Cormant held up three fingers. “Three, I believe. A widower with two sons and a daughter.”
Adam brushed his knuckles back and forth against his cheek. “I have spoken to Vincent Lallement. He agrees we should seek a suitable husband for Rosamunda. I will ask her to accompany me. Are the Revandel sons of marriageable age?”
Cormant talked on, but Adam did not make the effort to understand. The thought of Rosamunda in another man’s bed churned his gut.
~~~
Rosamunda held the reins as she had been shown. The sweet palfrey Adam had given her followed Nox out of the courtyard. Since Nox was named for the night, she deemed it clever to christen her steed Lux—light. Adam had rolled his eyes!
She loved riding. Adam had declared her a born horsewoman.
Paulina refused to leave East Preston, and Denis opted to stay with her.
Accompanying Adam to Poling was an adventure Rosamunda relished, thrilled he had asked her. She filled her lungs with fresh air, trying to put a name to the scents. There was a hint of the sea that lessened as they rode north. From time to time she caught the aroma of a certain tree, or wildflower. How to learn their names? Denis seemed to be knowledgeable on many subjects. She would consult him.
Then there was Adam’s scent, one she recognised every time he entered a room. Clean, wholesome, minty. She suspected that, like her brothers, he was in the habit of chewing spearmint leaves.
She was afraid she had annoyed him with endless questions about the family they were on their way to visit. Vincent and Lucien had never mentioned them. She resolved not to badger him further. It must be difficult to ride and concentrate on her lips at the same time.
They continued on for a while in silence, before Adam glanced over at her. “You are too quiet, miss.”
His face reddened when it dawned on him what he had said.
She shrugged, drawing a finger across her lips.
He frowned. “Why?”
Her heart raced. Dare she reveal she had guessed his secret? She pointed one finger at him, then two to her eyes, then to the road ahead. “Watch the road.”
He shifted his weight in the saddle. “It’s an easy path, completely flat. The only turn we make is west at Angmering. The manor house there is one of oncle Hugh’s.”
The uncomfortable silence continued. The mention of her hero’s name gave her courage. She touched Adam’s arm, wanting him to look her in the face. He turned his head quickly, his eyes narrowed. She swallowed hard, pointed to him, then covered her ears, shaking her head. “You cannot hear.”
She had trusted it would be a relief to him that she knew, and that it mattered not a whit, but he clenched his jaw and scowled. “You have guessed correctly. I am deaf.”
He urged Nox forward to ride ahead, ending their conversation.
~~~
Adam took several deep breaths in an effort to drown out the thudding in his ears. What irony that a deaf man heard his own heartbeat!
A cruel fate had brought him Rosamunda, the one woman who cared naught that he was deaf. And for her, who better to take as husband than a man unable to hear?
It would appear they were destined to be together. She no doubt believed it. There was an undeniable attraction between them. She made no secret of her affection for him, and he loved her smile, her curiosity, her untamed hair, her body, though he was incapable of fulfilling a woman’s deepest physical need.
His throat tightened as the wind carried her perfume to his nostrils, the elusive scent that was pure Rosamunda. It reminded him of something, but what? He felt her eyes on his back, angry he had turned away. She probably believed her revelation had caused his rude reaction.
He toyed with the notion of returning to East Preston. He had not informed the Revandel family of his visit, preferring to make an unannounced inspection. But he dreaded the moment when the astute Rosamunda would inevitably deduce that the journey was in part to ascertain if either Revandel son might make her a suitable husband.
She would believe he disdained her. Nothing was further from the truth. The love he felt was pure, from the heart.
~~~
Rosamunda had trusted freedom would bring her nothing but joy, but now she felt slightly faint and nauseous after Adam’s rejection. Revealing what was in one’s heart was evidently not the best course of action in the real world.
She had assumed he would be relieved. But then why had he not told her he was deaf? The thought must have occurred to him that his affliction would not lessen her regard, might indeed bring them closer.
