“How insulting! I don’t do that! You know, I think I liked you better before, when you were so harsh and rude. At least then I got some work done.” Mina giggled, a sound Roger was coming to enjoy very much.
“Now you’ve wounded my tender feelings.” Roger pouted, getting out of bed and searching for something in the chest. “What have you done with my gray tunic?”
“It’s right there.” Mina pointed to the garment lying in a heap beside the bed. “Really, Roger, you’re going to have to take more care.”
“Then don’t make me impatient.” He pulled the wrinkled tunic over his head.
“You look a mess.”
“Taking after Reginald, are you? Nobody else I know worries about the appearance of his clothes.”
“Speaking of Reginald,” Mina said, getting out of bed and putting on her shift, which had also been left in a heap on the floor, “do you think the baron’s going to be terribly angry? Maybe we should have delayed the wedding.”
“I daresay we’ll find out soon enough. I would have welcomed a delay, too, but Reginald wouldn’t hear of it. He’s a changed man these days.”
“The power of love, I suppose.”
The couple exchanged amused glances, then Mina frowned. “In all seriousness, Roger, I think Reginald and Hilda should leave for France soon, although I’ll be sorry to see them go.”
“Surprisingly, I think I’ll miss the fellow, too. He’s vastly improved. My influence, no doubt.”
Mina shook her head as she tried to locate the laces at the back of her gown. “Still the arrogant nobleman!”
Roger came behind her and grabbed the laces from her, his breath warm on her cheek. “Mina!” he warned, his voice filled with laughter.
She leaned back against him. “I like it when you make me laugh,” she said.
He bent over her and planted a kiss on her forehead. “You are a temptress. But about Reginald, I think it would be wise for him to leave the country. The baron has many friends.”
“I suppose, but—”
At that moment there was a flurry of pounding on the bedchamber door. Roger stepped away from Mina so quickly she almost fell over. “What is it?” he demanded, hurrying to the door and flinging it open.
A very agitated Dudley stood on the threshold. “It’s the baron! Baron DeGuerre! He’s here! In the hall!”
“Baron DeGuerre?” Roger asked stupidly.
“I didn’t know what else to do, so I asked him to the hall!” Dudley exclaimed, wringing his hands. “What’s he here for? There’s no decent meat in the kitchen!”
“Take him some wine and give him our apologies for not being ready to receive him. Tell him we’ll be down shortly,” Mina ordered. Dudley nodded and scurried away as fast as his stocky legs could move.
Mina swiftly knotted her laces. “Roger, get your black tunic on!”
“Right!” He paused while he was in the process of pulling on his boots. “Do you suppose he’s heard about the wedding already?”
“Who knows? I’ll have Dudley find Reginald and tell him to stay out of the castle for a while.”
Roger halted on his way to the door. “No, Mina,” he said decisively. “Reginald hasn’t done anything wrong. He should face the baron and get it over with. After all, he is a Chilcott.”
Mina sighed and nodded, quickly flinging a scarf over her unbrushed hair before shoving a stiffened headband on top. “You know the baron best. I just hope Reginald hasn’t fled already.”
“We’ll find out soon enough.”
Hand in hand, Roger and Mina hurried along the corridor and ran lightly down the stairs. Then they halted abruptly.
Baron DeGuerre was seated by the hearth, looking like a very judgmental St. Peter at the gates of heaven. Reginald, pale but defiant, stood before him, holding tight to his new wife’s hand. He wore a plain tunic rather like the one the baron had on, and he managed to look both terrified and brave. Hilda, attired in a fine new blue gown that highlighted her fulsome beauty, stood resolutely beside him. Instantly Roger was ashamed for all the lessthan-flattering thoughts he had ever had about Mina’s half brother. He quickly walked forward, catching the baron’s censorious eye.
“So, Roger,” Baron DeGuerre said gravely, “you have allowed these two to marry.”
“Yes, my lord,” Roger answered, making his obeisance. “I did.”
“It wasn’t for him to give me permission,” Reginald proclaimed stoutly. “He is not my liege lord, and neither, Baron DeGuerre, are you.”
“I know very well who has sworn an oath of loyalty to me and who has not,” the baron replied calmly. “I haven’t come to condemn you, even if you did insult Lady Joselynd. She was very upset when she reached my castle.” He gave Roger the vaguest hint of a smile. “She seemed to think I should comfort her. I regretfully declined. She’s left my castle and gone north, to Sir Thomas Tarrant’s manor. His son is in need of a wife, or so I heard.”
Roger and Mina looked at each other with tentative relief. Reginald and Hilda managed weak smiles.
Aldys, looking extremely self-conscious, arrived holding a tray with a chalice of wine and a goblet. Another maidservant, new to her duties, moved three chairs close to the baron’s. “Aren’t you going to join me?” the baron inquired of his hosts as Aldys set down the tray, her hands shaking so much it rattled.
