Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

T hey had been on the road for three days.

Three long days of being treated no better than animals. Andia never thought in her lifetime that she would ever experience anything like this, but unfortunately, she'd also never believed that Kennington Castle would fall.

But it had.

She was now at the mercy of the king.

The day after the castle had collapsed completely, the knight who had spanked Aeron had headed up an escort to take her and her brother to London. As it had been explained to her, Henry had wanted her father as a hostage, but given the fact her father was dead, the next best thing was his children. Even three years after Simon de Montfort's death, the man still had supporters throughout England, and Henry was smart enough to know that there was a network of them who were probably already aware that Kennington had fallen and the Earl of Ashford had been killed. That meant taking the children hostage because Henry wanted to ensure that those determined to seek vengeance for Ashford's death might think twice before doing so.

Andia and her brother were going to serve that purpose, a political purpose. That meant they were to be taken to London immediately, but the only reasonable mode of transport was a heavy provisions wagon.

That was where Andia and Aeron found themselves today.

Lurching about in a wagon.

Evidently, Henry's men had hunted for a carriage of some sort, but there was no such conveyance at Kennington, so they had to settle on the wagon. Andia's father didn't believe in comfort when one traveled, so the only transportation at the castle had been horses that the conquering army had already seen fit to confiscate. Andia recognized several of her father's finer horses being ridden, or led, by the escort around them.

And they'd confiscated everything else, too. Andia had seen the looting from her chamber window. Throughout the night, she had seen men going in and out of the keep carrying items with them, and she'd hardly gotten any sleep realizing that her father's curated collections and valuables were being looted. The only thing she took comfort in was the knowledge that his coin had been well hidden. She had seen to that herself. Nothing short of a demand from God was going to force her to reveal the location.

At least the money was safe.

Not even Aeron knew where it was.

Sitting beside her in the wagon, her brother had been strangely silent since the spanking dealt to him. Truthfully, Andia was grateful that the knight with the big shoulders had only spanked him. She had been quite certain that he had been taking the boy off to kill him, but he hadn't. The blood-covered knight had shown mercy, even if that mercy had been in the palm of his open hand as he'd paddled Aeron's skinny bottom.

But it could have been so much worse.

Andia glanced over at Aeron, who was sullen as he watched the road pass behind them. The road from home, leading to from the things they knew into a world they didn't. They were prisoners, Andia understood that, and, all things considered, she was grateful that their confinement wasn't worse. In fact, her guards seemed to show an inordinate amount of concern for their comfort. Their wrists were bound, but on the second day of their travel, Andia's skin was chafing so badly that one of her guards had found a softer strip of cloth to wrap around the rope to ease the irritation. They even had her and Aeron sitting on a bed of straw that was covered with a blanket so there was some comfort as they bumped and jerked over the road.

Odd behavior from men who, at first, had been so cruel.

Cruelty in not only the battle, but their behavior afterward. Andia had only been given about an hour to pack before they left Kennington, rushed by knights wearing Henry's tunic, so she had a satchel with her that contained what were now the only possessions she had, and that included her only cloak. During the day when the sun was high, she'd been allowed to wear the cloak with the hood over her head to protect herself from the sun, while Aeron had developed a nice sunburn on his forehead. He was quite fair as it was, with his straw-colored hair and freckles, so the sunburned forehead and sunburned nose had him looking like a farmer's child, which he didn't like one bit.

But still, he kept quiet.

That was perhaps one of the most disorienting things about the entire journey. Aeron, who had little restraint when it came to his mouth or his actions, had been inordinately quiet. The spanking he'd been dealt seemed to have done something to him, and Andia had to admit that she was relieved. A little brother who was quiet and obedient was so much better than a little brother with a damning tongue and an even more damning sense of his own mortality. She wasn't exactly sure what that knight had said to her brother when he'd spanked him, but it was enough to keep Aeron subdued.

The third day of travel had been a little different from the previous days because a storm was blowing in from the sea and the wind had picked up a great deal. They were traveling through farming villages and the fields around them were being battered by the wind. Seabirds flew overhead, riding the drafts, and Andia would watch them swoop into the fields looking for something to eat. She'd heard some of the men talk about staying the night at Rochester Castle, a place that she had visited before with her father. Anselm had known the steward of Rochester Castle, and they had stayed there once overnight on a trip from London. Since her father had supported de Montfort, however, the relationship with the Rochester steward had cooled, as Rochester was a Crown property.

