Defy Not the Heart

by Johanna Lindsey

  "No one has asked you!" both men said at once, and with a good deal of exasperation.

  Reina grinned, satisfied she had made her point. "True, but you see," she told both men, "I would not be here to give my opinion were I not awaiting punishment. And I would not be awaiting punishment if I had not forced my husband to see his father. If I am to suffer for arranging this meeting, you can both suffer my opinion."

  "Which we have done, but no longer," Ranulf rumbled. "Get you gone, lady, now."

  "You have decided to forgive me, then?"

  "What I have decided is to let you dread the com­ing night after all. Go about your duties, Reina. I will attend you later."

  She gave him a sour look ere she stalked to the door. "I always knew you were a dog-hearted clod-pate. See if I ever do you another favor!"

  There was silence after the door slammed shut. Hugh deliberately avoided Ranulf's eyes, fearing he would laugh did he witness his son's chagrin after that set-down. Did he have a sense of humor, it would not matter. But that was one of many things he did not know about his son, he realized. And if the lady had done anyone a favor, 'twas him. He would not like to see her hurt for it.

  "Do you intend to beat her?"

  "With these hands?" Ranulf snorted. "I mean to lesson her, not kill her. Besides, she has it in her marriage contract that I cannot take my fists to her."

  "The terms of a marriage contract bear little weight in the heat of the moment."

  "I have lived with this strength all my life, my lord. I was afeard to even touch the lady, she is so tiny. There is naught that she could ever say or do to make me forget that, so you need not be concerned for her. She will have no more than the flat of my hand on her backside."

  Hugh chuckled. "A method I have found the need to use on occasion myself.''

  "Does it work?"

  "Aye, though the result is not always worth the months of regret a woman can make you feel after­ward—that is, if you bear feeling for her."

  Ranulf grinned. "Then you might find interesting a suggestion I had from a whore ..."

  Reina had gone no farther than the antechamber, where she paced in an effort to work off her temper. When she heard the deep laughter, she stopped and re­laxed. So her gamble had paid off. She went below smiling, certain she no longer had to worry about any punishments.

  Chapter Forty

  Reina, went about her duties that afternoon feeling a good deal of smugness. Learning that Ranulf had taken his father out for a tour of Clydon only in­creased that feeling. He might not like her methods, but at least they bore results. He was reconciled with his father. The bitterness that had long festered inside him would be gone, leaving him a happier man, and thereby one easier to deal with. Could she pat herself on the back, she would have done so.

  She spent some time with Walter and apprised him of what had happened, both yesterday and today. She no longer worried about his wounds. He had devel­oped no fever, and Florette was keeping close atten­dance on him, which had much to do with why he was not complaining about the needed bed rest. In a week he should be up and about, though he would still have to go easy for a while.

  It had been a surprise, however, to recall the pris­oners, Warhurst, and Lord Richard in the telling. She could not even answer Walter's questions, for she did not know whether Ranulf had sent a man to Warhurst as he had intended. He had as like forgotten, too, considering all that had happened this morn.

  She still could not believe Lord Richard was ca­pable of such despicable tyranny. She decided to speak with the outlaw leader herself, and did, but came away unconvinced. Yet the man was so very sincere, he did manage to plant a few doubts and "what ifs," but not enough to matter. It came down to her own instincts, which rarely failed her, as well as her father's keen judgment of character, which was even less fallible. He had liked Richard, had approved of him as a husband for her. They could not both be so wrong about a man.

  Reina did not brood on it for long. That smugness was still there to make her think of other things, her husband in particular. She was not going to let Ranulf forget that he owed her his gratitude, especially since he had come so close to punishing her instead. He would not have admitted it, but she had known he carried deep feelings for his father despite the resent­ment that was*on the surface. The man would never have been able to hurt him otherwise.

