‘Very well, Prior Hubert. But what–?’

The prior lifted a silencing hand to the opening. ‘Calm, daughter. I seek to help you. Do you have faith in your father’s captain? Is he an honourable man?’ The prior observed how intently the captain awaited Gwenn Herevi’s verdict. He had open blue eyes and they were filled with the most blatant longing, and a pinch of fear. Fear of what? Rejection?

‘Trust Ned?’ Gwenn sounded indignant. ‘Of course I do! Ned has more honour and nobility in his little finger than some great lords have in their entire bodies.’

Pleased, Prior Hubert inclined his tonsured head. He was beginning to see a light at the end of the tunnel, and tentatively groped towards it. ‘You are confident that...er...Ned has your best interests at heart, my daughter?’

‘I am.’

‘Do you like him?’ Prior Hubert was a realist. Bastard as Gwenn Herevi was, her chance of finding happiness had been low while her father lived. And now, with Jean St Clair killed, she would have little to look forward to. A flush had washed over the captain’s cheeks. He was gnawing his lower lip, and his eyes were pinned on Gwenn with an adoration Prior Hubert deemed best reserved for one’s patron saint. On second thoughts, perhaps not. Ned’s look of longing was more carnal than chaste. The prior’s feeling was that the lad loved the girl and would see them all safely to their relatives.

God in his wisdom had directed the young couple’s feet to St Félix-in-the-Wood. If the prior saw them married, Gwenn Herevi would bear a new name. He could help her wipe out her parents’ sins, and start afresh. But though the prior was eager for the matter to be neatly resolved, he would not marry them if Gwenn Herevi had no liking for the lad. Patiently he waited for her answer. Her dark brows, he saw, had lowered. She had pride, considering she was a bastard, and she resented being manipulated.

‘Like Ned, Father?’ Her chin tightened. She might be a pretty and dainty maid, but Prior Hubert could see she could be trouble if she put her mind to it. She threw a smile at Ned, whose cheeks were as red as a poppy. ‘I like him very much, but when will you let us out of this dismal hole, Father?’

‘I apologise for the poor quality of the accommodation,’ Prior Hubert responded dryly, ‘but I fear it would be incautious to release you sooner than dawn tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow? No, Father! We can’t spend a night in here! Have pity on my sister. And what about Philippe?’

‘I’ll release you now, on one condition.’

‘Anything,’ Gwenn said.

Prior Hubert drew in a breath. ‘I’ll release you if you’ll marry this young man.’

She gaped. ‘M...marry Ned?’

‘Sir Jean would not rest in peace, if I permitted you to chase about the Duchy with–’

‘But Ned told you, Papa commanded him to take us north!’

‘I remember. And that merely strengthens my resolve to have you married. He would not have entrusted his children to this young man, if he did not think him worth–’

‘But, Father,’ honesty compelled Ned to butt in at this point, ‘Sir Jean did trust me, but he would not countenance an alliance.’

Gwenn was lost in a tangle of emotions too entwined for Solomon to unravel, but she did know she felt strong affection for Ned. Perhaps she did love him. At any rate, she did not want to lose him as she had lost everyone else in her life. After all that had happened that morning, she could barely think, but if she married Ned, she would always have a friend. And she must get out of this cell...

She thrust Ned aside. ‘I agree with you, Prior Hubert. I’ll marry Ned, if he’ll have me.’

‘But, mistress,’ Ned objected, ‘remember how Sir Jean–’

‘Not another word, Ned. I’m happy to marry you.’

‘B...but–’

‘I’m going to my devotions, my children.’ The prior could see that Ned’s objections might take some time to overrule. ‘And while I am gone, consider my proposal.’

‘Proposal!’ Ned blurted. ‘It’s rank bribery! You know Mistress Gwenn wants her sister out of here.’

Prior Hubert’s eyes were cool. ‘Bribery? No, my son. Prudence? Perhaps. Consider how Mistress Gwenn might be treated by relatives less tolerant, and...er...partial than her father.’

