“He had nothing to do with Eua’s dismissal,” Mavis interrupted. “Since I am chatelaine of Dunborough, it’s my right to dismiss servants as I see fit, and I saw fit to send Eua from the household.”
“Because she wouldn’t bow and scrape? Because she knows that I should be the lord and not your husband?”
“Because she was insolent and disrespectful, and likely to stay that way. I cannot and will not have such a servant in my household. As for her claims of superior knowledge, even you must wonder why your father would tell a servant what he’d tell no one else except the attorney who made his will—not even you.”
“He kept everything to himself, all the time. Ask Roland.”
“Eua tells you what you want to hear, Gerrard,” Roland replied, “and she’s still no more than a servant. Why should the law believe her and not my father’s own will?”
His face even more red, his gaze more hostile, Gerrard glared at Mavis once again. “Whatever the law says, what of me, your insolent and disrespectful brother-in-law who will never bow down before your husband? Will you make Roland send me away? For I assure you, my lady, he’ll never get respect and deference from me until he deserves it and that will never be!”
“You would treat him thus even though it undermines his position as lord of Dunborough and therefore yours, as well?” Mavis countered. “What must the tenants think if their lord’s brother behaves like a spoiled child? And the merchants with whom he trades? What must they think of you? Or are you truly so selfish, so blind, so shortsighted, that you don’t see what harm it does to both of you?”
Gerrard took hold of her arm. “Beware how you speak to me, my lady, lest you—”
Roland grabbed his shoulder and yanked him away. “Take your hands off my wife,” he growled as the two men faced each other like enraged lions, ready to pounce.
“Oh, dear me, am I interrupting something?”
Mavis started and turned to see a woman in the doorway. She wore a very fine cloak of light brown wool trimmed with fox fur. The hem of a brilliant scarlet gown was visible at the bottom, and her hands were encased in pale kidskin gloves. She pushed back the hood to reveal dark hair, delicately arched black brows, red lips and a pale and beautiful face.
Whoever she was, this was no time to have visitors, not when she feared Roland and Gerrard were about to come to blows.
“Audrey!” Gerrard cried, his anger apparently gone in an instant as he smiled at her.
So this was Audrey D’Orleau, the woman gossip said Roland would marry. She was indeed beautiful and certainly smiled at him as if she would gladly have accepted, although she smiled at Gerrard, too.
Again Mavis felt the small sting of jealousy, and tried to ignore it.
As for Audrey, she didn’t seem to notice Mavis, although Mavis had caught the swift perusal, the quick assessment. But she was used to that, from women who were trying to determine who was the prettiest. Nevertheless, she had to subdue the urge to smooth down her hair and gown, and to pinch her cheeks to ensure they were lightly, becomingly pink.
“The guards said you were both here, but I never... I didn’t...” Audrey covered her rosy lips with her gloved fingertips. “Perhaps it would be best if I returned tomorrow.”
Mavis could tell when a woman was acting flustered, as opposed to being so, and this woman was merely acting.
Gerrard spoke first. “My brother and I were having a discussion.”
Roland took Mavis’s hand to lead her forward as if they were in the king’s hall, and her confidence returned. “My lady, may I present Audrey D’Orleau.”
“Audrey’s a very good friend,” Gerrard slyly noted.
Roland ignored him. “Audrey, this is my wife, Mavis.”
The woman’s smile was lovely and she had perfect teeth, too. “I am delighted to meet Roland’s wife. Welcome to Dunborough, my lady.” She looked at them all with every appearance of concerned confusion. “Now perhaps I had best be on my way.”
“Please, you must have some refreshments,” Mavis said. She may not be attired as befit the wife of a lord, but she could still behave like one.
Audrey looked from her to Roland, then Gerrard. “No, I think not. I wouldn’t want to disrupt your...discussion.”
“The discussion is over,” Roland replied.
“So of course you must stay,” Gerrard added.