  Reina was back in the hall when they returned and had an opportunity to watch them cross the long room unawares. The difference in manner was remarkable. They laughed, they touched, they were as two never separated, and in looks, they were more like brothers than father and son. Verily, Hugh was not even two score in years yet. He was a man any maiden Reina's age or even younger would look on with favor—just as her husband was. And as usual, every woman in her hall was doing just that. 'Twas something she would simply have to get used to, she supposed.

  A nod to a servant brought forward a platter of sweetmeats and cheese. She had not forgotten that neither man had touched his dinner earlier, and sup­per would not be ready for a while yet. She had sat­isfied her own hunger with a simple trip to the kitchens, where she had also collected Lady Ella. It was a veritable devil inside her that made her toy with the idea of introducing the cat to Ranulf s father. The only thing that decided her against it was the risk that Hugh might not see the humor in the name Ranulf had chosen for his scrawny cat. She did not want to upset this boat she had set on such a steady course.

  Lady Ella was now curled at her feet by the hearth, having held no grudge over losing her sleeping quar­ters. At least she was still as friendly as ever when­ever Ranulf was not around. But his voice woke her ere he was even half across the room, and she went bounding toward him to leap into his arms. Typical. Heaven forbid he should happen to see her resting companionably at someone else's feet.

  Reina wondered if Ranulf felt at ease enough with his father to introduce the cat. Whether he did or not, she did not think the matter of a name had come up, though they were talking cats as they drew nearer.

  "Nay," Hugh was saying. "I have become accus­tomed to them over the years. My wife has three that she even allows in our chamber. I have tried numer­ous times to get them ousted, but with no luck."

  "My lady could tell you just how to get rid of them, for she managed to oust mine right quickly."

  "Ah, but what works for her would not work for me, or have you not realized yet that though we men have the final say, our ladies will win most every ar­gument in the end to get what they want."

  "Bite your tongue," Ranulf retorted, though there was laughter in his violet eyes. "I expect to win at least half the arguments in this household—one way or another."

  Reina was blushing by the time they reached her. That was not a discussion she cared to hear or get involved in.

  "Did you have a pleasant ride, my lords?"

  "Indeed," Hugh replied. "Though I must confess I was hoping to find a few areas where my advice might be needful for improvements. Instead I learned a thing or two I intend to implement on my own lands. You have my compliments, lady. Clydon is as pros­perous as I had heard."

  "That is to my father's credit, not mine," Reina replied. "He was at heart a farmer, and loved the land."

  "And his daughter is too modest," Ranulf added. "She has kept the entire estate running so well there is little for me to do other than see to its defenses."

  "Do not belittle the importance of that, my lord. It takes only a single act of aggression to lay waste to years of hard work."

  Hugh grinned. "She has you there, Ranulf. No de­mesne can prosper long without a lord capable of pro­tecting it. I am sure the lady took that into consideration ere she allowed herself to be 'smitten' by your charms."

  Ranulf guffawed with laughter. Reina smiled her­self. "So you told him of our unusual courtship, did you?"

  "He managed to wrest a few details from me," Ranulf admitted as he dropped Ella on the bench be­side her.

  "I-can well imagine which ones
," Reina snorted, though she was in fact amused. "But come, rest your­selves." She stood up to pour them each a goblet of wine. Handing one to Hugh, she said, "I do not in­tend to be remiss in my duties again, my lord. I have a chamber readied for you do you care to refresh yourself before the evening meal. Theodric will show you the way when you are—"

  "Theodric will not," Ranulf interrupted sharply. "Lady, you would not dare."

  "Would not dare what?" Reina asked sweetly. "Eadwina awaits to assist your father. Theo will only show him the way to the east tower when he is ready.''

  "Oh," was all RaHulf said to that.

  "Is something amiss?" Hugh asked.

  "Not at all, my lord," Reina assured him, picking up her own goblet, but sparing a wry smile for her husband. "And now I would like to propose a toast. To new beginnings—" She paused, and her smile turned to a satisfied smirk. She really could not help it. "—that need only a tiny nudge to get started." * Hugh chuckled. Ranulf did not. And then a new voice was heard from that gave Reina a start, as well as her father-by-marriage.

