and will one day inherit my uncle’s manor as he has no children of his own. I’m happy with my lot. But I would very much like to know who fathered me, and why he didn’t marry my mother as he’d promised. Surely, that’s understandable, my lord?’
Sir Gilbert looked into Roger’s eyes, blue clashing with blue. ‘Didn’t your mother give you a reason why she never married your father?’ he countered.
Roger hesitated. ‘No, and I can’t understand it. She was of noble birth, and extremely beautiful. I see no reason why she should have been rejected.’ He sighed. ‘She said only that circumstances prevented it. I assume she meant the man was already married. He must have duped her.’
‘I see. How old did you say you are?’
‘Three-and-twenty.’
‘And did your mother never marry anyone else?’
‘No. She insisted she couldn’t love anyone except my father, and so she would have none other for a husband. Besides which, everyone knew she was a “fallen woman”.’ Roger’s jaw tightened at the thought of how some people had treated his mother on account of this when to all intents and purposes she’d been lured into someone’s bed under false pretences and left with the consequences. He added, ‘I was proof of that. We lived with my uncle, and he brought me up until I was sent away to board at the age of ten.’
Sir Gilbert was silent for a long time. Finally he said, ‘I’m sorry, Sir Roger, I don’t think I can help you. Although you have something of the look of a Presseille, you could be the by-blow of any one of my four brothers, who are all dead. It was a long time ago. Can you not be happy with what you have achieved for yourself? These things are often best forgotten and after all, you’ve survived for twenty-three years without a father. You don’t need him now.’
Sir Roger swallowed hard. He knew Sir Gilbert was holding something back, but wouldn’t force him to speak against his will. His pride forbade it. ‘Very well, so be it. I thank you for your time and apologise for intruding upon you. I shall, as you say, have to be content with what I have.’ He stood up and bowed curtly, before turning to leave.
‘Wait! Won’t you stay as our guest for a few days? It’s the least I can do when you have come so far especially to see me.’
Roger hesitated. Perhaps there were others here who would know more, if only he could make them talk to him. That thought settled the matter. ‘Thank you. I’d like that.’
‘Excellent. I look forward to seeing you later then.’ Sir Gilbert seemed relieved, although why, Roger wasn’t sure.
It didn’t matter though. He was here now and he’d make the most of his time at Idenhurst. He bowed again, and left the hall without a backward glance.
Jake Precy woke in a panic, hopelessly tangled up in his duvet. With a muttered oath he twisted and turned until he’d managed to extricate himself, then flung the clinging material away. He stilled. The silence in Ashleigh Cottage was oppressive, unbroken apart from the hooting of an owl. And the bedroom was hot and airless even though it was only February.
‘Christ Almighty!’
He put up a hand and dragged his fingers through his tangled hair. Images crowded into his mind, flashing by with lightning speed, then all of a sudden they joined into a coherent sequence and he remembered his dream clearly.
He’d been on a huge horse, riding for what seemed like forever, saddle sore and bone weary. Then he’d met a woman and she had joined him, sitting behind him with her soft hands at his waist. A shadowy figure, he couldn’t remember her features, but he knew by his body’s reaction that he’d found her beautiful. Desirable. Her very nearness had made him forget his aches and pains, and her scent lingered in his nostrils, tantalising him with overtones of lavender.
‘Damn it all …’
Jake gritted his teeth and tried to steer his thoughts in another direction, but his body wouldn’t
Sir Gilbert looked into Roger’s eyes, blue clashing with blue. ‘Didn’t your mother give you a reason why she never married your father?’ he countered.
Roger hesitated. ‘No, and I can’t understand it. She was of noble birth, and extremely beautiful. I see no reason why she should have been rejected.’ He sighed. ‘She said only that circumstances prevented it. I assume she meant the man was already married. He must have duped her.’
‘I see. How old did you say you are?’
‘Three-and-twenty.’
‘And did your mother never marry anyone else?’
‘No. She insisted she couldn’t love anyone except my father, and so she would have none other for a husband. Besides which, everyone knew she was a “fallen woman”.’ Roger’s jaw tightened at the thought of how some people had treated his mother on account of this when to all intents and purposes she’d been lured into someone’s bed under false pretences and left with the consequences. He added, ‘I was proof of that. We lived with my uncle, and he brought me up until I was sent away to board at the age of ten.’
Sir Gilbert was silent for a long time. Finally he said, ‘I’m sorry, Sir Roger, I don’t think I can help you. Although you have something of the look of a Presseille, you could be the by-blow of any one of my four brothers, who are all dead. It was a long time ago. Can you not be happy with what you have achieved for yourself? These things are often best forgotten and after all, you’ve survived for twenty-three years without a father. You don’t need him now.’
Sir Roger swallowed hard. He knew Sir Gilbert was holding something back, but wouldn’t force him to speak against his will. His pride forbade it. ‘Very well, so be it. I thank you for your time and apologise for intruding upon you. I shall, as you say, have to be content with what I have.’ He stood up and bowed curtly, before turning to leave.
‘Wait! Won’t you stay as our guest for a few days? It’s the least I can do when you have come so far especially to see me.’
Roger hesitated. Perhaps there were others here who would know more, if only he could make them talk to him. That thought settled the matter. ‘Thank you. I’d like that.’
‘Excellent. I look forward to seeing you later then.’ Sir Gilbert seemed relieved, although why, Roger wasn’t sure.
It didn’t matter though. He was here now and he’d make the most of his time at Idenhurst. He bowed again, and left the hall without a backward glance.
Jake Precy woke in a panic, hopelessly tangled up in his duvet. With a muttered oath he twisted and turned until he’d managed to extricate himself, then flung the clinging material away. He stilled. The silence in Ashleigh Cottage was oppressive, unbroken apart from the hooting of an owl. And the bedroom was hot and airless even though it was only February.
‘Christ Almighty!’
He put up a hand and dragged his fingers through his tangled hair. Images crowded into his mind, flashing by with lightning speed, then all of a sudden they joined into a coherent sequence and he remembered his dream clearly.
He’d been on a huge horse, riding for what seemed like forever, saddle sore and bone weary. Then he’d met a woman and she had joined him, sitting behind him with her soft hands at his waist. A shadowy figure, he couldn’t remember her features, but he knew by his body’s reaction that he’d found her beautiful. Desirable. Her very nearness had made him forget his aches and pains, and her scent lingered in his nostrils, tantalising him with overtones of lavender.
‘Damn it all …’
Jake gritted his teeth and tried to steer his thoughts in another direction, but his body wouldn’t
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