The Unlovely Bride (Brides of Karadok Book 2)

by Alice Coldbreath

  She had Berta, she reminded herself. And a new kinsman in Gerard Sutton. True, she still had to win him over, but what if she enlisted his help, she thought, remembering Garman’s saying she could do worse than to learn household management from his grandfather. After all, had it not been her hastily formed resolve to learn how to run her own home? She remembered Garman’s plan to buy a pretty estate nearby and wished it had not involved the throwing out of its current inhabitant. Why was nothing straight-forward these days? She closed her eyes. And now she would probably lay awake for hours and hours, she thought, and promptly fell fast asleep.

  The next morning, she woke to find herself alone in the bed and a maid pouring water for her into a basin. Blinking at the sunlight streaming through the window, she wondered if Garman had stayed at Cofton Grange for the night or returned home to a different room. Unbidden images of the Hainfroys comely servant Martha crept into her memory. After all, the girl had watched him avidly on the occasion of their former visit. Recognizing him as a virile male, she seemed to remember had been Garman’s opinion. Ignoring the flash of irritation this caused her, she climbed resolutely from the bed.

  “Did my husband return last night?” she asked in what she hoped was a light, airy fashion, petting first Grizelda and then Frendrel’s sleepy heads.

  “Nay, milady,” the servant replied with a look of severe disapproval on her face. Sensing there was more to come, Lenora gave her a look of bright enquiry. “Those Hainfroy brothers be awful wild, milady. When they gets together with the young master, one night’s carousing can quickly turn into seven.”

  “A whole week?” Lenora exclaimed.

  The maid nodded. “Mind, they was a few years younger then,” she conceded grudgingly. “But Master Garman, he were never good at keeping Master Sutton informed of his whereabouts and that’s the sad truth of it. Powerful worried Master Sutton’s been over the years on his account.” She shook her head and gave a gusty sigh.

  “Your name is Ada, isn’t it?” Lenora asked, lifting a soft red wool dress out of the trunk.

  “That’s right, milady.” A flicker of gratification flashed over the woman’s face that her name had been remembered.

  Lenora gave her an encouraging smile. “Do you think Master Sutton would be willing to give me a tour of the place today and show me the lay of the land?”

  Ada gave her a surprised look. “Sure to, miss. He’s a very kind and obliging master he is and would deny his family nothing.” She pressed her lips together grimly again and Lenora guessed she was thinking hard thoughts about Garman’s attitude toward the older man.

  She was tempted for a moment to press for more information, but decided she had better go slowly. Old servants could be tricky to handle without giving offence and she didn’t want to cause them to close ranks against a newcomer who trod clumsily and set their backs up. Thinking that Eden would be proud of her strategic thinking, she thanked Ada for the hot water and made haste to wash and dress. Ada stuck around to help her fasten her laces, but as soon as she was clothed, Lenora dismissed her to her other duties and dressed her hair herself.

  Her own appearance in the looking glass startled her. She was flushed and bright-eyed and even her wild hair didn’t detract from the fact she looked surprisingly well. Maybe she was feverish, and that was what had given her such a good color? She turned this way and that before the large oval mirror. Had she regained some of her lost figure? She was definitely filling out her robe better than she had before.

  Reaching for a hair-comb, she started trying to bring her disordered locks under control. Peering under the plaster, she found the bump on her head so vastly reduced that it barely even seemed a lump anymore. Gingerly, she pulled the plaster away and dabbed at the area with a damp cloth to remove the last of the paste. She would go without the dressing for today. Perhaps now she looked less scrawny and didn’t have a large poultice stuck to her head then her husband would deign to sleep in the same bed as her?

  Gerard Sutton had already broken his fast when she made her way down to the parlor, but another servant hurried through and fetched her toasted bread and a bowl of spiced wine which she plunked down before Lenora and then hurried off with a distracted curtsey. Clearly the servants had many duties to fulfill around the farm and would not stand around waiting on her as they did at court.

