Cormant bowed. “Lallement? From Kingston Gorse? I thought—”
Now the questions would begin, the explanations she was ill equipped to provide, the gasps of disbelief. Cormant would not be the last.
Adam interrupted him, evidently sensing Cormant’s confusion and her discomfort. “Marc and Maudine Lallement died in a fire at the house yestereve.”
He gestured towards Denis, now riding in with Paulina behind the servants’ cart. “We have brought their daughters here while Vincent and Lucien set about securing and rebuilding the manor. We will need several chambers prepared.”
Cormant’s eyes widened further, now evidently understanding Rosamunda’s dishevelled appearance. “My condolences.”
Rosamunda supposed she should feel more grief for her parents, but she mouthed the word Merci.
Cormant furrowed his brow and looked to his Master.
“Demoiselle Lallement is muette, Cormant,” Adam explained.
Cormant’s mouth fell open. He cleared his throat, his eyes darting from Adam to Denis to Paulina, then back to Rosamunda. “The young ladies will need clothing, I assume.”
His puzzlement over Paulina’s size was apparent as Denis handed her down to the steward. Denis scowled at him as he dismounted and relieved Cormant of his burden. “The sooner you begin, the quicker it will be.”
Cormant was about to hurry away, but Adam stopped him. “As you see, we have brought servants with us who will have to be accommodated. One wagon failed. There is another contingent to pick up on the cliff path.”
Cormant’s eyes narrowed as he looked to the cart. The servants huddled together, evidently unsure what was to become of them. They gawked at the scene unfolding in the courtyard. Rosamunda smiled inwardly. They likely did make a peculiar sight; a giant and a dwarf each carrying a woman perfectly suited to him.
Her body warmed, but she must not assume too much. She had no experience of this new world into which she had been thrust. Adam de Montbryce might be the man of her fancies, but she knew nothing of men.
All she knew of life beyond the attic rooms of Kingston Gorse, she had learned from her brothers. She suspected married women were not free to come and go as they pleased. She had longed for freedom.
Denis de Sancerre might appear to be the right man for Paulina, but her sister was delicate, sensitive. Her heart would break easily. Rosamunda would do her utmost to make sure that did not happen.
~~~
“You need not carry me, sir,” Paulina insisted. “My stature does not preclude me walking by myself.”
Sancerre’s scowl deepened and she instantly regretted the hasty words. This miniature knight addled her normally agile brain. “I apologise,” she murmured as he set her on her feet. “That was a thoughtless remark.”
His glower did not lessen. “It was indeed, but I acknowledge your apology. Since you can walk I shall escort you into the Hall.”
He put a hand to the small of her back to guide her in Montbryce’s wake. Was he toying with her, or being chivalrous? She had hugged her brothers, but this touch of thick fingers, light yet firm, was more intimate somehow.
Not wishing to appear churlish, she allowed him to guide her. It actually felt good to have someone take care of her welfare.
She suspected East Preston was not as grand a house as her own, having only two stories. There were numerous sturdy looking outbuildings, framed with large timber uprights filled with wattle and daub. She recognised they were chinked with moss to keep out the winter cold. There was a stone building set aside from the wooden house, which she assumed was the kitchen. They had the same precaution at Kingston Gorse, and much good it had done them. How had the conflagration started? Her father had died crying foul murder. Had her mother set the fire?
She looked up at the roof which appeared to be well thatched. A shiver rippled through her at the memory of the burning thatch raining down from the roof of Kingston Gorse.
Sancerre put a hand to her elbow. “You are safe now,” he whispered.
Had he read her thoughts?
She gasped as they entered the house. The interior was elaborately decorated with ornamental wood turnings, the wooden floor softened with wattle mats. Elegant tapestries adorned the walls.
Adam had set Rosamunda down in a chair before a hearty fire burning in the hearth. He turned to Paulina. “Come, warm yourself.”
