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Authors: Anna Markland
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rode on to East Preston, where he explained his plan to Antoine. His brother was assisting Barat Cormant with setting rat poison, under the watchful eye of Isembart Jubert, Montbryce Castle’s one-armed rat catcher.
Antoine straightened, rubbing his back. “These cursed rodents are everywhere. It will be weeks before the house can be occupied,” he lamented. “I’ll have to return to Normandie and leave Jubert to it.”
“Don’t worry, milord . No rat ever got the better of a Jubert, even one who has lost his arm in the service of his Duke,” Barat jested. “We’ll have this place put back to rights in no time.”
Jubert, a man of few words, nodded and grinned.
“Antoine, I’m sorry I’m not of much help to you at the moment, but I must do something about Melton. It’s as much my responsibility as what you’re doing here is yours. Renouf is draining Melton as well as abusing its people. Rats have to be trapped and disposed of.”
Antoine had his hands braced on his hips, stretching his back. “I know, Hugh, but I worry about the whole enterprise. It won’t be good if you fall out of favour with the King for stealing another man’s wife. You know how maniacal he can be about such matters.”
“All we intend this night is row to the cliffs to look at the cave Sir Gerwint told me about, and assess the possibility of a sea rescue.”
Antoine stopped stretching. “We?”
“I’ll take two men-at-arms to row for me.”
“You don’t need my help?”
Antoine sounded disappointed. “If you want to come—”
His brother resumed his stretching. “I’d better—just to keep an eye on you, though you know how sea sick I can be—like Ram.”
“ Oui , I do know,” Hugh laughed. “I seem to be the only member of our family with good sea legs. Hard to believe sometimes we’re descendants of the Norsemen!”
CHAPTER SEVEN
The tide had already gone out far from Kingston Gorse which obliged the four men, barefoot and clad only in shirts and leggings, to carry the rowboat to the water. They shoved it into the surf and clambered aboard. The men-at-arms, natives of St. Valery on the Normandie coast, chosen for their muscle power and seafaring knowledge, soon had the oars going in a steady rhythm.
“Reminds me of my misspent youth, milord ,” one of them jested, stowing a pack he’d borne on his back. “A clandestine excursion in a rowboat, to meet with a young maiden.”
Before long, Antoine was looking as green as his eyes, despite the fact the water was calm and there was little wind. The two oarsmen were obviously aware of his discomfort and winked at each other with a knowing grin.
Hugh saw the manor come into view. Why did it evoke such a feeling of homecoming in him? “There’s Melton,” he shouted. “Row in as close as you can. I don’t see Lady Devona yet.”
They brought the boat in closer, and Hugh caught sight of Devona halfway down the twisting staircase.
“There she is,” he cried. He was about to wave when Antoine caught his arm.
“ Attention, Hugh. There’s a man standing at the top of the steps, watching. He’s looking out towards us, probably wondering who we are and what we’re doing.”
Hugh shaded his eyes and looked up. “ Merde! It must be Torod! We can’t risk approaching closer with him there. Pull us further out. He won’t make out who we are at this distance.”
They waited interminable minutes, watching Devona on the beach.
“She must wonder why we’re not coming in,” Antoine said, wiping his mouth after another bout of retching.
Hugh gave his brother a sympathetic glance. “She’ll know. She can’t see the top of the steps, but she’ll know he’s there.”
At last, Torod seemed to grow impatient, kicked at a stone and left.
Hugh exhaled. “Good, he must think we’re simple fishermen. Pull in.”
The oarsmen put their backs into it and soon had the boat close to shore.
“Better not go right up on the beach, in case we have to
Antoine straightened, rubbing his back. “These cursed rodents are everywhere. It will be weeks before the house can be occupied,” he lamented. “I’ll have to return to Normandie and leave Jubert to it.”
“Don’t worry, milord . No rat ever got the better of a Jubert, even one who has lost his arm in the service of his Duke,” Barat jested. “We’ll have this place put back to rights in no time.”
Jubert, a man of few words, nodded and grinned.
“Antoine, I’m sorry I’m not of much help to you at the moment, but I must do something about Melton. It’s as much my responsibility as what you’re doing here is yours. Renouf is draining Melton as well as abusing its people. Rats have to be trapped and disposed of.”
Antoine had his hands braced on his hips, stretching his back. “I know, Hugh, but I worry about the whole enterprise. It won’t be good if you fall out of favour with the King for stealing another man’s wife. You know how maniacal he can be about such matters.”
“All we intend this night is row to the cliffs to look at the cave Sir Gerwint told me about, and assess the possibility of a sea rescue.”
Antoine stopped stretching. “We?”
“I’ll take two men-at-arms to row for me.”
“You don’t need my help?”
Antoine sounded disappointed. “If you want to come—”
His brother resumed his stretching. “I’d better—just to keep an eye on you, though you know how sea sick I can be—like Ram.”
“ Oui , I do know,” Hugh laughed. “I seem to be the only member of our family with good sea legs. Hard to believe sometimes we’re descendants of the Norsemen!”
CHAPTER SEVEN
The tide had already gone out far from Kingston Gorse which obliged the four men, barefoot and clad only in shirts and leggings, to carry the rowboat to the water. They shoved it into the surf and clambered aboard. The men-at-arms, natives of St. Valery on the Normandie coast, chosen for their muscle power and seafaring knowledge, soon had the oars going in a steady rhythm.
“Reminds me of my misspent youth, milord ,” one of them jested, stowing a pack he’d borne on his back. “A clandestine excursion in a rowboat, to meet with a young maiden.”
Before long, Antoine was looking as green as his eyes, despite the fact the water was calm and there was little wind. The two oarsmen were obviously aware of his discomfort and winked at each other with a knowing grin.
Hugh saw the manor come into view. Why did it evoke such a feeling of homecoming in him? “There’s Melton,” he shouted. “Row in as close as you can. I don’t see Lady Devona yet.”
They brought the boat in closer, and Hugh caught sight of Devona halfway down the twisting staircase.
“There she is,” he cried. He was about to wave when Antoine caught his arm.
“ Attention, Hugh. There’s a man standing at the top of the steps, watching. He’s looking out towards us, probably wondering who we are and what we’re doing.”
Hugh shaded his eyes and looked up. “ Merde! It must be Torod! We can’t risk approaching closer with him there. Pull us further out. He won’t make out who we are at this distance.”
They waited interminable minutes, watching Devona on the beach.
“She must wonder why we’re not coming in,” Antoine said, wiping his mouth after another bout of retching.
Hugh gave his brother a sympathetic glance. “She’ll know. She can’t see the top of the steps, but she’ll know he’s there.”
At last, Torod seemed to grow impatient, kicked at a stone and left.
Hugh exhaled. “Good, he must think we’re simple fishermen. Pull in.”
The oarsmen put their backs into it and soon had the boat close to shore.
“Better not go right up on the beach, in case we have to
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