Velvet Bond

by Catherine Archer

  Aye, he told himself as he let the mystery of the wood surround him with its familiar sights and sounds. Elizabeth was like all the others, seeking only to get what she wanted.

  She was most clever, and must needs be resisted all the more diligently, no matter how difficult that might prove.

  Chapter Seven

  Elizabeth didn’t know what she had expected, but Warwicke came as a surprise. Though, on thinking about it Elizabeth could not understand why. It was the home of a man who wished to keep and protect what was his, a man who gave very little of himself away.

  The castle and grounds were surrounded by a high, wide wall with a walkway all around it. Over the drawbridge stood an immense thirty-foot tower. As they approached, a man leaned out over one of the merlons to watch them with apparent suspicion.

  As soon as Raynor called to him, he cried out a greeting. He then turned and bellowed for someone to open the drawbridge.

  Elizabeth tightened her grip on the reins. Nervous perspiration trickled down her backbone as she sat up straighter in the saddle. Although she was happy to have the journey ended, she was uncertain as to the welcome she might receive from Raynor’s people. Of a surety, they had not expected him to return to Warwicke with a bride.

  There was no telling what to expect.

  Many times Elizabeth had wondered what the castle and its folk were like, but there had been no opportunity to inquire of her husband. Since the incident when he had told her of Bronic and his mother, some three days gone by, Raynor had gone back to treating her as if she did not exist, for the most part. Though he had been careful to address her personally when he did have something to say, he had been no more than icily polite. And even those occasions had been few, as he had limited communication to only the most necessary of exchanges.

  Elizabeth still knew nothing of his child, Willow, and the time had come for them to meet. How would the little one react to her father’s marriage? Even when forewarned of such an event, children often took to a stepparent badly.

  It wasn’t that Elizabeth doubted her ability to mother the little one. She generally had a good rapport with children. She was simply worried that Willow might take her attitude toward Elizabeth from her father. Anyone with eyes could see that Raynor had no liking for his wife.

  But the time for concern in these matters had passed. The reckoning was at hand, and she would simply have to make the best of things, as was her wont.

  Elizabeth held her head high. She had garbed herself carefully this morn, in a gown of rich ivory samite and a tunic of emerald green. Olwyn had brushed her hair and covered the mass of ebony curls with a sheer ivory veil held in place with a circlet of gold. Whether Raynor wanted her or no, Elizabeth meant to show her new people honor by looking her best for her first meeting with them.

  If Raynor had taken note of his wife’s pains with her appearance, he’d certainly given no sign of it. After a brief, penetrating glance when she emerged from her tent that morning, he’d ignored Elizabeth as steadfastly as always.

  Though his dismissal had stung, Elizabeth refused to let it daunt her. It was the goodwill of the people of Warwicke she sought. It was toward this end that Elizabeth set her sights now.

  Raynor had already made it all too apparent that his could not be won.

  It was his dependents with whom she must develop a rapport. Castle living was a close and intimate proposition. In order to expect any kind of harmony, she would need to gain the respect and trust of those she commanded.

  In a very short time, Elizabeth was riding across the drawbridge, which spanned a moat that was relatively free of debris. As it was April, and the weather still fairly cool, there was no foul stench emanating from the water. What smell was present at the moment was more like the richness of a still meadow pond. But she had the feeling that it would not be very bad even in high summer, if the moat was kept so clean as now.

  The castlefolk ran to greet them as they entered the bailey, with Raynor and Bronic in the lead. Elizabeth rode behind them on her white palfrey, and no one seemed to pay her more than cursory attention. But they smiled and called out in welcome to their lord, clearly heartened to see him safe returned to them.

  Elizabeth felt her sagging spirits begin to rise just a little. Obviously Raynor’s people were fond of him, and not afraid to show it.

  This, in her estimation, was a good sign. And Elizabeth was eager to look for good where she could find it.

  But then, as the wagons full of Elizabeth’s household items followed them into the courtyard, the lively chatter died down, and the people looked to their lord and then Elizabeth with curiosity.

  Raynor swung around in the saddle, staring back at his wife with a frown of displeasure on his handsome face. With slow deliberation, he dismounted from his stallion and handed the reins to a waiting groom. Still, he said nothing as he drew off his gauntlets, then ran a hand though his hair, which had been lightened by a film of dust. He did not look at her again as he tucked the gloves under his arm with studied indifference. To Elizabeth, it appeared he would rather do most anything than tell them who she was.

  Beside him, Elizabeth could see Bronic grinning, as if he knew of his brother’s discomfort and was completely amused by it.

  Elizabeth wished she were free to enjoy Raynor’s discomfort as much as Bronic appeared to. But she could not, for she was most assuredly the cause of such.

  The longer Raynor remained silent, the quieter it became.