She complied, but did not sit in the massive chair he indicated. It would be an inelegant struggle to get into it, and her feet would dangle in the air. She stood by Rosamunda’s chair, holding her chilled hands to the warmth, gazing into the flames.
Fire had taken everything from her, almost robbed her of life. Yet it had brought freedom. If the flames held the secret of what the future had in store, they did not reveal it, no matter how hard she stared.
~~~
Adam had never paid much attention to the house itself, though he shared his father’s pride in it and felt at home there. It certainly was not as grand as Belisle Castle, but it was warm and welcoming. Perhaps therein lay the reason he had chosen to come here to exorcise his demons.
Carrying Rosamunda over the threshold, he saw the house through different eyes, savouring every lime-washed panel, every stair, every chamber. Much of the old house, left derelict for five years after the Conquest, had to be rebuilt from split and planed timbers, fastened together with iron nails.
Rosamunda mouthed something, but he was intent on staring at the rosy glow the fire had brought to her cheeks, and missed it.
He leaned closer, arching his brows, shaking his head slightly.
She looked at him curiously as he stared at her lips. “Beautiful house.”
“Oui, Cormant’s father and uncle worked like dogs to reclaim it, not to mention the rat catcher.”
She laughed. “Isembart Jubert.”
“You know the story of Isembart?”
Her eyes sparkled. “Hugh and Devona and Izzy!”
For some unfathomable reason he suddenly felt jealous of his cousin Izzy. “How did you learn of them?”
Paulina interrupted. “Our brothers. Rosamunda never tires of hearing the tale.”
~~~
Adam had not heard Paulina’s explanation. Denis touched a hand to Adam’s hip. Adam turned to face him. “Their brothers told them the story.”
Adam smiled at Rosamunda, and she giggled.
Paulina scowled at Denis. It struck him then that of course she would not understand why he had repeated her words. But it was for Adam to speak of his affliction if he wished it known. He stood close to her, feeling the reflected heat of the fire. “Adam did not hear you,” he murmured.
Paulina shrugged, folding her arms across her breasts, and took a step away from him.
Cormant entered the Hall, two maidservants in tow. Both gawked at Paulina. Denis had often been the recipient of such stares. Wanting to protect the tiny woman whose life he had saved, he stood behind her, shielding her from their view.
Fire flooded his veins that had naught to do with the flames in the grate. He itched to enfold her in his arms, but it was too soon. He had patience. He would bide his time, help her overcome her fears. First he would have to stop scowling. No wonder the woman was cool towards him.
Cormant stiffened his shoulders and gestured to the servants. “Hortense and Victorine will serve your guests as ladies’ maids.”
Each girl bobbed a curtsey, then scurried off when Cormant waved them away. “Chambers have been prepared for Mesdemoiselles Lallement. Follow me, please.”
Smiling broadly, Denis offered his arm to Paulina. To his immense relief, she accepted and he escorted her out of the Hall, leaving Adam to accompany Rosamunda.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Adam chafed that he was neglecting his responsibilities to his father. He had undertaken to visit Antoine’s ten manor houses in Sussex, yet had been incapable of summoning the will to leave East Preston for three sennights.
He had informed Belisle of the
fire at Kingston Gorse by way of the pigeon relay used for more than thirty years. The message had explained that no tithes could be expected from Kingston Gorse for some time to come, given the tragic circumstances of the Lallements’ deaths.
No mention was made of his and Denis’ presence in the house at the time of the fire; their mother would fret over it.
It was impossible to explain the existence of Rosamunda and Paulina in a short missive. How to describe what he was beginning to feel for Rosamunda? She was full of life, determined to explore the house and grounds, asking a thousand questions about it and the other manor houses the Montbryces had been granted.
What had Antoine done to deserve such a gift from the Conqueror? How many manors in total? Were they all two stories? All made of wood?
She rushed into the house one day, her joy evident at having discovered rosemary growing in the herb garden.
