“I may forget that I’m a lady.”
“You can be a very saucy wench,” he noted, his voice low and husky, his eyes dark with desire.
“And you can be a very bold man,” she replied in kind, reaching out to stroke his chest, until she saw the groom returning.
They stepped aside to let him and a stable boy lead their horses out into the yard, then followed. Once there, Roland made a sling of his hands to help her mount. As she adjusted her cloak, he swung into the saddle on the light brown gelding.
This time, when they rode through the village, people waved and more than one smiled to see them pass. It was as if a pestilence had threatened them, and never come.
Then she caught sight of Gerrard leaning against the wall of the tavern, his arms crossed and his eyes full of anger, his grim expression making him look much more like Roland.
If Roland saw his brother, he gave no sign, and she didn’t point him out. She wanted to enjoy this time alone with her husband on a sunny autumn day.
When they reached the far end of the green, two men were in the process of dismantling one of the three stocks set in the middle of it. It was evident that at one time, there had been even more.
“My father believed in harsh punishments,” Roland explained before she asked.
“I’m glad to see that you’re going to be more merciful.”
“If the law is broken, there must be punishment, but the punishment must suit the crime, not the nature of the judge.”
He slid her a sideways glance. “Am I wrong to suspect that your father was sometimes cruel even to you?”
“Not until recently,” she replied, determined to be just to her father. “When I was little, he was kind to me, or at least didn’t mistreat me. But the more he drank, the more cruel he became.”
She hesitated, then voiced something she hadn’t shared with anyone, not even Tamsin. “I think he was very disappointed with the course of his life. He wanted to be a powerful man at court and saw his chances fade away. He blamed Tamsin’s mother in part, for he and his father had made a marriage contract with a powerful lord and she ran off with another. Thwarted ambition would explain why he was so determined to make an alliance with your family.”
“Whereas I was never important to my father, not even as a potential heir,” Roland replied. “It was always Broderick who had his favor, no matter how dutiful or obedient I was or how I strived to please him.”
“Tamsin tried to win my father’s love by managing the household, yet he never seemed to notice her, either. She was determined to try, though, even if it meant that she took my place as chatelaine, and left me with almost nothing to do. I understood how important it was to her, though, so I let her, even if it meant people thought I was lazy or vain or stupid.”
“Anyone who thinks you’re lazy or vain or stupid is a fool,” he said firmly. “I think you see and understand things most others miss.” He gave her a sidelong glance, and a wary smile. “Perhaps I should be worried.”
She answered him honestly, and seriously. “You should be glad, because I saw something in you the first time I met you that made me certain I should accept you for my husband.”
The tips of his ears turned red and he swiftly looked away. “You had best take care, my lady, lest you make me vain.”
“It’s time someone appreciated your merits, Roland, and I do,” she assured him.
By this time, they had reached a prosperous-looking manor at the far side of the village. The stone house and yard were large and tidy, the outbuildings many and in good repair. “Who lives here, my lord?” she asked, thinking it must be a family she should invite to the wedding.
“This is Audrey D’Orleau’s manor.”
She was indeed rich and well-to-do, then, and no wonder the villagers thought a match with one of the lord’s sons likely.
A shutter moved on the upper floor, perhaps from the breeze, or by the unseen hand of someone watching the road.
* * *
He spoke before she said another word. “Audrey wants a title more than anything else. She tried for Broderick with no success, and she might have tried for me once I inherited, but she would never have succeeded. I have never liked her.”
His shoulders relaxed as they passed Audrey’s gate—another sign, should she need one, that she shouldn’t be jealous. Otherwise he wouldn’t be so at ease this close to a former lover’s house with his wife riding beside him.
A powerfully built, broad-shouldered man watched them from the portico over the wide entrance to the house. He wore a boiled leather tunic over a padded gambeson and instead of breeches, the gathered cloth skirt of a Scot. His lower limbs were wrapped with fur over leather boots, and he had a huge broadsword of the sort the Scots called a claymore strapped to his back, the hilt visible over his shoulder. He was an imposing-looking man, and he stared at them with unblinking attention.
“Who is that watching us so closely?” Mavis asked.
“Duncan Mac Heath. He guards Audrey’s household, and Audrey, too. Rumor has it there are casks of gold inside her house and Duncan sleeps in the storeroom where they’re kept.”
“He looks capable of fending off several thieves all by himself.”
“That he does and so he probably could,” Roland replied. “I once saw him strike a man famed as a bare-knuckle fighter outside the tavern. A single punch and the fellow was out cold.”
Mavis gathered her cloak more tightly about her, although she wasn’t trembling because of the autumn air. It was the cold-blooded, hostile way Duncan Mac Heath regarded her husband, as if Roland was an enemy he wanted to kill. “Does he have any cause to dislike you?”
Her husband shook his head. “No. He always looks like that, like he’d just as soon hit you as look at you. Keeps thieves away, too, that face of his.” He frowned. “If you’re cold, we should go back.”
A gust of wind rushed down the road, lifting her cloak and biting her cheeks. Now she truly was cold. Clouds were gathering on the horizon, too. “Perhaps we should, my lord.”
