All's Fair in Love and War: Four Enemies-to-Lovers Medieval Romances

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All's Fair in Love and War: Four Enemies-to-Lovers Medieval Romances Page 22

by Claire Delacroix


  “Aye, sir. I am glad that you agree.” The miller bowed. “Although we are indebted to the Lady Melissande for sending us two guards.”

  “Was there a guard before?”

  “My son, my lord, then no other.”

  Quinn did not approve of that. “Did the Captain of the Guard not see fit to ensure your defense?”

  The miller dropped his gaze. “He believed that after we had been robbed once, there would not be another attack.”

  Bayard and Quinn exchanged a quick glance, and Quinn knew he was not alone in his suspicions.

  “You have another treasury,” Amaury suggested quietly and the miller’s eyes widened with shock.

  He stammered a protest, but Quinn could see the truth.

  “Millers always do,” Amaury continued, his conviction making Quinn aware yet again of how little he knew of such matters.

  The miller bowed his head in silent agreement.

  “Do the thieves know of it?” Quinn asked.

  “Who can say, my lord?”

  “They might guess, as Amaury did,” Bayard noted.

  “Indeed,” Quinn said.

  “You cannot think they will return?” the miller asked in dismay. “Surely not thrice in one season?”

  “I see no reason why they would not,” Quinn said, not wanting to deceive the miller. “But this time, we shall be prepared for them. If we are wrong, then I will not regret it.”

  “Nor I, sir.”

  “We must lay in stores for a great bonfire this day, and stack it that it might be lit on a whim. I will post a sentry at Annossy to watch for the fire, and if it burns, we will ride immediately to your defense.”

  Quinn gestured to Lothair and Niall as they returned. “These are my comrades, who fought by my side in Palestine against the infidels. I would trust them with my life, and so I often have.” The miller and his wife eyed the two knights, who did look most formidable. “I leave them to defend you.”

  “But we are here to defend the mill,” one of the men-at-arms protested.

  “No longer,” Quinn said with resolve. “You will return to Annossy.”

  “But the Captain of the Guard entrusted us with this task,” protested the other.

  “We take our orders only from Gaultier,” said the first.”

  “That has changed,” Quinn said with soft heat and the second man flushed. They both dropped their gazes. “I am now Lord d’Annossy. I instruct you to return to Annossy and serve in its defense now.”

  The first warrior’s expression turned mutinous and he spoke tightly. “Aye, my lord.”

  Quinn turned to face him fully, removed his glove, and extended his hand. “I would have you pledge fealty now, before you return to Annossy.”

  The pair hesitated only a moment but did exchange a glance before stepping forward. Each dropped to one knee and bowing his head before Quinn. He took their vow of service but did not believe it was heartfelt. Perhaps they liked this assignment far from their superior’s eye. Perhaps the miller’s wife was a good cook. They both appeared to be a little more plump that Quinn thought a fighting man should be.

  Or perhaps they knew more of the raids than they chose to admit. They might even be in league with the brigands. Quinn knew only that he could not dismiss his sense that they were deceptive.

  He gestured after they had made their pledge and Bayard led them to the task of laying the wood for the signal fire.

  The miller took his wife’s hand when they were gone, his agitation clear. “I pray you would ride quickly if that fire is lit, sir.”

  “Aye, with all haste. And now one choice is yours alone to make.” Quinn dropped his voice as he conferred with the miller and his wife. “We would have greater chance of success if all believe that the sole change is the arrival of my men and the laid fire.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “That would mean that you continue with your established routine.”

  “And that I remain here, as well as our grandson,” the miller’s wife said, seeing his import before her husband.

  “I cannot command you to do as much,” Quinn said. “For there is peril in the choice. It must be your own.”

  “Did you kill infidels in Palestine, sir?” that woman demanded.

  “Many of them, and I saw many of our own killed, as well.”

  “I would expect you saw much courage there.”

  Quinn smiled. “And fear, too. Such a war brings out the best and the worst in all involved, I suspect.”

