Hurriedly Raine interrupted him. “You need not bore the baron with our troubles, William.”
Benedict surprised himself by saying, “On the contrary, William. I find myself quite interested in what you have to say. Please continue.”
In spite of his sister’s disapproving expression, William did go on. It seemed almost a relief to voice his worries aloud. “Raine has tried her utmost to take care of us all, and when Denley would not leave be, she decided we should come here to court. She said we would find a man who would help us.” He met Benedict’s gaze directly, displaying a straightforwardness he could not help but respect. Benedict had never cared much for beating about the bush.
More and more was he impressed with this man-child.
Raine was now staring at the gray stone floor. She seemed impatient and flustered at William’s refusal to remain silent. Benedict could also see the unmistakable traces of disconsolation in the downward curl of her lovely mouth, no matter how she tried to hide it.
Clearly Raine worked very hard to keep her brother from knowing how uncertain she was. Her bravery in the face of the difficulties she and William had faced did her credit. Obviously their father had done his best to raise his children well. It was apparent in their manner and care for one another. They had simply been left alone too soon, with one inexperienced girl to choose their path.
Loyalty and care for others were qualities that he had always expected in the future bride of Brackenmoore. He continued to study the dejected Raine. Knowing what had brought her to such desperate means made him feel differently about what she had done. Although there was no question her efforts to force him into a marriage had been wrong.
He sighed heavily. He could not simply abandon these two to their fate. Raine, however misguided in her actions, had been doing her utmost to take care of her only sibling.
Benedict realized that he was thinking of committing the first, and he hoped only, hastily considered act of his life. But there was little time to contemplate. He must return to Brackenmoore this day. He had left his youngest brother, Kendran, alone too long already. Lily and Tristan were away at Tristan’s hunting lodge, Molson, and he could not have asked them to come home without mentioning some reason for his visit to court.
He looked into William’s eyes. The lad was so young. Benedict turned to Raine, saw the vulnerability she tried to hide in the dejected pursing of her mouth.
It must be done now, or not at all.
He spoke with quiet resolution. “William, would you be so good as to leave us for a while? There are some things I would like to discuss with your sister.”
William studied him for a long moment. “Aye, Benedict, I will leave you.” He leaned close and whispered so that his sister would not hear. “She is really not so very contrary and wild as she seems, you know. She’s just so afraid sometimes that if she stops to think she won’t have the courage to do what she believes she must.”
Benedict nodded, his gaze going to Raine, where she perched on the bed watching them. It was a very perceptive and likely accurate assessment, he thought. Bringing Raine into his life would not be without possible consequences to his peace of mind.
Then, surprised that he would even entertain such a thought, Benedict squared his shoulders as he watched William go to the door. No green female would be allowed to destroy his peace. He would simply have to make it clear that he would not tolerate such behavior in future.
When the door closed behind William, Benedict turned to the now scowling Raine. She had her arms folded across her chest and her tone was less than eager. “What more could there be for us to say, my lord? I believe you made yourself clear before William arrived.”
He scowled back at her. She was not making his inclination any easier to live with, yet his understanding that she would protect William at all cost to herself drove him on. He had felt that way about his own brothers when they had been left in his care.
“There is just one thing to say, really,” he told her. He went and stood before her, his gaze intent.
As if sensing the import of what he had to say, Raine became very still. Holding that troubled, yet brave golden gaze with his own, Benedict spoke in a tone of firm decision. “I ask you, Raine Blanchett, to be my bride.”
Her mouth formed an O and she stared at him in amazement. “Do not jest with me, Benedict Ainsworth.”
His mouth twisted in a wry grin. “I assure you that I am not jesting.”
Raine could only look at him for a long, long moment. At last she said, “Why are you so suddenly willing to do this? I have told you that I will reveal the truth of what happened here to all.”
He shrugged, his expression maddeningly unreadable. “Suffice it to say that I am willing.”
From deep inside her the reason came. It was because of William. Meeting him had made her brother’s predicament clear. She had seen for herself that Benedict Ainsworth was a man who cared much for the plight of others. How many men would secretly enlist the aid of the king of England for the sake of giving his newly wed brother some peace?
Though she had wanted nothing but the protection of his name, she felt almost deflated at understanding the reason for his proposal. Taking a deep breath, she looked down at her hands and replied, “For the sake of my brother I will accept the protection of your name, Benedict Ainsworth.” She raised her head, attempting to imbue her expression with gratitude. “I thank you for your kindness. I vow not to trouble you greatly from this point onward and will leave you in peace.” And she meant it. Once back at Abbernathy, she and William would do quite well with this powerful man’s name to protect them from harassment from Denley and those of his ilk.
This seemed to please him, for he smiled at her then, his white teeth flashing, and for a breathless moment her heart stood still. Though she could not quite fathom the degree of her reaction to a simple smile, she had a difficult time concentrating as he said, “I am so very gratified that you see there is cause for that statement. It encourages me.”
