Excerpt from By Possession

FROM CHAPTER ONE

Addis knew what he was expected to do, what his family honor demanded, what his stepbrother Simon would anticipate and try to thwart. But he found that he had no taste for it. He felt unbelievably weary, and bitter that his old world had not been awaiting his return. He had expected to simply step through the gate of his family's castle at Barrowburgh and have those years in the Baltic lands disappear. It would take all of the will he could summon just to hold on to what was left, let alone fight for what had been lost.

He walked toward Moira, feeling sour about the course forced on him. She saw him approach and did not rise. Perhaps she meant no insult, but it annoyed him nonetheless. Her mother's place in Bernard's household may have given her a lady's manner, but she was a bondwoman and should never forget her true place, which, at the moment, was certainly not in his chair.

The temptation to grab those brown locks and force her to kneel almost overwhelmed him. Only the memory of once being compelled to kneel himself stopped his hand. He forced down the rancor. His inner voice chastised that it had not arisen in reaction to her at all, but because of all the other insults and indignities to his person and status.

He looked pointedly at the chair. She flustered and rose. "You bid me wait here for you when we arrived," she explained. "It has been some hours, and the rushes on the floor are filthy."

They were filthy. The servants had grown slovenly with no lord or lady watching them. His first order had been that the entire manor be scrubbed and they hustled around now doing it.

He eased into the chair and she stood in front of him, with her arms in crossed over her chest as if she sought to hide it.

"You will stay here a few days until the boy grows accustomed to me," he said.

Her cheeks hollowed as she bit their insides. She had not liked his tone. At the moment, with Raymond's tales still weighing on him, he didn't give a damn.

"If it will help Brian, I suppose that I could do so, but my cottage is not far away."

"You will stay here."

"I will agree to it, but only for a few days."

Raymond had been right about her claims of freedom. It was best to have it out now. "Your agreement is not required. You will do it because I bid it, and you will do it as long as I say. When I have no more need of you here, you can return to your cottage."

Her color rose. "You have been gone many years and can be excused for misunderstanding how it is with me now. I am a freeholder of that house and property."

"You may hold that property, but you are not freeborn. Your mother was a bondwoman of these lands. When Bernard gave them to me, he gave you as well."

She visibly struggled to control her anger. Not a beautiful woman, but clearly spirited and her bright eyes made up for any deficiencies in her other features. As a youth he had never noticed the Moira’s eyes and spirit, but then his eyes had dwelled only on Claire.

"Sir Bernard freed my mother after you left. I was present and heard his words and he included me."

"Raymond told me you claim this. Are there any witnesses?"

"The priest. The woman Alice who served Claire. Me."

"Raymond says the priest is gone. Where is Alice?"

"She left. . .London I think. . .after Claire died. There were documents. I remember Bernard signing them. . ." She spoke disjointedly, verbalizing scattered thoughts and memories. "Perhaps Raymond has them."

"He did not speak as if he did."

She still looked angry, but also distraught. It would be an easy thing to accept her claim. After all, she had served him well even when she believed she had no obligation to do so. But something rebelled at the notion of releasing her, and not just his resolve to hold on to what little was still his. Raymond had said she planned to leave the estate. She was all that was left of his old world. He would not permit yet another part of it to disappear.

Her arms unfolded and her fists clenched at her sides. "Ask in the village what I am, who I am. Everyone knows."

"Everyone knows your mother lived in Bernard's keep and slept in Bernard's bed. Everyone knows that she lived like a lady and that her daughter was treated like Bernard's own. But that is not the same thing as having the bonds of one's birth broken."

"You are calling me a liar."

"Nay, I am calling you my bondwoman. Even if Bernard spoke thus while he died, it is not legal without witnesses and documents."

Her eyes glinted magnificently. "Is this the thanks I get?"

"You have my gratitude, although you did not give Brian care for my sake. For Claire's perhaps, or maybe for your own, but not for mine. I was dead. Remember?"

"I find myself wishing you had remained so!"

"Oddly enough, so do I. Now go and find the boy, and tell the women to prepare a chamber for you both. A man will take you back to the cottage later so you can get whatever you need for yourself and him."

She began walking away, stiff backed and furious. He remembered Raymond's predatory look. Raymond was an old friend, but he knew the man's way of handling women, and he guessed that this one had been resisting his coercions for years. Perhaps that was why she sought to leave.

"Raymond will be staying for the midday meal," he said. "You will sing for him."

She froze in mid stride, and turned her head slightly so he could see her profile. "Even bondwomen have rights," she said sharply, her visible eye sparkling like clear water reflecting sunlight. "In this I am not my mother's daughter. Do not expect me to whore for your brother, or for any other lord or knight."

The message was unmistakable. Do not expect me to whore for you. No doubt this attractive, voluptuous woman of uncertain status had fought off her share of men of every degree, so it was not really a presumptuous assumption.

As it happened it was also an accurate one, but he knew that he had given no indication of it. While enslaved he had learned to hide his desires as surely as he had learned to bury his hopes. She could not know that images of having her in bed had been forming since he walked into her humble cottage.

"Bondwomen have rights, but they also have obligations for which they are paid with protection. You will sing for him, but at my command, and he will understand what it means. After today he will not bother you again."

She turned and faced him squarely, as she had in the cottage and again when he approached her a few minutes ago in this hall.

Her gaze did not appear shocked or insolent now, but familiar and knowing, as if she were accustomed to seeing the scarred barbarian every day, and knew him far too well to find him at all remarkable or frightening.

And, during that moment while their eyes met, Addis did not feel like a stranger in his own homeland for the first time since setting foot back in England.

By Possession, copyright © 2000 Madeline Hunter

books index  |  top  |  buy the book