona insisted.  “And even then, Robert, I will only bear your children out of a sense of duty – duty to my father,
not
you.”

“Do you really detest me so much, Fiona?” Lord Robert asked desperately.

The lady Fiona turned from him and strode across the room.  “I bid you goodnight, Lord Robert,” she said with finality.

“Until tomorrow then,” he replied, defeated.

“Remember, Robert,” Fiona concluded, “it is my father who arranged this marriage; not me.”

Lord Robert began to close the door on her.

“Here’s the deal, Robert,” Fiona called after him.  “You get to keep your wet nurse so long as I can be certain her presence here doesn’t compromise my safety.”

“I don’t understand you,” Robert said, lingering in the doorway.

“If stay she must, she shall be kept under lock and key.”

Chapter 10

Emma lay in her bed of linen sheets and woven blankets, on the nursery floor.  She couldn’t sleep in the small bed provided for her, unused as she was to such comfort.  She’d taken to sleeping on the floor, which she found more suited to her and also much warmer than lying beneath the window.  The fire in the great hall below would have died out by now but the floor of the nursery was still warm from its earlier blaze.  Emma pulled up the covers about her shoulders and began to fall asleep.