Raine nodded, glad that she had, at last, done something, however paltry it seemed, to please him. And she did mean what she had said. She intended to be no trouble at all to her new husband.
Raine felt a strange numbness as she folded the last of her garments into the chest. From the moment Benedict Ainsworth, Baron of Brackenmoore, and now her husband, had smiled at her, a sense of unreality had settled upon her. It had all happened too quickly to be real. Yet it was real.
She was well and truly wed to Benedict Ainsworth.
The marriage had taken place in one of the king’s private chambers, with none other than Edward himself in attendance. He had spoken only a handful of words to Raine, for which she was grateful. She was far too dazed by the haste and efficiency with which Benedict had been able to arrange the union to make polite conversation with a king.
Why, it had been only hours ago that she had stood in this very room with Ainsworth and heard him ask for her hand. The marriage had been accomplished and Raine shown back to her room without her new husband having uttered one word of a personal nature.
His request that she pack in preparation of leaving had been brought by one of his men. Far from being irritated by Benedict’s autocratic manner, she had been glad of something to occupy her. Raine was quite eager to take herself away from court. Her duties at Abbernathy beckoned.
And now the packing was done, her own men summoned to await her in the courtyard. William and Aida had already gone down to see to the loading of the small wagon.
The maid had been as shocked as Raine at the baron’s proposal. Surprisingly enough, William had not seemed to be. He had simply hugged her and told her that he thought Benedict a very kind man. Raine could only agree.
Even so, as she made the final preparations for the journey, Raine did not understand why she did not feel more cheered, why there was this odd sense of regret in her belly. She had found a husband, one who would serve her purposes very well indeed, and one who was
kind, as William had said. For how else could she describe a man who would go so far simply to aid her and William?
Yet he had not said one word of goodbye. Quickly she told herself that he had done far more than she had a right to expect. Why would he further trouble himself with them?
She sighed and closed the lid on her chest just as the nobleman who so occupied her thoughts entered the chamber. Raine stood immediately, distantly noting as she did so that she was now smiling.
Benedict stood in the doorway, his large frame filling the opening, and nodded with approval as he saw what she had been doing. “Good, you are ready. My men are as well.”
She frowned, surprised at his words. “Do you mean to escort us home then?”
He frowned back at her. “Do I mean to escort you? If that is what you wish to call it, aye. Why would I not accompany you to Brackenmoore?”
Puzzled, she took a step backward. “Brackenmoore?”
Benedict put his hands to his hips. “Aye, it is home.”
“Your home!” she murmured, bewildered.
“Our home,” he replied with conviction. When she continued to frown at him, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before murmuring, “I am beginning to have a growing suspicion that I am not going to enjoy this conversation. So much for not causing me any difficulty.”
Raine stiffened from the top of her head to the tips of her toes as she laid a determined hand upon her chest. “Somehow I have not made myself clear. I…we…William and I are not going to Brackenmoore.” She had indeed told him she would cause him no further distress, but she had not meant to imply that she would simply put aside her own responsibilities if he wished her to.
He was clearly aghast at her words, even though she was certain he had known they were coming. The man was obviously too full of himself to believe that she would actually oppose him. His tone was incredulous. “Of course you are going to Brackenmoore. It is my home. Your home now that we are married.”
Raine shook her head, attempting to clear it of some of her outrage, realizing that she had indeed been lax. “I realize that a terrible error has been made here.” She tried her utmost to maintain a semblance of reason even as she understood how great an error indeed. “The wedding took place so very suddenly and we had no opportunity to discuss any of this properly, but I never intended to go with you to Brackenmoore. I ask your pardon for any misunderstanding I may have caused, but I am going home to Abbernathy. I am needed there. The head woman’s grandchild will be born soon and I must be in attendance at a castle birth, as have all the women in my line for hundreds of years. The planting must be done, the spring cleaning of the keep.” She threw her hands in the air in frustration. “All those tasks and more must be seen to. I cannot simply abandon my brother, the folk who rely upon me.”
Benedict sighed as if with great relief. “I see the cause of your concern, but you need not worry. William will come with us to Brackenmoore. And as far as the other things are concerned, I will send a man to oversee Abbernathy. I have other estates besides Brackenmoore and they are well tended with my supervision, but do not require my residence.” He added, with a trace of humor, “You may be assured that the man I have in mind will acquit himself well, though he may be of little use at a birthing.”
Ignoring this attempt at jesting, she shook her head again, her gaze meeting his with absolute resolve even though she knew that what she was about to say would not be welcome. “I cannot leave the running of Father’s estate, William’s and my home, to a stranger.”
His displeasure with her statement was betrayed only by the slight narrowing of his eyes, but betrayed it was. And she suddenly became aware of the fact that this man, as her husband, had more power over her than she would wish. Without conscious thought she found her uncertain gaze falling to the wide expanse of his chest. Benedict’s size and height were imposing in spite of the fact that she did not wish to be intimidated.
“Your home is Brackenmoore and that, Wife, is where you go,” he stated.