Thoughts of Rochester brought about thoughts of her father. Aeron missed him a great deal, Andia could tell, but she didn't share the same sentiment. Anselm had been a cold man to the women of the family, only warming to his only son because he felt the boy was the sole person of value. Once Aeron had been born and her mother had died in childbirth, Anselm sent his confused and grieving daughter to foster simply to get her out of the way. Andia had spent several years at Okehampton Castle in Devon before finally coming home a couple of years ago. It seemed that her father only wanted her as chatelaine, and perhaps even as a servant to her young brother who was now incorrigible and demanding, so her return home hadn't been a pleasant one.

That was the truth of it.

But she'd had nowhere else to go, thanks to her father, who had turned down two marriage offers for his daughter from knights at Okehampton. One offer was from the commander of Okehampton, an older man who had lost his wife years ago and had a special fondness for Andia. He was nice enough and Andia liked him, certainly preferring him over the other knight, who was from a very fine family but only wanted a beautiful wife to show off to everyone. He had no care for her other than her beauty. But Anselm had turned both of them down, wanting his daughter to remain at Kennington to be subservient to her brother.

And that had been her life until a few days ago.

Now, Andia had no idea what was going to happen, but there were some strange dynamics going on within the escort. She recognized several of them from the day Kennington fell, men who had been in the great hall when she'd been questioned by the Earl of Canterbury. Canterbury himself wasn't with the escort, having remained behind to secure Kennington for the Crown, but his son had come, the same knight who had guarded her door. A very big, very blond and brawny knight with a stylish mustache, named Stefan. She'd heard the others call him by name. There were also men by the name of Kent, Aidric, and Jareth, but she couldn't see the faces of any of them because they were riding with their helms on. Names for the faceless men who now held her life in their hands. Quite honestly, traveling to London made her feel as if she was traveling to her execution.

And she probably was.

By the time night fell, it had begun to rain. Lightning lit up the sky as the escort entered Rochester's city walls through the east gate. Fatted torches lit up the city and the streets, and the heavy smell of human sewage filled the air. The castle, perhaps one of the largest in England, loomed ahead. Rochester Castle was an enormous bastion on the banks of the River Medway, and Andia wasn't sure if she felt better or worse as she envisioned it. She remembered her father speaking fondly of the castle steward, but she was certain there would be no reciprocation this time.

She braced herself.

As soon as the wagon entered the castle grounds, it seemed that the entire population of the fortress had come out to meet them. Soldiers were rushing about, closing gates, and the escort moved into the enormous outer ward before coming to a halt. The rain was pounding at this point, and both Andia and Aeron were quite wet. One of the knights reached over the side of the wagon and pulled Aeron out as another knight leapt onto the wagon bed and helped Andia to her feet. She walked stiffly to the rear of the wagon, where still another knight reached up and lifted her off. As the wind and rain howled around them, they quickly headed for Rochester's great hall.

The stale warmth of the hall hit Andia like a slap to the face. There were people all around, including the steward of Rochester, whom she recognized. She also recognized his wife. Of course, she'd been quite young when she first met them, many years before Aeron was born, so she didn't expect them to know her. Lifting her bound hands to pull back her hood, she heard Lady Penden's voice.

"Why is she bound?" the woman asked, pointing to Andia. "That is Lord Ashford's daughter?"

The knight she was speaking to was the same one who had spanked Aeron, and he nodded. "Aye, Lady Penden," he said. "That is Lady Andia and her brother, the current Earl of Ashford."

Lady Penden's eyes widened and she immediately went to Andia, reaching out to take her bound hands. Without asking permission, she began to untie them.

"You do not remember me, do you?" she said, smiling at Andia. "I am Lady Penden. You visited here when you were no more than your brother's age. The cook made apples dipped in honey and cinnamon and you ate them until you became ill."

Freezing cold, with blue lips, Andia tried to smile in return. "I remember you, my lady," she said with a quivering voice. "The apples were delicious."