She suddenly felt more alone and isolated than she had ever been during her confinement. She wished she had not accompanied Adam—though he had been somewhat insistent. Better to have stayed with Paulina. Perhaps her sister had the right of it. She would have to guard her feelings more carefully.
She had fancied Adam was attracted to her—how foolish. He was from a rich and powerful family, a strikingly handsome man any woman would want, despite his deafness. She had quickly forgotten that her own mother had rejected her because of her muteness. Why would Adam de Montbryce feel any differently?
The sooner Kingston Gorse was rebuilt, the faster she and Paulina might return to the only home they had ever known. Vincent would protect them.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Letyce Revandel pouted as she strolled listlessly through the garden of Poling Manor with her maidservant, a kerchief guarding her sensitive nose against the pollen.
The sound of horses approaching caught her attention. Visitors at last!
Her father had buried her alive in this godforsaken place in Sussex, far from the court life she enjoyed in Westminster. He had berated her endlessly about the need to marry, but she had no intention of tying herself to one man.
If her father became aware how many beaux pursued her, he might die of an apoplexy! And the gullible fool believed her twin brothers, Winrod and Dareau, were saints to be emulated. He knew nothing of the money they had frittered away dicing, wenching and drinking.
Bored to death at Poling, she hurried to see who was arriving, ignoring the censure of the prissy maidservant her father had procured for her.
Her mouth fell open at the sight of a tall, dark haired knight mounted atop an impressive black stallion, in his wake a squadron of men-at-arms.
Belatedly, she noticed a blonde woman riding alongside the knight. No competition there. The girl was tall and pretty, but certainly nothing to compare with Letyce’s lush curves. And her hair! What an unruly mess. Perhaps his sister.
Letyce thrust out her breasts and fluttered her eyelashes as the knight reined his horse to a halt in front of her. He dismounted with graceful ease. Had she ever seen such long, powerful legs! Her heart skipped a beat as desire spiralled in her belly.
The knight bowed. “Demoiselle Revandel?”
She nodded demurely. “I am Letyce Revandel.”
“I am Adam de Montbryce. My father, Antoine, is the overlord of Poling Manor. I am here to meet your father. Is he at home?”
He stared at her mouth, obviously already falling under her spell. Could she trust herself to speak? “He is, my lord de Montbryce.”
She shoved her maidservant. “Violette will announce your arrival.”
The woman sulked and glared, but went off to do her mistress’s bidding.
Letyce held out her hand. “I will accompany you into the house, if you wish.”
Montbryce bent to graze a kiss on her knuckles. His warm lips sent a shiver of anticipation creeping up her thighs.
He proffered his arm. She put her hand atop it, relishing his solid strength, tempted to knead her fingers into the muscles. She smiled coyly and took a step towards the house.
But he turned to the girl standing by the palfrey she had ridden. “Letyce Revandel, may I present Rosamunda Lallement, a neighbour of mine.”
Good, the chit is not his wife.
The girl bowed her head slightly and mouthed something incoherent. Was she imbecilic?
<
br /> Montbryce offered his free arm to the blonde. “She is mute,” he explained to Letyce.
Letyce almost laughed out loud.
~~~
Rosamunda took an instant dislike to the red haired woman who greeted them. She had learned the word harlot from her brothers’ descriptions of some women at court, and this Letyce Revandel fit the word perfectly. At first sight of Adam, she had quickly dropped the kerchief that had covered her face.
Her sneer upon learning of Rosamunda’s muteness was proof enough that Paulina had been right. They would encounter nothing but prejudice outside the safety of their home. Again she wished she had stayed at East Preston.
The harlot’s eyes had popped out of her head upon espying Adam. Rosamunda saw through her thinly veiled attempts to keep his attention.
Jealousy roared through her. She wanted to tear Letyce Revandel limb from limb. What was the other word Lucien was fond of? Ah, yes. The hore leaned into Adam as they walked, ignoring her completely. Rosamunda put her free hand over her ear to block out the swish of Letyce’s skirts against Adam’s leg.
Did he not see she was older than he? Certainly older than Rosamunda.
