by Nicole Locke
Yet even those seemingly innocent looks seethed with an undercurrent. As if each man was analysing exactly how to kill everyone in the room and what goods would be best to steal.
These men reminded her of how Nicholas had been when he’d first strode back into to Mei Solis. Mercenaries. Lethal. Over six months Nicholas had been here now, and she’d almost forgotten the dark edge that he had worn. He had softened since then, as if something had eased within him.
Not so this leader, the man talking quietly with Nicholas now. He was something else altogether.
His body was at ease, his mannerisms refined and civilised as he gestured over some story he told. Whatever it was amused him, and also Nicholas, for he returned the man’s laughter with a tight smile.
The man wore all black. His hair was dark, his skin well bronzed. He had no false air of confidence, but the bored demeanour of someone who had seen it all before and was weary.
Because of that he seemed the deadliest of all. A bored man surrounded by trained warriors was a man capable of massacring the inhabitants of Mei Solis and then slicing the necks of his own men.
Slowly, steadily, she approached Nicholas, who turned to acknowledge her even while his expression was almost flat, his eye giving no indication of his thoughts.
The man turned as well, still laughing, and looked expectant. ‘And who is this?’
‘This is Matilda, who has been caring for the manor and the contents of its larder in my absence.’
The man gestured with his cup. ‘Then I have her to thank for this fine ale.’
‘Indeed.’ Nicholas indicated the man at his side. ‘Reynold from the Warstone family and his men have paid me a visit.’
No introductions, but names exchanged. Which meant Nicholas wanted her to know who this man was. His name wasn’t familiar, and she had never seen him before. However, there were some clues in the quietness of the hall, in the men who exchanged glances with each other as this brief conversation drew on.
Nicholas avoided looking at her. Taking her cue from him, she gave a formal nod of greeting. ‘Will you need a repast?’
‘Yes.’
The coldness in Nicholas’s tone sent fear down her spine. These men weren’t friends at all. Keeping her hands steady and her expression neutral, she asked, ‘And accommodations?’
Nicholas turned his head to Reynold, lifting a brow.
Reynold’s lips curved. A fox who already had the hen in its mouth. ‘Most definitely.’
The only indication that Nicholas didn’t like that news was a shift in his body and the relaxing of his hand at his side. The movement was slight, but enough that it freed the sword pinned at his side—as if he might need it at any moment, or was envisaging using it.
Matilda kept her eyes evenly on Reynold of Warstone and nodded her head. ‘That is very good. Then if you’ll permit me to see to your food and lodgings...?’
Nicholas, still not glancing her way, waved his hand.
Nicholas didn’t even exhale. He would do nothing to indicate weakness, and Matilda was his absolute weakest point.
The room was now empty of servants, or anyone who mattered to him. Louve would be preparing the men, if it came to that.
Louve hadn’t been pleased to be dismissed. However, there had been no time for any other preventative measures. He had to face Reynold alone.
If Reynold wanted him dead, there were easier ways of doing it than meeting him on his home turf. Reynold was here for other reasons. He simply needed to know what they were.
‘I didn’t expect to see you so soon.’
Reynold grabbed the flagon to refill his goblet. ‘Yet you expected me.’
‘You let Rhain go with an open invitation.’
‘Doesn’t that mean Rhain expected me?’
Nicholas twirled the cup in his hand when he truly wanted to pace. However, his movements would be tracked by Reynold’s guardsmen. At least in this part of the hall their conversation wouldn’t be overheard.
‘Rhain argued such—but then he always had an inflated sense of his own worth.’
Nicholas was glad that he was right and his friend was wrong. Reynold had sought him first for revenge. Nicholas would finally face the man who’d threatened his friends. Rhain had always wanted to be the protector, when in fact it was Nicholas’s duty. Rhain outranked him as a man and as nobility.
‘And what did you argue to him?’
‘That he had Helissent and you wouldn’t harm her.’
‘That I would stop my threats to the mercenary who killed my brother? That scarred maiden has no worth to the Warstone family. No wealth, no connections.’
‘You forget I travelled with her. Her worth is more than the Warstone family...and you know it.’
‘It’s true her cakes are sublime.’ Reynold took a sip of his ale.
‘So, no visits to Rhain since we...parted?’
‘I have been too busy. Dead brother and all.’
Reynold could play with Nicholas all he wanted—as long as he played only with him. Never with Matilda. How much time did he have while she prepared the repast and ensured accommodations? Not long enough. She would return. Reynold had seen her and would expect it.
‘She was attractive,’ Reynold said abruptly.
Nicholas faced his enemy. ‘Helissent married Rhain.’
Reynold lifted his index finger from his cup. An indication of wanting to make his point. ‘I meant your...server. Matilda.’
Nicholas forced a bored mien, though his insides roiled. He knew he had given no outward indication of his concern for her, but he had been thinking of her. Had a straying glance betrayed him?
‘She’s recently widowed with a babe.’
‘How old is the babe?’