Olivia's smile grew. "I will have them make more for you tonight," she said. "You are most welcome, Lady Andia."

"My love?" Riggs Penden, Lord Penden and the steward of Rochester Castle, called politely to his wife. "Olivia, dearest? Please do not break those bindings. Lady Andia and her brother are Henry's prisoners."

Olivia, a small woman with red hair and a lovely, round face, went from sweet to steely in a split second. "Nonsense," she hissed, turning to her husband and the knight standing with him. "A young lady will not be treated like this in my home. Tell Henry if you wish, but I am taking her with me. She needs dry clothing and food. Her brother, too."

"Not me!" Aeron said, finding his voice after three days of silence. "I want to stay here, with the men."

Lady Penden looked at the young boy who also had his hands bound, but he was already moving toward the very large hearth that was belching smoke and sparks into the hall. That was his idea of drying out, evidently, so she didn't argue with him. She would relent when it came to the boy.

But not when it came to a young woman in distress.

The remainder of the bindings came off Andie's wrists and Lady Penden handed them to the nearest knight. "There," she said, looking to her husband and the knight standing with him. "The lady will be well tended for the night. I will see to her myself."

She took Andia by the hand, but a low, firm voice stopped her.

"Lady Penden, if I may." The knight who was their chief jailor very nearly blocked her path. "I am afraid that I am under orders from Henry. You may take Lady Andia with you, but a guard goes with her. If you do not agree, then I will take her from you and keep her with me. I am very sorry, but I must insist."

Lady Penden frowned. "And who are you?"

"My name is Torran de Serreaux, my lady," he said. "I am Henry's seigneur protecteur , commander of his personal guard. I am under royal orders that cannot be changed."

Lady Penden was still frowning. "I am not trying to change them," she said. "I am merely trying to help a young woman in your charge."

"She is a prisoner, my lady."

"She is a delicate young woman and must be treated with care."

"Forgive me, my lady, but she is being treated as well as her being a prisoner dictates."

Lady Penden was beside herself. "What has she done?" she demanded. "If she is a prisoner, what has she done to warrant this terrible treatment?"

Torran shook his head. "It is not what she has done, but her father," he said. "Her father's actions have dictated her treatment."

Lady Penden was aghast. "How unfair," she said. "How terribly cruel. What if this was your own sister being treated this way? Or, God forbid, your wife? Would you not protest?"

It was clear that Torran wasn't going to argue with her. He looked to the woman's husband, who quickly stepped in.

"Olivia, my love," he said as gently as he could. "This is not our affair. You must let Sir Torran do as his duties dictate."

Lady Penden wasn't going to back down. "Look at her," she said, sweeping a hand in Andia's direction. "This tiny child is a threat? She is such a threat that she should not be afforded any consideration?"

Torran cleared his throat quietly. "My lady, it is not that she is a threat," he said. "But her father is an enemy of the king and—"

"There is no need for this debate," Andia said, interrupting him. When all eyes looked at her, she focused on Torran. "Have no fear, my lord. I will not go with her, though she was most gracious to offer."

Before anyone could stop her, Andia quickly moved toward the hearth where her brother was trying to dry out. Lady Penden watched the cold, wet young woman move away, disappointment in her expression, before returning her attention to Torran.

"Does Henry truly have such heartless and cruel men?" she asked seriously. "Where is your soul, sir knight? You took an oath to protect the weak, yet you have treated this young woman so poorly?"

"My love," Lord Penden said before Torran could reply. "Sir Torran is not being cruel by choice, but she is a prisoner. You must not question his motives."

"Why?" Lady Penden demanded. "What should I not question how she has been treated?"

Torran's patience with the bold woman was at an end. "Her father was a supporter of Simon de Montfort," he said, not as polite as he could have been. "Henry's allies laid siege to Kennington Castle and Lord Ashford was killed during the fight. My orders are to bring the lady and her brother to Henry as prisoners of war, and that is exactly what I am doing. In spite of what you must think, there is no malice on my part. I am simply following my orders."

That explanation did nothing to ease Lady Penden. She pointed a finger in Andia's direction. "That young woman is soaked through to her skin," she said. "If she does not get into dry clothing, she will catch her death of chill and Henry will have no prisoner. If you allow that to happen, then there is malice on your part. Cruel and unnecessary malice."

