Page 21 of The Raven and the Rose
The rain had soaked entirely through their clothing hours before and was now doing its damnedest to seep into their bones. The horses and the riders were all weary, hungry, and low in spirit when they finally rode into the yard of Selby Abbey. There was such a crush of men and horses there ahead of them that they were immediately alerted. They dismounted and sheltered their horses for a few minutes and saw that the travelers were mostly King’s men on their way to York.
Roseanna pulled the velvet cap low and kept her head down. Then she saw a badge with a raven on it and knew some of the men must be Ravenspur’s. “We cannot stay here,” she told Bryan desperately.
“’Tis filled anyway. I doubt if we’ll make it to York tonight. The gates would be closed even if my mount could make it.”
“Here’s money. You’ll have to buy it some food and let it rest a little. Then we’ll press on until we come to an inn. Zeus will have to wait. I don’t want any of these men to recognize me.”
She leaned against one of the abbey’s outbuildings, knowing she had never been so cold and miserable in her life. Was it only yesterday that running away had seemed such a high adventure? In less than twenty-four hours it had turned into a nightmare. The very elements were against them. She shook herself mentally. Thinking that way brought defeat. A thing could be savored all the more if it was hard won.
When they led their mounts from the abbey courtyard, the light that was left in the day was fading quickly. Roseanna wondered if Sir Bryan was feeling as dispirited as she herself was. They galloped the Great North Road in silence and occasionally other riders passed them by at a faster gallop. Just outside York was a large hostelry known as The Fighting Cocks. They stabled their horses and paid for feed, then gave them a good rubdown before they even thought of themselves. The stables were filled to capacity, and they knew the inn would be crowded. The innkeeper shook his head at their request for rooms but took pity on their drenched and sorry condition and told them they could get warm in the common room and probably get a bite to eat. The common room was busy with men eating and drinking, dicing, and laughing. The atmosphere was thick with smoke and cooking odors, but it was dry and warm.
“Are you all right, love?” asked Bryan, his face pale with dark circles beneath his eyes.
She nodded her head, too weary to speak.
“I’ll go and get food for us. I’ll try to push my way to the front of the crowd.”
“I’ll sit here in the corner,” she murmured wearily, hoping no one would notice that she was a female. Her eyelids began to close in the smoky warmth. Suddenly an outside door was thrown open, and half a dozen fully armed men strode into the room. The tallest man swept off his cloak. The rain ran from it and pooled onto the floor. Roseanna shrank back in alarm. It was Ravenspur!
Six men-at-arms surrounded Sir Bryan as he approached her with a steaming dish of mutton stew.
“Sir Bryan,” boomed Ravenspur, “I thank you for escorting Lady Roseanna to me. I see you have kept her safe.”
Sir Bryan opened his mouth, saw the mailed fists of the men-at-arms poised over their sword hilts, and stammered, “Y-yes, my lord.”
Roseanna, looking for all the world like a small drowned cat, took a defiant step forward. “He was not escorting me to you, Ravenspur!”
“Really?” he asked in a deceptively mild tone, his heavy brows slanting upward. “What other explanation could there be, pray? Think well on your answer, for his life may depend on it.”
Her mind flew about for an answer that would absolve Bryan from Ravenspur’s vengeance. “He was escorting me to the King at York. I am going to beg Edward to dissolve our betrothal,” she said triumphantly, pleased at her own quick thinking.
He bowed so low, it was a mockery. “I shall escort you to Edward myself.” He saw her fatigue. “I think tomorrow will be soon enough. We’ll take rooms here.”
“There are none left, my lord,” ventured Sir Bryan, swallowing hard.
“Nonsense,” said Roger affably. “Thank you again for escorting my bride. I will look after her now. Innkeeper, I’ll need three of your better rooms.” He turned to Sir Bryan. “You don’t mind sharing with my men?”
The young knight swallowed hard again and murmured, “Thank you, my lord.”
They were ushered upstairs by the innkeeper’s wife. The men-at-arms went into one room, and Ravenspur entered Roseanna’s room with her. He swept the room with a critical eye, then fished a gold coin from his belt and gave it to the woman.
“My lady will need a hot bath. Build up the fire, and I’d be obliged if you could find her a warm bedgown and a girl to help her dry her hair. When you bring supper, fetch us each a bottle of your best wine.”
“Yes, my lord.” She bobbed as if it were her great privilege to serve him.
Roseanna resented his high rank that made innkeepers fawn over him. Yet in truth she was grateful for the warmth. A burly servant entered and dragged a wooden tub into the room; then a serving maid brought a flannelette bedgown and a pile of towels. Roseanna stood silently while the tub was filled with buckets of hot water. She longed to sink down before the blazing fire, but her pride would not allow her to unbend before Ravenspur.
He glanced at her stiff figure and admonished, “Get out of those wet clothes.”
Her eyes blazed. “I am not witless, Lord Ravenspur. When you have removed your unwanted presence, I shall do so.”
He refused to be goaded by her tone and said pleasantly enough, “Remember, I am just next door if I can be of any service, my lady.”
“Yes. You may serve me by seeing what is delaying my dinner.” She paused for emphasis, then said, “Be sure to have them knock when they bring it, for I shall bar the door the moment you are through it!”
He bowed mockingly, his eyes dancing as if they held secret knowlege of which she was ignorant. He admired her defiant spirit, yet at the same time he was determined to give her a lesson this night that she would not soon forget. She flouted all the rules and dared much with him. Although this amused him, he decided to show her he was the master here.
A great sigh escaped her lips as she lowered the bar into place. For a weary moment she leaned against the heavy doorjamb with weak legs. Finally she rallied the last of her strength to move to the fire and strip off her wet clothes. Damn the man to hell for thwarting her and Bryan’s plans! Ravenspur was the author of all her misery, she concluded as she peeled off her damp stockings and climbed into the wooden tub.
