A Stern Lord for My Lady by R.R. Vane

Chapter 14

During the first days after the tournament, Bertran had been mostly absent from home and he’d spoken little to Alicia when they were alone. He had not touched her at all during those days, but in the beginning she had assumed he was weary after the fighting, and she had decided to be wise and just let him be. She had told herself he would soon become her passionate and mischievous husband again, and the light and laughter were bound to return to his hazel eyes after he let go of his weariness. Yet it had not been so. For two weeks now, Bertran had been behaving coldly towards her. And she’d felt puzzled and hurt by this new behaviour.

It did not help that they were still both tethered to the court. There were days when they barely saw each other. Often, he got back well after midnight, and there was no time to exchange true talk. He often left at dawn, before she roused.

At last it became plain to Alicia that he’d truly changed towards her. Gone was that mischievousness in his gold flecked hazel eyes, gone were the teasing and the lingering caresses. He barely looked at her now, and when he deigned to make love to her, it was as if she were coupling with a stranger. She was, as always, wet for him when he thrust inside her, but he didn’t seem to rejoice in her willingness. She’d tried to use sweet words and caresses, but he’d shrugged them away. And she’d tried to talk to him, inquiring if she had offended him somehow. But he’d cut her short whenever she’d tried to confer with him. She’d then, on purpose, behaved discourteously, only to attempt to get some sort of response from him, yet he had not seemed to care about her behaviour.

And today, when at last they were both free from Court to spend their day as they pleased, she’d utterly lost her temper, and she’d started shouting at him in anger, demanding to know why he was treating her with such disdain.

“You’d better hold your tongue, my lady. There’s nothing I wish to hear from you at this time,” he told her and his voice sounded cold and weary.

Again she tried to get him to tell her why he was acting as if she’d done something wrong.

“Why are you behaving so, my lord? What have I done to deserve this treatment?” she demanded, deciding it was high time to end this strain, which had lingered between them for two weeks.

He said nothing, just stared away from her.

“Is there a woman you’ve found at Court who pleases you better than I? Is that it?” Alicia asked, resolving to voice the fears, which had been plaguing her ever since he’d become cold towards her.

He gave a short, bitter laugh, but did not answer her. So, was she right? When she’d wed, Alicia had not expected her husband to keep faith with her. Men were fickle, and her father had always considered it his right to bed other women beside her mother, while his wife had kept faith with him. Alicia’s own mother had not seemed distressed by it. Men have their urges, she’d told her daughter with an unconcerned shrug. As long as the husband is courteous and does not flaunt his women, doing this quietly, wives have naught to complain about. Her father had been courteous and had behaved affectionately to her mother, yet Alicia had always known there’d been other women.

She took a deep breath, understanding that, unlike her mother, she could never be complacent about it. She didn’t want another woman touching her husband. She just wanted him for herself. She loved him. And now he was casting her a bitter, angry glance. Even in his anger, he looked comely, but, she understood, it was not only that he was comely. He was valiant and honourable and level-headed. He could be mischievous and even harsh, yet he’d never been unkind. And until this strange coldness had seized him, she’d begun to think he’d truly grown to care for her. But perhaps he didn’t. Perhaps he now cared for some lady love at Court.

“Husband,” she spoke in anger, giving him a stormy look of her own. “Tell me what it is. Let us talk. Perchance you’re cold to me because you’ve found another?”

“I wish it were so,” he told her harshly. “That way I wouldn’t be the only one who’s faithless in this marriage.”

Blood rose within her temples. Did he think her faithless?

“Have I ever given you cause to think I’ve been unfaithful?” she asked in an indignant voice.

He was calling her honour into question, and she would not stand for it. She might love him, but she would not let him treat her with disdain. She’d been loyal and true to him and had tried to be a good wife. It angered her that he could think she was otherwise, and her eyes blazed when she looked upon him.

“I shall not stand for hurtful words, husband! I have never been faithless! You need to take back what you’ve just uttered!”

Again, he laughed bitterly.

