by Hall, Diana
Roen strode into the barn, past the boy and Beatrice. Hamlin followed right behind him.
“He’s here,” Tyrus finished his sentence in a whisper.
Roen surveyed the guilty looks of Beatrice and the boy. “Where is she? Don’t even think about lying for her. I want the truth,” his voice blasted in anger.
“Lying? You accuse them of a crime before they utter a breath.” Lenora rose from the hay in one languid motion and gave Silver a pat on the muzzle. Just to irritate the man even more, she sauntered over to the gate. She placed her arms on the top rail, leaned her chin on her hands and gave the furious knight a beguiling smile. “Why should they lie to you? Whom do you seek in such a fit of temper?”
“Nora, I am tired of your endless prattle. ‘Twill cease now.” His voice would have singed her eyebrows if it had been a flame.
The shouts issuing from the barn began to draw a crowd. Alric, Landrick and several others from Roen’s group gathered near the barn to hear the exchange. The men buffeted one another about to hear their leader chastise Lenora.
“That’s tellin’ her, Roen.” Alric urged his commander on. “Put the wench where she belongs.”
“In a bed and on her back,” another of Roen’s men added. The male laughter grated on Lenora’s ears.
She slipped through the wooden poles of the stall gate and noted Roen’s face, his clamped jaw and fixed eyes. He teetered on the edge of control. One little push and he would fall into her plan.
“My name is not Nora and my prattle, as you call it, will never cease.” Lenora made her voice as insolent as possible and arched her brow in a knowing way. “If ‘tis a silent woman you want, you’ll not find it in me. I am most vocal about your shortcomings, of which there are many. Though ‘tis no surprise. Just to be a man means you’ve a shortcoming.”
She took in her audience and struck where it would do the most harm. Men always had one weakness and she intended to capitalize on it. Although she hadn’t been able to see exactly what endowments Roen possessed, men were usually sensitive on the subject of their virility. “Aye, there’s some that saymind you, ‘tis only servant women—that you’ve a mighty short shortcoming.”
The crowd silenced and stared at the warrior and girl. Lenora tilted her chin to an arrogant angle. Roen’s hands worked open and closed. They settled into two deadly fists. One blow might kill her but she would risk it for the possibility of freedom. If Roen left in disgrace or in anger, both she and Beatrice would be safe from the greedy knave.
“Come, brave knight,” she harassed. “Have you something you wish to say? Nay! It surprises me when you are usually so outspoken. Though even then ‘tis not much said of real importance. But then every man cannot be an intelligent speaker. Faith, ‘tis a miracle that most can even speak at all.”
“Woman, get you from me if you value your life.” Roen’s fist lifted. He would silence that dagger tongue once and for all. What had he said about a spanking? She needed a good beating. He took a menacing step forward. Lenora stood her ground, a pleased smile on her lips. Roen drew back his fist.
“Nay, Roen, do not do it,” Hamlin warned.
Still Lenora did not flinch. Roen could see her body tense for the blow. He looked into her eyes. Instead of liquid gold, they glowed deep amber. Roen faltered. ‘Twas not anger that lit her eyes but satisfaction. He lowered his fist and narrowed his eyes to study his adversary. His will took over and he regained his self-control. “Lady Beatrice, I pray, please escort your lady to some other part of the bailey. If you care for her at all, do it now.”
The glint in Lenora’s eyes sharpened like hard flint. An insulting smile tugged at the corners of her deep red lips. He sensed she was well pleased with herself.
Lenora’s crooked smile made her look more childlike. She called, “Come, Beatrice, I’ve no need to stay longer. I am finished, for now, with the knight.” Lenora tossed back her tangled braid and left the group of stunned men. Beatrice gave Hamlin and Roen an apologetic look then ran after her surely demented cousin.
Hamlin stared in shocked confusion. He turned to Roen’s thunderous face. “I had thought you too hard on the girl, but nay, ‘tis the other way around. She is rude and deserves a good beating. I cannot think you will really marry this shrew.” Hamlin shuddered. “Life with her would be a sorrowful institution for sure. Come, let us leave this place. You have not given your word on this marriage. The king can send some other man, one who deserves punishment instead of reward.”