  On finishing her meal, she made her way thoughtfully to the kitchens where she found Grizelda and Fendrel already partaking of a fish dish and purring around Berta’s ankles. “Good morning,” she greeted her servant. “How are you, Berta?”

  Her maid grunted, eyeing Lenora’s forehead. “Took off your poultice, I see,” she said sourly.

  “Yes, it’s a good deal better today and I found the paste smeared all through my hair and made things vastly uncomfortable. Although,” she added hastily. “’Twas vastly efficacious and I am sure quite reduced the swelling. Thank you.”

  “Humph.”

  “How are you finding Matchings Farm?” Lenora asked, lowering her voice confidentially. She glanced down the length of the kitchen and found only Hawise at the far end, busily employed hanging fresh herbs up to dry.

  Berta shrugged irritably. “It’s a roof over my head. No good asking for more in this life. Not in my experience.”

  Lenora’s brows rose. Garman had been right. Something was bothering Berta. “Your quarters are comfortable?” she asked softly.

  “Aye.”

  “The tasks assigned you not too arduous?”

  “Hah! I’ve done a lot worse in my time.” Still her tone was bitter. The kitchen door opened and shut, and Lenora and Berta turned to look as a tall youth stepped inside and took the strands of rosemary from Hawise that she was stretching to hang on the hook.

  “Let me, Granny,” he said cheerfully and then stooped to kiss Hawise’s craggy cheek.

  Lenora was surprised to see a look a starkly bitter expression creep over Berta’s face. “So Hawise has family here,” Lenora murmured.

  Berta’s expression went blank. She slammed a bowl down on the table. “If that’s all, miss, I’ve got work to do,” she said rudely.

  Lenora’s startled gaze flew to Berta’s resentful expression and then back to Hawise who was beaming up at her grandson. “Can you direct me toward Master Sutton’s whereabouts?” she asked carefully. “I would have a word with him this morn.”

  “Johnny?” Berta shouted, making Lenora jump. “Where’s the master?”

  The amiable youth grinned. “He be up the long pasture, Miss Berta,” he said in a soft countrified drawl.

  “Would you escort me there?” Lenora asked and saw a panicked look steal over the young man’s face.

  “Now Johnny,” Hawise scolded fondly. “Don’t ‘ee stand there lookin’ foolish when the mistress asks ye a request. Look lively, do.”

  “O’ course miss,” he stammered, dragging off his hood and shifting from one foot to the other. “Wasn’t my intention to be disobligin’.” He stole a look at Lenora from under his blonde lashes and blushed.

  “That’s very good of you, Johnny,” Lenora responded and ran to fetch her cloak, for it looked cold and crisp outside though the sky was very blue.

  Soon they were walking briskly in the direction of the Long Meadow. Lenora decided to drag some conversation from the tongue-tied young man. “So Hawise is your grandmother. Did she find you the position here at Matchings Farm?”

  “My granny, father, and uncle before me, they all work for Master Sutton,” Johnny told her bashfully.

  “He’s been here a good while then. Did you work for Master Garman’s father before that?”

  “Nay, missus,” Johnny said, shaking his head. “Master Garman’s father barely saw out the building of the place before he was taken by the plague.”

  “I see,” Lenora echoed slowly. “And Garman’s mother, was she also a plague victim?”

  “That she were,” Johnny concurred. “A sad day for the Master when his only child was taken.”
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br />   Lenora looked up quickly. “At least she left him her son to raise, so he was not left without kith or kin.”

  “Aye,” he conceded, scratching the back of his head. “But—” Johnny hesitated. “Tweren’t the same, miss, begging your pardon. On account of Master Garman’s status. ‘Tis true he’s his blood and all, but still… ‘tain’t the same.”

  “His status?” Lenora puzzled. “I don’t think I quite—?”

  “Lenora!” Gerard Sutton’s voice rang out close by in slightly alarmed tones. “Is all well, my dear?” His small, neat figure hurried over to her, rolling up the piece of parchment he had been holding. “Should you be out here in the light of your recent injuries?”

