Emma rose from her seat and walked slowly to the men. Her attendants stayed at their stations, but both stood poised to act if the need arose. Did these men of the north think Normans so dishonourable that they would attack a woman in her own home?
Emma stopped before Gui.
‘I am a poor widow with few resources. I do not have the means to escort my child here safely and she cannot travel alone, not while bands of rebels and outlaws roam through Yorkshire. It is simply not safe.’
‘Your daughter will come to no harm,’ Gui assured her.
‘You thought York was safe after FitzOsbern was given the garrison in the city, but Edgar and Sweyn of Denmark proved you wrong! Yorkshire may rise in rebellion again at any time.’
‘Now Alan Rouz holds the estate as Tenant in Chief, Yorkshire will not rise again. William has seen to that. Barely a village stands between here and Durham.’
Gui and Gilbert had marched with Alan the Red of Brittany to take York back when the Aetheling had attacked for the second time. Rouz had been granted land and William had decreed that Gilbert was the man to marry the sister of the young eorl who had taken arms against him.
Emma looked from man to man. Approaching her late thirties and therefore at least ten years older than either man, she was still an attractive, elegant woman with full breasts and a gently curved belly. Where once he might have taken his time to appreciate her beauty, Gui remained unmoved, simply noting that time and her troubles had not diminished her looks.
‘I agreed to allow my daughter to marry you, Sir Gilbert,’ Emma said coldly, ‘but I do not have to like it. Nor do I have to aid you in the process.’
‘You did not agree. You were given no choice,’ Gui pointed out. Neither was Gilbert, he thought ruefully. ‘A marriage was settled in return for your lands not being devastated after your son joined with the Aetheling’s forces.’
Emma’s eyes filled with hatred. Gui shrugged. A daughter’s virginity was a small price to pay in return for the guarantee of safety for those who lived on her manor, especially when the girl would have been doubtless married off to some straw-haired eorl in any case.
‘Sigrun is a compliant and dutiful maiden and will do what is required of her. If you wish to marry my daughter go and bring her here yourself!’ Emma lifted her chin. ‘I’ll send word ahead that the prioress should expect the noble Gilbert du Rospez to come claim his bride. Until you marry her, this house is mine so leave it now. Both of you.’
She turned on her heel and vanished behind the thick embroidered hangings into her private quarters, leaving Gui, Gilbert and their escort standing alone. Her attendants moved silently to stand before the curtain and block entry.
Gilbert spun on his heel and marched out of the building with as much dignity as the departed woman. Outside he sagged against the beam of wood at the corner of the building and sighed.
‘That woman is impossible. How dare she behave to me in such a manner?’
This was Gilbert through and through. Veering between tongue-tied shyness and wild outbursts of bullishness. Managing him took all Gui’s efforts.
‘We have invaded her land and now you wish to claim her daughter as your wife. Did you expect to be greeted with open arms?’ Gui asked.
‘Wish to marry her daughter! Wish to?’ Gilbert threw his arms up. ‘The wish is not mine. You know that, Gui. It is as much a penance to me as a reward. I don’t want to marry an English mouse who by her mother’s own account might be feeble-minded!’
Gui doubted that Gilbert had the urge to marry any woman. His mind was consumed entirely with thoughts of riding or breeding his beloved horses. Give him a kindred spirit and he would waste the night in enthusiastic discussion, but with a woman he was useless. Gui strongly suspected he was still a virgin.
‘Calm yourself. You might not want the girl, but you do want this.’
Gui gestured at the imposing house and the fields surrounding it, his throat catching with envy. It was built in the old style from tall planks of oak with wicker fencing surrounding a courtyard. To own such a home would be the greatest thing Gui could imagine. Gilbert shrugged him off and stalked to his destrier and the mare Gui had hired in York.
Gui followed him. ‘You’ll be a man of means with land here. Plenty of room to breed your horses. It’s better than being the second son of a nobleman in Brittany, even if it does mean marrying an English mouse.’
Much better than being the son of a vassal in that nobleman’s fief, too. Although Gui had accompanied Gilbert from Brittany at the behest of his friend, no one had offered him land, much less a bride for the part he had played in the conquest.
‘You know where the girl is now. All you need to do is go fetch her and the matter can be settled. You can have her back here by midsummer’s day. That would be a good-omened day for a wedding.’
‘I can’t go fetch her. I’ll be as useless persuading the girl to leave the priory as I was compelling her mother to retrieve her,’ Gilbert said gloomily. ‘Besides, I’ve been offered an opportunity I’d like to take.’
‘Which is?’ Gui prompted.
‘I’ve been invited to hunt on the Earl’s lands in the west. One of the men going breeds good stock horses. I told him I’d be there. There are good deer to hunt. You should join us.’
Gui’s jaw clenched. He jerked his head to his left arm. ‘And how would I bring them down with no means of drawing a bow?’
Gilbert’s eyes lit and he pointed a finger at Gui. ‘My friend, I have a solution. Go to Byland in my place. Bring the girl back for me while I am away.’
Gui gave a short laugh, then stopped short. He scowled. ‘You actually mean that, don’t you?’
Gilbert swung himself into the saddle. ‘Why not? It should be a simple matter. If you don’t intend to come with me, you have nothing better to do with your time.’
Gui had planned to spend his immediate future visiting as many of York’s drinking dens as he could and passing into oblivion. Traipsing halfway across Yorkshire to collect another man’s bride did not hold any appeal, even if that man was his oldest friend. He mounted his horse, gathering the reins in his right hand.
‘We’ll make arrangements within the week,’ Gilbert mused.
‘My lord! Gilbert! I said no.’
‘Of course you did, but you’ll do it anyway.’ Gilbert exuded confidence, displaying the easy charm that had failed to work on Lady Emma. ‘I could command you as your liege lord, but I know I won’t have to. My good friend. I ask a lot of you but I’ll reward you, too. You’ll need a better horse, of course. Better clothes, too. It will cost me dearly.’
Gui rolled his eyes. He was ambivalent about horses, something Gilbert found incomprehensible.
‘I imagine Lady Emma will see it as a personal insult if you send a messenger in your place.’
Gilbert pouted. ‘It’s the daughter I have to marry, not the mother.’
Gui gave him a stern look. Diplomacy was not Gilbert’s strongest feature.
‘I suppose you’re right,’ Gilbert conceded. He broke into a trot and they skirted around the edge of Lady Emma’s land towards the forest path. Gui followed, uneasy on horseback and watchful for signs of trouble Gilbert might ignore.
As they reached the edge of the forest Gilbert pulled his reins sharply and turned to Gui.
‘You go as me!’
Gui drew his horse to a halt, momentarily puzzled.
‘You go in my place to Byland,’ Gilbert clarified. He smiled. ‘Take my name. Lady Emma is sending