“Would you give me your counsel about the potential brides?”
Would she help him to choose his wife? Pain, like a dagger thrust, pierced her heart, leaving her breathless. Could she help him choose the woman who would bear his name and his children and possibly his love?
“You ask much of me, Geoff.”
“I can only ask it of a friend, Cate. Someone whom I trust with my life.” He lifted her chin so she could not escape his dark gaze. “I know it is unfair to ask you, but I ask it all the same.”
“I will,” she said, knowing the impossible task she set for herself. She wanted to untangle their fingers and leave quickly, but still he did not release her. As his head tilted down, she feared and prayed for the same thing. His lips touched hers with a gentleness that broke her heart again….
The Countess Bride
Harlequin Historical #707
Praise for TERRI BRISBIN
“A lavish historical romance in the grand tradition from a wonderful talent.”
—New York Times bestselling author Bertrice Small on Once Forbidden
“Excitement, adventure, royal intrigue and a ‘what-if’ scenario that could change the world. Terri Brisbin weaves them together with the masterful touch that has become her trademark. Sheer Elizabethan delight.”
—USA TODAY bestselling author Maggie Shayne on The Queen’s Man
The Dumont Bride
“Rich in its Medieval setting… Terri Brisbin has written an excellent tale that will keep you warm on a winter’s night.”
—Affaire de Coeur
“Beautifully written and well researched, this book is a perfect ten in many ways.”
—Romance Reviews Today
TERRI BRISBIN
THE COUNTESS BRIDE
Available from Harlequin Historicals and TERRI BRISBIN
The Dumont Bride #634
The Norman’s Bride #696
The Countess Bride #707
To my husband, Chris (because he asked me to).
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Epilogue
Author Note
Chapter One
Lincolnshire, England
August, 1198
She knew that the blood of six young noblewomen would be on her hands. And she knew that she would sinfully enjoy strangling the very life and breath out of each one. If they continued repeating the completely inane comments of the last hour, she would be forced to kill them all.
Catherine de Severin pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and blotted her forehead. She did not suffer the heat well and the day had turned hot after the noon meal. Trying to be discreet, she lifted her hair from her perspiring neck and attempted to cool off before her discomfort was noticed.
Too late.
“Catherine? Are you unwell?” Emalie Dumont, Countess of Harbridge and her benefactress, leaned over and whispered to her. The softness of her voice did not hide her concern.
“I am well, my lady.”
Catherine heard the soft snickers that moved through the small group of women watching the men fight in the tilt-yard. Lady Harbridge had, as well, for her expression was one of distaste. Standing, the countess motioned to those seated to follow her.
“I fear this heat is too oppressive for me today. Come, let us seek a cooler place to gather, and something cool to drink to refresh ourselves.”
No one could remain sitting, or not obey the orders of the countess and the hostess of this keep. Catherine gathered her fan and handkerchief and stood. Before the small entourage could leave the yard, a loud, deep voice called out to them from across the yard.
“My lady?”
Catherine watched as the countess approached the fence and spoke quietly to her husband. The women had been watching the earl and some of his men practice their fighting skills in the yard as an amusement. But knowing that the younger Dumont was on his way here to choose one of them for a wife made the group nervous and excited. The mindless chatter had made the swordplay difficult to enjoy. Catherine turned and observed the earl and countess’s exchange of words.
’Twas times like this when she could see a softness in the earl’s face, an expression of love, that kept her from hating him as much as she knew he hated her. A man who loved his wife as much as the Earl of Harbridge did could not be all bad. When, in his conversation with his wife, he raised his eyes to glance over at her, the coldness filled his gaze once more and Catherine knew that Lady Harbridge had mentioned her name.
A tightening began in her stomach and grew stronger. Unease filled her as his gaze passed over her once more. She had prayed for acceptance of her fate. She had prayed for understanding. And she had prayed for the gratitude that should fill her for the earl’s sponsorship. ’Twas all for naught.
Her weaknesses in character threatened to overwhelm her. Her fears and her inability to carry on conversations in the romantic style of the court forced her to the background in most situations. Her lack of standing and lack of relatives to offer the support usually given to young women of marriageable age were appallingly obvious to those here seeking that honorable state. Even drawing on her inner reserve of practiced quiet and calmness did not lessen her anxiety when faced with outsiders whom she knew not.
The urge to return to the convent, nay, to run to the convent, nearly overpowered her for a moment. Taking in a deep breath, she tried to clear her thoughts. The countess approached and held out her hand. Taking it, Catherine walked next to the woman who offered her everything she lacked, without ever making demands on her time or on her soul.
