Chapter 6
Rowena had fallen asleep at the edge of the bed, staring at the spot on the floor where Lord Godwine had fallen. Gilbert had removed the body himself, then left her alone with the repeated admonishment to let no one in the room but him.
She would have liked to lock him out as well. If she had had a weapon, she might even have tried to kill him then, before he forced her to even more unspeakable acts. But she had no weapon. Nor could she run away without endangering her mother’s life. She could not even say which was worse, wedding and bedding Lyons, or what Gilbert planned for her now. Nay, what could be worse to a girl only just eight and ten than bedding that lecherous old man?
She could feel not the least pity for his death, even though she might have been partwise responsible. He had likely murdered a goodly number of innocent women who had had the misfortune to be his wives, simply because he had tired of them or needed a new dowry to fill his coffers. She knew there were many unscrupulous men who did exactly that, and without the least guilt. But then she also knew there were different men, decent men, like her father. The whole world had not gone to hell, merely this small portion of it during this reign of anarchy.
It was still dark, the keep still silent, when Gilbert came back to wake her. Rowena could not guess at the time, though the exhaustion of her body and mind told her she had not slept long. But Gilbert’s first words brought her wide awake.
“All is in readiness for you. My men were fortunate in their find. The hair and eye colors were what concerned me most, to be exactly those of your husband’s, for that is what is first noticed on a babe, and those we have matched.”
Blood rushed through Rowena, hot, then cold. Her stomach muscles tightened almost to cramps in her fear. He had really done it, found a man to throw her to, just as her husband would have done if she had not conceived soon enough for him. Two of a kind, they were, Lyons and Gilbert, even in their thinking. She would not be surprised if he had found the same man, this John whom her husband would have used. God’s mercy, why would this nightmare not end?
“Make haste,” he continued briskly as he pulled her off the high bed. “There are many hours before dawn, yet you will need ample time with the man, to couple more than once to assure his seed is well planted.”
“Why tell me?” Rowena snapped, trying to jerk her arm out of his hold as he rushed her toward the open door. “Give your vile instructions to the stud you have found.”
“You will see,” was all he said.
And she did see, almost immediately, for the man had been put in the small chamber directly across from hers. It contained a bed and two tall candle holders set on either side of it, but no other furnishings. It had been the room that her husband had used for his debaucheries with the female serfs under his rule, though Rowena did not know this. There were even chains attached to the wall above the bed, just out of sight below the mattress, though these were not used on the man, for he was too big. Gilbert had worried he might break those puny chains that had been made for females, and so had ordered long ones brought and strung under the bed, attaching wrist to ankle in this way so the prisoner could not move one limb without pulling on another.
All Rowena noticed was that the man was there, tied down to the bed, with no more than a large bath sheet draped over his bare loins. Tied down? Nay, she noticed now the iron cuffs at his wrists, which lay above his head. And two chains came out from under the bath sheet at the end of the bed to curve down under it.Chaineddown! He had to be chained down? And he was asleep—or senseless.
Understanding came easily enough, but all she could think to say was, “Why did you not just pay him to do the deed?”
Gilbert stood next to her at the end of the bed, still holding her arm. “Then he would take you. I give him to you to take instead, so you will not feel…”
He hesitated over the word long enough that she supplied it. “Raped?”
He flushed. “Nay. I merely thought to leave you to see to the matter in your own way. You would have given up your maidenhead this night either way.”
She realized he felt he was doing her a favor. She did not see it as such, for in her mind, this was wrong. Tying the man down and forcing him to participate was even more wrong. But Gilbert saw things only one way, the way of gain and profit for himself. Without a child to inherit Godwine Lyons’ estate, everything would go to Lyons’ brother, including the large army of mercenaries that Gilbert desperately needed. Her stepbrother could make use of that army in the few weeks he meant to conceal Lyons’ death, but a few weeks would not be enough to gain back all he had lost to Fulkhurst.
Damn that warmonger to hell, who was as bad as, if not worse than, Gilbert. If not for him, she would not be forced to go through with this. If not for him, she would not have been forced to wed in the first place.
Having mentioned her maidenhead, Gilbert must have recalled that she was, in fact, merely a maiden. “Do you, ah, do you know what to do? If not, I will fetch someone to assist you. I would do so myself, but I do not think I can bear to…”
She looked at him in amazement when he did not finish speaking. “You yourself find this distasteful, yet you would still force me to do it?”
“It must be done,” he replied, tight-lipped. “There is no other way to secure Kirkburough.”
That he seemed now not to like it any better than she gave her hope. “You will lie about the old man’s death,” she reminded him. “You could lie about a child, too, long enough to use his armies.”
“And when no child is produced of the lie? Nay, this is a rich fief, the town a large one. I will not lose it because of your squeamishness. You will do as I have commanded you, Rowena. I have put him close so no one will see you come here each night. During the day you may sleep, for I will put it about that Godwine has taken ill and you nurse him, as is only proper. The servants will be kept away except for your own maid, who I trust will do as you instruct—if you wish to keep her.”
More threats? Mildred expendable, too? God, how she hated him!
“How long, Gilbert?”
He knew exactly what she asked. “Until you conceive. Do you find it so distasteful, I would suggest you avail yourself of his rod more than once each night. Aye, two and three times each night would not be difficult for this virile lout to manage, and would the sooner see the thing accomplished.”
So the nightmare was not even to end with this night, but go on and on? And now it had become someone else’s nightmare as well, this poor man whose misfortune it was to have gold hair and gray eyes.
“You mean to keep him like this the whole time?”
“You need not concern yourself with him,” he answered carelessly. “He is no more than a serf, and will be disposed of when his usefulness is finished.”
“A serf?” At first glance she had seen the man was large, but now she looked at his length again and could see his feet at the end of the bed, his head far up at the other end. “He is too big to be a serf. What have you done, Gilbert, stolen a freeman?”