  “We are at war here, sir,” she said. “The stakes are not so high as the recapture of Jerusalem, but I would see these villains caught and put to justice.”

  “As would I.”

  “Your scheme would be more likely to succeed if I remained?”

  “I believe as much.”

  Her lips tightened. “Then I will stay, my lord. And I will stand vigil with my husband.”

  Quinn smiled. “I thank you for such courage.”

  “This is our home, sir. We defend what is our own.” She nodded at Lothair. “If you are willing to teach me, sir, I would learn some of your skill while you are here.”

  Lothair nodded. “That distance to Annossy can be too much if there is illness. We shall talk about the healing plants and their uses.”

  The miller’s wife beamed with satisfaction. “I knew all would be well when the Lady Melissande took a husband,” she said with a nod. “There were others who said she should choose with greater haste, but her family have always ensured the welfare of those beneath their hand.”

  “And I will see that tradition continued,” Quinn vowed, to their obvious satisfaction. “And what of your grandson? Would you keep him here or have us escort him back to Annossy?”

  “He could remain with Xavier in the village,” the miller said.

  “Let him choose,” his wife said. “He knows the risk and I would be glad of his companionship, but the choice must be his. Our new lord is wise in this matter.”

  Quinn turned to the boy who nodded with a resolve that showed his resemblance to his grandmother. “I will stay, sir.”

  Quinn nodded approval of that. “Have you a knife?”

  The boy nodded and produced it. It was a better blade than Quinn had feared it might be.

  “Niall will instruct you in its use for defense while he is here,” he offered.

  “Like a knight’s training, sir!”

  Quinn smiled. “Not quite, but such skill as he can teach you will be of use no matter what your trade.”

  The miller nodded approval, then took his wife’s hand and dropped to his knees.

  “Let us pledge our fealty to the new Lord d’Annossy,” he said. His wife nodded and followed suit, and Quinn looked up in time to see Amaury’s nod of approval.

  He would master this responsibility yet.

  Niall had found tracks at the ford, hoof prints embedded in the frozen mud on the far bank. After the wood for the fire was laid and the miller supplied with tinder, Quinn made to take his leave. The knights conferred over the tracks and agreed that there was evidence of two or perhaps three palfreys. Two tracks were distinctive, one showing a nick from the shoe and a second in which a nail from the shoe made a larger impression. The tracks led into the forest on the far bank, then were lost in the undergrowth there.

  “You see?” one of the men-at-arms said. “They escaped and, with horses, they could be in Rome by now.”

  Quinn doubted that this man had been through the Beauvoir pass of late, but he merely nodded agreement and surveyed the surroundings. There was no place within any proximity for horses to be stabled or bandits to be hidden.

  Save the mill itself.

  Kudon, indeed.

  “I would ask you two to take the road back to Annossy, and seek any signs of horses on either side of that path,” Quinn instructed the two men-at-arms. “Bayard will ride with you and explain my orders to Gaultier once you arrive at Annossy.”

  The pair exchanged glances, their suspi
cion clear.

  Quinn kept his expression bland. “The day is so fine that I would hunt before returning to Annossy. Such a forest as this must be thick with game!”

  “Deer and pheasant abound, sir,” supplied Robert.

  “Ah! How I have missed the hunt,” Quinn lied. “We have neither beaters nor dogs, Amaury, but I say we shall make a fine day of it all the same.”

  “Indeed,” Amaury agreed with enthusiasm and they laughed together as if carefree.

  Bayard led the pair toward Annossy, and Quinn spoke quickly to his fellows, telling them of Kudon.

  “You think the villains might have circled back to the mill?” Amaury asked when they were alone.

  “I cannot see where else three horses could hide.”

  “Nor I,” Lothair said. “And that pair know more than they have confessed. You are wise to keep a closer eye upon them.”

  “Better yet, I may dismiss them from service, should I find an excuse,” Quinn said. “I would be curious to know who they might tell of whatever they know.”

  “And what of that second treasury?” Niall asked.