Torran's gaze lingered on Lady Penden for a moment before he looked at Andia. She was in the process of removing her cloak, which was sopping wet. He could see the water on the floor. He could also see, even from where she stood, that she was quivering with cold. Something told him that not only was Lady Penden going to harp on this and cause problems, but she was right and she knew it. Torran wasn't so blinded by his sense of duty that he couldn't see it for himself.

Without another word, he made his way over to the hearth.

"Lady Andia," he said, watching her look up from her cloak like a startled deer. "I think it would be best if you went with Lady Penden. You need dry clothing and she is determined to help you, so you may go with her."

Andia shook her head and looked back down at her cloak as she spread it out in front of the hearth. "That is not necessary," she said. "I will dry out here."

Torran watched her position the cloak on the hot stones. "You would probably be more comfortable if you went with her."

Andia's jaw twitched faintly as she finished with her cloak and stood up. Taking a few steps, she ended up closer to Torran than she'd ever been. Her eyes, a pale brown that was almost gold, were glittering at him.

"I am going to stay here with my brother," she hissed. "You are so determined to treat us like animals that I would feel uncomfortable accepting Lady Penden's hospitality. You want everyone to see us in our shame, so let them see us. Let all of Rochester see us because, certainly, tomorrow all of London will see us. Let everyone point and jeer at the children of a supporter of Simon de Montfort. That is what you want, is it not? Do not show me kindness now, sir knight, for it would not be in your character. It would be a deception and I will not fall for it. Let everyone see how you treat enemies of Henry. I am staying here."

With that, she went back and sat down next to her brother in front of the hearth, refusing to look at Torran as she sat there and shivered. He should have been annoyed by her words, but she, too, was right. He had treated her and her brothers like prisoners because they were. Lady Andia understood that even if Lady Penden didn't. His gaze lingered on her a moment before returning to Lady Penden.

"She will not go with you," he said. "She is choosing to stay with her brother at this time."

Lady Penden was greatly distressed. "But… but she must be dried off," she insisted. "And where will she sleep?"

Torran gestured at the hearth. "There, where she is sitting," he said. "She says she will stay there."

As he spoke those words, Andia abruptly stood up and marched over to the knight who was still holding her bindings. She snatched them out of his hand only to walk over to Torran and hold them out to him.

"Here," she said through clenched teeth. "Lady Penden should not have removed these. You may replace them."

Torran's eyes locked with Andia's and he swore, at that moment, that he'd never seen a stronger or more stubborn woman. He began to realize that she was turning the tides on him somewhat, pointing out his cruelty in front of witnesses, making sure everyone understood just how he had behaved. The spanking he'd dealt Aeron didn't matter now, but his most recent actions did. Perhaps he'd shown the boy mercy, but that was the last time he had shown anything like that. Since departing Kennington, he'd treated the brother and sister like captives, because they were. How else was he supposed to treat a captive?

Even a captive as lovely as Andia St. Albans.

Aye, she was lovely. More than lovely, actually. He'd seen it from the moment he met her, but somehow, at this very moment, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He had no idea why that was, but that petite woman with the golden eyes and skin like cream was the strongest thing in that room at the moment. And she was trying to make a point.

He would let her.

Taking the bindings from her hand, he proceeded to tie her wrists again as Lady Penden gasped with outrage. He looked her in the eye as he did it, looping them around her wrists, pulling them tight against skin that had already been chafed by the ropes. But she was calling his bluff and he had obliged. The expression on her face suggested that he was doing everything she had expected.

Cruelty.

Duty.

Torran de Serreaux would do nothing less.

When he was finished, Andia returned to the hearth and sat next to Aeron, who was drowsy from the heat. She refused to look at Torran any longer, instead choosing to stare off into the great hall as if wishing herself off into another world, while Lady Penden stood there and worried. In fact, it was too much for her to take, so she went over to the hearth and stood in front of Andia.

"Please, my lady," she begged softly. "Let me take you to a chamber where you may dry off and rest. Surely you do not wish to remain like this all night."

