by The Saxon
Indeed, Adelar felt so much contempt for Ranulf, surely he would think it would be a terrible fate to have to spend much time in the man’s company. That would make him have some sympathy for Endredi.
Bayard summoned Ranulf to his side and ordered him to show his wife how to ride, as soon as she was ready to learn.
“I shall be honored,” Ranulf gushed, obviously only too happy to have this small mark of a return to favor. “I shall begin this very afternoon, if she is willing.”
“Good,” Bayard said, very aware that Adelar had halted his mount to listen to the two men. He drew closer to Bayard as Ranulf rode ahead, a beaming smile on his lean face.
“Ranulf?” he questioned.
“I thought it best not to give Ranulf any more cause for annoyance,” Bayard replied, “at least for the moment.”
He grinned at his cousin, who nodded, his expression grim. “I suppose Endredi will understand that, even if she does not relish Ranulf for a teacher,” Adelar remarked.
“Oh? Why do you think she will not?”
“It was...something she said during the game.”
“Something?”
“She does not like him. She sees his covetous nature.”
“As do I. But I am surprised she spoke of him to you. She is not one to share her thoughts.”
“She warned me that it was unwise of me to make my dislike so obvious.”
“Do you think she is right?”
Adelar raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Ranulf knows how I feel. There would be no point to feign affection.”
“However, Cousin, I must agree with Endredi. Things may change rapidly, Adelar, if we go to battle. I have no desire to leave my lands to Ranulf, but there may be no help for it, so perhaps a little more respect might be warranted. Come, don’t look so angry. I think I would do better to appease Ranulf somewhat myself,” he finished ruefully. “That is why I asked him to teach Endredi. Or would you rather have that task?”
“No.”
“There—then I made a good decision. Tell me, Adelar, how does Endredi seem to you?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Would you say she is happy?”
“I have no idea. What do you think? She’s your wife.”
“I think she is somewhat homesick. I wish you would spend more time with her.”
Adelar frowned, and Bayard wondered if he had said too much. “Well, when you can. I’m sure Endredi will come to feel at home here soon enough.” He paused and heard the baying of the hounds. “Baldric’s loosed the dogs. Let us hunt and hope Ranulf gets lost again.”
* * *
“I won’t do it!” Ranulf glared at Ordella, who stood in their bower with her hands on her hips and her shoulders thrust forward.
“Don’t be a fool, Ranulf!” she said angrily. “This is precisely the opportunity we were speaking of. You simply ask Adelar to take your place. Tell him you hurt your foot hunting.”
“This is the first time in days that Bayard has given me any sign of his favor, and you expect me to give it away?”
“Are you forgetting that we have more to aim for than Bayard’s favor? Besides, what kind of task is this that he assigns you? There is no honor befitting your rank in being a riding master.”
“But he asked me,” Ranulf whined like a thwarted child.
“Are you a thane or a servant?” Ordella demanded.
One of their slaves, carrying fresh rushes, appeared at the entrance to their bower.
“Get out, oaf!” Ordella ordered harshly.
“You cannot speak to me that way!” Ranulf said.
“I wasn’t speaking to you. It was Olrith.”
Nonetheless, Ranulf continued to pout. “Bayard asked me,” he reiterated.
“I tell you, Bayard insults you with this request, although I believe you acted wisely,” Ordella lied. “You kindly agreed to do this thing so obviously beneath you, until you were injured.” She hesitated. “You were alone at some point on the hunt, were you not, so that no one will question your excuse?”
“Yes. They went into that thicket again and I got separated from the rest of them.”
In other words, he had gotten lost, Ordella thought with disgust. “Now you must regretfully ask Adelar to take your place.”
Ranulf sighed wearily. “Very well, I will do as you say.”
* * *
Adelar watched Ranulf limp away. Simpleton! He had finally gotten a chance to be of service to Bayard, and he had injured himself. At least Ranulf might not be so quick to demand responsibilities for a little while.
Adelar turned and walked toward the stable, telling himself he had agreed to take Ranulf’s place out of concern for Endredi. She did not like Bayard’s cousin and would surely welcome any replacement. Now that she knew he had not deserted her, it pleased him to think they could be friends. Friends, and nothing more.
He looked about the burh. It was a fine, warm day. The scent of the damp earth drifted to him on a slight breeze from the newly plowed fields. The growing grass added its own particular perfume to the air. When he entered the dim stables, a shaft of sunlight illuminated the bits of chaff and straw floating there. A horse whinnied, and Adelar went toward the mare, a gentle animal he thought would be perfect for Endredi.
He stroked the beast’s smooth head and whispered soft words of praise.
“Where is Ranulf?”
He spun around to see Endredi standing inside the door, her brow furrowed. “He hurt himself and regrets that he will be unable to give you a lesson. He asked me to take his place.”
Adelar smiled. Not the sardonic grin he gave the others, but the smile Endredi remembered. Happiness diffused through her, radiating from the secret place in her heart that was his alone.
But she must not allow such feelings. They were wrong. Sinful and shameful when she was married to another. Yet knowing that he had been prepared to kill Kendric to protect her had made her struggle to subdue her feelings all the more difficult.