‘I don’t need time to consider,’ Gwenn said, with a sidelong glance at the silent Katarin. ‘I’ll marry Ned this instant. Only, please, get us out of this pit.’

Prior Hubert relented. ‘Very well. Brothers Dominig and Marzin will fetch sledgehammers. Stand clear of the wall.’

‘We will,’ Gwenn smiled. ‘Thank you, Father.’ Prior Hubert walked off.

‘Mistress Gwenn, you cannot marry me.’

‘I can.’

‘No. It...it’s disparagement, mistress.’

‘Disparagement...pooh.’ Gwenn dismissed disparagement with a click of her fingers.

‘It is disparagement,’ Ned said. ‘Your father would not be pleased. Don’t you recall how angry he was when–?’

‘I remember, Ned. But Papa is dead. Circumstances have changed. Besides, he trusted you. He charged you with seeing us to Ploumanach.’

‘I’ll see you safely there without you having to marry me.’ Ned knew such an opportunity would never present itself again, but he could not take advantage of Gwenn’s vulnerability. His skin scorched. ‘You know what I feel for you, Mistress Gwenn. But you are safe with me. I’ll not touch you.’

‘Shut up, Ned. The monks are about to break this cell open. I’ve said that I’m marrying you, and there’s an end to it.’

Ned swallowed. ‘You’ll hate me...’

She laid a hand on his. ‘Hate you? Never. I need you to marry me.’

‘You need me to marry you?’ Ned stammered, struck by this original idea.

‘Think, Ned. Prior Hubert is right. If you don’t marry me, what kind of reception will I have when we reach Ploumanach? When I arrive, a bastard and unwed, tongues will wag.’

‘I’ll spear the first man who besmirches your honour!’

‘In this world, bastard daughters have no honour,’ Gwenn pointed out gently. ‘Hear me out. I don’t know if my relatives are rich or not. It might be difficult for them when I arrive with Katarin and Philippe both needing support. We’ll be the poor relations, for we’ll have no money. Do you think my kin will greet us with open arms?’

‘They’ll take you in,’ Ned said, sounding less than sure.

‘They’ll take the children in. But me?’ Gwenn shook her head. ‘I’ll be an embarrassment. They’ll want rid of me. Either they’ll compel me to marry some pock-marked merchant I’d have to be grateful to the end of my days,’ she gave a strained laugh, ‘or else they’ll force me into a nunnery, where all unwanted women go. Do you want that for me, Ned?’

Ned stared at her, his heart too full for words.

‘So if you don’t mind, Ned, I’d rather marry you.’

‘You don’t love me.’

She hesitated, and paid him the compliment of admitting to the truth. ‘I like you, very much. I feel more for you than I have for any man. But love... I don’t know what love is. I admit that I’m marrying you to get us out of this hole. I’m marrying you because apart from the children you’re all I’ve got, and I can’t bear the thought of losing you too. Perhaps I’m using you as a prop, I can’t say. But I do like you, Ned. I’m very fond of you, and I trust I will learn to love you.’

‘I’ll care for you, mistress.’

A warm smile lit her eyes. ‘I know. And don’t you think you should start by calling me by my first name?’

‘Gwenn,’ Ned breathed. Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed it reverently and pressed his burning cheek to her cool palm.

Chapter Twenty

Alan recognised where he was. The crossroads was a bow-shot ahead, round a curve in the road, which meant that Kermaria was less than two miles away. The long run had improved Firebrand’s temper. Once the courser had worked off his excess energy, he was a delight to ride. It was a beautiful morning with bright sunshine and not too much wind. Alan could smell the sea. Contentedly he trotted along. In his pouch sat a letter sealed with the Duke’s seal authorising him to carry out his survey, but today Alan felt free of his responsibilities. It seemed a long while since he had taken any time for himself, and he was enjoying it. It was good to be away from the court for once, and he was looking forwards to seeing his cousin. He could not be certain that Ned would have stayed at Kemaria, but he thought it likely.