Andia was cold, hungry, and exhausted, which made for a bad combination. She knew Lady Penden was only trying to be kind, but she didn't want kindness right now. She didn't want anything. She was a captive of Henry and, quite frankly, was resigned to it. She was afraid that any behavior that wasn't submissive might cause her and Aeron more trouble than they were already in.

"My lady," she said without looking at the woman. "I realize you are trying to be hospitable, but I have no need of your hospitality. Please go away and leave me alone."

Lady Penden looked as if she might weep. Deeply upset, she backed away from Andia, looking at the woman's defeated expression and knowing there was nothing more she could do. She couldn't force her, and Andia had already made it quite clear that she didn't want help. Verging on tears, she quit the hall as her husband watched her go sadly.

That didn't sit well with him.

"Torran," he said, "I am only going to say this once, but I feel that I must. I realize you are doing your duty, but have you considered the deeper implications of this task?"

Torran had no idea what he was talking about. "Deeper implications, my lord?"

Lord Penden nodded faintly. "Aye," he said, gesturing toward Andia. "That young woman is the daughter, and sister, of an earl. She is a noblewoman of great breeding. I knew her father, and his mother was a Baldwin, a descendant of the House of Flanders. He was related to Queen Matilda, wife of the Duke of Normandy. That makes Lady Andia a distant cousin to Henry. You do know that, don't you?"

Torran looked at him with surprise. "I did not."

"Henry did not mention it?"

Torran shook his head. "Nay," he admitted. "But it makes sense now that he was so distressed by Ashford's change in loyalty, especially since the Dictum of Kenilworth came about."

Lord Penden knew very well what he was talking about. "The decree that allowed for de Montfort supporters to keep their lands if they paid hefty fines," he said. Then he shook his head. "That was not meant for St. Albans. He is a cousin. Even a king should be able to trust family."

"And if he cannot, then he must punish them."

"Destroy them, is more like it."

That was all news to Torran. He'd been around Henry for a few years and never heard anything about the Earl of Ashford being a distant cousin. But it did explain why Henry's orders for Ashford had been so absolute.

Ruin the castle.

Bring me prisoners.

Truthfully, he felt rather peeved for not knowing that very key fact, and it was difficult not to feel like an idiot.

"If I remember my history correctly, Queen Matilda was a descendant of Charles the Great," he said. " Charles le magne ."

Lord Penden nodded. "Indeed, she was," he said, looking at the woman and her brother huddled by the hearth. "Great blood flows through them, Torran. Though that should not make a difference in the way you treat them, you should be aware all the same. More than likely, they have more ancient royal blood in them than Henry does."

Considering Lady Andia looks like a queen, that is not surprising .

That was Torran's first thought. It was on the tip of his tongue and, thank God, he didn't say what he was thinking. But it did make him rethink allowing Lady Andia to make decisions about her health, remaining in wet clothing as she was. It wasn't the fact that she had ancient blood in her, or the fact that her beauty had him increasingly interested, but that she was a cousin to the king. He didn't want the woman getting sick and dying, because it would be his fault.

That strong, stubborn woman with the golden eyes.

Aye, that changed things a bit.

Without another word to Lord Penden, he went over to the hearth where Aeron was now sleeping on his sister as she sat against the stone next to it. Her sopping cloak was spread out in front of it, steaming into the hall, and around them, servants were starting to bring in supper. Rochester soldiers were coming in from the outside, and soon it would be noisy in the hall and impossible to sleep.

He was going to tell her so.

"Lady Andia," he said, "they are preparing to serve supper in the hall and soon it will be full of drinking, shouting men. You cannot sleep here tonight."

Andia heard him but refused to look at him. "Then put us in the vault," she said. "We are prisoners, after all. That is where we belong."

"I am not going to put you in the vault."

"We are captives. That is where captives belong."

"Why are you being so stubborn when someone is trying to show you some consideration?"

She did look at him then. "'Tis not stubbornness, I assure you," she said. "I am simply obeying your wishes. Prisoners do not ask for special consideration."

He resisted an urge to roll his eyes at her because she was most definitely being mulish. "You are wet and undoubtedly uncomfortable," he said. "Lady Penden was being quite kind to you, and you were rude in return."

"She shouldn't be speaking to a prisoner, anyway."