His voice caught her off guard. “Are you ill, Rosamunda? Does your ear pain you?”
He seemed genuinely concerned, but her wits failed her. She took her hand away from her ear, shaking her head as she gazed at the ground. He must not see the tears welling in her eyes.
~~~
Adam understood Letyce’s blatant signals. There was a time his male ego, not to mention his shaft, would have risen to the challenge, but now her forward behaviour left him cold. Compared to the innocent Rosamunda, this woman was a harlot.
He had managed to understand most of her constant chatter by concentrating closely on her lips. It was important he establish good relations with these new occupants.
It grieved him that Letyce Revandel had greeted Rosamunda rudely. Would she switch off her suffocating charm when she discovered he too suffered an impairment?
As they neared the main doorway, two young men appeared, twins by the look of them. Adam judged they were younger than their sister, but not by much. They had Letyce’s red hair, but thankfully she had been spared the prominent nose they had evidently inherited. The feature, while not rendering them ugly, robbed them of any chance to be considered handsome.
They were town boys, tall and lanky, but lacking the muscled body of a knight. He suspected they did not spend much time practising swordplay and other military pursuits. The only weapons in evidence were daggers tucked into the belts of the identical tunics they wore.
He’d a mind to forget sizing them up as potential husband material for Rosamunda. But Denis had taught him that looks were sometimes deceiving. He would reserve judgement.
Both youths ignored him, their eyes raking over Rosamunda. Her hand tightened on his arm as she leaned into him. He relished the softness of her breast pressed against his bicep, but he gritted his teeth at the brazen way they looked at her. Possessiveness twisted under his ribs.
Scowling, Letyce drew their attention away from Rosamunda. “Milord de Montbryce, may I present my brothers, Winrod and Dareau Revandel.”
Both men barely looked at him, until Letyce remarked that he was the son of their overlord. Then they became effusive, bowing ridiculously low, as if he were King Henry. The knot in his belly tightened. Were they mocking him?
“Milord de Montbryce,” one of them gushed. “Dareau and I are your humble servants. Had we known you were coming—”
Dareau shouldered his brother out of the way, reaching for Rosamunda’s hand. “And who is this lovely lady?”
Adam gripped the hilt of his sword, bracing for another insult. “Rosamunda Lallement is from Kingston Gorse. The manor house burned and she and her sister are staying at East Preston while her home is rebuilt.”
Smiling broadly, Rosamunda withdrew her hand, but wisely said nothing.
Clever girl! The Revandel brothers would not recognize the false smile for what it was. Rosamunda was a quick study in the ways of the world. For a brief moment he pitied whichever of these men might become her husband, but pushed the unpleasant thought away.
Letyce’s fingernails dug into his arm. She huffed impatiently as she pulled him away from her brothers and into the house.
~~~
Alphonse Revandel was a portly little man, who seemed to bear no resemblance to any of his children. Adam wondered about the dead woman who had been their mother. Had she been the one with the hooked beak?
When Letyce introduced Adam to her father, Revandel’s face reddened and he too bowed low. These people had supposedly taken an active part in court life. Did they have no sense of a person’s rank and the appropriate level of respect to show?
“Milord de Montbryce! What an honour! If we had known—”
Adam unhooked Letyce’s talons from his arm and raised a hand to interrupt his host. “It was a last minute decision to ride this way,” he lied. “Rosamunda has seen little of the countryside, despite having lived all her life at Kingston Gorse.”
As the initial pleasantries of introductions progressed it became impossible for Rosamunda to remain silent. She mouthed a greeting which Adam understood perfectly. Revandel and his sons gaped, exchanging frowning glances. Letyce snorted.
Adam strove to keep his temper. It was fortunate Denis and Paulina had not accompanied them. “Rosamunda is mute, but she understands everything we say. In time you will learn to understand her equally well.”
Winrod swaggered forward, standing too close to Rosamunda. He fingered a strand of her hair. “Mute, eh? What a boon for your husband.”
