“Did it burn out?” Edlyn went and peered in the little door. “Why don’t you have your servant start it?”
“Because when it burned out, you used to start it, so I thought, ‘How hard can it be?’”
Lady Neville’s obvious exasperation made Edlyn burst into laughter. “It took me months to learn to do it, and believe me, if I’d a servant, I would have given the job to her. The main thing I learned was never to let it go out.” Peering inside at the firebox, she scraped out the ashes, then crumpled a handful of punk. “Decayed wood works best as tinder,” she explained. “Decayed wood works best as tinder,” she explained. “I can never get it started with aught else.” Taking the steel from Lady Neville’s limp hands, she struck it against the flint until it sparked, sparked again, and finally caught the tinder. Carefully she blew on the flame, then fed it slivers of wood until it burned enthusiastically.
Lady Neville snatched the firesteel and the flint from beside Edlyn and put them on the table. “I can do the rest,” she snapped.
“I know you can,” Edlyn said soothingly.
They looked at each other, and Lady Neville gave in and laughed. “I’m supposed to take care of the dispensary now that you’re going. Why do you suppose my lady abbess decided that?”
“Probably for the same reason she decided I should be in the dispensary. I have no patience with men like Baron Sadynton with their spurious ills and their petty complaints, and I tell them so.”
“That could be it,” Lady Neville acknowledged. “After your wedding yesterday, he ran into a fist.”
Appalled and surprised, Edlyn asked, “You hit him?”
“Not I.” Lady Neville smiled. “’Twas your husband who did that honor. I merely loudly expressed the opinion he should lie in the dirt of the square and bleed from the nose until his head ran dry.”
In admiration, Edlyn stared at the tall aristocrat who looked like a cat presented with a fat mouse. “I have always liked you.”
Sarcastic, abrasive, Lady Neville didn’t make friends easily, and she stiffened at this confidence. Then, sensing Edlyn’s sincerity, she relaxed. “And I, you. But after my comment, my lady abbess asked that I visit her in her office, and she gave me this task.”
With mock sincerity, Edlyn said, “The patients will be relieved, I’am sure.”
Lady Neville bit her lip to subdue a smirk. “You have the right of it, I’m of an age to say what I like, and no sop of a baron is going to stop me.” She fed a few more twigs onto the growing fire, then straightened. “I know you didn’t want to marry that man, but ’twas the best thing for you and your children.”
Edlyn blinked. did every man and woman think they had the right to express their opinions of her affairs?
“I’ve offended you, I suppose, but without patients to abuse, I must make do with you.” Lady Neville ignored Edlyn’s startled laugh. “When you’re gone from this place, remember me occasionally and give your husband an extra roll in the blankets in my name.”
“You didn’t have to take vows when your husband died, you know,” Edlyn observed.
“I didn’t have children, I had no dower, and I had no desire to live with my pitying relatives as a nursemaid for their brats. Lady Corliss took me in without a dowry, and I’m grateful. I will become a good nun if it takes me the rest of my days.” Lady Neville sighed as she looked at the mess of boxes and herbs tossed about the room. “Which it will.”
Pride had placed Lady Neville here, and pride Edlyn comprehended. “I can’t help you become a good nun, but I can show you the herbs and what they’re used for. Then I’ll take enough to carry me through to my new home.”
Lady Neville brightened. “A fair exchange, indeed.”
For the remainder of the afternoon, Edlyn explained the duties and the remedies to Lady Neville. At the same time, Edlyn discovered the other reason why Lady Corliss had chosen Lady Neville to take Edlyn’s place. Lady Neville might not be able to start a fire, but she knew many herbs and quickly grasped the uses for the rest. At last, Edlyn straightened and rubbed her aching back.
Lady Neville surveyed her with a twinkle in her eye. “My barbette looks good on you.”
Edlyn touched the yellow linen band that passed under her chin and was pinned at the top of her head. “This is yours?”
“It was, but when that man came offering gold for clothes for you, I gladly gave it up. Better it should entice your husband than rot in my trunk.”