Torran sighed heavily. "I will again ask you why you are being so stubborn."

"Because I am a captive. How else should I be?"

"Captives are compliant."

"How am I not being compliant?" she said. "I asked for my bindings restored. I am sitting here where you told us to sit."

"That is not what I meant."

She was finished speaking to him. Standing up, which made Aeron fall backward because he'd been sleeping on her, she went straight to Lord Penden, who was still standing near the door.

"My lord," she greeted him. "I know you and my father were friends, but since you know he turned against Henry to support de Montfort, I am certain you do not wish to acknowledge your friendship with him, and I accept that. Thanks to his actions, however, my brother and I are now prisoners of Henry. Will you please have one of your soldiers escort us to the vault?"

Lord Penden looked at her with a mixture of sympathy and disappointment. He could see Torran coming up behind her and, in all matters, knew that he needed to defer to the knight, but before him was the daughter of a man he'd known for years. It was true that Anselm had decided to support de Montfort, but it was also true that Penden wasn't a rabid supporter of the Crown. He'd thought—privately, of course—that de Montfort's idea for government had some merit, but he wasn't willing to risk generations of his family's position over it.

And he wasn't willing to condemn a young woman for her father's actions.

"Do you remember my daughter, Lady Andia?" he asked, completely avoiding her request. "Desiderata was her name. You remind me of her, in fact. She had your strength. She married last year, if you had not heard."

Andia shook her head. "I had not heard, my lord," she said. "And I do remember her. She was very kind to me when we visited."

"She died in childbirth last month," Penden said bluntly, the warmth in his eyes fading at the memory. "I have lost my daughter and you have lost your father. I understand something about grief, my lady, and mayhap that is why Lady Penden wished to help you so much. She no longer has a daughter to assist."

Andia lost some of her stubbornness as Lord Penden shared his tragedy with her. In fact, she could see the terrible agony in the man's eyes as he spoke of his daughter, a girl that Andia had only met a couple of times, but who had been very sweet during those encounters. Andia was a woman of deep feeling and was quite sympathetic to the man's grief.

"I am so very sorry to hear that, my lord," she said, the hardness gone from her voice. "I did not know."

Lord Penden tried to smile again. "I know," he said. "I simply thought you should know why my wife was so eager to assist you. Desi was our only daughter and Olivia has felt the loss deeply."

"I can understand that," Andia said, sounding much more like herself and not like the hard, stubborn woman she'd been portraying. "I did not mean to be rude to Lady Penden."

Lord Penden's dark eyes twinkled. "Then you would do her a great kindness by allowing her to dote on you as she would have doted on Desi and her child," he said. "I would consider it a great favor if you would allow my wife to tend to you while you are here."

Andia hesitated a moment, turning to look at Torran, who was standing a few feet away. He was watching her carefully to see what she was going to decide, more than likely expecting her to remain stubborn. As much as Andia wanted to, the truth was that she couldn't refuse two grieving parents.

"If Sir Torran will allow it, then I will go to her," she said quietly before turning to Torran and holding out her hands. "Will you please releasing my bindings?"

Torran's gaze lingered on her a moment before he reached out and untied the ropes. Andia watched him, his lowered head, studying the man's face at close range as he focused on her bindings. He had very dark hair, shaggy and wavy, and the longest eyelashes she had ever seen. His jaw was set, square and unmovable, and he was sporting a few days' worth of beard growth. If he hadn't been her enemy, she would have thought him handsome.

Very .

But there was no use in thinking that.

He was her jailor and nothing more.

"Come with me," Lord Penden said once the bindings fell away from her wrists. "Torran, you will come also. I want you to see that I am not helping the lady escape, but genuinely taking her to my wife for care. I believe Henry will be pleased with that. Come!"

He was waving a hand at Torran, who dutifully followed the man out of the great hall and into the rain. Andia wasn't wearing her cloak, having left it back in the hall, but she was soaked through anyway, so a little rain didn't matter. Lord Penden took her into Rochester's enormous keep where he could already hear his wife as she called to one of the servants. When he finally located her near the door that led out to the kitchens, Lady Penden was quite surprised to see that he'd brought Andia along.

But also quite pleased.

The evening, for Andia, was about to get interesting.