Raine knew that she had brought this upon herself. Benedict did have a right to expect her to accompany him. She tried again. “I am very sorry for what has happened here. It was all so very fast. I never meant to conceal my intention to return to my own home from you. You have, by any standard, shown me the greatest kindness this day. But I must ask one more boon. I ask that you forgive me in this and offer my most heartfelt invitation for your coming to Abbernathy with us.”
His gaze widened. “That is impossible.”
She shrugged. “Then we shall certainly part ways. For I tell you that I cannot go to Brackenmoore.”
He glared down at her. “You have abused my goodwill overmuch this day, madam. You will come to Brackenmoore.”
She raised her chin, determined to defy him in spite of the fact that she was grateful for what he had done. Yet as she looked up into those ice-cold blue eyes she felt a growing realization that he was the one in control here.
She pulled the cloak of bravado about her stiff shoulders. “I will not.” What was the matter with him that he could not see reason? Had she not explained all?
His voice did not rise, holding a cool certainty that only served to further infuriate her. “You shall, and mark me, I will have no compunction against forcing you, should you attempt to defy me. You initiated this marriage. You will live by your desire.”
Desperation made her incautiously frank. “I never intended to abide with you.”
He leaned ever closer, forcing her to bend her head back to keep contact with those blue eyes. “That, Lady Ainsworth, is your own dilemma. I never intended for you to do otherwise. And mark me well, you will abide with me. I will personally carry you to your horse if you do not do as I have said. To salve your pride and reputation I have married you. You will not refuse to live as my wife.”
Before she could so much as say another word, he spun on his heel and exited the chamber.
Raine felt her hands curl into fists at her sides, rage and frustration making her feel as if she were about to explode. The blackguard. How dare he demand this of her, then turn his back as if she were no better than a servant?
Knowing that her anger would gain her nothing, Raine took deep, even breaths to calm herself. She must try to think of a way to make him see that she could not go with him. Yet even when the pounding of her blood eased she could see no way out of this situation.
Grateful as she was to him, Raine could not accept this command, nor Benedict’s assessment of the situation, with good grace. He had not married her in order to salve her pride. She was quite aware of the fact that it had been for William’s sake. In spite of her anger and resentment it still gave her an unexpected twinge of regret.
For the longest moment, Raine considered going on to Abbernathy as she had planned. Her own men were waiting in the courtyard. She could go down right now, mount her horse and be gone before Ainsworth could prevent her. This last chest need not be taken. The possessions it contained would be a small price to pay for her independence.
But something would not let her act upon this impulse. Perhaps it was the memory of how Benedict had so easily bested Denley. Perhaps it was because she knew instinctively that he was not a man to make idle threats. In no part of herself did she doubt that her husband would indeed carry her out before the whole court if he felt the need to do so.
Or come after her if she attempted to escape him. She could have no hope of outdistancing him, for it was obvious that he, too, was ready for the journey.
She could see no way out of doing as he said. For the moment, at any rate.
Seething with indignity, Raine marched to the door and jerked it open. Aida and William stood in the hallway. There was uncertainty on William’s face as he said, “Raine, Benedict just came out to the courtyard where we were waiting and informed us all that we would be accompanying him and his men to Brackenmoore. Is it true?” The anxiety on his face made her understand that she could not share her own rage and frus
tration over this with him. He had been through too much in the last months, and as ever, she was determined to keep him from suffering the fear and anxiety she had known after their mother died.
She spoke with deliberate calm. “Aye. We will be going to Brackenmoore.” At his surprised expression, she added, “For a time.”
Benedict stared unseeing at his serving of roast meat and bread that his men had readied for the evening meal. His stomach was in too tight a knot for him to even consider eating it.
He was angry. Angrier than he cared to admit. What manner of woman had he married that she thought she could treat him as she had?
She had never intended to abide with him, indeed!
As he had reminded her, it had been Raine herself who wanted the marriage. He had agreed for her sake. And the boy’s.
His gaze went to William, who sat close to the fire, talking animatedly with Benedict’s knight, Sir Peter. William’s six men sat nearby. After a brief initial surprise they had accompanied Benedict’s party with good grace, and seemed a decent lot.
He looked again at William, who smiled as Sir Peter waved his hand in the air to illustrate some point he was making. The lad did not appear to be as distressed at going to Brackenmoore as his sister. In fact, he appeared less troubled by the weight of his future than when Benedict had met him that very morn. This encouraged Benedict to hope he had done the right thing in marrying that hellion.
Although she had said not one more word of dissent to him the whole of the day, her anger was still apparent. It continued to burn in those golden eyes of hers each and every time he had so much as glanced in her direction.
His gaze went to the tent that had been erected a few feet away. A scowl darkened his brow. He had seen no sign of either Raine or her maid since it had been set up soon after their stopping for the night.
Benedict told himself that that was all well and good with him. He did not need her to acknowledge his presence. All he required was her obedience in the matter of her going with him to Brackenmoore. His marriage was of great impact as far as the estates were concerned.
The Bride Of Spring Page 7