  “When they are long gone, we shall leave a token within it,” Quinn said softly and Amaury laughed. “This task of administration is not so different from making war.”

  “Not when there is a villain or a spy at loose,” Amaury agreed. Niall and Lothair returned to the mill, intent upon seeing all set to rights. Amaury gestured down the river toward the bridge. “Let us look for tracks.”

  “Then a deer, if we can manage it. I see you brought your crossbow.”

  Amaury smiled. “There is not so much meat in the larder. I thought to be a good guest, if my lord host were inclined to hunt.”

  “Melissande told me as much this morn, but it was when she brought the stirrup cup. I did not fetch a crossbow.”

  Amaury bowed and surrendered the weapon. “Your holding, Quinn, so you must loose the first bolt.”

  “More than that, I would be of aid in seeing Annossy well-supplied.”

  “You would win your lady’s favor, whatever the price,” Amaury teased.

  “Can you blame me? She is my lady wife and her happiness is my sole goal.”

  “You should tell her as much,” the other knight advised.

  “I fear she would not believe me,” Quinn said. “Nay, I would tempt her affection with deeds not words.”

  Amaury nodded and glanced back toward the mill. Bayard and the men-at-arms were out of sight. They two rode down the hill on opposite sides of the river, keeping their horses well back from the flowing water. “Here,” Amaury said, pointing to the ground at the same time that Quinn pointed down on the mill side of the river.

  The hoof prints were evident on both banks, the steeds having gone down the river on the far side and returned on the side where the mill stood. Amaury and Quinn followed the returning tracks into the forest, lost them again, then rode back toward the mill slowly. Quinn dismounted outside the small barn beside the mill and crouched down, considering the tracks left by the three horses that had left for Annossy. There was fresh mud there and new tracks from the palfreys of the men-at-arms.

  He indicated a nick in the shoe of one horse and the mark of a protruding nail in another print, then met Amaury’s gaze. The other knight nodded. The tracks were the same.

  “You have your brigands,” Amaury murmured.

  “But not their leader,” Quinn said. “There might well have been three. Let us speak to the miller for a moment before we ride to hunt.”

  Eleven

  Melissande could not give credence to Gaultier’s accusation.

  She might not have wed Quinn of her own accord, but she could not believe that he would contrive such a wicked scheme. She was not even certain he had spoken to Heloise before the wedding feast, and he might not have even known that Tulley had a niece. As vexed as he had been with her, he had never injured her. Indeed, he had been gentle, and had introduced her to the marital debt with much patience. She could not imagine that he meant to ensure her demise.

  It could have been readily done by now, if so.

  It was curious that she already possessed such a strong conviction of Quinn’s sense of honor and his reliability. Truly, if he had not been Jerome’s son, she might have chosen him of her own accord.

  There was a startling realization.

  Melissande sat down hard in the great hall to consider how readily she abandoned the truths that she knew. Was she detecting the truth of her new husband, or was he deceiving her with great skill?

  Berthe came bustling down the stairs in that moment, much her usual self in the knights’ absence. “Look, my lady!” she cried, shaking out a length of blue cloth.

  Melissande was glad to be sitting down for the realization of what her maid carried was like a knife to her heart.

  It was her father’s tabard, embroidered with the insignia of Annossy. The wool was blue of deepest sapphire and Melissande recalled her mother fussing over the hue in the market at Tulley, then choosing the deepest blue. Berthe came and spread it proudly on Melissande’s lap and she fingered it, with tears in her eyes. Her mother had embroidered the insignia and Melissande had been entrusted with the hem.

  She had seen the tabard last when her father had died at the board, not three paces from where she sat in this moment.

  “I thought he was buried in it,” she managed to say.

  Berthe shook her head. “I remember the priest thought it wasteful for the cloth is good and he said there would be a new Lord d’Annossy. He ordered the tabard removed before the coffin was sealed.”

  “I do not recall that detail.” Melissande looked up at her maid, who smiled.