“Maybe not in deed, but I’m certain you’re faithless in thought. You dream of the fop, Erec de Jarnac. I’m certain you think of him whenever I thrust inside you. It was, after all, him you wished to marry.”

She stared at him. Was that why he’d been so cold and bitter to her? Did he still think she cared for Erec? Hadn’t he been able by now to tell how she burnt for him when she was in his arms? Hadn’t her loving behaviour to him been proof enough? It seemed incomprehensible. So Bertran’s coldness to her had not been prompted by the love for another, but by sheer jealousy. She felt blazingly angry with him for doubting her so, yet she attempted to let go of her anger, because her love burnt brighter than her anger. His words meant he had not broken faith with her, and things could be mended between them.

She opened her mouth to set him at ease.

“I…”

He did not let her finish.

“Don’t speak to me if you mean to tell me a lie. I could not bear it,” he told her between gritted teeth.

She stared at him in wonder. He was furious with her. And it seemed his fury went deeper than mere offence that she’d dishonoured him. The anguished look he was casting her now meant he cared for more than that. And, suddenly, it was plain. He’d come to love her – just as she’d come to love him. She cast him a brilliant smile, and he scowled at her darkly. Of course, he was still furious with her, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel any more anger towards him. He was furious with her because he loved her. What had Master Reed’s wife said? That lovemaking after a harsh punishment felt more wondrous than anything in this world. That the bond of love felt truer and deeper after chastisement and reconciliation had taken place.

“Why don’t you punish me if you think I did wrong? You’ve always believed it is within your rights to do so,” she said softly.

These past weeks, she’d tried to provoke him to spank her, thinking a spanking might bring a closeness, which would mend the rift between them. So, there had been times when she’d spoken to him more than defiantly, hoping he would chastise her for it. But it had been to no avail. Bertran had not seemed to care about her defiance.

He now cast her a wilting look.

“I recall the last time I spanked you. I recall your soaking wet cunt and your moans of rapture. Do you think me so feeble-minded? You believe I don’t know such a punishment will always seem a reward to you?”

“You could punish me hard. Mercilessly,” she offered, thinking a punishment might make him let go of his misplaced anger towards her. By spanking her, he might let go of his resentment, and then, once he saw her chastened and sobbing, he would make deep love to her, and all the mistrust he’d harboured would melt away. After he’d spent the blaze of his passion, he would be prepared to see reason and truly listen to what she had to say.

He shook his head tiredly.

“No,” he said in a terse voice.

He stormed out of the room, without giving her the chance to call after him. Alicia heaved a deep sigh. What could she do to make him understand there was no one else she cared for? No one but him? She resolved to make him listen when he returned. And she resolved to tell him of her love. Plainly so. But would he believe her? He didn’t seem to trust her at all, which she could not understand. She’d never given him cause for mistrust. Never.

She spent the rest of her morning in turmoil. When a serving girl called to her to come down, her heart started beating in anticipation, thinking her husband had returned home and she would have the chance to reason with him. She resolved to make him listen at all costs, even if she had to shake him. She looked in disappointment upon the visitor standing in the Hall. It was her father, gazing at her with a smile on his face.

Alicia heaved a deep sigh, knowing her father had come to take his leave of her. He would be heading back home, since his rift with Henry seemed to have been miraculously mended. Alicia had fully begun to suspect he was now on Henry’s side, and was only leading Eleanor to believe she still had his allegiance. She led him to the solar, and called for refreshments, knowing the words that needed to be spoken between father and daughter had waited long enough.

* * *

Bertran felthis heart burn in his chest, as he gazed upon the gelatinous waters of the Thames. For the past hour, he’d been walking the city like mad, trying to still the throbbing pain in his heart. She’d not denied it, had she? She’d not denied that she still carried a torch for Erec de Jarnac.