He didn’t like the path of that question. There was no reason for Reynold to care how old Julianna was unless she was newly born and the mother was useless to a man. If Reynold stayed the night he’d know the truth.
‘I believe four months.’
‘Ah.’
That sounded too self-satisfied. He couldn’t let it go—a warning must be laid out. ‘Her late husband was one of my closest friends.’
‘That must be awkward for you.’
‘He would expect me to warn you.’
‘And so I am well warned. Did you warn yourself before you lay with her?’
Spies. That wasn’t possible—not here. Reynold couldn’t have reached Mei Solis before he had arrived, but how else would he know of his relationship with Matilda?
Except for the messengers who had brought his coin and his instructions to Louve, Nicholas had grown up with every tenant here. Who could possibly be sending messages to Reynold? And why?
He had to stop his spinning thoughts. The Warstone family couldn’t have any interest in him or his family. An impoverished knight with a wreck of a manor was of no use to Reynold.
Reynold laughed. ‘One eye, and a scar that hides most of your features, and still you can’t keep your thoughts to yourself. There are no spies here—it was simply your own actions. You were too careful with her. Your friend Rhain was the same with Helissent. Honestly, I can find no one to match me in immorality. Where is a decent liar these days?’
‘Maybe you should look to your own family.’
‘Guy was a blundering, spoiled fool.’
‘You have more brothers.’
‘Two—who have the subtlety of a battering ram.’
‘A very powerful ram.’
Reynold stood and pointed his finger again. ‘Maybe it is you who spy on me?’
Anyone who had trained at Edward’s court knew of the Warstone family. Only a handful of families had the ear, wealth and power of a kingdom without owning a country. Even more, the Warstone family had an edge over all those truths. They had the loyalty of the King, and
never, ever could be crossed.
Reynold didn’t have an inflated sense of his worth. He knew exactly what he was worth. The man was clever, wealthy by his own hand and, if rumour be believed, as lethal as the legend of Black Roger—King Edward’s right-hand knight for many years.
In other words, he was not a man to cross. Not even a man to know.
Nicholas had a dagger in his belt and he knew the reach of his arm. His height was to his advantage. He could strike Reynold long before he tried something.
‘What are you doing here, Reynold?’
The man looked out at the clouds in the sky and then off across the fields to the horizon. ‘I haven’t been to this part of the country in a long time and I thought I’d visit.’
‘You’ve never been to this part of the country.’
‘True, but I am long overdue. It seems beautiful—and very empty.’
How much time did he have before Reynold made his move? Whatever it was, it needed to be done soon. Servants would soon bring food. Even now he could smell it and hear the clattering of dishes.
‘Take your revenge—or whatever it is you need to do.’
‘Can’t we dine first?’
‘Is that why you’re here? Because you’re hungry? Then I will feed you, and you can be on your way.’
‘I’ve travelled far.’
Nicholas just held back a retort. Reynold was playing a game. ‘Then you’ll stay for the night. But know that this is the only moment you have to tell me what you must.’
Reynold lifted a sardonic brow. ‘Because of the woman?’
‘Because I am busy.’
‘You expect me to leave on the morrow? When I’m expecting to stay for a week?’
Nicholas had no time for games. Mei Solis was as all-encompassing as he remembered, and he still hadn’t discovered the reason for Matilda’s troubled gaze.
If Reynold stayed he would discover how tenuous a hold he had on his property, and on the woman he loved. Reynold and his games could shove a wedge between him and all his intentions for the future here.
Reynold could try, but Nicholas would see him dead before he caused any malcontent in his own home.
‘You intend to stay a week?’ Nicholas said. ‘What a welcome surprise.’
* * *
It was far into the night when she heard Nicholas’s heavy steps up the staircase and down the corridor. The tell-tale creak of his door and its closing. It was the sound Matilda always listened for. The time of night she’d meet him in his room.
Not knowing what to expect tonight, she didn’t immediately walk to his room, even though Julianna slept peacefully in her cradle. She stood in indecision and hated it. Years of being her own mistress and this was what she was reduced to—mincing around as if she didn’t know her own mind. She did know. She wanted Nicholas.
Quietly, though no one should hear anything from this private corridor, she sneaked into Nicholas’s room. Instead of undressing for the night, he was sitting on his bed, his head in his hands.
‘You shouldn’t be here tonight,’ he said, though he didn’t raise his head.
She didn’t have to listen to his cutting words—especially when they didn’t matter. ‘I want to be here.’
‘Reynold will know you’re here.’
‘He most likely already knows my room is next to yours and has assumed.’
Nicholas dropped his hands and rested his elbows on his knees. His hair was loose and tangled about his face. Even after a hard day’s labour, she’d never seen Nicholas look so exhausted.
‘Reynold hasn’t assumed. He knows because I accidentally told him.’ Standing impatiently, he looked about the room as if for something to do. ‘He knows everything. Always. It isn’t just his wealth that makes him dangerous.’
She’d never seen Nicholas unsure before. Even when he was restless, he was indomitable. Assured. ‘You told me that you and Rhain barely escaped with your lives. I assumed it was because of clashing swords.’