Edlyn couldn’t repress the chill of anticipation the thought of Hugh’s lovemaking brought her. “Do you think it will entice him? I had not thought the head covering would do so.”
“For a man like your husband, a head covering is a challenge. He’ll muster all his weapons, defeat your headdress, and win his way to your uncovered tresses in a flurry of triumph.” Lady Neville lined the herb boxes straight against the wall to avoid Edlyn’s gaze. “I know these things. My husband was a pigheaded fool of a knight, just like yours.”
“Do you miss him?” Edlyn asked.
“Every night,” Lady Neville answered.
Edlyn pulled the cork from a clay bottle and sniffed the contents. “I don’t miss Robin.”
“That’s not surprising,” Lady Neville said flatly.
Edlyn swung around and stared.
“Well, really, my dear, did you think his exploits were known only to you? The man couldn’t walk past the knothole in a tree without fornicating with it. He had bastards from one end of England to another and stupid girls lining up for their chance in his bed.” With a sly smile, Lady Neville said, “I met him once.”
“Did you?” And had she bedded him, too?
“I didn’t climb in his bed, but if it weren’t for my Neville, I would have. And I knew better! I knew his reputation, and I despised all the women who twittered about him. His charm, his masculinity, his handsome features. Pah!” Lady Neville sneered. “A grown woman like me should know better. But when I met him…”
“I know.” Lady Neville’s recollections had started an ache in Edlyn’s gut. “Who better? When he came along, I was a new-made widow, a virgin, far from anyone who loved me, but so cautious. I’d been knocked about almost all my life, and I didn’t trust anyone.” She shook her head at the memory. “I tumbled into his bed the first night.”
Lady Neville looked around for a chair, and when she couldn’t find one, she hoisted herself up on the table. “At least he wed you.”
“I had dower lands.”
“Nonsense!” The dignified lady’s feet dangled, and she swung them. “There were heiresses all over this land waiting to lay their hearts—and their wealth—at his feet.”
Edlyn eyed the distance from the floor to the table-top. Lady Neville was taller, but she was also older. Surely Edlyn could pull herself up, too. Placing her hands flat on the table, she jumped—and missed.
“You’re soft,” Lady Neville observed. “That’s what you get when you don’t handle the patients, I suppose.”
Exasperated, Edlyn wiped her palms on her skirt. “Then you’ll be soft soon.”
“God grant.” Lady Neville put her hand on Edlyn’s elbow. “Come on, I’ll help you.”
This time she made it. The tall table gave her a different view of the dispensary she thought she knew so well. Was there more than one view of her marriage, too? “’Tis true, Robin could have married any number of women,” Edlyn acknowledged. “After the birth of our son, he scarcely bothered me for more than money, but at the beginning I think he loved me.”
“I think he always loved you, as much as his immaturity allowed him to love anyone.”
“He had so many gifts.”
“And he wasted them.”
“Aye. Always chasing after something better when the best waited at home. By the time the prince’s men came to throw us out of the castle, I was done with waiting. My love for him was a flame, and it went out for lack of tending.”
Edlyn thought she’d said it well, but Lady Neville shrieked in
consternation and jumped off the table so fast, Edlyn thought she’d offended her.
“The fire.” Lady Neville laid her hand on the oven. “I forgot about the fire!”
“It should be fine.” Edlyn assured her.
“It’s warm,” Lady Neville said hopefully. Kneeling, she stared in the door. “It’s glowing.”
“Put some twigs on it and blow gently. You’ll see; they’ll burst into flame.”
Lady Neville cocked her head and peered at Edlyn. “So put some twigs on the fire of your feelings for Lord Hugh and see if they don’t burst into flame.”
Edlyn made a face. She’d started this silliness; now Lady Neville turned it on her.
Lady Neville laughed at Edlyn’s sour expression. “Don’t forget to blow gently,” she teased. “’Tis blowing which fans the flames.”
“You’re wicked.” Hearing a commotion outside, Edlyn jumped from the table. “No wonder Lady Corliss wants you to work by yourself.” But she couldn’t resist a grin as she opened the door.
