Unbidden (The Evolution Series)

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Unbidden (The Evolution Series) Page 31

by Jill Hughey


  She nodded. “I did not know my own feelings until I had begun to ruin everything. But I will never give you cause to doubt my loyalty or my love.”

  “Hush, sweetling. I told you everything would be as it should be after the tournament, and here we are, naked and in love, just as I wanted to be the first time I entered this room.”

  She smiled and snuggled against him. “If I had known how pleasurable a husband could be, I would have grabbed you that very day.”

  “And I would have had my way with you,” he growled. “You, with that gold girdle in your hands, and I, who have never made love in a proper bed, would have started with a kiss.”

  “Yes,” she breathed against his lips. As they let their imaginations take them back in time to a more innocent beginning, the last of the shadows between them melted away, as if they were a young couple that had enjoyed a perfectly blissful courtship.

  He woke in the night, lying still as awareness of his surroundings permeated his consciousness. He smiled as he remembered. He rolled to lean on his elbow, reaching across to stroke Rochelle’s hair where it cascaded over the pillow. It was dark in the room, but he could see everything in his mind. The tub still full of cold bathwater. The tray of food, only half a loaf of bread left on it. The curve of his wife’s cheek.

  “What is the matter?” she asked groggily, without moving.

  “Where are we, Rochelle?” he whispered, letting his fingers comb through her tresses now that she was awake.

  “We are home,” she replied, her voice almost childlike in its sleepiness.

  His smile broadened. “I thought so.” He snuggled against her. “Go back to sleep, sweetling. We are home.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Bliss never lasts. It cannot. Happiness requires the contrast of discord, or sadness, or anger to make its moments stand apart. Of course, their happiness would have lasted much longer if not for the arrival of Rochelle’s least favorite person in the world.

  It was late afternoon, three weeks after their return home. David and Rochelle sat side by side on the bench at the table. She was showing him how she determined the yields from each field, and what should be planted in it the spring. He had been catching on well, and she had enjoyed the day. Until the front door opened. David leaped up at the sight of his brother, eager to grip him in their usual masculine clasp.

  Rochelle’s heart sank to her toes. She had never told David of her suspicions about his brother at the tournament, nor had she asked what Louis and Theo had told him of their own. She’d assumed Doeg had gone to Bavaria for the entire winter, and thus was well gone from their sphere for months at least. His arrival this late in November suggested he might be intending to winter with them, an arrangement she did not think she could bear.

  Rochelle rose, knowing David would expect her to at least offer Doeg a courteous greeting. Her welcome nearly choked her, but she kept her face carefully blank. David returned to her and slid an arm around her waist to haul her up against him.

  Doeg grimaced. “Ah, the picture of connubial bliss.”

  “I highly recommend it,” David retorted.

  “You are hard at work, I see,” Doeg commented, pointing at the table strewn with parchment.

  “Yes, we are making some decisions about the spring planting.”

  “Already?” Doeg asked sharply.

  David glanced at Rochelle, who smoothly interjected. “I like to be sure I have enough grain held back for seeding.”

  “Oh, yes of course, that,” Doeg muttered. “So, brother, what are you planting in the spring?”

  As they moved toward the chairs by the fire, David gave a fair description of how Rochelle usually alternated her crops, and how she determined when to leave a field fallow. “Even now, there are men tilling up some grass so the fields are ready. It is long, slow work.”

  Rochelle sat away from them and behind David, studying Doeg’s reactions. He seemed intensely interested in her farming practices, eager for the simplest detail that she, quite frankly, thought he would already know since he stood to inherit an estate.

  “How go your own preparations for winter at Calx, Doeg?” David asked, exhibiting a bit of pride at being a landowner in his own right.

  “Atrum Calx is Father’s domain, as you know,” Doeg answered.

  “You have been there?”

  “Yes.”

  “And how is Father?”

  “That is partly why I have returned. I think it would be helpful if you come to Bavaria with me, just for a short visit.”

  “Why? Is he ill?”

  “No, just concerned about you.”

  Rochelle slid to the very edge of her seat, feeling her pulse quicken. What are you up to now, she wanted to scream. But with David’s trust in her so newly regained, she held her tongue.

  David laughed. “Our father has never been concerned about me before. Why now?”

  “How should I know?” Doeg said hotly. “I am asking you to come and that should be enough.”

  David’s voice became firm. “Doeg, I have been traipsing all over the country since last spring and I have just been married. I intend to stay here for the winter. If Father is that concerned he should have come here with you.”

  Doeg’s eyes glittered in that way that made Rochelle’s skin crawl, but he smiled, “You know Father no longer travels. Of course we, being bachelors, did not know that you would want to remain closeted with your new wife for a time.”

  Rochelle had hoped to escape the next day by taking a ride with her husband, but found Doeg trailing along. He made her stiff and out of sorts. She missed the easy camaraderie she and David had developed. Doeg continued to ask how and why things were done in particular ways, always addressing David, who often had to defer to Rochelle. She sensed a rising irritability in her husband as the afternoon wore on.

  When they crossed a ridge, David pointed to a field below where several men worked. “That is a fallow field they are turning,” he said.