She wanted to learn how to ride. When she discovered the weaving shed, she begged to be taught how to weave.
She haunted the kitchens, never making a nuisance of herself, simply watching wide eyed.
She could not speak, but Adam was learning to understand her. His deafness had no bearing on their conversations. She seemed to be unaware he could not hear.
She refused to do any embroidery or needlework, swearing an oath to never take up a needle again. She wanted to hear of Antoine’s bravery at Hastings over and over. He told her the tale of his oncle Hugh and tante Devona and she was enthralled by details her brothers had not been aware of.
She wept at the story of his father taking his mother prisoner during a siege. She shuddered when he told of Denis’ birth and the mob out for his blood, making him wish he had not mentioned it. It was perhaps too akin to her family’s history.
She put both hands over her heart. “Love? Your parents.”
Adam chuckled. “Passionately.”
A tear trickled down her cheek. “My mother—no love.” She grimaced. “Only hate.”
His heart went out to this young woman. He wanted to enfold her in his arms and protect her from being hurt ever again. But he was not the man to fulfill all her needs. He might bring her pleasure, but could not plant the seed of a child in her belly.
It saddened him immensely. He loved spending time with her, but keeping his hands off her body was proving increasingly difficult.
The maidservants quickly fashioned chemises, nightshifts and bliauts for the Lallement women to replace the borrowed raiment. Paulina was particularly grateful, having been reduced to wearing clothing of the children of servants who were not as well endowed above the waist as she.
Denis seemingly could not take his eyes off the tiny woman. “What a pair we are, brother,” he remarked one day after they had been practising swordplay in the courtyard. “God brings us two beautiful women and we have no idea what to do with them.”
Leaning his hip against the wall of the well, Adam took a gulp of water from the dipper, then wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his sweat soaked shirt. “I know what I’d love to do with Rosamunda, but that is impossible.”
Denis accepted the dipper Adam had refilled from the bucket. “But think on it.” He pointed to Adam’s ears. “You are deaf, and we stumble into a girl who is muette.” He touched his lips, then thumped his chest. “I am a dwarf and your muette’s sister is the smallest woman I have ever seen. Surely the fine hand of destiny is at work somewhere here?”
Adam groaned, wiping the sweat from his brow. He understood the gist of what Denis was trying to say, but—
“My inadequacies go deeper than my deafness. Rosamunda will want children.”
“Have you asked her?”
Adam brought his fist down on the stone wall and threw the bucket back into the well. The windlass squealed as the rope unwound, until they heard a soft splash. “Non! I do not intend to reveal my problem to her. You are the only one who knows, and it must stay that way.”
“She’s drawn to you. Perhaps it—”
Gooseflesh marched up Adam’s neck. “Non! She will find someone else and forget me. I will speak to her brothers. Perhaps at one of father’s other manors there exists a worthy knight who would make her a good husband.”
Denis looked at him sadly. “The same will not likely hold true for her sister. Dieu! I want that woman.”
Adam put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Then woo her.”
~~~
Denis inhaled deeply, wishing he had never met Paulina Lallement. The ugliness he had striven his whole life to overcome stood in sharp contrast to her beauty. “Have you seen the way she looks at me, Adam? She may be small, but she is not an aberration like me.”
“She is afraid, Denis. Rosamunda confided to me that her sister did not long for freedom as she did. She has been afraid for a long time. She considers she is a freak of nature.”
Denis raked his hands through his hair. “But she is stunningly beautiful.”
“She does not see it. She sees only her size.”
Denis snorted. “I know the feeling!”
“She needs your strength.”
Denis held his arms wide, palms towards his body. “Look at me. Why would a beautiful woman want to bed this?”
Adam poked him in the chest. “Don’t give me those excuses. You have never wallowed in self pity. Don’t start now. You have much to offer a woman. You are one of the finest men I know.”