Even when he was not before her, she could not rid herself of thoughts of Adelar. She could not look at Bayard without thinking that he stood between herself and the man she truly wanted. She feared she might be tempted to speak of her confused emotions to Adelar, or even Helmi, rather than keep them bottled up inside her.
Adelar was at this burh because he was his cousin’s trusted friend, and so he would surely remain here. She must learn to deal with his presence.
“If you would rather have another teacher,” he said quietly, coming toward her, “I will find you one.”
She knew the best course was to stay away from him, and yet at this moment she could not find it in her heart to tell Adelar to leave the stable. She shook her head wordlessly and watched while he saddled two horses, trying not to stare at his bare, muscular arms or his long, lean legs encased in breeches that hugged his thighs or the way his hair brushed against his broad shoulders.
At last he finished and led the way to the meadow.
“Shall we begin?” he said, his voice matter-of-fact, as if she were anybody. Or nobody.
Good. It would help her treat him as if he were anybody, or nobody. “Yes.”
“Put your foot in my hand and I shall boost you onto the horse. Grab hold there—” he pointed at the wide stiff part at the front of the saddle “—and swing your leg over the horse.”
He linked his hands and waited expectantly.
She paused uncertainly. “Where...how...?”
“You can put your hands on my shoulders first to steady yourself.”
She did, aware at once of the muscles beneath his tunic and her own rapidly beating heart. When he raised his hands, she moved her leg and she was in the saddle, uncomfortably high, she thought. At least the horse stood still.
Effortlessly and with catlike grace he swung onto his own mount beside her. “Now take your reins in your hands and hold them like this.”
He demonstrated, and she did her best to follow his example.
“Not so tight,” he admonished. “You grip with your knees.”
She glanced at his legs and taut muscles. Swallowing hard, she tried to concentrate on the reins.
“That’s better. Let’s try a walk. Just lift the reins a little higher, and the mare will understand.”
She did, and they walked slowly around the field. It took some time before she felt that she wasn’t about to slip off, or that her insides would never recover from the jostling.
Adelar halted his horse and began to instruct her in the way to signal a change of direction, taking hold of her hands to better teach her.
His touch was firm and his skin rough against hers, yet he was gentle, too. She felt the heat of a blush flooding her face, but she did not wish him to stop. She wanted to take his hand and press it to her lips.
When he was finished, he let go of her, then suddenly looked at her intently. “Bayard agrees that I should treat Ranulf with more respect. He appreciates your wisdom.”
“That pleases me,” she answered softly, her eyes downcast.
“You are making him happy, Endredi. He is fortunate to have you for his wife.”
She shifted uncomfortably. The mare mistook her action for a signal to gallop. Endredi’s shriek filled the air as the mare made straight for the brambles at the edge of the nearby wood.
Mercifully, the mare halted before colliding with the thorny bushes. Endredi clutched the saddle and drew in a deep shuddering breath as she realized that Adelar was beside her.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, dismounting quickly and coming to her side.
“No. However, I think the lesson should cease for the present,” she replied shakily.
He nodded and reached up to help her dismount. “I don’t know what you did, but the mare thought you wanted to go fast. Are you certain you are all right?”
“Yes.” She placed her hands on his strong forearms and slid from the saddle. He was close, so close that she could almost count each dark eyelash above his earnest eyes and feel the beating of his pulse within her own body.
“Good.” He smiled at her warmly, with affection and relief. She reddened, but couldn’t take her gaze from him.
Suddenly his expression changed and he pulled her into a break in the bushes, away from the meadow. “Endredi,” he said softly.
“Adelar,” she whispered. She felt as if she was treading on the thin ice of the river in winter and it had started to give way.
“Are you truly happy with Bayard?”
She prepared to speak, ready to lie again. Ready to remind him that she was wed to another. Ready to shut the gate of her prison.
But the look in his dark eyes! The longing, the desire—everything answered the feelings in her own heart, and she could only speak the truth. “I am as happy as I can ever be.”
“I am wretched, always seeing you and never being near you. Never being able to touch you, to kiss you...”
He bent his head toward hers, and she pulled away, the bonds of honor strong. “I am the wife of another. Please, say no more.”
He took her gently in his arms and held her, not so much as a lover but as a comforter who sought to share her pain. Who perhaps already did. She lay her face against his chest and allowed herself to feel his strength and warmth surrounding her.
“I am miserable, Endredi,” he said huskily. “Every moment I see you with Bayard fills me with pain.”
“There is nothing we can do.”
“Isn’t there?” He looked into her eyes, his own asking her a question that she had not dared to contemplate. Now, here, alone with him, it did not seem so wrong to give in to her passion. To be with him. To share their love and their desires.
There was a movement in the trees nearby. Startled, she looked over Adelar’s shoulder, peering into the woods. She stepped away from him briskly. “Get away from me,” she said loudly. “I shall tell Bayard what you sought to do.”
His face filled with shock and surprise.
“It is a good thing no one saw you,” she went on. “I shall keep this secret, because of Bayard’s regard for you. But I tell you this, Adelar, try to seduce me again, and I shall certainly tell my husband.”