  Lenora waved this aside. “I am quite healed up, as you see, Grandfather,” she said doggedly determined to pursue their acquaintance, in spite of his seeming reluctance. She fancied he started slightly at the familiarity but ignored his reaction. After all, had not Garman himself said she should address him thus? “I am come to see you, on my husband’s advice.”

  Again, Gerard Sutton looked discomforted. “Indeed?” he wavered. “He is back then? I had not expected to see him before midday at the earliest.”

  Lenora plastered a brave smile to her face. “No, he is not back,” she admitted. “But we discussed this matter days ago, whilst we were at Kellingford, in fact.”

  “I see,” he answered, though plainly from his expression he did not.

  “I have a great hankering to learn household management, you see.” Lenora plunged on determinedly. “He suggested that you would be an excellent mentor.”

  “Garman suggested this?”

  “He did.” She hesitated. “I believe my husband mentioned at one time used to be a steward, so I thought—”

  Gerard Sutton’s head whipped around to face her. “He told you that?”

  “Well—yes,” Lenora stared at his shocked tone. “Have I said something amiss?”

  “What did he tell you?” he asked eagerly. “Tell me exactly.”

  “Why, that if I wished to learn household management, you would make me a good teacher. As I said, he had told me previously you had been a steward, so it seemed quite a natural recommendation for him to make.”

  He huffed out a breath. “And nothing else?” He sounded disappointed. “Would you walk this way with me a little?” He gestured politely.

  Lenora fell in step beside him, cudgeling her brains. “He explained about his parents,” she said slowly. Again, Gerard Sutton seemed to hold his breath. “That they eloped without their parents’ consent. That seemed to explain your own attitude toward our marriage,” she wound up frankly.

  Some color stole back into the older man’s cheeks at this. He went to speak but seemed to check himself. “I apologize if you find me unwelcoming, Lenora,” he said stiffly.

  “I don’t,” she contradicted him. “Not unwelcoming precisely.”

  He clicked his tongue at this. “No doubt I seem sadly stand-offish to you.”

  She considered this. “Not that, but I do not think a state of perfect accord exists between you and Garman. So, as his wife, I can hardly expect to be welcomed by you with opened arms.”

  He turned a little pale. “This is very difficult,” he muttered almost to himself. “Very difficult indeed. If only one knew how to proceed for the best.”

  He was so different in every respect from Garman that it was small wonder they were not close. “Was it difficult, even when he was two years old?” she asked.

  “Yes, even then.” His mouth twisted, and he rubbed his brow distractedly, swinging around to regard her searchingly. “I’m afraid I cannot elaborate, but if you are truly in earnest about learning household management—”

  “I am,” Lenora cut in coolly.

  “Then I will most happily take up your instruction.”

  “Immediately?” she enquired.

  He blinked a little at this. “If that is your wish.”

  “It is.” She inclined her head. “For I have nothing else to occupy myself with at present.”

  “Very well then, my dear. We will begin at once.”

  Lenora spent an informative afternoon with Grandfather Sutton. First, he showed her the outhouses, the two barns and the stables, introducing her to his core staff of five men. During the harvest, he explained they would be obliged to hire more hands, but for the most part, these sufficed.

  Then the pair of them rode out to take in the five-acre spread of ripening wheat and rye for the autumn harvest along with vegetable patches of onions, peas, and beans. Returning that evening tired but keen to share her exploits, Lenora was disappointed to find her husband had still not returned from Cofton Grange. Swiftly masking her chagrin, she washed and changed and joined his grandfather for a filling supper of minced mutton in a piecrust served with spiced roasted parsnips. Over the final course of lightly fried crackers and cheese, Lenora found she could not disguise her yawns.

  “Doubtless it’s all that fresh air,” Gerard Sutton commented with a smile.

  “Very likely,” Lenora agreed. “I had not expected to spend so much time out of doors today, but I found it most instructive.”