They swung their horses to return to the castle, the Scot watching them intently all the while.
Chapter Ten
Tamsin hurried ahead of her husband to speak to the two soldiers from Castle DeLac waiting in their hall. She had immediately recognized them as two of the men who’d been part of Mavis’s escort.
“I’m so pleased to see you!” she cried. She gestured for them to sit as her husband joined them. “What news of Lady Mavis? They arrived safely at Dunborough, I assume?”
“Aye, my lady,” Arnhelm replied. “There was a bit o’ trouble on the way, though. We stopped at a manor belonging to a Sir Melvin—”
“You’ll meet him at the wedding feast,” Verdan added helpfully. He nudged his brother and nodded at his belt.
“Right, I was getting to that,” Arnhelm said, pulling the parchment from his belt. “Lady Mavis sent this to you. They’re having a wedding feast at Dunborough.”
“Well, now, that’s unexpected,” Sir Rheged remarked as he sat beside his wife.
Tamsin didn’t immediately open the letter. “You said you had some trouble?” she asked Arnhelm.
“Aye, my lady, there was a storm when we was at Sir Melvin’s. A tree got struck by lightning and fell onto the stable and caught fire. No one was hurt,” he hastened to add, “nor the livestock neither. But the stable and a shed was burned, and so was the wagon with all Lady Mavis’s dowry.”
“Burnt right to cinders,” Verdan said.
Arnhelm ignored his brother. “Sir Melvin, good man that he is, was nigh onto useless. Sir Roland took command, and our lady helped, too, but the wagon was gone just the same.”
“Oh, no! Poor Mavis, to lose all her things!” Tamsin cried. “She must have been so upset!”
Arnhelm thought a moment before he shook his head and said, “No, no, can’t say she was.”
“And Sir Roland?”
“He didn’t seem to mind much, either. We got to Dunborough pretty quick after that.”
Tamsin sighed with relief. “And how is Lady Mavis? Well, I hope?”
“Seems to be, my lady.”
“Do they treat her well at Dunborough?”
“Most of ’em.” Arnhelm moved in closer and the others instinctively leaned in, too. “I got to say, my lady, that brother-in-law o’ hers is some piece o’ work. He’s a wastrel and he drinks too much and the fellows he spends time with ain’t no better. Sorry to upset you, my lady, but I thought you ought to know.”
“Aye, we thought you ought to know,” Verdan seconded.
Tamsin regarded the soldiers with dismay. “What about her husband? Does he treat her kindly and with respect?”
Arnhelm nodded. “Aye, my lady. Aye, he does. We weren’t expectin’ him to treat her so well as he does, considerin’ who his father was.”
“And they go at it like rabbits,” Verdan said with a grin. “Right there in the woods that one time.”
Arnhelm shot his brother a critical look while Tamsin blushed and Rheged’s eyes widened as if he was both surprised and impressed.
“I think we can assume all is well with your cousin and her husband, then,” Rheged said as he assumed a more dignified expression. “Have you any other news?”
“Lord DeLac ain’t lookin’ so good,” Arnhelm replied. “Keeps to his bed most o’ the time now. I don’t think he’ll be going to the feast. Sir Melvin and his wife said they’d go, though.” Arnhelm grinned. “You’ll like them, my lady.”
Verdan, suitably chastised, nodded his agreement.
“If there’s nothing else,” Rheged said, “you may get yourself some refreshments in the kitchen. You’ll stay the night, of course.”
“Thank you, my lord, we will,” Arnhelm replied, rising. His brother got to his feet, too, and together they headed for the kitchen.
“You’ve met Gerrard,” Tamsin said to her husband when they were alone. “Do you think he’ll cause trouble for Mavis?”
Rheged ran his hand over his chin thoughtfully. “He might try. He’s jealous of Roland, so he might be even more bitter and angry now that Roland’s wed to a woman as lovely as Mavis.”
Tamsin started to open the letter. “Perhaps we shouldn’t wait for the wedding feast to go to Dunborough. I’m sure Mavis won’t mind if we arrive early.”
Rheged put his hand on hers. “Aren’t you forgetting something, beloved? You’re with child, and that’s not an easy journey. Let’s hear what she has to say before we decide.”
Tamsin nodded and began to read.
“Dearest cousin,
“We have arrived safely in Dunborough, although all of my dowry did not. Fortunately, the coin was spared, so I am buying new clothes, including a new gown for my wedding feast. It’s to be on November 15, and I hope you and Rheged will come to celebrate with us in my new home. I realize you might not feel up to such a journey at this time of year, so if you choose to stay at Cwm Bron, I’ll understand.
“All is going well in Dunborough. I had some trouble with one servant, so I dismissed her, as I was sure you would have. The steward is a bit of a trial, but I suppose I shouldn’t fault him for keeping a careful eye on the expenses. Roland is well, and the best husband in the world, although you may not agree, being so enamored of your own.”
“As well you should be,” Rheged put in, grinning.
Tamsin smiled in return before she continued reading.
“I hope to see you both soon. If not, perhaps I can come to Cwm Bron when the traveling will be easier.
“Your blessed and loving cousin,
“Mavis.”