Denis gazed into the well. “You’re right, but the possibility of her rejecting me is more than I can bear. I’ve never risked my heart before.”
~~~
Watching from windows was the habit of a lifetime for Rosamunda. Paulina had at first resisted her suggestion that they both watch Adam and Denis practice swordplay with their men-at-arms in the courtyard. However, curiosity got the better of her. She had brought over a stool and the two sisters had gaped transfixed at the scene.
Most of the combatants were stripped to the waist. Rosamunda barely noticed them, her eyes fixed on Adam’s white linen shirt moulded to his broad chest and shoulders. He was a capable swordsman, easily disarming any of the men who challenged him. His long legs gave him a distinct advantage. She grew hot at the thought of kneading his strong thighs with her fingers.
It was not the first time this idea had crossed her mind. Each day in the Hall, she sat next to him at meal times, feeling the heat from those powerful thighs. But he was careful to leave space between them.
Did he judge her unattractive, or was there something else? Something she could not put her finger on.
After their exercise, Adam cranked up the bucket from the well. The brothers shared a drink as they talked.
“Perplexed,” she mouthed to Paulina.
Receiving no response, she poked her sister’s shoulder, startled to see drool trickling down her chin. She traced a line from the corner of her mouth. “Drooling.”
Paulina looked up at her sharply, hastily wiping her mouth. “I am not.”
Rosamunda shrugged. “What are they discussing?”
Red faced, Paulina got down off the stool and left the window. “Who knows?”
Rosamunda squinted, trying to watch Adam’s lips, but he was too far away. It was curious how he bent his head and stared at the dwarf when he spoke, as if the smaller man was too far away to hear!
Ridiculous! Just because he’s short—
She slapped her forehead with her palm. How had she not seen the truth?
Adam cannot hear.
It explained the sullen anger he often exhibited, the constant frown as he strained to understand what people said. She guessed he had not been deaf long. Her brothers had hinted at some recent change in him. What could render a man deaf? An accident? A malady?
Adam had watched her lips carefully, not because he liked her mouth, or was truly interested in what she had to say, but because he was deaf. Her muteness was of no consequence.
Her heart leapt into her throat.
That she was mute did not matter.
/> ~~~
Paulina was mortified. Imagine drooling at the thought of untying the leather thong that bound Sancerre’s thick curly hair. What would it feel like to run her fingers through it?
If only she could let go of her fear and respond to his kindness, instead of behaving like a shrew. Perhaps she was more like her mother than she wanted to admit.
It was true he was not a handsome man, but he was strong and surprisingly agile for one with such a tortured physique. He had confided in her as they sat at table in the Hall that he was a better cavalry man than a foot soldier, but he had held his own in the bouts of swordplay.
She looked forward to his conversations at meal times. He was educated, well travelled, honourable. He had saved her life.
But his green eyes filled with longing when he looked at her, and the intensity of his gaze stole away her wits. Her body had developed tinglings in surprising places. One morning she had awakened with her hand clamped firmly where it should not have been. Her already large breasts protested against the fabric of her gown whenever Denis walked into her presence. Her throat constricted and she might have been the mute sister for all she could think to say. Perhaps the smoke had made her ill.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Adam’s first official visit as his father’s representative would be to the manor at Poling. The estate had changed hands several times over the years, and his father had mentioned that the current Norman family were relatively recent occupants. Cormant had vetted them and arranged everything, but a visit from the overlord’s son would not go amiss. He had delayed too long already.
He questioned his Steward. “It’s a Norman family, I assume?”
Cormant spread out the pertinent documents on the trestle table in the tiny Map Room. “Oui, Alphonse Revandel is the name. Recently retired from some prestigious position at Court, apparently with a generous purse from His Majesty. His references were impeccable.”
Adam traced a finger over the royal seal. “Hard to fault a King.”
Cormant chuckled. “Indeed!”
“Children?”
Haunted Knights (Montbryce~The Next Generation Historical Romance) Page 8
