Lord Of Lyonsbridge

Ellen laughed. “Nay. But I’m accustomed to doing as I please.”

Connor smiled. “Now that I believe, but I’d urge caution upon you. If you don’t think of yourself, think of the public weal. If aught happened to you, I trow your father would turn this land into a battleground.”

Her expression sobered, and she didn’t answer for a moment. Finally she said with a little pout, “’Tis vexing to be a woman.”

They’d walked out of the stable and both blinked at the sunlight. “Begging milady’s pardon,” Connor said, “but ‘tis not vexing to the rest of us.”

His sweeping glance over the length of her left no doubt as to the meaning of his comment. It was bolder than should have been allowed, but Ellen did not seem upset. In fact, her cheekbones tinged a sudden pink.

“Sir William says that order has been brought to Lyonsbridge,” Ellen said, ignoring Connor’s remark

Connor stiffened. “There’s a kind of order, aye. But that doesn’t mean you should be tempting the devil by giving him opportunity for mischief.”

“In Normandy they do say that the devil walks about here in England,” she said with an impish grin.

“You shouldn’t be tempting the devil nor anyone else,” Connor admonished, remaining serious. “If you’ve no escort today, I’ll take you to the cooper’s myself.”

He hadn’t intended to say any such thing, and the sudden light in her eyes at his offer set off danger signals deep in his head. As he’d told his brother, the lady Ellen had him muddled. The last thing he needed was more time in her company. But, he told himself as he quickly saddled Thunder, it would be worse if she ran into trouble her first week at Lyonsbridge. If she was so foolish as to travel abroad without a protector, he’d have to see to it that nothing untoward occurred.

It was his duty, he continued to assure himself as they set off together on the road to the village. When he had seen her safely back to the castle, he’d ride to find Martin and insist that the friar call on Lady Ellen and her cousin to explain that she needed to have an escort at all times.

He would ride with her just this once, admiring how well she sat her horse, how straight were the shapely lines of her back. He would ride with her just this one day.

Ellen couldn’t remember when she’d been so utterly conscious of another person. When he moved, making the leather of his saddle creak, her ears perked as if he had shouted. When he looked at her, his bronzed skin crinkling at the corners of his eyes as he squinted from the sun, the glance felt like a touch of his hand.

It was a glorious day, mild and sunny, yet she couldn’t relax and enjoy her communion with her horse and the road as she was wont. Instead she sat stiffly, waiting for him. to speak, wondering if she should say something first.

As the silence stretched past the point of comfort, in the same instant they both spoke at once.

“Milady—”

“Master Brand—”

Then they laughed together and each sat a little looser in the saddle. “The lady speaks first,” Connor said.

“I was just going to ask you about the family—the Coopers. You said the father is dead?”

“Aye. Killed in one of the last skirmishes before the peace.”

“He was killed by Normans, then?”

“Aye, leaving two children and a widow with child—children, as it turned out, for she gave birth to twins.”

Ellen was silent for a long moment, then said quietly, “Twins! She was left with four little ones, then, and the people here have long memories.”

“You can’t ask people to forget their loved ones, milady, their husbands and brothers and fathers.”

His face had hardened, and Ellen was suddenly sorry she had brought up the topic of the cooper. “Of course not,” she agreed quickly. “But I daresay there are wives and mothers aplenty mourning their menfolk back in Normandy. That’s why we must all be glad the peace is finally here and endeavor to keep it.”

“Amen to that,” he answered, and fell silent. But a pall had been cast over the bright day.

Chapter Four (#ulink_f75d4c21-a9a6-550a-8928-1fe262c425be)

The village that had grown up around Lyonsbridge Castle was still crude, especially by Norman standards. For someone who had spent much of the previous two years at the court of King Louis in Paris, the primitive conditions of England were barely tolerable. In dismay she looked up and down the dirt path that ran past the rough homes.

“The Coopers live at the far end of town, near the abbey,” Connor said, slowing his horse. He appeared to notice her reaction. “In spite of your faith in the benefits of the Norman occupation, up to now the war has brought little but hardship to these people.”

Ellen remained silent and let Jocelyn lag behind as the horse master’s mount picked its way along the street. Strangely, though it was midday, there was no one about. Just ahead, a shutter banged, and she thought she saw a head duck inside.

“Where is everyone?” she asked finally.

Connor smiled. “At their windows, I suspect. Watching us through whatever crack they may find.”

“But why don’t they meet us openly? I’d greet them if they’d show themselves.”

“I’m afraid the people of Lyonsbridge have learned that it’s safer to stay out of the way of their Norman masters.”

Ellen remembered the girl Sarah’s words of yesterday about the threat to whip her mother. It was time to get to the bottom of this. “Why are they afraid of us?” she asked directly.

Connor pulled his mount to a halt and looked at her, surprised. “You yourself said you could not blame them for keeping the memories of husbands and sons killed.”

“But the conflict is now well past.” There was a rustling behind the straw door of the house where they’d stopped. Ellen looked toward it expectantly, but no one emerged.

“’Tis but a different kind of conflict, milady. Is the ant not afraid of the boot even though it is left to scurry about at will?”

Once again it occurred to Ellen that the man talked more like a courtier than a peasant. Her curiosity about him grew with each encounter.

“I’d not like to think that my people live in fear of being crushed like ants. ‘Tis a situation we must mend.”

Connor seemed about to offer a comment, but after a long moment, he shook his head and silently signaled to his horse to resume walking. “We’re almost there, milady. I daresay the Coopers will be fair astonished to have you on their doorstep.”

Ellen allowed her horse to follow. “I told Sarah yesterday that I’d be visiting.”

Though Ellen’s mother had been dead these past ten years, she vividly remembered having to accompany her on visits to the tenants on her father’s estates in Normandy. It was one of the distasteful obligations of nobility, she’d decided early on as she’d stared uncomfortably at the dirty peasant children and tried to keep her fine embroidered skirts from being soiled in their huts.

Connor stopped in front of a small cottage. Attached to one end was a pen that held a fat sow and what seemed like dozens of squealing piglets. Ellen watched the squirming creatures with a smile.

“John was too young to take over his father’s trade,” Connor said, nodding his head toward the animals. “The family has bartered piglets for their needs.”

“’Twas fortunate they were left with such a fine breeder.”

He smiled slightly. “The Normans did not leave old John Cooper’s family with a roof over their heads, much less livestock. The house and the pig were gifts from the village so the family could survive.”

Ellen turned her head to look back at the street they’d just traveled. “It doesn’t seem that these people would have anything extra to spare.”

“We take care of our own,” Connor said briefly. “We’re not totally helpless in defeat” He dismounted and tied his horse’s reins to the top rail of the pigpen.

Without waiting for his assistance, Ellen jumped to the ground, then followed his example in tying up her mount. He turned toward her, surprised. “I’m not totally helpless either, horse master,” she said smugly. She wasn’t sure exactly why, but she wanted to impress him. Unlike any other servant she’d ever known, he made her feel as if he was not only her equal, but her superior. Older, wiser and more worthy.