  "I hope I am not interrupting."

  "This is a surprise, Richard," Hugh said, and he was indeed surprised, uncomfortably so under the cir­cumstances. "I believe you are well acquainted with my son, Lady Reina?"

  Reina did not answer. She had spewed her wine as she made the connection and was now busy choking. She sat down heavily but was quick to wave away Ranulf's assistance. She did not care to be pounded on the back by him and end up sprawled on the floor just now. He, fortunately, did not yet realize who Richard was—other than he was his brother.

  "Are you all right, lady?" both Hugh and Richard asked.

  "Indeed," Reina rasped and set her goblet down. "A bad brew," she added by way of explanation.

  Hugh nodded and glanced at Ranulf, but as he looked only mildly curious over this turn of events, Hugh gave his attention back to Richard. "How is it you discovered I was traveling to Warhurst?"

  "I did not," Richard replied. "Actually, I was on my way to Lyonsford, but wanted to pay my respects to Lady Reina, as I have not visited Clydon for some­time. I was not aware you were acquainted with the lady, father."

  "I was not, until this morn. My baggage wain broke down, or I would not have stopped here, with Warhurst so close."

  Reina was not paying attention to this conversation. She was watching her husband and knew the moment his ignorance ended. He was sitting next to her on the bench, so that she heard hw sharp intake of breath and the even louder expulsion. Then his eyes "came to her, glowing with furious accusation, and she could do no more than flinch.

  Well, 'twas her own fault. Had she been paying attention when Gilbert introduced Hugh to her, she would have known he was not only Ranulf s father but Richard's, too, and she could have given Ranulf warning. Lyonsford, the very family her own father had approved an alliance with, and she had made that alliance unawares.

  This was too funny, though she did not dare laugh just now. She had wanted to marry one brother, had ended up marrying the other, and did not even know it—and neither did they. And now her husband thought she had deliberately tried to keep the truth from him and would continue to think so until they were alone and she could explain. Nay, why should she wait? They were all family, after all.

  '' Tis not what you think, Ranulf, so you can stop scowling at me like that. I was so surprised when your father walked in here this morn that I did not hear him introduced to me. 'Tis as simple as that."

  "Is it?" he growled.

  "Very well, give me one reason why I would not tell you your brother is now your neighbor if I knew it. You were like to find out soon enough, if your father did not tell you first, so why should I keep it from you?"

  "For spite."

  "I am not Lady—" Jesu, she almost said "Anne," but she was not supposed to know of her, and she could not betray Walter's confidence. "Never mind," she finished stiffly, annoyed that she could offer no better defense, further annoyed that she should need one. "If you think that, then you do not know me at all."

  There must have been enough disappointment in her voice to make an impression, for the moment she turned away, Ranulfs hand drew her back. "I am sorry," he said gruffly, and she knew it was not just words, that he actually was. He looked too embar­rassed not to be. "There is just too much converging on me at once here."

  She knew exactly how he felt, and so smiled en­couragingly. "Naught that cannot be dealt with, my lord." And then she leaned closer to whisper, "The key is to take the situation in hand and assume control of it—like this." His alarmed look made her add, "Relax. You will not be on the receiving end this time."

  Reina turned to the two men still standing. They had ceased their own conversation, though how much they had heard of hers she could not guess. But Rich­ard did not look at ease, not in the least.

  He was a half foot shorter than his father, with curly brown hair and gray eyes usually as merry as Searle's, but there was no humor in them now. Hugh was right: this son of his bore absolutely no resem­blance to him. That was not unusual. What was un­usual was the striking resemblance Ranulf bore to Hugh, which Richard could not mistake. He had once told her that he had cousins and uncles on his father's side whom he had never met. Had he assumed Ranulf to be one of these when he first saw him, she could understand his disconcertion now if he had heard her say they were brothers. Even if he had not heard that, suspicions would not be long m coming.