  Rochelle scowled toward the workers. The men were not tilling, they were loading rocks on a cart. “I wonder why they are moving those rocks now,” she asked, intending the question to be rhetorical.

  “Oh, I told them to yesterday morning when I was here,” David replied. “They looked like good stones for building the forge so I asked them to take them to the site.”

  “You have chosen a site?” Rochelle asked carefully.

  “Yes, over by the river. There is a good flat spot.”

  “Oh.”

  “Do you want to see it?”

  Doeg piped up, “Yes, let us see it!” He eyed Rochelle imperiously as they kneed their horses forward.

  Rochelle’s heart sank when she saw David’s chosen spot.

  “What do you think?” he asked eagerly. “I tried to find a place that would not affect the existing operations on the estate.”

  “Yes, I see that. Uh, perhaps you and I could talk about this more privately.”

  “We are private. Doeg is my brother.”

  “I know, it is just that I would feel more comfortable —”

  “Out with it,” David said firmly, annoyed at the realization that she did not approve of the location.

  Stunned by his demand, then feeling a surge of anger, she said exactly what was on her mind. “There is a reason this ground is not in use. It floods nearly every spring and is a swamp until at least July.”

  David looked crestfallen as he turned to study the river and the lay of the land. “Yes, I can see that now.”

  “Further up, then,” Doeg called from the rise. “Surely it is high enough here.”

  “It is drier there,” Rochelle admitted, “but there are other things to consider.”

  “Such as?” David queried, irritated again.

  Rochelle turned Regret so that her back was to Doeg. “I think it would be advantageous to be closer to a road and some people. I guess I had pictured it nearer the house, or perhaps the vineyards, where there is already a great deal o
f activity.” This was an outright lie. She hadn’t really pictured the forge anywhere at all, but it clearly meant a great deal to David to find a location.

  Some of the tension on David’s face eased. “You would not mind having it closer to everything?”

  “Not at all. I think it should be. You intend for it to be a place of commerce, do you not?”

  David nodded. “I will go tell the men to stop with the rocks for now, until we find a more suitable spot.”

  Doeg protested. “David, if you want it here, then here it should be. It is your estate, after all.”

  “No, Rochelle is right. We will find a better place.” He galloped off to the northwest, the direction from which they had come.

  Doeg glared at his brother’s retreating back then turned on her. “You must be good in bed,” he seethed. “Not only has he forgiven you, but he is listening to you as eagerly as his dog does.”

  Her already tried temper soared at his impertinence. “Did you just compare your brother to a dog? If you believe that, you do not know him at all,” Rochelle spat out. “And I wonder, Doeg, what wiles can you bring to bear when he learns all you have done? At least I have things to offer in return for his forgiveness: a lifetime of my love, and a home. For his loyalty to you, you offer him nothing but more betrayal.”

  She urged Regret forward, chasing her husband across the fields.

  “David, come home to Calx with me. Just for a week or two,” Doeg urged the next day as they waited around the fire for dinner. The sun had not yet set, but the routine of the entire household had been set on its ear by David’s brother. The day dragged on in eager anticipation of its own end. “Your wife does not want you here meddling in her affairs.”

  Marian glanced up from her embroidery, giving her daughter a significant look. Rochelle had decided yesterday to meet Doeg’s challenges head on. She rose from the table to slide into David’s lap. His arms flew out in surprise then curled around her with a welcoming squeeze.

  “I do want him here,” she purred.

  David smiled serenely. “I have already told you, Doeg, I am not going. Not now.”

  A tentative tapping sounded on the front door. Rochelle jumped up to answer it, with David close behind her.

  “Ardo,” she said with surprise. “Is there a problem?”

  The overseer shifted from foot to foot. “The supplies come from Ribeauville.” His eyes flicked to David and back to her. “But there is some’in missing, and I thought you — you two — should know.”

  “Is the cart at the storehouse?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “Very well, we will come see.”

  She and David walked behind the man until they reached the heavily loaded cart. Samuel and an older man stood at the back in obvious misery. Rochelle instantly noticed chunks of something she had never seen before. “What is that?”

  “Some sort of metal,” Ardo said uneasily.

  “Metal?” she repeated.

  “It is iron bloom,” David said. “Theo was going to find some for me, and I asked Samuel to fetch it.” He picked up a piece with a smile, and turned to show it to Doeg who had, of course, followed them to the storehouse. “I need to it for the forge.”

  Rochelle stared at him, nonplussed, then asked Ardo, “What is missing? You said something was missing from the supplies.”

  “The salt,” he answered sadly.

  “The salt?” she cried. “We need that salt! There are still hogs to be butchered. Who forgot the salt?”

  “Not forgot, my lady. There was too much weight.”

  “The salt was the closest thing in weight to the metal,” Samuel interjected. “You always warn us about overloadin’ the carts.”

  It was simply too much. “So we have iron bloom in place of salted pork for the winter?” she said as calmly as she could manage.

  “But we got the oil, and the rye seed you said we had to get in autumn, and a tiny bit of —”

  She lifted a hand to stop him. “Someone must go back,” she said shortly.

