glance.
“Oh, I’m sorry I was riding too fast for you, Grandmother.”
“That’s not what I meant, and well you know it. You took off as if the Devil was after you because you don’t have permission for this little jaunt, do you?”
“Estelle, whatever makes you think such a thing?” she asked.
“De Burgh wouldn’t let you travel with only one escort, and he certainly wouldn’t have chosen a handsome youth like David to take you gallavanting across the country. He’s like a dog with a bone.”
“Estelle, I swear to you I asked his permission to go to Cirencester.”
Dame Winwood let out a raucous laugh. “And he said
no
, didn’t he? If you think he will release you because you lead him a merry chase you think wrong. Such a one as that would follow you to the ends of the earth.”
By this time David had had a chance to gather his wits, and he had come to the same conclusions as Dame Winwood. However, he was caught between the kettle and the coals. He couldn’t make her return to Salisbury and he couldn’t abandon the ladies, ergo he must carry on with this journey and pray that nothing untoward befell his charges. Already the sweat trickled down his back at the thought of what de Burgh would do when he discovered her gone and caught up with them.
By the time they reached Marlborough on the great Roman road that ran east-west from London to Bristol, the sun had begun to set. Estelle, practical as always, decided they could go no farther. This main road had inns for those who traveled, and while they waited outside,she sent David in to secure them a room. They had no money, so it would have to be procured on the strength of the Salisbury name.
The common room at the White Boar was filled with smoke, tempting aromas of food and ale, and a motley collection of merchants, mercenaries, men of the cloth, and thieves. David, desperate to find the ladies safe shelter for the night, was a trifle loud in identifying his party. Wishing to impress the landlord with the status of his charge, he called, “The Earl of Salisbury’s daughter wishes shelter for the night.” He certainly gained the innkeeper’s attention, but unfortunately every other ear in the place was pricked, most out of sheer curiosity, but some out of pure greed. One man took a swift look at the women as they entered and slunk off to make himself a profit. He made straight for Hagthorn Castle where the notoriously cruel and rapacious Roger de Belamé often paid for information that would give him an advantage in acquiring more of this world’s goods than he had been allotted.
At first the guard on the gate refused him entrance because he knew the uncertainty of Belamé’s temper when disturbed at his dinner, but the fellow was adamant. When he divulged the Salisbury name, the guard bade him wait at the entrance to the dining hall and made his Way to the dais. A pang of resentment stabbed him as he saw his fellows were well into their wine cups while he had the misfortune of standing guard tonight. “’T is Ravener, milord, with some tale of Salisbury’s daughter staying at the White Boar. He’s likely mistaken. What would she be doin’ in these parts?”
De Belamé put down his goblet and wiped his beard with his sleeve. The workings of his mind were devious. “’T is possible. She could be on her way to Castlecombe to do the yearly tally. Tell Ravener I’ll have a word with him.”
Ravener’s thirst grew apace as he wended through the hall.
“How do you know it’s Salisbury’s daughter?” Belamé demanded.
“Her escort demanded a room for her. Said plain as plain it were fer the Earl of Salisbury’s daughter.”
“How many retainers?” Belamé asked.
“Only two … a man and a woman.”
Belamé looked satisfied. “You did well to bring the information. Help yourself to some wine for your trouble.”
Ravener blinked rapidly, getting up his courage to protest. “Milord, I was hoping for coin. I could have flogged
“Oh, I’m sorry I was riding too fast for you, Grandmother.”
“That’s not what I meant, and well you know it. You took off as if the Devil was after you because you don’t have permission for this little jaunt, do you?”
“Estelle, whatever makes you think such a thing?” she asked.
“De Burgh wouldn’t let you travel with only one escort, and he certainly wouldn’t have chosen a handsome youth like David to take you gallavanting across the country. He’s like a dog with a bone.”
“Estelle, I swear to you I asked his permission to go to Cirencester.”
Dame Winwood let out a raucous laugh. “And he said
no
, didn’t he? If you think he will release you because you lead him a merry chase you think wrong. Such a one as that would follow you to the ends of the earth.”
By this time David had had a chance to gather his wits, and he had come to the same conclusions as Dame Winwood. However, he was caught between the kettle and the coals. He couldn’t make her return to Salisbury and he couldn’t abandon the ladies, ergo he must carry on with this journey and pray that nothing untoward befell his charges. Already the sweat trickled down his back at the thought of what de Burgh would do when he discovered her gone and caught up with them.
By the time they reached Marlborough on the great Roman road that ran east-west from London to Bristol, the sun had begun to set. Estelle, practical as always, decided they could go no farther. This main road had inns for those who traveled, and while they waited outside,she sent David in to secure them a room. They had no money, so it would have to be procured on the strength of the Salisbury name.
The common room at the White Boar was filled with smoke, tempting aromas of food and ale, and a motley collection of merchants, mercenaries, men of the cloth, and thieves. David, desperate to find the ladies safe shelter for the night, was a trifle loud in identifying his party. Wishing to impress the landlord with the status of his charge, he called, “The Earl of Salisbury’s daughter wishes shelter for the night.” He certainly gained the innkeeper’s attention, but unfortunately every other ear in the place was pricked, most out of sheer curiosity, but some out of pure greed. One man took a swift look at the women as they entered and slunk off to make himself a profit. He made straight for Hagthorn Castle where the notoriously cruel and rapacious Roger de Belamé often paid for information that would give him an advantage in acquiring more of this world’s goods than he had been allotted.
At first the guard on the gate refused him entrance because he knew the uncertainty of Belamé’s temper when disturbed at his dinner, but the fellow was adamant. When he divulged the Salisbury name, the guard bade him wait at the entrance to the dining hall and made his Way to the dais. A pang of resentment stabbed him as he saw his fellows were well into their wine cups while he had the misfortune of standing guard tonight. “’T is Ravener, milord, with some tale of Salisbury’s daughter staying at the White Boar. He’s likely mistaken. What would she be doin’ in these parts?”
De Belamé put down his goblet and wiped his beard with his sleeve. The workings of his mind were devious. “’T is possible. She could be on her way to Castlecombe to do the yearly tally. Tell Ravener I’ll have a word with him.”
Ravener’s thirst grew apace as he wended through the hall.
“How do you know it’s Salisbury’s daughter?” Belamé demanded.
“Her escort demanded a room for her. Said plain as plain it were fer the Earl of Salisbury’s daughter.”
“How many retainers?” Belamé asked.
“Only two … a man and a woman.”
Belamé looked satisfied. “You did well to bring the information. Help yourself to some wine for your trouble.”
Ravener blinked rapidly, getting up his courage to protest. “Milord, I was hoping for coin. I could have flogged
Similar Books
