Anne Herries - The Lord's Forced Bride

The times might not be as lawless in King Henry VII’s England as they had once been, but there were still beggars roaming the country, and sometimes bands of robbers who might attack the unwary. Lord Melford had made certain that his daughter would be shielded from any such attack.

Catherine felt excited to be starting her journey. Her grandfather, Owen Davies, had given Catherine her palfrey for her last birthday, and it was a spirited beast, but well trained. She had called it Frosty because of its pure white coat, and loved it dearly.

It felt good to be out riding with her brother and their attendants, and as they passed through the countryside near Melford people came to the side of the road to wave and bow their heads respectfully. Robert of Melford was respected as an honest, fair man; his people liked working for him, because he was a generous master and treated them with the respect he showed to others. This reflected in the way they treated his family, and the women waved to Catherine as she passed, wishing her a safe journey. She smiled and waved back to them, her feeling of excitement growing all the time, though she was also a little nervous, because she had never been further than Shrewsbury in her life.

Once she had left her home far behind, her nerves began to settle and she felt a return of the excitement she had experienced at the start. Her disappointment at leaving her mother and sister behind was fading as she wondered what it would be like at court. Her mother had told her that some of the ladies would be wearing wonderful clothes and jewels, and her brother had some beautiful things in his saddlebags that Lady Melford had told her she might borrow for her court appearance. She knew that she was to have some new gowns when she reached town, for her mother had written some two weeks ago to order them from a dressmaker she patronised when in London, and Catherine would be fitted when she arrived. It was all so very exciting that she had begun to wish the journey over.

It was midday when they stopped to take some refreshment at an inn her father had recommended. Messengers had gone ahead and the landlord came out, bowing and smiling as he welcomed Lord Melford’s son and daughter into his house. Hot soup and fresh bread were provided, which were washed down with ale. The drink was very strong and Catherine took only a few sips, though she enjoyed the chicken broth.

They stopped only long enough to rest the horses, soon setting out again on the second stage of their journey. They would sleep at the house of one of Lord Melford’s friends that night and go on the next day. Catherine was used to riding distances of some leagues, for she had been to Shrewsbury a few times with her mother, but she had begun to think that she would be glad to reach their final stopping place for the day.

It was as they reached a narrow road that was bordered on two sides by dense trees that some men rushed out from the trees and tried to grab Harry’s horse. Taken by surprise, he was slow in drawing his weapon and the men dragged him from his mount. Catherine screamed and the armed servants rushed to assist Harry, but one of the ruffians held a dagger to his throat.

‘Come any nearer and he dies!’

‘Let him go!’ Catherine cried, jumping from her horse and rushing towards them. ‘You can gain nothing from harming him!’ Fear for her twin made her rush at the nearest man, throwing herself at him, kicking and punching him with her fists. ‘Let my brother go, I tell you!’

Some of the men-at-arms had dismounted and were hesitating, half-afraid to attack even though Catherine was still fighting valiantly. However, the sound of a bloodcurdling yell and the crack of a musket from behind the rogues made the one holding Harry jump as if startled, and in that instant Harry broke free and drew his sword. The men-at-arms set upon the rogues as soon as they saw that Harry no longer had a knife to his throat and a bloody battle ensued; in seconds two of the rogues lay dying on the ground and three more fled into the trees, where they were set upon by a roaring fury on his horse. He cut down two of them, and the third was pursued by the men-at-arms.

Catherine was shaking, trembling with fright. It had all happened so quickly and she had acted impulsively without a thought for her own safety. Harry drew her into his arms, comforting her as she burst into tears.

‘Hush, my dearest one,’ he soothed, stroking her hair. ‘You should not weep. It is all over and, thanks to you, I am still alive.’

Catherine shook her head, for she knew that her efforts would have been useless had that yell and musket fire not distracted the rogues.

‘It was not I that saved you…’ She looked towards the trees and saw that the newcomer had dismounted and was directing some of their servants to carry away the bodies of the dead. ‘It was this gentleman—’ Her breath caught as the man came towards them and she realised that she knew him. He was the man who had looked at her so boldly, making that outrageous suggestion to her in the village—the man who had paid her father a visit.

Harry turned to look. For a moment he stared at his saviour and then a grin broke over his handsome face. ‘Damn it, if you haven’t saved my life again, Andrew! What coincidence brought you here?’

‘Harry,’ Andrew replied and smiled oddly. ‘It was fortunate that I chanced this way at the right moment, for I am certain they meant to kill you.’

‘And they might have done had my brave sister not flown at them like a she-devil,’ Harry said, looking at Catherine with affection. ‘She had no thought for herself, but we are twins and I would give my life for her if need be.’

Andrew turned to look at Catherine. He knew her instantly, for her face had seldom been out of his mind these past weeks. However, she was far more richly dressed than she had been that day in Melford Village, and he understood that she was of good family.

‘Mistress,’ he said, inclining his head to her. ‘I am Andrew, Earl of Gifford, at your service. You were brave, if a trifle foolhardy. Those rogues would have thought nothing of slitting your throat—and that would have been a tragedy.’

Catherine’s face was pale, but there was pride in her eyes as she looked at him. ‘I would never stand by and see my brother murdered. They might take my life if they pleased, for I could not bear to live if he was so cruelly slain.’

Her twin put at an arm around her shoulder, ‘We are Catherine and Harry Melford, the first born of Lord Robert of Melford,’ Harry told Andrew. ‘Last time you helped me I was on a secret mission and we agreed not to exchange names, but this time we go to court. My sister is to be presented and I am bidden to attend Prince Arthur’s wedding.’

‘As am I,’ Andrew said. ‘We may as well journey together. There is safety in numbers, though I often travel alone—but your sister needs protection, and we cannot be sure that you will not be attacked by another band of rogues.’

‘I should be glad of your company,’ Harry replied. ‘Catherine, you must remount…’

‘Perhaps I may assist?’ Andrew moved towards her palfrey, which the groom had ready. He offered her his hand, and when she came to him, he placed one hand each side of her waist and tossed her up effortlessly. For a moment he stood gazing up at her as she took hold of her reins, his eyes dark with some emotion she could not read. ‘Can you ride, Mistress Melford? Your experience has not shocked you too much? I could take you up with me if you felt faint or ill at ease.’

‘I thank you kindly, sir,’ she replied, a faint blush in her cheeks, ‘but I am well able to ride my horse. I do thank you, though, for coming to help us. I shall be for ever grateful to you. My brother told me a gentleman had saved his life once before, and I believe that must have been you.’