He raked a hand through his hair, thinking, like so many times before, that his wife was not truly to blame for it. He couldn’t reproach her, could he? She’d plainly rejected his suit. And she had probably not broken faith with him. There had been little chance for her to be alone for long with De Jarnac, except for stolen moments at Court, which could be only very brief, as he’d made sure of her whereabouts when she was there. He’d conferred with the serving men who usually accompanied her, and he’d found there had been no impropriety. The lady Alicia, the men had reported, spent most of her time engaged in her various duties and left the house only to go to Court or Mass, or walk through the market in full view. At night she always waited for her husband to come home from Court as she usually arrived before him, and that was all.

Still, Bertran recalled only too well the look in his wife’s eyes when she’d told him she’d spoken to Sir Erec after the joust, and he recalled well her loud cry when he’d unhorsed the fop. At the time he’d heard her voice cry out, he’d foolishly believed she’d been truly cheering for him. But he’d perceived her face was distracted and not joyful at all, when he’d looked at her from the tournament field. Besides, she had not been there to embrace him when he’d had his triumph, and she had seemed flustered when at last she’d come to look upon him. He recalled all of Lady Edith’s malicious words, which still cut into him like poisonous splinters. After the joust hadn’t Alicia gone to Erec first, caring less that her husband was the victor and more that Sir Erec might be wounded? It was only too plain whom she truly cared for.

He stared at the water, pulling his cloak to wrap himself with it and feeling chilled, although the weather was warm and mild. Alicia did not love him. She loved another, and perhaps it would always be so. While he… he loved her. He smiled bitterly, understanding he could no longer disguise it to himself. He’d tried to tell himself he was incensed because he was a wronged husband. But it was not so, was it? He’d been able to perceive the truth in her eyes today when she’d spoken. She had not wronged him. She’d even come to his bed a maiden, and had not broken faith with him since they’d spoken their wedding vows. It was only that she loved another. And it tore his heart out of his chest to think upon it.

Dejectedly, he started dragging his feet back home. Alicia was not to blame, and did not deserve his scorn. He only had himself to blame for it. He loved her, when she could not love him in return. His hounds greeted him back, wagging their tails and trailing after him when he finally stepped inside the Hall. He looked around him, noting the changes Alicia had brought to his home. It had started looking like a home now. Even if she had her own tedious duties at Court, she’d been diligently working for his comfort, and he’d never even found a word of praise for her efforts. She had been trying to be a good and true wife to him, although her heart belonged to another. Instead of seeing that, he’d treated her with disdain.

“Where is your mistress?” he asked a serving girl who was passing by, busy at her chores.

“She’s in the solar with the guest, my lord,” the girl, a new servant Alicia had employed, told him with a small curtsy.

Guest? What guest? Bertran found himself storming up the stairs, thinking perhaps Erec de Jarnac had decided to come to call upon the woman he loved. He paused in front of the door of the solar, rubbing his temples tiredly. He was behaving like a fool. Of course, De Jarnac would not call upon their house in broad daylight, after Bertran had made it plain he knew of his feelings for Alicia. De Jarnac may dress like a fop, but he was not a fool. Alicia was probably entertaining a different guest. Bertran prepared to enter the solar and greet their guest, when the sound of angry voices was heard from behind the door.

Alicia’s voice was incensed.

“I do not understand you! Now you behave as if nothing untoward has happened, as if all along you were in favour of the match, and I was the only one against it!”

Another voice followed, placating, which Bertran recognised after a while as belonging to Lord de Lancres.

“Come, come, daughter, I can see the way you’re acting around the bastard. I know you well enough to see you’re besotted with him. The match has proved a success, in spite of our misgivings, so why are you complaining?”

“I’m not complaining of the match! I’m complaining of your behaviour! You wrote the letter in my name! You spewed insults against the De Mornes in a letter that bore my name, so if the king decided to take offence, I would be the one to take the blame! I was humiliated in front of the entire Court and you stood by! You didn’t even have the decency to tell me I’d been summoned to Court for a chastisement!”

There was a pause before Lord de Lancres spoke.