  Her three employees looked at her glumly. “I will go,” Samuel said softly. “It was my mistake, my lady. I know how important is the salt. Can I wait until mornin’ to leave again?”

  “Yes. And check with your master here, and Ardo, and Cook, and your father to make sure this is the last trip before winter. The snow is sure to fly soon.” After inhaling a calming breath, she turned to her husband and brother-in-law. “Pardon me,” she said in her most politely controlled voice. She walked as normally as possible toward the stables, certain her head was going to fly off her shoulders. When out of earshot, she cursed through clenched teeth, “God in heaven! Even the details I have tended to get all mucked up!”

  “Rochelle, where are you going?” she heard David call behind her.

  “I just need a moment,” she replied as she flung herself behind the stable. Let it go, she told herself over and over as she paced in a tight circle. Just let it go.

  He strode around the corner, his brow furrowed. “What are you doing?”

  “I am trying to remember to be a biddable wife.”

  He sighed. “You are angry.”

  “I do not think we should talk about this right now,” she warned.

  “I will talk to you when I damn well please.”

  She rounded on him, an unfamiliar fire in her eyes that only burned brighter when Doeg, eyes glittering eagerly, crept up to stand beside his brother. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Alright then. Talk,” she said.

  His head cocked. She sensed his reluctance to engage in the argument now that he saw just how angry she was. He couldn’t back down. “I didn’t tell Samuel not to bring the salt.”

  “But you asked him to bring the iron.”

  “Yes.”

  “Without checking with Ardo or me about what else we needed from town.”

  “I only asked the boy to bring the iron if it was there!” he said loudly.

  “And surprise of surprises, guess whose orders are followed first, regardless of what makes sense!” she insisted, warmed to the fight and too outraged to be cowed by his own looming anger.

  “Samuel is going to get the damned salt!”

  “Samuel and a cart and an ox will be away from Alda for four more days, and on the fifth day our people can resume butchering the hogs that continue to consume food. But at least today we have iron bloom, whatever that is! We have no forge and no blacksmith, but thank the Lord above for the iron bloom.”

  Doeg sniffed. “I would have thought you would have had the salt here ages ago if it was really so important.”

  She moved on him so quickly he backed up a step. “You dare criticize me,” she hissed, “you who probably do not even know if there is a pig or an ox or a goat on all of your great land. I do not know how you Bavarians fared this summer, but we have had a very good year. The livestock is fat and healthy, and because of that we need more salt. I will not apologize to you or anyone else for that fact.”

  She shoved her way between them to stalk away.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  David had felt the headache encroaching since early in the day. The packets Rochelle had given him over a month ago were long gone, used in the week after the tournament, the monster in his head awakened by The Black’s poorly aimed rock. He’d hidden his brewing and consumption of them from her, wanting to spare her worry and, if he was brutally honest, his own pride. Of course, his pride was already more than a little bruised by his mistakes of the last few days. He’d been almost to the point of asking Rochelle for a dose of her remedy when Ardo arrived. The ugly scene that followed precluded asking any favors of her.

  He wiped his hand down his face in the dark office while pokers of pain radiated from his forehead, searing precursors of the inferno to come. The salt had not really been his fault, though he could see Rochelle’s side of it. Samuel had fulfilled the master’s orders before the mistress’s. She’d known nothing of David’s needing — well, wanting
— iron bloom, and he’d known nothing about salt or pigs or helping tenants through the winter. This, and Doeg’s constant harassment about coming to Bavaria, was enough to give any man a sore head.

  He braced his elbows on the desk then carefully leaned his head forward into his hands to press his fingers to his temples. He knew he should find Rochelle to ask for her help before he was dragged into the gaping maw of agony that surely awaited him. She might still be angry, but he knew she would never withhold her care from him.

  A light knock at the door drew his attention. “Enter,” he said loudly, though the combination of his voice and the light that poured through the opening portal pushed a torch into his brain. He deliberately lowered his hands and blanked the pain from his face, preferring to settle this argument before she began fretting over him.

  Rochelle approached him tentatively, stopping on the other side of the desk. “I do not wish to end the day at odds with you,” she ventured softly.

  “Nor I with you.”

  She gifted him with a brief tender smile, but took a deep breath, obviously intent on saying her piece. “I know you are eager to learn and contribute, and despite what I have said in the past, I am content to share the load with you. But we must find a way to work together. We have to be pulling in the same direction, or our people and activities will be in constant chaos.”

  “I agree,” he replied. “You should not have spoken of it in front of the men if I am ever to establish myself.”

  “I know,” she agreed. “I should have held my tongue. It is just that I am as comfortable with them as you are with your brother, and in the heat of the moment I said too much. It was wrong of me, and I am sorry for it.”

  Looking back later, for days and days following, he knew this was the moment he should have realized she didn’t know Doeg was in the room with them, sulking in a shadowy corner. David had been enduring his brother’s criticisms of Rochelle and his cajoling for a trip to Bavaria, remaining silent only because of the increasing pain in his head. Doeg had finally stopped talking a few minutes before Rochelle entered.

 

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