Hilda moved quickly to help Aldys, giving her friend a sympathetic look.
“Hilda,” Reginald said, his voice only slightly critical. “That’s Aldys’s job now.”
Blushing, Hilda moved away from the table. Aldys dipped a curtsy and said in a high, anxious voice, “I’ll fetch more goblets, my lord.” She practically ran out of the hall and nearly tripped over a stray piece of kindling in her haste.
“Please, sit,” the baron said, unconsciously assuming command of the hall. Roger, feeling magnanimous, decided to let him. “I confess I was not delighted to hear that Lord Chilcott decided to marry. However, he informs me it is a fait accompli, so I shall simply have to accept it. That is not the main reason for my visit. I have recently acquired some additional land, including the manor of the late Sir Guy de Robespierre.” The baron’s voice was full of contempt, and Roger quite agreed with the sentiment. Sir Guy had been a corrupt and evil man. “It is not my intention to punish anyone,” the baron said, obviously not without sympathy for the abused tenants. “However, I need a knight to hold it for me. I realize, Lord Chilcott, that you already have a large estate in France. I came to ask if you would consider taking over this one, too.”
“I would have to swear fealty to you, wouldn’t I?” Reginald asked doubtfully, looking at Roger, who gave a slight nod of his head in confirmation.
“Yes, you would,” the baron replied. “I realize this might seem a step down to you, but I hope you will not refuse. It is important to me to have the very best men for my allies. The times seem peaceable enough, but such things can change within a very short time. It also occurs to me that your wife’s...lineage ... might prove rather beneficial. The tenants will surely be more likely to accept you.”
“If that’s the case, I will say that my wife is not happy with the idea of living in France, so far from her home,” Reginald said hesitantly. “I would have to visit France from time to time, of course, but my steward there is a most reliable, trustworthy fellow. I daresay he’ll be delighted not to have me sticking my nose in things.”
“I will be glad to have you close by, too,” Mina said.
The baron smiled with what Mina took to be genuine pleasure. “Then you accept?”
“I accept. I shall do my best to be a good master to them and a good ally to you, Baron DeGuerre,” Reginald said.
“I’m sure you will,” the baron replied. He eyed Roger pensively. “I must say, marriage seems to be doing you a lot of good, Roger.”
“It is, indeed, my lord.” Roger glanced at Mina and smiled warmly. “I am delighted to be able to tell you that my wife is with child.”
“Wonderful!”
the baron cried, rising and giving Mina a kiss on each cheek. “I am happy for you, my lady. You are truly a lucky fellow, Roger!”
There was some sadness in his voice, and Mina could guess why. For all his power, wealth, talent and wives, the baron had no living son to whom he could bequeath his steadily increasing land. “This calls for a celebration,” the baron proclaimed.
Mina thought of Dudley’s agitation and wondered how quickly they could find or purchase the necessary items of food, as well as how much it would cost.
“At my expense, of course,” the baron said. “Perhaps Roger and Reginald will care to accompany me on a hunt to provide the meat?”
Mina wasn’t sure if the baron had somehow heard or guessed Dudley’s concerns, but it didn’t matter, because Roger was always eager to hunt when he was not eager for certain other activities generally confined to the marriage bed...or the woods... or under that willow beside the river....
“My reeve will have the harvesting well in hand, my lord,” Roger said. “I shall be honored to hunt with you.”
Reginald swallowed hard. “If you will give me leave, my lord, hunting is not to my taste.”
“Even if the food it provides is? Well, you have my permission to stay with your lovely wife, who I hope has forgiven my unconscionable behavior during my last visit.”
Hilda blushed and nodded eagerly.
The baron looked around the hall. “A great improvement here, Roger, which I assume your wife is responsible for.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“I haven’t seen Sir Albert since I arrived. I heard of his accident. Is he quite recovered?”
Roger rose with something of a guilty expression on his face. “I think he is overseeing the training of my men.”
The baron also got to his feet. “To think I have lived to see the day you are not doing that yourself! Your marriage must indeed be happy, if it can cause Sir Roger de Montmorency to neglect his duties.”
“My lord, I — ”
“It is a jest, Roger. Come, I would like to greet Sir Albert. You don’t have to accompany me, Reginald. I suppose you two newly wedded young people would far rather enjoy your own company. Mina, please join us. I like the camaraderie of beautiful women.”
“With pleasure, my lord.”
Mina followed behind her husband and his overlord after giving Reginald and Hilda a happy smile. She was sincerely pleased to think they would not be living in France, and perhaps when it was necessary for Reginald to visit there, Hilda could come to stay at Montmorency Castle.