“What could I have done? Eleanor was not inclined to offer protection. The king had taken offense, and he would have been incensed if he’d found out I’d been responsible. You know he covets what’s mine, he covets my wealth and lands…”

“You should have thought of that before you wrote the letter!”

“But I was doing only what we agreed upon. You said FitzRolf was unsuitable, beneath you in rank and wealth…”

“Yes, I did, but not because he was born a bastard! I did not look down upon him because of it, knowing he was a worthy knight. I merely weighed his suit against that of Sir Erec. Sir Erec’s name is more ancient and his estates are vaster! He seemed like an amiable man and I was already acquainted with him. Sir Erec seemed like a reasonable choice. I trusted you would write a gracious letter of rejection to Sir Bertran. Gracious! Instead, you took the opportunity to insult him and his family!”

“I got angered. I got angered by the De Mornes’ presumptuousness and by the royal favour they’d gained. I knew too well what Henry was doing. He was using them in order to undermine my authority! He was using them in his feud with Eleanor!”

“But instead of talking to me of it, honourably and honestly, you chose to act behind my back, knowing I would be the one to get the blame for your insults if the king decided to act!”

Silence fell, before Lord de Lancres said, “Please, daughter, I will not have us part in anger. I was wrong, but things have not turned out for the worst, have they? I’ve reconciled myself with it, and I’ve decided to start supporting the king, as I can see the queen is not going to be the victor. Besides, Henry now seems more favourably disposed towards me, now that you’ve wed the man of his choice. And you’re happy with your match, aren’t you?”

“Aye, I am happy with the match. It turns out Sir Bertran was indeed the better choice. But that is beside the point and you know it. You just stood by and let me take the blame! And Bertran and his family still believe me guilty!”

Bertran had heard enough. He flung the door open, as deep relief coursed through his veins.

“De Lancres,” he said, not bothering to offer a courteous greeting.

Lord de Lancres looked flustered, but attempted to plaster an amiable smile on his face.

“I was just talking to my daughter, saying that…”

“I know too well what you were saying. I heard it all.”

De Lancres blanched.

“I… The king… You wouldn’t speak to the king about it, would you? We are related now, come to think of it, and no longer on opposite sides.”

Bertran gave a short laugh.

“You’re lucky Lady Alicia still calls you her father. Otherwise, I would have challenged you.”

Alicia came to place a placating hand on his shoulder.

“Just leave him be, husband. There’s no need the king find out what has occurred.”

De Lancres was still staring at Bertran. His hands had closed around the back of the chair behind which he was standing. His knuckles were white and his eyes shone with fear.

Bertran turned his head in disgust. He spoke only to his wife.

“Since you’re asking it of me, I will keep silent. But I want him gone from my house. He’s not fit to look upon you, not after the cowardly, treacherous way he’s treated you!”

De Lancres didn’t wait for his daughter to reply.

“I shall take my leave of you then, daughter, wishing you all the happiness in this new marriage!” he said hurriedly, then beat a hasty retreat.

Bertran stared after him in wonder.

“Has he always been like that, your father? Fickle and cowardly?”

Alicia heaved a sigh.

“Yes, I suppose he has, though I was often too blind to perceive it. He is my father, you see.”

Bertran nodded. He now understood what life must have been for her, and that people misjudged her. They thought her an arrogant woman who kept her father under her thumb, not perceiving her father was a weak, cowardly man, and she’d had no one to rely upon apart from herself. She must have been the one to shoulder the full burden of their estates, with no help from her irresponsible parent. She was a strong, decisive woman because she’d had to be so. And Bertran found he preferred to have such a strong, decisive woman by his side, instead of a meek, subservient wife. She would always look to their family’s interests and fiercely protect them. His mother had been right in her choice. Lady Alicia was a good match for him, and it was not so because she was a great heiress. It was so because she was the woman she was.

“Did you hear everything?” Lady Alicia asked.

He nodded, and she cast him a rueful smile.

“So, now you know. I did not mean to offend you. It is not my way. I’d trusted my father would send a gracious rejection, because it was the honourable thing to do. I never dreamt he would be so foolish or use my name to show his support of Eleanor.”