  "Well, Lord Hugh, as well as your father managed to keep Ranulf a secret from Richard's relatives, you must allow the secret is now ended. Do you intend to introduce your sons to each other, or should I?"

  Suspicions might have been forming, but confir­mation sent Richard stumbling toward a seat. Hugh frowned at Reina, but she ignored him, ignored Ran­ulf, too, who was also frowning at the abruptness of her disclosure. She was more interested in Richard's reaction, which was not just surprise, but alarm. Now why should that be? He was his father's heir, so named in his will. Did he think that would change now? He might, if he thought his father also had only just discovered Ranulf s existence.

  "You really did not know, did you, Richard?" she asked more gently, remembering belatedly that this man had always been a friend to her.

  "Nay," he replied, and looked to his father. "Did you?"

  "For many years now," Hugh admitted.

  "And you never thought to tell me? You did not think I would find it of interest to know you have another bastard, one older than I?"

  He made this heated accusation in a tone and ex­pression so unlike himself that Reina was startled. Ranulf was not, she saw, but of course Ranulf did not know Richard's usual easygoing manner. Hugh was not surprised either, however, so mayhap he had been witness to such an outburst before. But Reina had not been, and this Richard was so different from the one she knew that she was forced to recall all the outlaw had told her in a new light. She had thought it im­possible that Richard could be of two such different characters, but in fact it was not.

  "I never found a reason to tell you," Hugh was saying. "Due to unfortunate misunderstandings, I have been estranged from Ranulf all these years."

  "And now you are not?" Richard demanded.

  "I am pleased to say that is so," Hugh replied, and then more sharply, "Your upset is understandable but uncalled-for, Richard. This does not change your own circumstance. What I was coming to Warhurst to tell you does, however. You learn today that you have not only a half brother but also a half sister, Elisabeth, born to my lady wife last month."

  Richard paled at this news. Reina glanced quickly at Ranulf to see he was not surprised. Hugh had ob­viously already told him he had a sister, and he was not in the least displeased. Well, it did not matter to him one way or the other, did it? But to Richard it did, and where an estate the size of Lyonsford was concerned, it no doubt mattered a great deal.

  But Hugh was not finished. "The terms wrested from me at your birth, Richard, were unreasonable and never meant to fu
lly apply. That my wife re­mained barren for so long mayhap has led you to anticipate more from me, but that is not to be. I gave you Warhurst. You needs be satisfied with that."

  "Why? Because 'tis more than a bastard should expect? You forget who my grandfather was!"

  "Nay, I do not forget," Hugh said coldly, finally giving reign to his displeasure with this son. " 'Twas my father who gave a damn, not I."

  Richard could not deal with all of this at once. A sister was not real to him. A baby, and babies died. Ranulf was real, however; there, watching him make a fool of himself, which he could not seem to help.

  "And what do you give to him, father?" Richard sneered, glaring furiously at Ranulf.

  He paled again, however, when Ranulf stood up to accept the unspoken challenge. Reina stood up, too, to step between them. There would be no fighting in her hall if she could help it. But 'twas Hugh who defused the sudden tension.

  "Not that it is any of your concern, Richard, but what I give to him was given long ago, when he reached his tenth year, so 'tis no longer a part of Lyonsford. The transaction was approved by the king, the property to be turned over to Ranulf when he reached twenty years and five. 'Tis no town like War­hurst, merely a small keep, but I know for a certainty he will be well satisfied."

  "Will be?" Richard laughed derisively, obviously seeing some humor in this. "You waited this long to even tell him?"

  Reina could have kicked the young lord. Sweet Jesii, had she really thought to marry him, this greedy, vindictive, whining boy-man? More and more she was beginning to give credence to the prisoner's tale.

  She said in a whispered aside to Ranulf, who stood behind her, "He told you of Elisabeth. Did he give you warning of this, too?" He did not answer, forc­ing her to turn enough to see him. His expression was answer enough. "So he did not," she hissed.