  Finally, as if he could contain himself no longer, Bronic spoke up, calling their attention to him. “Good people, I fear your lord has trouble finding the words to tell you of his joyous news. As he is too overcome to speak, I will do so in his stead. My brother, Lord Raynor, has taken a bride.”

  All eyes went back to Raynor, as a collective murmur of shock was given. Just as Elizabeth had foreseen, it was clear from the surprise on their faces that none would have expected this.

  Silence came again as they waited for Raynor to speak.

  But he simply stood there, looking frustrated and uncomfortable.

  Irritation made Elizabeth shift upon her palfrey. Whatever was Raynor thinking? Did he mean for them all to know how unhappy he was with his lot?

  Well, Elizabeth had no intention of starting her new life under such a cloud. What was wrong between her and her husband was their business and theirs alone. She would not bear the stigma of everyone knowing she was an unwanted wife.

  And it was clear she could not count on her husband for any assistance, so she must manage for herself.

  Lightly she slipped from her horse and went to stand beside Raynor. With an unfaltering smile, she said, “My most dear lord and husband, do you not wish to introduce me to your folk? I fear this eager welcome has made you shy to speak of us.”

  Giving himself a mental shake, Raynor looked at Elizabeth, seeing the determination in her eyes. He did not know what had come over him. He could only plead not being prepared. Ridiculous as it might seem, not until they had ridden into the keep had he even considered that he would have to introduce her to his people.

  Before that, he’d been too caught up in his own anger over being saddled with her.

  But he had no wish to shame Elizabeth before them all. She was his wife, and she deserved the people’s honor, if for that alone.

  Raynor also had no wish for anyone to know how easily he had fallen into this trap. Thus, he must put a good face on it, at least for the moment. What was between them in private was another affair.

  “Aye,” he said aloud, “I only search for the right words to begin.” Turning to Elizabeth with a warm smile, he took her hand with courtly grace. “Let me present you to my wife, Lady Elizabeth of Warwicke. I hope you will welcome her as you do me.”

  There was a cheer of enthusiasm.

  Elizabeth gave an unintentional start as her eyes met Raynor’s. Not since that first night had he looked upon her with such an expression. The sweetness in his dark gaze near took her brea
th away, and her fingers involuntarily tightened on his. His hand was strong and comforting around hers, and a strange tingling raced up her arm and into her chest, making her heart throb erratically.

  Then, as she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth noted the lines of tension around his mouth and knew this act for what it was.

  Disappointment rose to block her throat. And only the fact that he held her so securely kept her from jerking her hand away.

  What a fool she was to have believed his performance for even a moment! By now she knew Raynor better than to think he would really demonstrate such open affection for her without some reason.

  But, deep within herself, Elizabeth wished that things could really be so. Angrily she chastened herself, knowing she should be grateful that he had been willing to put on this act to save her dignity. More than that she could not expect, and she’d best remember that.

  So thinking, Elizabeth leaned close to her husband and whispered, “You have my thanks, my lord.”

  Raynor was surprised at the warmth and gratitude in her eyes. He’d felt her fingers tighten in his, and for a moment he’d thought...

  No, it was his own physical reaction to her that made him believe she felt the same. Just the touch of her slender fingers in his was enough to force Raynor to fight off images of those delicate hands on his skin.

  As he looked into her eyes, she seemed so young and uncertain. It was a new side of the confident and assured Elizabeth. One that drew him as the night did the moon.

  Before he could stop himself, Raynor gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, then released it when he realized what he had done. He should not fall into the trap of believing Elizabeth was vulnerable. No matter how she appeared at this moment, he’d well experienced how this woman was able to look after her own interests.

  With that, Raynor moved away from her. “We will go into the hall. My lady wife is tired after our long journey, and would rest before she greets you each in turn. I hope you will take no offense at this and understand that I wish to keep her in good spirit.” The last was said with a lascivious wink that brought a laugh from the crowd.

  Elizabeth felt a deep blush steal over her cheeks as she glanced to Raynor and away. She’d had no idea he had a sense of humor of any kind, and now, suddenly, she found he did. And a bawdy one at that. The castle folk seemed not the least surprised by the remark, and she was reminded anew of how little she knew him.

  As she peered around at the smiling faces, Elizabeth wondered what they would think if they knew the truth of it.

  It was obvious to her that Raynor had done his utmost in presenting her at all. It would tax him beyond measure to keep up this charade for much longer. By saying he wished to conserve her strength, Raynor but sought an excuse to put his trial to an end.

  And the people seemed only slightly disappointed by Raynor’s pronouncement, as the reason he had given was one they could understand and sympathize with. To Elizabeth’s immense relief, they began to disperse.

  The hall was a long, wide chamber with a high, open-beamed ceiling. It encompassed the entire first floor of the three-story keep. A few of the castlefolk had followed them inside, but they went about their chores with only an occasional glance toward their lord and his new lady.

  As Raynor led his wife across the floor, an attractive and lushly rounded young woman came from the other end of the hall, leading a small child by the hand.