“Well, then, I shall,” Audrey said with a pleased smile.
Mavis wasn’t overjoyed by the invitation, but it was her duty to be courteous and welcoming.
“If you will excuse me, my lord,” she said, smiling at Roland, “I should go ahead to tell the servants to bring wine and ensure that the fires are kindled.”
Then she raised herself up on her toes and kissed her husband. Whether she intended to show Audrey that she was Roland’s choice and both were glad of it, or to prove to Gerrard that he couldn’t upset her, or both, she couldn’t have said, but the kiss was no peck on the lips.
Regardless of the audience, Roland responded as if they were alone, too, holding her close and moving his lips over hers with slow and sinuous purpose.
Unfortunately, they were not alone, so she reluctantly broke the kiss and gathered up her skirts. “I shall await you in the hall, my lord,” she said, more than a little breathless as she hurried past Gerrard and the red-faced Audrey.
“Forgive me, Audrey, but I’ve just remembered I’ve promised to meet my friends in the village,” Gerrard said, his expression full of disdain as he addressed Audrey and his brother. “Enjoy your afternoon with Roland and his bride,” he added as he strode from the stable, leaving Audrey and Roland alone.
Before he had married Mavis, this was a situation Roland would have gone miles to avoid. Now, however, and especially after that kiss, Audrey had to be aware that any hopes she might have harbored—and without any encouragement from him—were completely dashed. He could simply treat her as he would any other guest.
He held out his arm. “Shall we?”
She took his arm and as they left the stable and started across the yard toward the hall, moved a bit too close. “I see Gerrard doesn’t approve of your marriage.”
“It is not his place to approve or not.”
“No, of course not, and now that I’ve seen your bride, I understand why you married her. Such a pretty little thing!”
Roland was not pleased with Audrey’s implication that he had taken a mere girl for a bride. “She is far from a child.”
If Audrey realized he was displeased, she gave no sign, but continued to smile. “What does she think of Dunborough? Is she not impressed?”
“I believe so, yes.”
“I do hope Gerrard hasn’t been too rude to her. The poor boy was surely upset when he heard about the marriage, and with no warning, too. One day you are here, the next you’re gone, and then you return with a bride even though you sent no word to say that you’d been wed. Or if you did, the messenger did not arrive.”
Roland’s jaw tightened and he refrained from pointing out that Gerrard was no boy. “I sent no message because none was necessary. Marrying Mavis was my decision to make, and Gerrard will come to accept what must be.”
“I trust you’re right. It will be so difficult for you and your sweet bride if he doesn’t,” Audrey replied with a sigh that implied otherwise, reminding him of another reason he would never have married her. She was subtler than his family, but no less demoralizing. Without openly criticizing him, she always made him feel that anything he said or did was not quite right.
When they reached the hall, Roland opened the door and stood aside to let her enter.
A roaring fire blazed in the hearth, the table was spread with linen he recognized from a feast held long ago and Mavis was standing by the chairs on the dais, waiting.
Pride and h
appiness soared through him. To think he had such a wife—beautiful and poised, clever and kind, passionate and loving. He, who had been told all his life that he was too serious, too cold, too hard-hearted, to have a woman love him. Who had given up hope that any woman of merit would ever want him.
“I had heard there was a most unfortunate accident on your journey here, my lady,” Audrey said as she took the offered chair on the dais, “and all your dower goods were destroyed. I had hoped that was just a rumor, but...” She ran another swiftly measuring gaze over Mavis. “I see it must be true. How terrible!”
Roland was suddenly sorry that Audrey was still there.
However, he never should have doubted that Mavis could hold her own, whether with Gerrard or anyone else. She gave Audrey the most blatantly bogus smile he’d ever seen and her eyes said she was quite aware that she’d been insulted. “It was unfortunate and of course I regret the loss of my clothes and linens. Still, it could have been much worse, if my lord and his men hadn’t helped to put out the fire. You should have seen him! He took command like a general and looked like a god.”