Roen’s angry white face stilled. The clenched fist slowly untightened. The bulging vein in his neck began to return to normal. His men watched their leader with puzzlement. Roen leaned over and began to laugh. The puzzlement changed to wonder, then concern for his sanity.
Great bursts of gut-tightening laughter erupted from Roen. Tears formed in his eyes from the strength of his amusement. “Oh, Hamlin, I must watch that girl more. I believe she could even teach me.”
“Teach you what? How to tear a man in two with words? Has she wounded you so that you are driven mad? I have known you almost all your life and have never seen you act so. What has the girl done?”
Roen wiped the tears from his eyes. “My friend, she warned us at Tintagel that she was intelligent.” Hamlin’s face showed no comprehension. “Think, man, what did you just say?”
“That we should be away from here as soon as the horses can be prepared.”
“And what does the sharp-tongued Lady of Woodshadow wish more than anything?” Roen inquired.
“Right now, I believe she would like to see you cooked slowly over the kitchen spit,” Hamlin answered truthfully.
“Aye, that is true enough. But first, she wants me gone. I have her word that she cannot back out of our marriage. Yet I gave no word to her or her father on the marriage. The only vow I swore was not to strike her. To naysay this marriage I must break my word to her father. Then she and her cousin could renounce me and I could not honorably marry either of them.”
The fog cleared in Hamlin’s mind. “Ah, now I see.” He watched Lenora’s bouncing red hair as the two girls climbed the forebuilding steps of the castle. “You’re right, she did warn us. You came close to succumbing to her plan only moments ago. What stopped you?”
“Her eyes.” Roen shrugged uncomfortably under Hamlin’s scrutiny. “She can lie with her lips, but not with her eyes. They tell too much if one knows how to read them.”
Roen started toward the castle after waving his men back to their duties. Hamlin walked at his side and gave him an irksome look. “’Tis good that you will be able to read your wife so well since she obviously can read you, as well.”
“Christ’s blood, is my own man to vex me now? The woman has no insight on me,” Roen denied.
“Oh, she does, Roen. How else does she know those words that will drive you near mad with anger? I’m afraid that the Lady Lenora reads you like a monk does a book, a huntsman the trail of a boar, like a field man the sky, like a—”
“Will you cease this endless drivel! I liked our conversation before when you thought the woman a harpy,” Roen answered, disgruntled. “Now I must hunt the chit down and expose her plan. I’m tired of this foolishness. She must learn that I can’t be gotten around so easily.”
Roen marched up the steps to the castle, determined to find Lenora. She would marry him and that was it. Her childish behavior would cease, now. She should count herself lucky that a celebrated knight such as he would consider wedding her. He could protect the people and land of Woodshadow better than any other man he knew. There was absolutely no reason why Lenora shouldn’t marry him. No reason at all.
Mystified, Roen felt the dull bruise in his heart begin to pain him again. Damn, the woman was giving him indigestion as well as a headache.
Lenora left Beatrice in the great hall with instructions to keep Matilda away. She rushed down the stairs to the kitchen on the ground floor. Alyse strutted around her domain as regal as any queen. She spied Tyrus, who had retur
ned breathless from the bailey and plopped down on the trestle table.
Alyse pointed to the boy with her spoon. “Tyrus, get yourself to the storeroom an’ fetch me some greens for the noon meal.” The boy snapped up from his lounging position and quickly ran to one of the small rooms built into the walls of the castle. Alyse nodded her satisfaction at the boy’s speed. She carried the oversize wooden spoon in her hand as a warning to those whose actions did not meet her strict specifications.
“My lady, I’ve a need of a word with you.” The wooden spoon waved in Lenora’s direction. “Where are all my kitchen girls? I seen Mirabella out making candles and I hear Charmain is sewing. Ya know I can’t get a decent meal on without enough help.”
Lenora gave a tiny jump and sat on the wooden table, littered with preparations for the midday meal. A wooden bowl filled with batter tempted her palate with the aroma of sweetened nut bread.