  She drew her up to Raynor and Elizabeth, then stood nervously before them. The fair-haired woman addressed only Raynor. “She wanted to go out into the courtyard, my lord, but I told her she mightn’t, for fear of her getting trampled by the horses.” To Elizabeth’s eyes, her smile was obviously ingratiating.

  When the woman glanced in Elizabeth’s direction, her blue eyes were filled with resentment. Apparently the servant had heard of Raynor’s marriage and was not pleased. Elizabeth looked away from the pretty woman with a mental shrug. She could not expect all to accept her with open arms. Understandably, it would take time to gain their true loyalty.

  For his part, Raynor seemed oblivious of his woman’s demeanor. “You did rightly, Hyla. She is far too reckless around the horses.”

  Turning to Elizabeth, Raynor cleared his throat. “My daughter, Willow.”

  Elizabeth looked at the child with rueful amazement.

  She was dressed as a peasant, in a garment of undetermined shape made of threadbare gray wool. Smudges of dirt obscured her tiny features, and Elizabeth could not tell if she was a pretty child or not. Her brown curls were a tangle of snarls and even held some strands of straw. “What is this?” Elizabeth asked the woman, reaching to extract a piece.

  “She’s been sleeping in the rushes, my lady,” the serving woman answered sullenly.

  “On the floor?” Elizabeth queried with a scowl. The baron’s daughter, sleeping in the rushes? It was appalling. Surely, she thought, Raynor will upbraid this Hyla for not looking after the child more fittingly.

  He did not. It was all too obvious that her husband did not see anything amiss in this.

  Elizabeth’s frown deepened, but she bit back the words of censure that sprang to her tongue. As a new arrival here, she felt it was not her place to criticize what had gone before her. What she was resolved to do, though, was make sure such did not happen in future.

  Now that she was lady of Warwicke, neglect of the child, even out of ignorance, would not be tolerated.

  Going down on her knees, Elizabeth held out her arms to the little one. Her expression changed to one of gentleness. “Good day, Willow.”

  The child stood staring at Elizabeth, her limpid brown eyes wide, her fingers worrying her full bottom lip.

  Elizabeth realized that the girl was terribly shy. She ran a hand over the tangled mass of curls. “I am Elizabeth, but you may call me Beth.” She smiled with gentle encouragement.

  Willow glanced to her father, and Raynor nodded.

  She looked at the floor. “Beth,” the child whispered, so softly that Elizabeth could barely hear her.

  “Well,” Raynor said, patting the little one on the head awkwardly. “I will leave you with Lady Elizabeth now. I have been gone for some time, and there is surely much that needs my attention.”

  Elizabeth’s lips thinned, and she stood to face him. “Raynor, is this your only greeting for your daughter?” Despite her fierce expression, she spoke evenly, keeping her voice low, so as not to frighten the girl.

  He stiffened at the censure implied in the words. “I have a bauble for her in my pack, but I must attend to some business before I can take the time to give it her.”

  Obviously he had no idea that his behavior was in the least bit odd, for he was looking at Elizabeth as if she had sprouted an extra head. No wonder the little girl was so shy with them, she thought. It looked as though Raynor had need of some lessons in being a father. Her own father had taken an active interest in her from her earliest memories, and she had loved him dearly.

  But now, on her first day at Warwicke, with a servant looking on, was not the proper time to mention this. Besides, Elizabeth knew when tact would best serve. This was for the child’s benefit, not for hers. Raynor must be made to see the proper way of treating his daughter, rather than be told.

  All she said to her husband was “How very kind of you. I'm sure Willow will be most grateful for your thoughtfulness.”

  She took Willow’s hand. “Come, dear, we shall get acquainted while your papa takes care of his business. I'm sure he'll have a big hug and a kiss for his girl later.”

  As she said the last words, Raynor’s eyes widened in surprise. Clearly he had not so much as thought of embracing the little girl.

  At Raynor’s startled look, she said, “I trust your women will show me to my chambers.”

  He watched her, eyes narrowed, as if considering her previous remarks carefully, even as he answered her. “Of course. I will tell them where to put your belongings.”

  Elizabeth stopped h
im with a haughty look. “I would not dream of keeping you, my lord. I can attend my own affairs. If you will just point me in the right direction, I will trouble you no further.”

  Elizabeth started off with purpose. Already she knew she could be of some use here, no matter that her husband did not want her. Despite what he believed to the contrary, he did, at least in this one area, have some need of her.

  For all that he seemed so sure of himself and all he ruled, Raynor had no notion of how to raise a child. But she meant for him to learn.

  * * *

  Wearily Raynor dismounted and handed his horse to a stable boy.

  Since their arrival at Warwicke the previous day, he’d barely had time for thought, let alone rest. Last eve he had been called upon to settle a dispute among the men in the barracks that had lasted long into the night. There had been no opportunity for him to see Willow again.