  “Because you did not know, my lady,” she said gently. “Louis took charge of all in those few days when you mourned your father, as was good and right. You could not have found a better man to trust with your responsibilities.” She shook out the tabard. “And there has not been a single moth! There is a sign that it was meant to be worn again.”

  “Or that the sweet woodruff has been placed in the trunk.”

  “Aye.” Berthe held up the garment. “Do you think it broad enough for Lord Quinn’s shoulders?”

  “Perhaps,” Melissande said. “There is but one way to know.”

  “Indeed!” Berthe beckoned toward the stairs and the small fair squire, Michel, came down, carrying another burden. “I asked for his aid and his counsel as to Lord Quinn’s requirements. He is a good boy,” she whispered to Melissande.

  Michel carried another length of wool and Melissande recognized it as well. It was the fur-lined cloak that her father had worn, of generous cut and heavy wool. Its hue was deep blue, as well, and the fur lining was silver miniver.

  “Still in good repair,” Berthe said. “’Twould be a shame for Lord Quinn to be cold when there is no need.”

  “Indeed,” Melissande said, though she felt as if the breath had been stolen from her lungs. “I suppose there are chemises and chausses, as well.”

  Michel nodded. “The chemises will be most welcome, my lady, if you can spare them. Lord Quinn possesses only two plus the one granted to him by Lord Tulley. It is a bit small and the other two are much mended.”

  “Then take them, of course.”

  “Aye, my lady.” He bowed and smiled, then at Berthe’s nod, returned to the solar.

  And so, more of her father’s possessions were claimed by Quinn. Melissande knew she should not place too much value on old garments that could be put to use. They were only cloth, though they carried many memories for her.

  “The hem is torn,” she said, fingering the tabard. “If you will fetch my sewing needles, I can mend it before my lord husband’s return.”

  “Of course, my lady,” Berthe said with approval.

  Melissande’s heart sank. This would be her life. Waiting for her husband, plying her needle and doing as she was bidden.

  She supposed it would be worse if she did not conceive.

 
Gaultier could not be right about Quinn’s intentions.

  There was a sound of horses stamping in the bailey and the maid’s head snapped up, her attention seized by the rumble of men’s voices. Melissande watched as one voice became clear, then Bayard strode into the hall, his expression grim, with two men-at-arms fast behind him.

  It was the two men that Gaultier had sent to defend the mill.

  What was this?

  Berthe’s eyes lit and she remained at Melissande’s side as the knight approached. He spared the maid no more than a glance, then bowed before Melissande. “My lady, my lord Quinn bids me tell you that all is well at the mill and he has ridden to hunt. He will return as soon as possible.”

  Melissande stood, her gaze flicking to the two men-at-arms standing behind Bayard. “But how can all be well?” she asked. “These are the men assigned to guard the mill.”

  “My lord Quinn has chosen to leave two of his comrades there instead,” Bayard said. “Niall and Lothair will see to the mill’s defense now.”

  One of the men-at-arms inhaled sharply and the lips of the other had drawn to a thin line. It was clear that they did not approve of their lord’s choice. She did not have to look for Gaultier: he had stepped into the hall, his expression dark and his arms folded across his chest. She met Bayard’s gaze and found his attention locked upon her, his eyes seeming even darker than she knew them to be.

  This was a test of her loyalty to her husband’s command. She did not doubt that her response would be reported to Quinn in detail.

  Melissande inclined her head, hiding the rebellion that rose hot within her. She would tell Quinn her opinion of this in private. “I am glad to hear that my lord husband has had such success on this day and eagerly await his return.” She sat down, arranging her skirts, and picked up the tabard to mend it. “I can only assume that you have instructions for Gaultier regarding these men’s duties now that they are returned to Annossy?”

  “Aye, my lady,” Bayard said with approval.

  “Then I grant you leave to deliver them and thank you for the courtesy of bearing me tidings.” It took all within Melissande not to ask more questions of Quinn’s plans, but she reminded herself that the defense of the holding was the lord’s responsibility.

 

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