Alyse never stopped speaking, only paused long enough to fill her lungs with air. “And speakin’ of the meal. Ya told the butler for me to prepare the fish. That fish is the bottom of the barrel. “Tis so salty it’d take a year of soakin’ to make it edible.” Alyse prepared to continue her tirade but stopped. She watched Lenora scoop a fingerful of buttery nut batter then smacked her lady’s knee sharply with the wooden scepter. “What are ya a mind to be doin’, young lady? Ya tryin’ your darnedest to unravel this keep. Ya got girls who can’t make a stitch in the sewing room and—”
“Ouch!” The tall, grizzled man at the fireplace sucked his finger noisily while he tried to baste several chickens cooking on the spit. Most of the birds were covered in ashes from the fireplace. The man kept a steady flow of obscenities flowing while he worked, oblivious that the blackened appearance of the birds signaled their doneness.
Alyse tossed her heavy black-and-gray braid in the clumsy man’s direction. “Faith be with me, ya got farmhands in ‘ere to turn the meat.”
Lenora licked the batter from her finger and gave her a prudent look. “Patience, Alyse. The girls grow bored with the same routine. ‘Tis only a chance to give them a change. And Clarence, he sprained his ankle and thus cannot work the demesne these next few days. I thought his strong back could serve in the kitchen and save you the heavy task of turning the spit.” Alyse waited, her mighty arms folded across her ample chest. The spoon twitched a steady staccato beat. “I will soon wed and must run this vast keep. Is it not best for me to ease my way in now?”
Alyse snuffled a retort. “Ya’ve been arunnin’ this keep since ya come home. Oh, you let that harpy of an aunt think she’s arunnin’ things but there’s not a serf or freeman in Woodshadow don’t know the truth. Every time that woman makes a mistake or would put our stores in short supply, ya manage to come up with a way to go around her. ‘Tis no secret ya been seein’ after poor Sir Hywel. But, love, the man’s mind is goin’ just like his father afore ‘im. Ya can’t keep a-goin’ like this forever.” Alyse began to twirl the wooden spoon in her beefy hand.
Lenora cracked walnuts and deposited the meats into the batter. “This bread will be wonderful. Will it be ready for tonight’s meal?” She slipped several dark, shriveled nuts into the batter. The tough meats would give the bread a bitter taste. Alyse continued on, unaware of the sabotage.
“Ya given that man, Sir Galliard, the wrong impression, girl. The way ya been carryin’ on he’ll think ya don’t know the first thing about bein’ a lady. ‘Tis a wonder he’s still thinkin’ on marryin’ ya.” Alyse opened her mouth to continue, but the nuances of her last sentence sank in.
The cook pursed her lips and sat down heavily on the bench near the table where Lenora sat. She eyed the girl seriously and placed her wooden spoon on the timeworn table. “Lady Lenora, ya don’t know watch ya doin’. The knight’s a fine man. He’s right easy on the eyes, as any of the kitchen girls can tell ya. Faith, I feel me old bones a-buzzin’ when I gets a look at ‘im and it’s been a spell since I’ve felt that.” Alyse gave her lady’s hand a sympathetic pat. “Ya’ve got to face the facts. You’re noble-born, not like the rest of us. Ya must marry who your father chooses and he’s chosen Sir Galliard. Don’t make it harder on yourself, lass.”
Lenora’s discontent marked her words. “Father promised me I could choose. And when I do, it shan’t be a dull-witted clod. ‘Twill be someone gentle and caring. Someone like Father.”
Alyse shook her head in disagreement. “Your father’s a man of high temper. He and your mother had their share of squabbles.”
“I know that. But Father loved and respected Mother. I’m no fool to wish for love, Alyse. But I do think I can expect my husband to respect his wife. Galliard does not respect any woman.” Lenora rose slowly from the table and faced her concerned kitchen woman. “Don’t worry, Alyse, I can take care of myself. Galliard will realize the folly this marriage would be. He will go his way and I will be free to marry who I wish. I’m much too clever for his like.”
She gave Alyse a bright smile and skipped from the kitchen into the dazzling sunlight of midmorning. Alyse’s disapproving tsk sounded behind her back. The sound did not sway her from her plan. If anyone could make Galliard change his mind it was her. He did not stand a chance.