She then added in a warm voice, taking his hand in hers.

“I’ve never looked down upon what you are. And now that we’re wed I’ve come to see how wrong I was. You’re a better choice than Sir Erec was. Sir Erec… We would never have suited. And there’s no attachment between Sir Erec and me.”

Bertran raked a hand through his hair, understanding his searing jealousy had blinded him to what had been in front of him. Alicia had come to care for him – it was plain in the way she’d acted, and in all those gestures of affection she’d tried to make when he’d behaved coldly to her. Instead of drawing away when faced with his churlishness, she’d tried to mend the rift between them. And he’d rejected her. He had behaved wretchedly. He now recalled how hard he’d spanked her in front of all the court to see. He recalled the humiliation and grief he’d caused her. A humiliation she’d borne with dignity, though she’d not been guilty of anything.

“So, the day of our wedding, I spanked you for nothing!” he said in a dejected voice.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he did not let her.

“You bore it all, and you didn’t protest! Why?” he asked incredulously.

She heaved a sigh.

“It would have been to no avail. No one would have believed me, and it would have made me look cowardly. Besides, it would have dishonoured my father…”

“He’d already dishonoured himself!”

“You’re right. But you know as well as I do that King Henry would have been incensed. Who knows what he would have done? Don’t you think he’d have used the opportunity to seize our lands? Eleanor couldn’t help, so I had no choice. Besides, you were right, you said a sore bottom and bruised pride can easily heal.”

He looked at her pointedly.

“And did they?” he asked in a gentle voice.

She nodded, with a smile.

“Aye. They did.”

* * *

She was speaking the truth,and now, smiling to herself, she realised something of great importance. If it hadn’t been for that spanking, Bertran and she would never have wed. She now saw that spanking not as a humiliating story to be forgotten at all costs, but as a story she and her husband would fondly remember during the years they had ahead of them. Strangely, what had started as deep humiliation had ended up as a fond memory. A burning one, for sure, but a fond memory, nevertheless.

“Forgive me,” Bertran suddenly told her, and the words rang humble.

“There’s nothing to forgive!” she said, knowing he had his own pride, and hadn’t spoken the words lightly.

He shook his head, perusing her with his fine hazel eyes.

“But there is. You bore it all patiently, with barely a word of complaint. And you’ve been a good wife, while I haven’t been a good husband. I doubted you. I was cross and ill-tempered and unfair…”

She opened her mouth to stop him, but he went on.

“And now I’m humbly begging your forgiveness, because this is what I should do. You must know you already have my heart, my lady. It is yours to do with what you please.”

He bent his knee, bowing his head in a humble gesture of obeisance.

“Rise, sir knight,” Alicia told him, smiling. “There’s no need to serve penance, and nothing you did which cannot be undone.”

He did as she’d bid him, coming to take her in his arms.

“I love thee true,” he said softly.

“And so do I,” she acquiesced in an ardent voice.

There was kissing, and then more than kissing. Much more. Later, in their chamber, as Alicia came to lie sated in her husband’s strong arms, she decided she’d gotten her wish. She’d gotten a husband who was suitable for her. He might not be the biddable man she’d wished for at first, but she’d come to see a biddable man wouldn’t have suited her at all.

“You did promise to be a dutiful husband,” she whispered softly in his ear, after she’d trailed teasing kisses on his neck and chest.

“I did. And it is a promise I intend to keep.”

“I shall strive to be a dutiful wife, in return. And I assume I shall be spanked whenever I don’t act like a dutiful wife,” she said lazily.

He laughed.

“No.”

She sat up with a frown.

“No?”

He grinned at her, now lightly toying with her nipple.

“Of course not. That won’t be a punishment at all. You enjoy it far too much. Besides…”

“Yes?” she asked, her breathing now laboured and her sex already tingling due to what his clever fingers were doing to her breast.

“I also enjoy it far too much,” he said softly, then took her nipple in his mouth.