~~~
Rosamunda wanted to spit in Winrod Revandel’s face. Surely this was not how young men were supposed to behave? It brought to mind a ginger cat she had seen toying with a mouse at East Preston. Adam tensed beside her, his jaw clenched. She had sensed his discomfort since the moment they arrived at Poling.
He put a hand on Winrod’s chest. “Have a care. Demoiselle Lallement is under my protection.”
Rosamunda liked the sound of that. She hoped they would not stay long with these unpleasant people.
Winrod stepped back, but the predatory glint remained in his eyes. The smile left his face when his brother elbowed him out of the way. Dareau brushed his lips over Rosamunda’s knuckles before she could grab her hand away. “You must forgive Winrod. He has no notion of manners as practised out here in the country.”
Surely manners were manners no matter where a person dwelt? She resolved never to go to King Henry’s court.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Letyce turned her face away from her pitiful father, wishing she had refused the summons to his solar. His breath had always reeked of the onions he was fond of. Indeed the whole chamber stank of the obnoxious bulb. How had her mother borne it?
“Mark my words, daughter, and heed me well. This is your opportunity. Adam de Montbryce will make a fine husband. His family is powerful both here and in Normandie, and wealthy beyond imagining. God has smiled on us today.”
Letyce was tempted to provoke the usual argument, but her father was right for once. Wealth and power were things she craved. Marriage to Adam would bring her both. He was certainly attractive, no doubt an excellent lover. When she tired of him, there were always discreet liaisons to be found.
She put a conspiratorial hand on her father’s arm. “He seems taken with the muette for some unfathomable reason.”
Her father winked. “Leave her to me. She will make the ideal wife for Winrod, or Dareau.”
Letyce smiled. “Or perhaps they might share her?”
Alphonse Revandel’s eyes widened, his face reddening. “Share? But—”
Perhaps she had gone too far. No use planting suspicions in her father’s mind regarding her own proclivities. The fool might disinherit her, or worse, send her to a nunnery. “I’m jesting, Papa.”
He let out a long slow breath, rubbing his han
ds together. “’Tis settled then. I have arranged for you to sit beside Montbryce in the Hall, and the muette is between my two handsome sons.”
Letyce rolled her eyes as she followed her father into the Hall for the evening meal.
~~~
Rising panic threatened to cut off breath to Rosamunda’s lungs. Her belly ached. Adam was seated at the other end of the head table, the first time he had not been at her side since the rescue. To make matters worse, the terrible twosome had her hemmed in. Winrod sidled along the bench to press his thigh against hers. Dareau followed suit. She felt the heat of their bodies—it made her blood run cold.
She had not been given a trencher. Dareau stuffed a large piece of venison into his mouth, then cut more from his portion and offered it to her. Winrod did the same. She had been told men only shared a trencher with their wives, or the women they were betrothed to. The idea of marriage to either of these competitive idiots had bile rising in her throat.
She shook her head and patted her belly, wrinkling her nose.
Winrod elbowed her in the arm. “Queasy? Probably the journey.”
Dareau winked. “Unless she’s in the family way.”
Rosamunda gasped. She did not want to embarrass Adam by jumping to her feet in protest, but—
She looked down the table, seeking his eyes. He was gazing at Letyce’s lips, seemingly enthralled. The harlot had pressed close to him, or had Adam initiated the contact?
Winrod touched her arm, waving the gamy venison in front of her. “You must eat something.”
The room tilted. She covered her mouth and leapt to her feet, hoping to reach the outdoors before she retched.
She did not make it. The last thing she recalled was the disgusted grimace of the serving wench over whose shoes she had vomited. Strong arms caught her as she swooned.
~~~
Frustration tightened Letyce’s jaw as she watched Adam race from the table in time to catch the mute woman when she fainted.
Montbryce seemed fascinated with Letyce’s mouth, intent on her words, yet it had been difficult to get him to respond to her advances. She had touched his arm, pressed her body close to his, even put her hand on his thigh, closer to his male parts than might be deemed proper, so there was no mistaking her intent.
Haunted Knights (Montbryce~The Next Generation Historical Romance) Page 9
