‘You should rest for another few days,’ Ali told her and smiled. ‘It is good that you are feeling better, lady, but you have been very ill and you are not yet strong.’
‘I think I could come down,’ Anne said. ‘It is lonely lying here alone. I think about who I am and what happened to me…and it frightens me.’
‘You need something to occupy your mind,’ Ali told her. ‘Do you think you could read a book—or would you prefer some sewing?’
‘I should love to read,’ Anne said with a sigh. ‘But books are so expensive…’
‘Nevertheless, Lord de Montfort has many,’ Ali said and smiled at her. ‘I shall ask him if you may borrow one to help pass the time—would you like a Bible or a book of fables?’
‘Is there such a thing?’ Anne’s interest was caught. ‘I should love to read a story. A story such as the storyteller told at Christmastide.’ She remembered that Christmas had been a happy time for her as a child, but she could not recall the people who had made it so.
‘Then I shall speak to Lord de Montfort and ask him,’ Ali told her. ‘In the meantime I shall bring you something to help you sleep.’
‘You are all so kind.’ She sighed and lay back against the pillows. Everyone was kind to her, but she wished she knew who she was and whence she came.
Stefan looked down at the woman’s face as she lay sleeping. He did not know what drew him to her chamber at this hour, except that she haunted his thoughts waking or sleeping. He had forced himself to stay away from her for some days, but he was not satisfied to hear the women say she was doing well, and had come to see for himself, and to bring the book of legends and fables she had requested. He placed the leather-covered volume on the chest-on-stand beside her bed. How lovely she looked with her hair spread on the pillow! The sight of her touched something deep inside him.
She was deeply asleep, though now and then she cried out, and he leaned closer to catch the words.
‘Mother…’ she whimpered. ‘Mother…’
Stefan was tempted to stroke her hair as he had while she was ill, but the scent of her wafted into his nostrils, setting up a fierce craving for something he did not recognise and he drew back. If he woke her, he might be tempted to do more than simply touch her.
Cursing himself for a fool, he turned and left her. He should not have come. Yet she drew him to her again and again, making him aware that his life was empty, had long been empty of all the things that he had desired as a young man.
Foolish dreams! He frowned as he strode away from the house to the garden and the pool where he bathed whenever he was restless. He had given up all hope when he left England, banished from home and all that he loved. It would be stupid to let a young woman make him dissatisfied with the life he had chosen for himself, for if he gave in to the disturbing feelings she roused in him, he would become soft and lose his resolve!
‘You look so sad,’ Claire said as they walked together in the grounds of her father’s estate. ‘I am sorry that nothing has been heard of your poor sister, but it was unlikely that she would be found alive.’
Harry looked down at her lovely face. Her eyes were soft with concern for him, and he felt that she was sincere in all she said. He knew that she was right. Anne was gone, lost to the sea. He had grieved for her for the past three weeks, and in another week he must return to England and the court. Before that he would ask Claire if she was willing to return with him as his wife.
‘I know that I should put my sorrow behind me,’ Harry said, regret in his face. ‘I came here to ask you to be my wife, Claire, and I have not had the heart to do it. Tomorrow I must leave, because I want to visit my parents before I return to court. I had hoped you would accompany me as my wife, but I have not courted you or told you of my feelings…’
Claire smiled at him gently. ‘I knew why you came,’ she said, ‘and I have understood why you have not spoken. In the circumstances it could not be otherwise. I respect you, Harry—and your grief for Anne has shown me that you feel deeply. When we met at court I thought you might be too proud and careless to make me a good husband, but sharing your sorrow has brought us closer. If you were to ask me to marry you, Harry, you might be pleased with my answer.’
Harry looked at her uncertainly, then went down on his knee before her. ‘I love you beyond my life, Claire. I would do anything for you and protect you with my life. If you could bring yourself to accept my offer, I should be happy to wed you.’
‘Yes, Harry, I shall marry you,’ Claire told him with a smile. ‘Delay your journey two days so that we may be betrothed and I shall accompany you to your home. Once your parents are over their grief, I shall wed you.’
‘You are as generous and good as you are lovely,’ Harry said and stood up. He drew her to him, bending his head to kiss her lips. ‘But will your father allow you to come with me—and shall you brave it, my love? The sea is always dangerous, Claire. After what happened to my sister, I am reluctant to expose you to such a journey.’
‘Anne was unfortunate,’ Claire said and held his hand. ‘No one could have expected such freak waves… and she should have gone below deck when you begged her to. Never fear that I shall not obey you, my love.’
Harry smiled down at her, touching her cheek with his fingertips. ‘You have courage, Claire, and I would die rather than let anything happen to you. I would have gone into the sea for Anne had they not struck me from behind, but nothing would stop me if it were you.’ He bent his head and kissed her once more. ‘If your father permits, we shall be betrothed and then I shall take you to my parents.’
Claire held her hand out to him. ‘We must find my father and speak to him, for there is no time to be lost.’
‘I know that seeing you will help to ease my mother’s unhappiness,’ Harry said. ‘She will grieve long and hard for her daughter, but she will welcome my wife with open arms.’
‘I look forward to meeting her,’ Claire told him. ‘Look, Father is coming to meet us.’ She looked at her father’s face and then at Harry. ‘I believe he has some news, Harry. Perhaps he has heard something at last.’
‘If Anne’s body has been found at least I can make sure that she has a decent burial.’ Holding Claire’s hand, he went to meet the Comte. ‘Sir, we have been seeking you.’
‘And I have been seeking you,’ the Comte told him. ‘The news I bring is better than we might have hoped, though it is not certain.’
‘Sir…’ Harry stared at him, an icy tingle starting at the nape of his neck. ‘You have heard news of Anne?’
‘I cannot be certain it was your sister, but my agent has been told of a young woman plucked from the wreckage of a ship at about the point the debris from your ship might have drifted to by the next morning.’
‘Plucked from the sea?’ Harry stared at him and let go of Claire’s hand. ‘Are you saying…? No, it cannot be.’
‘The girl taken from the sea was still alive,’ Comte St Orleans said and frowned. ‘The man who gave us this information said she was unconscious and looked near death. When she was taken from the ship she had not recovered her senses, but she was still breathing.’
‘God be praised!’ Harry cried. ‘You say she was taken from the ship—does this informant know where she was taken?’
‘I fear that he knows no more than he has told me,’ the Comte said. ‘You may question him yourself, but I do not think he can help you much more. If you wish to search for her you must travel to Normandy, for it was there the ship was headed, and ask for news. It is possible that someone may have heard of her.’ He looked at his daughter. ‘What was it you wished to tell me, Claire?’
‘I think it will keep for another day,’ she said and gazed up at Harry.