Two lads in miniature monks’ habits bowled her over. “Mama,” they caroled, “we’re home!”
11
Hugh wanted to rush forward and rescue her, but Edlyn lay underneath two squirming lads with every evidence of delight. She hugged them, ruffled their hair, kissed them, wiped her kisses away when they groaned, and generally acted as delighted to see he sons as he hoped she would someday be delighted to see him.
Then Parkin started asking questions. “Are we really going to a castle to take possession of it? Are we going with Hugh and his fighting men?”
“Aye,” she said. “That’s because—”
He didn’t wait for explanation but launched into a new series of questions. “Are we going into battle? Will I get to fight? Will Allyn get to fight? Can we use a sword?”
Rolling him over, Edlyn muffled Parkin with her hand. “We’ll talk about this later,” she answered with a frown.
Hugh moved so his shadow fell on her, and she looked up, startled. He extended his hand, and she started at it without accepting his help.
What was the matter with the silly woman now? He’d brought her sons back, just as she wished. Leaning all the way over, he grasped her wrist and pulled her to her feet. He smiled warmly into her face.
She didn’t smile back.
Not many women could look dangerous, but Edlyn did right now. He hadn’t noticed before, but in the slanting light of the westering sun, her face stuck out with all sorts of weird angles, jutting and unrelated. Her chin was wide, and she had a habit of pushing it forward as if she were challenging his superiority. Her cheekbones rose at such an angle they pushed the outside corners of her eyes up and gave her an odd, witchy glare—a glare she now bent on him as if he were one of her sons she could reprimand.
Then Parkin bounded to his feet and put the finishing touches on her irritation. “Are we really going to train for the knighthood?”
“Nay,” she snapped, and Hugh remembered guiltily her determination that her sons should be men of peace.
“But Mama, Hugh said so,” Parkin whined.
She turned that glare on Parkin and said, “Hugh’s not in charge of you. I am.”
Allyn rose off the ground and nudged her arm with his head until she hugged him to her. Even at eight, the top of his head already reached her shoulder. In his quiet voice, he asked, “Is it true you wed Hugh while we were away?”
Stricken, Edlyn could only stare at her lad.
Hugh answered for her. “Aye, she really did, but she didn’t want to.”
Allyn fixed his thoughtful gaze on Hugh. “Why not?”
“I wanted to wait for you.” Edlyn shot Hugh a warning scowl, one he didn’t understand, and followed it with a warm smile at Allyn. “But we couldn’t wait any longer, so we wed yesterday.”
Jealous of his brother, Parkin snuggled against his mother’s other side. He wasn’t quite as tall as his brother, but Hugh had seen twins like this before. They didn’t quite look alike, and their personalities showed little resemblance, but they shared the same father, of that there could be no doubt.
“Why couldn’t you wait longer?” Parkin asked.
“Sometimes people have to do things they don’t want to,” Hugh explained. “You’ll find that out when you’re grown.”
“Oh.” For the first time since Hugh had met Parkin, the lad calmed, and it seemed he donned the weight of added years. “I know about doing things you don’t want to.”
Like being thrown out of your father’s castle, Hugh could almost hear the boy add.
Edlyn walked toward the bustle in the square, taking the boys with her. As she stepped away from the protection of the dispensary’s fence, she spotted a distraction. “Look, lads, there’s Sir Gregory who took you on your pilgrimage. Let’s go and thank him.”
Her sons groaned, and Hugh thought Sir Gregory must be groaning also. When Hugh found him trudging along the road with two lads in tow, he had been pathetically grateful for the offer of a ride to the abbey.
But the monk valiantly smiled when Edlyn hugged him and said, “I hope they weren’t too much trouble.”
“Not at all, Lady Edlyn.” Sir Gregory twitched as he lied. “They were exemplary lads and an honor to your name.”
“Do you think they’re ready to start the novitiate?”
Parkin said, “Ma-oh-ma!”
She pulled a lock of his hair. “Are they?”
“Mayhap in a few more years.” Sir Gregory faded back toward the monastery. “Not just yet, but soon.”