“There, you see?” Rheged said, his tone comfortingly triumphant. “You’ve been losing sleep for nothing. She sounds happy to me.”
“Perhaps,” Tamsin murmured as she perused the letter again.
“She’d tell you if there was trouble with her husband or anyone else, wouldn’t she?”
“At one time, I would have agreed with you without question,” Tamsin replied. She tapped the letter with her finger. “But this letter...there’s a distance...a restraint... She is not as she was, Rheged.”
“She’s a married woman now,” he replied. “We can’t expect her to be exactly the same.”
When Tamsin still looked worried, Rheged took her hand. “I think I had best plan a journey to Yorkshire in a sennight’s time, or maybe a few days earlier. In the meantime, perhaps Arnhelm and Verdan can take a message to her for us, to let her know we may arrive on her doorstep sooner than expected.”
His wife’s fervent, passionate kiss was all the confirmation Rheged required that his suggestion met with her approval.
* * *
“I wonder how many more days will be fine enough for riding?” Mavis said to her husband as they rode along the top of the hills nearest Dunborough a few days later. Ahead the path led down into a wooded valley where a deep stream ran cold and fast. For once, the wind was no more than a mild breeze, and they could talk at their leisure.
“Not many,” Roland replied. “But since my hall is so comfortable these days, I doubt I’ll miss this much.”
“In the winter, anyway,” she agreed, giving him a smile that grew when she thought of her secret hope, something that would unite them even more. But it was too soon to tell Roland what she suspected in case she was wrong. “I doubt I’ll be able to leave the castle again until after the feast. Only seven more days! I feel as if there are a thousand things to do. Indeed, I feel almost guilty for taking this time to be with you. Almost,” she added with another smile.
“I’m honored,” he replied with what appeared to be perfect seriousness, except for the hint of laughter twinkling in his dark eyes. She saw that more and more these days, making it easier to dismiss her concerns about Gerrard and the disturbing stings of jealousy that sometimes still troubled her if she saw Audrey in the village. And if what she thought was true...
“I think I’ll dismiss Dalfrid after the wedding feast,” Roland said. “I’ve decided to give him a hundred marks with my thanks, to make his dismissal a little more palatable and stave off any complaints he might make.”
Mavis would have preferred to see the steward gone even sooner. Nevertheless, she didn’t disagree. After all, the man had served the household for years, and although he carried on as if she was inviting the king and his court to the feast instead of less than twenty...well, surely she could endure him for another seven busy days.
“Have you had a message from your father yet?” Roland asked.
“No, not yet.” She sighed and tried not to feel hurt. “It’s not a good time of year to travel.” She brightened as she thought of who would be attending. “Tamsin and Rheged will be, though, and Sir Melvin and Lady Viola.”
“I thought I recognized those two men in the courtyard before we rode out. They brought answers to your invitations?”
“Yes, bless their hearts, for they’re starting back today. Although Verdan was willing to wait a day or two, I couldn’t convince Arnhelm to stay even one night. It seems that while he’s proud and pleased to act as messenger, he doesn’t like Yorkshire very much. He doesn’t have as good a cause as I do to appreciate the country.”
Rheged’s brows drew together in a frown. “Just don’t sit Sir Melvin too close to me. He’s a kind, generous fellow, but he talks too much.”
“Tamsin will sit beside you and she’ll be quiet.”
“I wonder,” he mused aloud, his expression openly skeptical. “I can more easily imagine that she’ll spend half the night leaning over me to talk to you, and you’ll spend the other half leaning over me to talk
to her. It would be better if you sat together.”
“That would not be proper.”
Roland shook his head, and so did Hephaestus, whose hoof had healed. “You see? He doesn’t understand the rules of etiquette, either.”
“He’s a horse, Roland,” she said with a laugh.
The wind picked up, lifting her cloak and making her teeth chatter, but she didn’t want to go back to Dunborough. Not yet. This might be her last taste of freedom from duty and responsibility until the feast was over and all the guests had gone.
“I’m getting cold, but a good gallop will warm me,” she said instead. She punched Sweetling’s sides with her heels and slapped the reins against her mare’s neck.
“Catch me if you can!” she cried as Sweetling took off at a gallop.
The wind whipped past them as they raced down the road, her horse’s hooves throwing up mud. Mavis’s heart pounded with excitement, her blood throbbing. Soon they were in the valley, with trees close by on every side, their bare branches reaching upward, and the underbrush thick with holly and golden bracken.
Onward and onward they galloped, through the valley, over another hill and down another valley. She no longer heard Roland’s horse behind them and laughed to think they’d outraced him and his fine mount.
Until she saw the large tree blocking the road.
With a gasp, Mavis pulled hard on Sweetling’s reins to halt her. As the mare pranced nervously, her panting breaths making little puffs of steam in the chilly air, she patted the horse’s sweat-slicked neck.
“Good day, my lady!” a voice called from the woods on the right, and a man stepped out of the trees. His cloak, once a bright scarlet, was now filthy and torn. He had a scraggly excuse of a beard, and his hair was dirty and matted. Even so, she recognized him at once as Gerrard’s friend Walter.
“All by yourself, are you?” he said, coming forward.
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