  “It’s best to start with a thorough grounding of the household resources,” he replied, dabbing the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “I’m pleased you found it interesting.” He hesitated. “You were very pleasant company today, my dear,” he added, both surprising and gratifying her.

  After supper, Lenora made for her bedchamber and ordered a bath which she lingered over. Suppose Garman should come home while she was bathing? The memory of that first night in the inn sprang to mind, when he had climbed in her bath with her. Lenora bit her lip, a blush rising up her neck. She did not think she would mind if he wanted to share it with her now, she thought, slightly surprised by the direction of her own thoughts.

  It seemed she was ready to move forward with their marriage, but sadly, Garman was now dragging his feet. He did not return before she turned to gooseflesh and was forced to climb out of her bath. Nor had he returned when she blew out her candle and drew up the covers. Even the cats shunned her bed, curling up together in front of the fire.

  When next Lenora woke, it was to hear someone moving around clumsily in the dark. A smothered oath let her know it was Garman. He had clearly forgotten the proportions of the room, she thought, listening to him fling off his clothes and then stumble and stub his toe. He swore again, then groped his way toward the bed. Why had he not lit a candle? she wondered and felt glad he had not trod on Fendrel’s tail.

  When the mattress dipped, she realized he was climbing into her side of the bed. She had just roused herself to slide away to make room for him, when his arm slid around her and drew her back roughly against his big, hard body. He let out a half-sigh, half-groan the moment they made contact and pressed a sloppy kiss into the side of her neck before settling his head on the pillow beside her own.

  Smelling strong spirits on his breath, she wondered if he was sotted. “Have you been drinking solidly for the past two days?”

  “Aye,” he agreed drowsily. “Why? Are you about to act the scolding wife?”

  “I’m not sure,” Lenora mused. “Why did you not stay away another night?”

  “Didn’t want to,” he growled.

  Lenora’s ears pricked up at this. “You didn’t? I expect your friends were eager for you to stay on,” she speculated.

  “Why should I, if I don’t want to?” His tone was aggrieved. “You’re as bad as Huw. Going on at me.”

  Lenora mulled this over. “I was only thinking of you riding home in the dark. You’re lucky you didn’t end up in a ditch.”

  He snorted. “Know that road like the back of my hand.”

  “Well, I expect you know this room, but you’ve nearly tripped a half dozen times.”

  He made no reply to this, and she thought he had fallen into a doze, when he suddenly asked in a gravelly voice, “How’s your head?”

  “M
y head is quite healed, thank you. Yours, however, will be sadly aching on the morrow.”

  “Nay wife, for I’ll dunk my head in a basin of cold water and be right as rain.”

  He had addressed her as ‘wife’ at least a half dozen times now, she told herself sternly. There was no reason for it to make her feel so fluttery and out of breath. “Why not simply have a bath? I had a bath this evening,” she carried on recklessly. “I had hoped you might return for it.”

  She felt him lift his head off the pillow. “Why?” he asked blearily.

  “I think I’ve gained some flesh and wanted you to corroborate,” she answered lightly.

  He was silent a moment, “Remind me to check in the morning,” he said thickly and shifted against her back. “Tease.”

  Lenora held her breath as his hand slid between her thighs to cup her there in a shockingly proprietary fashion. Her pulse raced in some unexpected places. Then very softly, he began to snore.

  Oh.

  29

  Garman woke suddenly to find himself alone in his bed. At least, he had thought he was alone until he felt a furry creature tucked into his armpit. A smothered exclamation later, he realized it was the little gray cat Fendrel and relaxed back onto the pillow with a groan. His mouth was dry and something was niggling at his memory.

  A quick glance about the room showed Lenora was nowhere to be found. Squinting at the window, he guessed it was around midday. Fendrel began to vibrate, emitting a low buzzing sound which Garman was dimly aware indicated feline satisfaction. At least someone was satisfied, he thought darkly. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out with this considerate husband shit.