With that, she marched away, leaving him staring after her.
“Adelar, what in God’s name did you think you were doing? Bayard would kill you if he knew!”
Adelar pivoted at Godwin’s words. “How long have you been spying on me?”
“Spying? I was doing nothing of the kind. I was simply walking through the woods trying to make up a song about larks and nightingales and instead I find you trying to defile Bayard’s wife!” Godwin frowned with dismay as he approached. “I thought better of you than that.”
Adelar tried not to look overly concerned or watch Endredi’s hasty departure. “Her horse bolted and she was frightened. I was only comforting her. She misunderstood.”
Godwin’s expression grew skeptical, and he shifted the cloak he carried from one hand to the other. “Comforting, Adelar? Who do you think you speak to? I know you too well. You should be thankful it was I who saw you, and not Ranulf.”
“Ranulf was supposed to be instructing her, but he hurt his foot.” Adelar shrugged. “I admit it was not a wise thing to do. Consider me warned—although you saw her response.”
“Yes. You should also be grateful she will say nothing to Bayard. If he thought you were doing anything other than comforting, he would never forgive you. Come, I will walk back with you.”
Adelar picked up the reins of the waiting horses. In the distance he could see Endredi disappearing inside the gate of the burh.
Godwin fell into step beside him. “She might decide to tell Bayard, after all,” he said thoughtfully.
“I do not think so.”
Godwin halted. “Did she see me? Were you really trying to seduce her? Were you succeeding? Is that why she stopped?” he demanded suspiciously.
“She stopped because she does not find me fascinating.”
“Then she is truly a most remarkable, perceptive woman, which is a good thing, I must say.”
“For the last time, Godwin, I was not trying to seduce Bayard’s wife.” He had been swept away by his own burning need and her answering response. He knew full well what might have happened then, but it would not have been a seduction.
It would have been a fulfillment of all his hopes and dreams.
Yet if Endredi had not noticed Godwin, or had it been anyone else, they would be in grave danger. He dare not put her in such a situation again.
There was but one way to make sure he did not give in to the overpowering temptation to be with her, and he would take it. For her sake, and for his.
Chapter Seven
Adelar adjusted the strap of the pack behind his saddle in the early morning light that made its way through the chinks in the stable walls. His baggage contained little save his weapons, his byrnie, made of small, interwoven iron rings, and some articles of clothing.
In the wood beyond the burh, a lark greeted the dawn. The boys whose duties were to feed, water and clean the stables still slumbered, while around him, horses stamped and shuffled in the straw.
Whistling quietly in imitation of the bird, Godwin stood nearby, his arms crossed and leaning his weight against a support post. “What are you doing?”
“What brings you to the stable this early in the day? Where is Gleda?”
“Sleeping elsewhere. It seems we have both tired of the other’s charms.”
“Ah. So you were but lonely and thought to amuse the animals with your wit?”
“I was but curious, when I saw you leaving the hall with that bundle beneath your arm. Has Bayard sent you elsewhere to convey a message?”
“I am leaving.”
“I can see that, obviously. Where do you go, and why?”
“You would make a fine interrogator, Godwin. I believe you should leave off being a gleeman and offer for such a post.”
“Does Bayard send you on a secret journe
y?” The gleeman’s eyes glimmered with interest.
“No. I have spent more than the necessary time in the fyrd. I wish to go.”
“You have given no hint that you are dissatisfied. And others may think you must have a good reason for leaving so suddenly. Do you?”
Adelar paused to give the gleeman a stern look that would have been worthy of Father Derrick. “What are you suggesting?”
“Bayard’s wife—is she the reason you are going?”
“No.”
“Are you worried she will cause a rift between you and Bayard?”
“No.”
“Then why are you leaving? Your time in the fyrd was ended long ago, and you never hinted at leaving before.”
“Perhaps I am tired of your endless chatter.”
“You like my endless chatter. Now, if you said you were sick of Ranulf’s ugly face, to that I could give credence. Or is it another woman?”
“Why is it you always attribute everything I do to women?”
“Because so many of them like you. And you, I thought, liked them.”
“It is not a woman,” Adelar lied.
“You are blushing like a boy.”
“It is not a woman.”
“Very well, I believe you. But maybe you should give that as your reason to Bayard. Surely it is better to give some excuse other than simply your time is ended, as if you only just discovered a year had passed.”
Adelar scowled, but he supposed Godwin was right that he should give some explanation to Bayard, just as he was right to leave before anyone suspected the feelings he harbored for the wife of his lord were not what they should be. He had been a fool, deluding himself into believing he could mask his feelings from them all, and from himself. Yet it had taken only one moment alone with Endredi to call forth all the passion he felt.
“And if you don’t give some creditable explanation, others may wonder if you have learned something to turn you against Bayard. They might decide to desert Bayard, too. Then Cynath will hear of it. How will it be for Bayard if Cynath is angry?
“Bayard may feel betrayed. After all, he has treated you better than Ranulf, to his peril, too. And think, Adelar, that there will be no one to give him wise counsel. Everyone knows that all Ranulf thinks about are his own interests.”