Edlyn looked frustrated, the boys looked relieved, and Hugh had to pinch himself to stop from laughing. Unfortunately, Edlyn knew his mirth without seeing it, and she started toward the camp at full speed.
Hugh had no trouble keeping up. “Aren’t you going to thank me?”
“For the clothes? Thank you.” She kept walking. The boys bobbed along beside.
“For fetching your sons,” Hugh said.
She glanced at him, then slowed reluctantly. “You fetched them?”
“Where do you think I’ve been all day?”
“I didn’t know. Your close-mouthed servant wouldn’t tell me.”
“He found us at the crossroads.” Parkin contributed his part cheerfully. “It would have taken two more days to get here because Sir Gregory walked so slow.”
“Maybe he was tired,” Edlyn suggested.
“Why?”
The boys couldn’t comprehend the stamina it took to keep up with them, and Hugh shared a grin with Edlyn. Then she wiped the smile from her face as if such mutual amusement had somehow betrayed her.
Hugh walked close to her and bumped her gently with his arm. “It’s hard to stay angry at me, isn’t it?”
“Your charm is much overrated.” The heat had gone from Edlyn’s voice. “But my sons are not training to be knights.”
“We’ll see.” Hugh knew how to use irritating phrases just as well as she. “For now they’re going with us.”
“I wouldn’t ever leave them behind!”
Hugh found himself confused. “I never suggested so. I simply thought you wished them to be fostered by the monks, and for that they would have to stay here.”
“Not yet,” she answered decisively. “They’re not old enough to leave me yet.”
“They’re past the age when most lads leave their mothers,” Hugh said with what he thought was irrefutable logic.
“Most lads…” She stopped and stared at the whirlwind of activity around the tents. A “What’s happening?”
“We’re breaking camp.”
“But why?”
Because I want to get you away from this place and off to myself. “I’ve lingered here too long,” he said.
“This doesn’t make sense.” She tried to sound reasonable and succeeded in sounding exasperated. “It’s evening! How far can we get tonight before we must set up camp again?”
Now he grinned. “I travel quickly.”
“Not when
you’re burdened with two children, you don’t!”
“Ah, Mama.” Parkin shook with humiliation. “We’re not children. We can keep up.”
Allyn’s embarrassment, though quieter, struck just as deep. “No one will have to delay for us, Mama.”
Hugh turned a smug face on Edlyn. “If someone can’t keep up, I suppose it will be you.”
He had to give her credit; she didn’t suggest that her sons might be overestimating their endurance. But she did glare at him. Then she glanced up and saw Wharton supervising the breakdown of Hugh’s tent, and she picked up her skirts and ran. “Wait! Where are the contents of the tent?”
Wharton jerked a thumb toward the packhorses and carts. “There.”
“I left two blankets on the table.”
“Ye mean those two rags?” Wharton’s scorn could have curdled milk. “I flung them in th’ scrap bag.”
“Those were the two things I kept out of my possessions!”
“Ragbag’s in that cart.” Going back to his duties, Wharton said loudly enough for all to hear, “Women!”
Curiosity held Hugh in place as Edlyn climbed in the cart and began to excavate the contents. What bits of cloth had she bargained for so determinedly? What memories did they hold? Edlyn jumped down from the cart, waving faded bits of cloth, one in each hand, and her sons leaped toward her with a shout. Each grabbed the tattered remains of a blanket and furtively touched it to his cheek. Then Parkin shoved his beneath is surcoat while Allyn rubbed his with his hand. Edlyn watched with the kind of smile mothers get when they’ve sacrificed much and found the reward ample.
“What are they?” Hugh asked her.
“Blankets made for them before their birth. They were swaddled in them, carried in them. They’ve slept with them every night of their lives, except during this pilgrimage, and they’re the only things I managed to secure from jagger Castle when we were thrown out.”
Hugh had heard of things like this, but his warrior mind could scarcely comprehend. “You saved their blankies?”
A Knight to Remember: Good Knights #2 Page 15