Roland had never understood the notion of a man’s chest swelling with pride, until now. “And Mavis will have new clothes as soon as possible,” he said, smiling at his wife.
Audrey shifted in her chair. “I’m sure it was all very exciting.” She gave Mavis another false smile. “I shall have to send you my dressmaker. She is a marvel, from France, and most reasonable.”
“I’ll look forward to it. I shall need some shifts, too, although Roland prefers me without them.”
Roland choked back a burst of laughter. He could hardly believe his wife had said something so outrageously wanton—even if it was true—while Audrey blushed as red as her gown.
He had never, in all the years he’d known her, seen Audrey blush.
However, she recovered quickly and cleared her throat. “Yes, well, I believe Dominique will be happy to oblige. Anything I can do to help.” She gave Mavis the most insincerely sympathetic look he had ever seen. “I understand your poor father isn’t well. I do hope he’ll recover.”
“I hope so, too,” Mavis calmly replied as she smoothed her skirt over her knees. “I’m sure you’ve heard other things about my family, too. Perhaps you’d like to ask me about them, so I can dispel whatever false stories are going about.”
“I did hear that he gave a prize that proved to be made not of true gold, but only painted metal.”
“Yes, that is so, and I am not proud to admit it,” Mavis replied without a hint of shame. “He has grown somewhat miserly over the years.”
“Except for his daughter’s dowry,” Roland interjected. “He was most generous there.”
Audrey didn’t seem to take any notice. “I heard something even more shocking about your cousin, so shocking I’m sure it can’t possibly be true.”
“I suppose you mean that she was abducted and married the man who took her. It’s quite true and she’s quite happy, as am I, for her sake. They were already in love before he rescued her.”
“Rescued?”
“Rescued,” Mavis said firmly, “from a marriage she did not want.”
Audrey slid Roland a questioning glance, but he wasn’t about to suggest Tamsin was wrong to flee a marriage to his father.
Instead, she asked, in the same way she might have asked if Rheged was poxed, “Is it true her husband’s also a Welshman?”
“Yes, and proudly so.”
“Well! I shall be surprised by nothing I hear in the village after this—nothing!”
Lizabet appeared at the entrance to the kitchen carrying a tray bearing wine and hurried over to them. “I’m sorry, my lady,” she said to Mavis, “but the cook has a question about the evening meal. And Peg wants to know about the linen, and there’s a fishmonger at the gate asking if you want eels.”
Mavis gracefully got to her feet and bestowed a smile on her husband and Audrey. “If you will excuse me, I had best attend to these household matters.”
“Of course,” Audrey said, likewise giving Mavis another blatantly false smile. “And I suppose I should be on my way.”
She waited as if expecting someone to invite her to stay. Roland certainly wasn’t going to, and he wasn’t surprised by Mavis’s silence. She had offered Audrey food and drink. More was not required.
As Mavis nodded her goodbye and started toward the kitchen with a graceful gait and swaying hips, Audrey rose abruptly. “Farewell, Roland,” she snapped before she walked briskly out of the hall without waiting for his response.
Roland sat back in his chair and sighed. He had never liked Audrey, but now he could only feel pity for her.
As for Mavis—he wanted to go to her at once and tell her how proud he was to be her husband.
But that could wait until they were alone.
* * *
Walter, James and Frederick said nothing as they sat in the brothel and watched Gerrard. They had seen him in a black mood before and knew it was better to keep silent and let him talk.
At this time of day, the only other customers were two soldiers seated across the room, their heads together, drinking ale and sizing up the women who were likewise warily steering clear of Gerrard.
“How dare she?” Gerrard muttered into the goblet of wine that was not his first. “Who does she think she is? She’s just some sot’s daughter. She’s no right to give orders. Or to criticize me. God’s blood! She calls me insolent, then all but insults Audrey to her face! I should have guessed there was something wrong with her, or why else would she have married Roland?”