Roen waited on the top step, just out of sight of the people below, listening to Lenora and the serving woman. A chuckle rumbled in his throat and threatened to erupt into an uncontrolled burst of laughter. The conversation explained much. A tiny trickle of esteem meandered through him for his betrothed. She’d not break her word, but that didn’t stop her from seeking another way out of her predicament. Her plan had come close to succeeding outside. The wench knew just the right things to rile him.
Lenora’s last statement wiped the smile from his lips. Guilt caused him a pang of remorse. The truth of her speech stabbed an old wound. Love, Roen did not need or want, but he could understand the need for respect. Determined to make amends, he returned to the great hall. He only hoped he could call a truce before Lenora began her poisonous stings. ‘Twould be hard to explain his change of attitude if his hands were on her throat.
Chapter Twelve
“Icannot believe your foolishness,” Beatrice railed. “The man could have killed you with one blow. What possessed you to purposely vex him so?”
Lenora shrugged her shoulders. “That is between Galliard and myself. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of things.”
Beatrice stopped and whirled around to face her cousin. “Don’t worry? Lenora, that is what you always say. I am worried. I cannot help but think that this situation you are in is somehow connected to me.”
“Nay, this has nothing to do with you. Galliard is seizing an opportunity to profit from my father’s illness.”
“I hope you are not sacrificing your happiness because of me, for I think it is of no use.” Beatrice’s eyes misted.
“You know me better, Cousin. I am most selfish and would never think such a deed,” Lenora joked, yet the melancholy did not leave her cousin’s face. “Pray, tell me what wears at you.”
The overwrought girl hid her eyes behind her slender fingers and contained sobs racked her body. Lenora led her cousin outside the inner wall to a crumbling grape arbor in the garden. The peaceful spot offered a small piece of privacy in the crowded castle.
“I received this from Geoffrey yestermorn.” From a pocket at her waist, Beatrice pulled a folded piece of paper. “He is leaving his father’s keep as soon as you marry.”
“Leaving, but what of you?”
Beatrice’s eyes watered freely. “Geoffrey does not believe Woodshadow’s new lord will ever condone our union. Lenora, he told me to forget him. That he will never see me again after your wedding.”
Add another sin to Galliard’s list, Lenora thought. In saving her cousin from marriage to Galliard, she had lost the young woman her only chance at marital bliss.
Beatrice delicately wiped the tears from her eyes with a linen handkerchief. “I am sorry to burden you with my problems when you have so many. Ex
cuse me, I would like to meditate in prayer within the chapel.”
Lenora started to follow. “I will come with you.”
“Nay. I know you mean well but you have never been one for quiet deliberations in the chapel.” Beatrice spoke in a quiet, tired voice. “Go and walk in the woods. It has always calmed you in the past. Perhaps there you will find some answers to the problems that smite us now.” She did not reprove Lenora, only sent a plea for her to understand her need for solitude.
“Aye, ‘tis a good idea. I won’t be gone long.” Lenora gave the woman a quick hug and turned to leave the confines of Woodshadow.
The green canopy of the forest cooled the force of the afternoon sun. She waited at the edge and allowed her eyes to adjust to the green wash of the woods. Spring songbirds called to their mates from the high branches overhead. The wind stirred the branches, which added a fairylike quality to the song of nature.
Though many in the village believed the woods were the playground of little people and demons, Lenora plunged into the forest unafraid. The woods offered the privacy that was so hard to achieve at the keep. She kept to the heavily trafficked path and made a mental note of her location. With the turmoil in her mind ‘twould be easy to lose her way. No adventuring today, she would head for the clearing that Geoffrey had shown her.
She found the oasis of long silky grass easily. The tranquil spot beckoned. Lenora skipped into the semicircle and breathed deeply. The refreshing scent of crushed grass and the faint perfume of spring flowers glided on the air. She lay down in the middle of the clearing, clasped her fingers behind her head and closed her eyes. The peacefulness of her surroundings sifted into her mind and calmed her worries.
“I see this is one of your favorite spots, also. I suppose the tales of witches and spirits do not scare you?”
Lenora bolted upright then relaxed. “Geoffrey, you are forever sneaking up on me. If I hear a voice in these woods, ‘twould more likely be you than a specter.”