“My lord has suggested that I seek my chambers and rest there until our evening meal. Catherine, will you join me and bring your prayer book?” Everyone present knew the lord had ordered her to her room. Gossip would begin immediately after Lady Harbridge left their presence.
“Of course, my lady.”
“I fear that this babe makes me sensitive to the heat. My lord is concerned that I not spend so much time outdoors in it.” Her whispers were loud enough for all to hear.
Catherine knew exactly what the countess was doing, and would have kissed the hem of her gown to thank her for it. But that would undo the good being done on her behalf. By announcing the news that she once more carried a babe, another heir for her lord, she drew the attention to herself.
The group behind them fell silent, but Catherine could almost hear the questions and thoughts in their minds. This would be the countess’s third child in just over three years of marriage. Catherine knew those here who sought marriage to the countess’s brother-by-marriage were wondering if he would be as demanding in the physical part of marriage as his brother was. And if they would be as fruitful.
They reached the keep, where Emalie guided Catherine in one direction while the others entered the great hall. The consummate hostess, Lady Harbridge would have servants aplenty waiting to serve her guests whatever they needed.
Catherine followed the countess up the stairs in one of the towers until
they reached the earl and countess’s chambers. The countess did not stop yet, but led her through a doorway and up another flight of stairs until they returned the battlements. Walking along the top of the wall that surrounded the entire keep, Catherine could see the lands around Greystone Castle, almost to the sea in the east. The countess stood at her side, eyes closed, facing into the breezes that buffeted them.
“If I could spend my days here in the wind, I would, dear Catherine.”
“Aye, my lady. ’Tis much more pleasant than the heat of the bailey.” Catherine remembered hearing some gossip about the amount of time the earl and his countess spent high up on these walkways, and she could feel a heated blush climb onto her cheeks. It was even rumored, if one wasted time listening to that kind of talk, that the child carried by the countess had been conceived here one stormy spring night.
“They can be cruel, Catherine. I urge you not to take their words to heart.”
“Aye, my lady.” What else could she say?
“Geoffrey should arrive by this evening. He will enjoy seeing you, as he always does.”
“And I him, my lady.”
Lady Harbridge gave her the strangest look and then patted her hand. “You may seek out whatever diversions you’d like this day, Catherine. I am truly headed for my chambers now.”
“As you wish, my lady.”
Catherine was still trying to figure out the meaning of her glance when Lady Harbridge added, “This babe makes me hungry and tired, and I battle between both feelings now. Could you seek out Alyce and have her send food and drink to me?” At Catherine’s nod, the countess continued. “It will be an arduous task to suffer the company of these empty-headed ninnies and their mothers over this next week, so get some rest to prepare yourself.”
She laughed with the countess at her words. They were her exact thoughts about this group of visitors. Catherine curtsied and turned to leave. The countess spoke once more.
“Geoffrey will be pleased to see you here.”
Geoffrey will be pleased to see you here.
The words swirled around inside her head as she sat in the cool stillness of the stone chapel. This was her one place of safe haven within Greystone. Not many of its inhabitants were spiritual in nature, so most times she had the quiet church to herself. Even old Father Elwood was absent now.
Wrapping her shawl tighter around her shoulders, Catherine paced the back of the chamber. Although marriage was never part of her accepted future life, she knew that it was a must for Geoffrey. Between the two Dumont brothers, they had much land and many titles to protect, both here in England and back in Poitou and Anjou.
She knew the French king was constantly testing the borders of his lands and that of the Plantagenets, and the Dumont lands sat between. Only an established marriage and an heir would serve to settle some of the tension. The current earl had supplied both, as was appropriate, but most did not know that Geoffrey stood as heir to all the earl’s Continental possessions and titles.
Catherine had discovered much about the Dumonts’ unusual arrangements with King Richard while here at Greystone and back at the convent. A second son did not expect to inherit family estates and titles, but Geoffrey would. Upon marriage—a marriage that required the consent of his brother— Geoffrey would take over control of Château d’Azure and all the Dumont holdings surrounding it. And he would be invested as the Comte de Langier.
If these “empty-headed ninnies,” as the countess called them, had knowledge of his true worth, they would have been after him long ago. But the earl kept these arrangements quiet even as he’d kept Geoffrey under control. Until now. Catherine longed to speak with Geoffrey to discover what had changed to make marriage now necessary.
Geoffrey. Her best friend. And now soon to be married. She had not laid eyes on him in almost a year, although his letters kept her entertained and informed of his progress in overseeing the workings of the many Dumont estates. When she’d last seen him he’d been maturing at an alarming rate, and Catherine could only imagine how handsome and tall he would be now.
