Free If Love Dares Enough by Anna Markland Page A

courage failed me. Satisfied?”
    “Hmph!”
    He strode off and she collapsed to the ground, abject fear and glimmering hope warring within her. Brigantia came lumbering out from the house and licked away her tears.
    ***
    Hugh sat panting in the rowboat, his heart beating a thousand times faster than it should, the touch of Devona’s palm still burning his skin. He turned to his brother and said with a grin, “She has beautiful raven hair, Antoine. Green eyes and raven hair. May God save me!”
    Antoine smiled and patted him on the back. “God save you indeed with that idiotic grin! Put your shirt back on, little brother.”
    Hugh took the dry garment from his brother’s hand and donned it. The oarsmen threw blankets around their grateful shivering seigneurs .
    “I didn’t think to bring blankets. Thank you,” Antoine gasped.
    “You’re landlubbers, milords . We’re men of the sea who know the value of blankets. Now rest in the bottom of the boat, regain your strength and we’ll get you back safely to Kingston Gorse.”
    Hugh gazed up at the darkening sky as he lay huddled in the boat, shivering, the blanket clutched tightly around him, and noticed for the first time in his life how many stars populated the heavens. Exhaustion claimed him and he dozed.
    ***
    The Norman family at Kingston Gorse soon had them sitting by a roaring fire, Hugh and Antoine outfitted with dry clothing.
    “Sir Stephen,” Antoine said, “We’re obliged to you for your assistance. As your overlord, it’s incumbent on me to give you some explanation as to what we’re about at my brother’s manor at Melton.”
    “If it involves getting rid of Renouf de Maubadon, I’m in full support,” the lord of Kingston Gorse asserted. “The man is a disgrace to Normandie.”
    The brothers exchanged glances as Antoine went on. “However, our actions against him will involve removing his wife and her family from his abusive control. This could put us at odds with His Majesty.”
    Sir Stephen was pensive for a while then stated, “Sometimes men of true worth must follow their conscience. I’ll help you as much as I can, though I won’t put my family at risk.”
    “ Merci, we can’t ask for more,” Hugh said, grasping the man’s hand. “If we may impose upon your hospitality this night, we’ll need the rowboat again on the morrow.”
    Sir Stephen nodded. “Of course. My honour. There’s another low tide an hour after dawn. It would perhaps be easier than night-time reconnoitering?”
    “Again, we’re obliged to you, Sir Stephen.”
    The following day, the Norman provided Hugh and Antoine with torches of flattened saplings bound together and soaked in beeswax, as well as a tinderbox with flint, steel and charcloth. The oarsmen wrapped the materials in an oiled cloth and stowed them with the blankets. The first grey streaks of dawn were lighting the sky as the quartet set off once more for Melton Beach. This time they were shod and wore gambesons over their shirts.
    The heavy clouds didn’t bode good weather and the gentle zephyr of the previous evening had changed to a cold, brisk wind that whipped the waves into racing rollers. Antoine looked apprehensive.
    “It’s nothing to worry over, milord ,” one of the oarsmen reassured him. “Just a bit of a squall.”
    Antoine had retched several times before they pulled the rowboat up onto Melton beach. Once on shore, he recovered quickly and the two brothers hurried across the sand to the cave. At the foot of the ancient steps they unwrapped the torches and Hugh crouched to set about creating the spark with their tinderbox materials. After several fruitless tries, he lamented, “Look what happens when you allow servants to do everything for you. I used to be adept at this.”
    Antoine hunkered down beside him. “Let me try—ah— voilà! Vite!— blow on that spark on the charcloth.”
    Once they had the torches aflame, they held them aloft and squeezed through the small opening