He took another drink before glaring at his silent friends. “And yet Audrey wanted to marry him!”
“She said so?” James asked.
Walter shot him a look as Gerrard answered. “No, but I could tell.”
“She never let Gerrard touch her,” Frederick whispered to James as, after another look from Walter, they took their drinks and moved away.
Meanwhile, Walter shifted closer to Gerrard. “Audrey can’t marry Roland now,” he said quietly. “And she’s still rich as Croesus.”
Gerrard looked at him over the rim of his goblet. “She is, isn’t she?”
“A man could do a lot of things with her wealth,” Walter noted. He lowered his voice still more. “Even to bribing a king.”
“What’s that?”
Walter leaned closer and spoke in Gerrard’s ear. “You would have enough to bribe the king. Then you could be sure the king will rule in your favor. Everyone knows John can be bought, if a man can pay the price, and nobody disputes that you and Roland were born the same day and the same hour. If your father had said which of you was the eldest from the first, it would be different, but since he didn’t, it shouldn’t be too difficult for John to name you heir instead. All these wars in France cost money, after all. Of course, you’d have to marry Audrey first to get enough to make it worth John’s while to go against your brother.”
Gerrard grinned. “As if that would be a hardship for any man. You’ve seen her, haven’t you? And she likes me.”
While both men shared a companionable chuckle, neither they, nor James or Frederick, saw the two soldiers get up and leave.
* * *
“That’s it, then,” Arnhelm said with determination as he and Verdan marched back to Dunborough. “They’re planning something and we’ve got to tell our lady.”
“What?” Verdan asked. “They was just talking.”
“I tell you, he’s up to something, whispering like that.”
“Other than getting drunk and bedding whores, we ain’t seen nor heard—”
“Aye, we have,” Arnhelm declared. “We seen him sneakin’ about with those others.”
“That ain’t enough and what if we’re wrong?”
“It�
��s enough to warn our lady to be on her guard, and that’s what I mean to do before we go back to DeLac.”
“What are ya going to say? Beg pardon, m’lady, but we don’t trust your brother-in-law and we don’t trust your husband to keep you safe neither?”
That silenced Arnhelm for a moment. Then he said, “I’ll just tell her she oughta watch out for that Gerrard because he might be up to no good. And when we get home, I’ll go to Lady Tamsin and her husband and tell them the same thing.”
“What good’ll that do?”
“To let them know she might need their help. Now come on, it’s gettin’ dark and I want to wash. That brothel’s probably got fleas.”
* * *
Mavis enjoyed the evening meal that night. Gerrard wasn’t in the hall, nor was Eua or Dalfrid, who had gone to tend to some business in York. More important, Roland seemed lighthearted, at least for him. They talked about the wedding feast, and who Roland planned to invite. There were three knights and ladies with small estates nearby, several tenants who were doing well with their crops, the chandler, the butcher, the fletcher, who made all the arrows for the garrison, and two cloth merchants from the village.
“Bartholomew and Marmaduke,” Roland said, naming the merchants and giving her a little smile as he did so. “They are very successful and very persuasive. Their goods are not cheap, though, because they’re the best to be had outside of York.”
“I’ll try to restrain myself,” she said with every appearance of solemnity, “although it may be very difficult. I feel like I’ve been wearing this gown for years.”
Roland raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “You’re lovely in whatever you wear.”
“My father didn’t think so,” she remarked. “Even when he was most miserly, he would spend a great deal on my gowns. A proper setting, he would say, as if I were a jewel.”
“You are a jewel.”
“I’ll accept such a compliment from you, but I should warn you, my lord, that I am not a woman who wants to sit and be admired.”
His eyes sparkled when he replied, and it wasn’t just the torchlight. “So I’ve already discovered.”
Bride for a Knight (9781460344804) Page 13