She sighed as she struggled to accept what was to come. Her heart was heavy with the knowledge that this would be the last time she saw him. For once the question of his marriage was settled, she would begin preparation to take her vows.
Chapter Two
The small group of travelers reached the crest of the hill and Geoffrey called a halt. This was his favorite spot to stop and survey the Castle Greystone and its surrounding lands. With summer full upon England, the richness of the fields and forests was evident. Lifting off his helm, he savored the view for what promised to be the last time in many months.
“Your lands are just as rich, my lord.”
Geoffrey turned to face the man who was his own steward, and noticed his self-assured expression. Was Albert now reading his thoughts, as well as managing his properties?
“Oui, Albert, they are that. Or shall we say they will be when they are mine?”
Albert nodded and waited on him. ’Twould be unseemly to appear grasping when his brother’s generosity was without limit or question. And once the business here was finished, Geoffrey would hold the title and many properties of the Dumont family. He shook his head, still fearing to believe that a younger son could attain so much. But then, nothing in the last four years had gone according to the way things should go.
“One more task, my lord. And this one is not so onerous?”
Geoffrey smiled, torn by the one thing that stood between him and all he stood to gain. Marriage. Marriage with his brother’s consent. And then all would be his.
“Not so onerous, Albert. A necessary one at that.”
“I am certain that your brother will help you to choose wisely.”
The subtle leering in Albert’s glance belied the man’s calming words. Geoffrey’s somewhat colorful past with women both here and at home was well known. His brother would try to find a bride to match him in spirit, as well as titles and lands. Wouldn’t he?
“Come, then. Let me meet my fate while I still have the courage to do so.”
Joining him in mirth, the men spurred their mounts and followed him through the gates and up to the steps to the keep. Word of his arrival had spread, for his brother stood at the top of the stairway, waiting.
“My lord earl!” Geoff called out, as he dismounted and climbed the steps.
“Brother!” Christian answered, opening his arms to greet him.
They met in their usual bone-crushing manner, and Geoff once more knew that the affection between him and his half brother was strong as ever. They separated only when the soft but insistent voice of the countess interrupted their greetings.
“Geoff! ’Tis good to have you with us once more,” she said. His sister-by-marriage was becoming even shorter, but she could not be ignored. “And you have grown taller by many inches since I saw you last.” She wrapped her arms around him, giving no importance to titles and protocol, and his heart warmed at her enthusiasm.
“Countess. You look well.” He returned her hug and then stood back. He knew of her pregnancy, but did not know if the news was openly shared with their people yet. He would wait for a private moment to congratulate them both on their good tidings.
“I thought that when your arrival was delayed, mayhap you’d lost the courage to face the task before you,” Christian declared. Geoff laughed, although his brother probably did not realize how close to the truth his words were.
“And miss out on your merriment at my expense? I would not disappoint you both after your efforts on my behalf.”
“Come, then. Refresh yourself and join us for the meal. Your task can be put off that long,” Emalie said, as she pulled him into the doorway of the keep.
Geoff took a moment to look around, wondering if the one person whose presence would be a joy to him, other than his family, was there. He glanced about the bailey and into the keep, but did not see her. Not wanting to appear inattentive, he turned and walked with Emal
ie and Christian into the castle.
He looked at the hall with new eyes for he had grown quite a bit since his last visit here. Geoffrey could see surprise in the expressions of many of the servants as they noticed him for the first time. Looks of approval and some of open appraisal met him as he strode toward the dais at the front of the room. He smiled with true fondness at a few people, for they had been part of his growing up here these last few years. And he was met with inviting glances from several of the women who had marked his development from boy to man. No matter how inviting those looks were, this was not a visit to indulge his passions. Not with six prospective brides within the keep…and their mothers.
Even if a wife were supposed to accommodate her husband’s needs in the marriage bed and ignore his needs outside of it, he did not plan to flaunt any of his past liaisons before a bevy of possible brides. Discretion was the most important part of valor, his brother had always said.
But with every glance around the great hall, Geoffrey was disappointed. Although her letters had promised her presence here, he did not see Catherine. And nothing would give him more pleasure, especially during this time of decision making, than to talk with her. He needed Catherine’s quiet wisdom and soft sense of humor to help guide him. He wondered how she had reacted to the news of his impending nuptials. Catherine was pragmatic enough to realize that their futures would take them in different directions, or at least to different places. Christian had told him of a dowry set aside for her, so he knew that she would marry. Knowing her approach to life, he did not doubt that her choice of spouse would be done efficiently and with little of the spectacle that his would involve.
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