He shook his head slowly. ‘You’re dead before Reynold ever draws his sword.’
The full truth of the matter hit her. Nicholas had had some play in the cause of Reynold’s brother’s death. Reynold hadn’t exacted his revenge, and now he was here. He was here and he knew of her relationship with Nicholas.
‘He’ll harm Julianna?’
Nicholas’s restlessness stopped, and he turned to her almost violently. ‘He won’t. And he won’t touch you either.’
‘Yet you said he kills before he draws his sword. You won’t see him make his decision or hear him give the order. In the middle of night he could—’
Nicholas grabbed her arms and pulled her closer. Power, strength, comfort reverberated from every ounce of him, and she took it.
‘A man like Reynold likes games more than executions or killing children,’ he said.
‘What if he is finished playing his games?’
‘Nothing and no one will harm you or Julianna.’ He tilted his head, caught her eyes. ‘I swear it,’ he said, more powerfully than a vow.
Chapter Sixteen
Too polite. That was what Nicholas thought as he showed Reynold his estate the next day. They rode together as if they were amiable neighbours. The only thing that disputed this idyllic scene was the movement of Reynold’s men, who had dispersed themselves farther afield. They were no longer guarding Reynold but roaming the entirety of Mei Solis—from the outer fields to the tenants’ homes.
If they damaged crops or dirtied a kitchen floor with their boots he’d hear about it later.
If he was alive.
‘The air is better here than in London.’
A remark about the weather—but Nicholas knew it for the threat it truly was.
‘Did you come here from London?’ he asked, as evenly as he could.
‘Of course. I was following you and Rhain.’
‘You should have ridden with us and kept us company.’
Reynold chuckled. ‘That would have been entertaining.’
Knowing that Reynold would keep tabs on them had meant they’d trained hard along their way. The bastard probably knew that as well.
‘I could have entertained you with my sword practice.’
‘I haven’t had training in so long...’
‘I could accidentally skewer you.’
‘Or I you.’
Not with Matilda and Julianna in danger. He was their shield now. If Reynold stepped out of place he’d be their sword as well.
‘So what do you think of my humble home?’
‘You want my opinion?’
‘We could talk of the weather instead, or a training session between you and I that will never take place.’
‘You like your home?’ Reynold said.
‘And the people in it.’
‘I could tell you I will prove no threat, but I’d be lying.’
‘At least you’re trying to be honest.’
‘I lied about following you from London.’
Nicholas shook his head and pulled his horse in front. Reynold caught up.
‘I’m simply visiting...for now,’ Reynold said.
‘And when you’re not visiting? What do you do here?’
‘Not visiting? What else could I possibly do here out in the middle of nowhere?’
Another non-answer with one glaring fact: Reynold was staying and he had some agenda.
But, if so, Nicholas might as well get some use out of the extra man-power.
‘Will you and your men help in the fields?’
‘And let you near me with a plough?’
‘You’d have one, too.’
‘But you know how to use one.’ Reynold gestured outwards. ‘In all my imaginings, this isn’t what I thought your home would be.’
Home. Mei Soli
s. Nicholas was beginning to feel it just might be. ‘What did you think it would be?’
‘With you so scarred and tortured, I thought it would be dark. Grim. Instead it’s comfortable and friendly.’
If he hadn’t heard the hint of wistfulness behind Reynold’s words he might have thought him to be dismissing his home.
The rest of the day was almost congenial. Reynold insisted on seeing every bit of the land and the manor, and Nicholas saw the benefit in not hiding anything. If Reynold wanted to see how he lived and where, he’d let him.
Nothing went unnoticed or untouched—from the gates and the ploughs, to the bars in the rooms below the Manor. Reynold seemed fascinated by each revealed facet.
For once Nicholas almost understood his interest. Now that Mei Solis wasn’t falling apart, he, too, was appreciating the winding staircases, the odd additions, the uneven corridors and crooked cubbies.
When they returned to the manor’s courtyard they were greeted with the domestic scene of Bess jostling Julianna on her hip and Agnes skipping circles around them.
Matilda had some sort of stick in her hand and was drawing something in the air. Horses, no doubt.
The beauty of their happiness halted him, and he felt something somewhere in his chest before he could hide his reaction.
When he risked a glance to Reynold he knew it was too late to hide his joy. Reynold had seen everything.
Instead of commenting on it, he said, ‘I think I’ll rest before we dine tonight. If I may?’
Asking permission? Reynold had been giving orders since he’d arrived. Never anything overt enough to demand a challenge, but orders nevertheless. Nicholas had allowed it because there was too much at stake. One on one he knew he could take Reynold. The man wasn’t soft, but he hadn’t trained like Nicholas had...and nor did he have people to protect.
However, Reynold asking permission was something else. His expression gave nothing away. Respect? A trick? Something else to entertain himself with?
Whatever it was, Reynold had never done it before, and for that moment Nicholas almost admired him.