They discovered that Albert had taken several of the foot soldiers and one or two of the lesser visiting knights and their squires to the Lammas lands, the common grazing ground outside the village. When they drew near, they could see why. The men, attired in full chain mail, were busily chasing the inflated pig’s bladder, with Albert admonishing them for their lack of speed or clumsiness as he deemed necessary.
Albert spotted the baron, Roger and Mina and made a slight bow. The other men, all of whom were sweaty, some of whom were panting and a few of whom were clearly exhausted, stopped the game until Roger barked at them to continue.
Albert approached and said, “Good morning, Baron DeGuerre. A pleasure to—”
Then he stopped, staring past them as if he had seen a ghost.
Mina, Roger and the baron glanced over their shoulders, then turned to watch a woman on a palfrey riding toward the village. A young man rode beside her. The woman was cloaked, and the young man unfamiliar, yet before they could turn their gaze back to Albert, he had already taken off in a mad sprint down the road. “Winifred!” he shouted, waving his arms, no longer a mature knight, but a young lad again, his voice full of joy and astonishment.
The woman threw back her hood, displaying a face that was not of outstanding beauty, but her smile was dazzling and made up for whatever in her features might be lacking. She dismounted quickly when Albert ran toward her. She held her arms wide and called his name. When he reached her, engulfing her in his arms, she embraced him fervently. Mina could hear parts of their excited exchange, including a mention of a ballad and something about a letter.
She had trouble seeing the young man get down from his horse, because her eyes were full of tears. She was thrilled to think that she had played a small part in this glorious reunion.
“So that is the famous Winifred,” the baron mused. “She doesn’t look the kind of woman to inflame such tenacious passion”
“Do not underestimate the power of love,” Roger remarked, stepping beside Mina and pulling her close. “I assure you, I never will again.”
“Nor I,” Mina said happily, reaching up to kiss her Norman.
Weddings by De Wilde
Since the turn of the century the elegant and fashionable DeWilde stores have helped brides around the world turn the fantasy of their “Special Day” into reality. But now the store and three generations of family are torn apart by the divorce of Grace and Jeffrey De Wilde. As family members face new challenges and loves — and a long-secret mystery — the lives of Grace and Jeffrey intermingle with store employees, friends and relatives in this fast-paced, glamorous, internationally set series. For weddings and romance, glamour and fun-filled entertainment, enter the world of DeWilde...
Twelve remarkable books, coming to you once a month, beginning in April 1996
Weddings by DeWilde begins with Shattered Vows by Jasmine Cresswell
Here’s a preview!
“SPEND THE NIGHT with me, Lianne.”
No softening lies, no beguiling promises, just the curt offer of a night of sex. She closed her eyes, shutting out temptation. She had never expected to feel this sort of relentless drive for sexual fulfillment, so she had no mechanisms in place for coping with it. “No.” The one-word denial was all she could manage to articulate.
His grip on her arms tightened as if he might refuse to accept her answer. Shockingly, she wished for a split second that he would ignore her rejection and simply bundle her into the car and drive her straight to his flat, refusing to take no for an answer. All the pleasures of mindless sex, with none of the responsibility. For a couple of seconds he neither moved nor spoke. Then he released her, turning abruptly to open the door on the passenger side of his Jaguar. “I’ll drive you home,” he said, his voice hard and flat. “Get in.”
The traffic was heavy, and the rain started again as an annoying drizzle that distorted depth perception made driving difficult, but Lianne didn’t fool herself that the silence inside the car was caused by the driving conditions. The air around them crackled and sparked with their thwarted desire. Her body was still on fire. Why didn’t Gabe say something? she thought, feeling aggrieved.
Perhaps because he was finding it as difficult as she was to think of something appropriate to say. He was thirty years old, long past the stage of needing to bed a woman just so he could record another sexual conquest in his little black book. He’d spent five months dating Julia, which suggested he was a man who valued friendship as an element in his relationships with women. Since he didn’t seem to like her very much, he was probably as embarrassed as she was by the stupid, inexplicable intensity of their physical response to each other.
“Maybe we should just set aside a weekend to have wild, uninterrupted sex,” she said, thinking aloud. “Maybe that way we’d get whatever it is we feel for each other out of our systems and be able to move on with the rest of our lives.”
His mouth quirked into a rueful smile. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”
“Why? Because you’re the man? Are you sexist enough to believe that women don’t have sexual urges? I’m just as aware of what’s going on between us as you are, Gabe. Am I supposed to pretend I haven’t noticed that we practically ignite whenever we touch? And that we have nothing much in common except mutual lust—and a good friend we betrayed?”
ISBN : 978-1-4592-7522-5
THE NORMAN’S HEART
Copyright © 1996 by Margaret
Wilkins
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
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