The Baron's Bride. Joanna Makepeace

      Aldith’s heart misgave her as Gisela put spurs to her palfrey and rode out of sight. Not only was her mistress at risk, but the necessity to urge Kenrick to declare himself also worried Aldith. Suppose her mistress was to be disappointed in the man and humiliated by a refusal to help her? Gisela was so sure that Kenrick was a suitor. If she were wrong, she would be brokenhearted.

      Aldith had sent off Gisela’s message as promised. Since there was no time for a reply she could only hope Kenrick would be at the trysting place as Gisela had requested. She sighed and went wearily back into the manor house. She had slept badly, still worried about Sigurd and concerned for her mistress.

      Gisela knew she was early when she reached the clearing. She had been too impatient to wait before leaving Brinkhurst. She walked her palfrey to a large flat stone she had previously used as a mounting block and managed to dismount unaided, then secured her palfrey’s reins on a low branch of overhanging alder and moved unhurriedly to the stream.

      She had encountered no one in the wood. The villagers had been working at the final autumn tasks within their own cottages. There were still rushes to be dipped, apples stored and inspected and the final sealing done on salted pig-meat barrels.

      She frowned as she tapped her riding whip against her booted foot. If Kenrick had been from home when her message arrived, this last desperate measure to avoid what she considered an enforced marriage could well be doomed for, somehow, she knew her father would give his decision later today. He would not keep Baron Alain de Treville waiting and last night he had been so definitely in favour of the match. Only Kenrick could give her hope of rescue from this sorry fate by declaring himself today, as she prayed he would consent to do.

      She heard sounds of movement on the track and turned instantly to find Kenrick’s sorrel hack entering the clearing. She waited by the stream, her heartbeat quickening, as he sprang down and almost ran towards her. He took both her hands in his and squeezed them tightly.

      “Gisela, oh, my dear, I came the moment I received your message. I was out when the man came but he waited, praise God, and found me as I rode through the gate. There is no trouble at Brinkhurst? But, surely not, your father would have sent word.”

      His greeting was so ardent. She scanned his face anxiously; she could not have been mistaken about his feelings for her.

      She went straight to the point. “I thought you should know at once. My father proposes to wed me to Alain de Treville.”

      Shock registered instantly on Kenrick’s good-humoured countenance. For a moment he looked almost haggard. His gloved fingers tightened upon hers and he pulled her a little closer to him.

      “He has given his word?”

      “Not yet. I think it will be soon. De Treville asked for me yesterday, at the manor court. Did you hear about Sigurd?”

      Kenrick nodded. “Yes. I am sorry for the boy, but I suppose it was the best we could hope for him, under the circumstances.” He drew her away from the clearing some way so that they would not be seen so easily by any passerby on the track. “Tell me, Gisela, you are not in favour of this match? He would make you my lady…”

      “Of course I am not. Father was angered with me last night more than he has been for years now. I was vehemently against it. I told him I would not be coerced. I cannot imagine why the Baron should want such a marriage. We have been at odds from the first time we met and he does not strike me as a man who would accept a rebellious wife lightly. Surely he could make a more advantageous marriage at the King’s court?

      “I am at a loss to understand it. The proposal has come out of the blue.” Her eyes appealed to him and she hesitated, then plunged on. “I—I had hoped that—” she swallowed hard “—Kenrick, I must humiliate myself by asking if you have any feelings for me…”

      “Of course I have,” he said forcibly. “I would have declared myself months ago had not my mother been so against it.”

      “You have spoken with her about it?”

      “Aye.” He looked away momentarily. “We have quarrelled. I rode out early this morning to clear my head of wine fumes. We had a fierce engagement only last night when I informed her of my intentions regarding you and I drank more than I should.”

      “She does not approve of me,” Gisela sighed. “I feared as much.”

      “She would not approve of anyone I wished to marry, if the truth were known,” he said angrily. “She is unwilling to allow any other woman’s rule at Arcote, but I informed her last night that I would brook no more tearful scenes, that I would go to your father soon and request your hand in marriage.”

      Gisela expelled a tiny sigh and he bent and kissed her gloved palm. “Do not be afraid, my love. I will ride back with you today and ask for your hand. When he is made aware that we both want this match, I do not think he will force you into a marriage that would be odious to you.”

      Gisela was doubtful. Her father had been determined last night that Kenrick was not the man for her but surely, as Kenrick said, he would listen to reason? She had to try. She looked into Kenrick’s young frowning face intently.

      “You are sure? I would not press you. It is just that—we have always dealt well together and—and this has come so suddenly…”

      “Aye,” he said bitterly, “and this man de Treville is far more noble than I. Your father will take some persuading.”

      “Oh, Kenrick, what shall we do if he will not listen to reason? He has never been so adamant before, about anything.”

      Kenrick’s brows drew together. “Let us meet this squarely first, Gisela. If your father refuses me outright, we must think again.” He paused and looked down at her steadily. “Would you—would you be prepared to defy him and—and run from Brinkhurst?”

      She caught her breath in a great gasp, her gaze directed from him now, looking wildly about the little clearing, at the trees almost denuded of leaves now and the short grass where the pigs had grazed. “I don’t know, I—” Then she turned fully back to him. “Yes, if it is necessary. I will escape this forced marriage by any means but, Kenrick, where could we go, what could we do if my father refuses his consent to our betrothal?”

      His mouth set in a stubborn line. “Why, then we must wed without his consent. I will take you before a priest in Leicester Town. There we are not known and any priest will wed us, given the right inducements. Afterwards—” he gave a click of the tongue indicating distaste for his next words “—afterwards your father will not wish to have the marriage annulled, not if—if you are truly mine. Do you understand, Gisela?”

      She nodded, but her eyes were misting with tears. “Yes, but I pray the Virgin that it will not be necessary. I love him so, Kenrick. I would not wish to live in enmity with my own father, nor will you wish to be at odds with a neighbour.”

      Alain de Treville rode at ease through Allestone wood. He was accompanied only by his squire, Huon. Today he expected no displays of hostility from his own people. He had proved to them who was master and he hoped they would recognise the degree of mercy he had shown. True, he was leaving the desmesne of Allestone but only for a short time; he intended calling on his neighbour, Walter of Brinkhurst, so he rode without mail.

      The reason, or was it excuse, for his visit was curled up in a rush basket within a pannier secured to one side of his saddle. He smiled down at the hound pup fondly. He had been assured that it was correctly weaned and would make a suitable gift for Gisela of Brinkhurst. Had she not said he was beautiful? He was humming an old Norman folksong sung to him in childhood by his own wet nurse, which he had not remembered in years. The air was cold but the day was bright and his hopes were high.

      Huon, keeping a respectful distance behind him, watched the jaunty set of his master’s shoulders and wondered. Alain de Treville had proved himself a good and fair master but, so far, Huon had seen little sign of jollity in his character. Throughout these past months the Baron’s one abiding desire had been to ensure the defences