“My lady?” He offered his left arm to me.
I slipped my hand around his elbow for a secure hold. He pressed his arm against his side, gently squeezing my arm against his ribs.
The great hall had transformed in our hour above stairs. Trestle tables between backless benches marched the length leaving a great space in the center of the room. The table on the dais remained in the same position, but now a tablecloth covered it and evergreens decorated it. The lit candles did nothing to soften the clawed holders high above us, but they illumined the faces that turned our way.
“Tomas Nirren Dyrease, Earl of Irvaine and Wisenvale.” The crier’s voice overwhelmed even the rustle of cloth as everyone turned to stare. “His lady wife, Brielle of the house of Solarius and daughter of Evenetta of Marienedale.”
All eyes moved from Irvaine to me. I struggled to keep the veil of indifference over my features. My mother, before her marriage, gained renown for her beauty and grace. I took after my father. Strong features, solid build, and red hair. As proud as I was that Evenetta was my mother, I wanted to flinch at the comparison because I fell so short.
Irvaine led me down through the midst of the crowded hall. Try as I might, I couldn’t lift my eyes to meet the gazes of those we passed. They were not my people.
Then reality struck me so hard I stumbled. Irvaine paused long enough for me to catch my step. We continued our procession. I raised my head and looked into the faces of the people as we passed.
These were Irvaine’s people. They lay claim on him. He carried a duty to provide for them and protect them. Already, he worked to do just that. I, as his wife, also bore obligations to them. They were my responsibility now too. I tried to memorize features and read personalities in the faces turned our way.
Finally we reached the dais. Lord Rathenridge and a woman awaited us there. Lord Rathenridge greeted Irvaine with a bow and then turned to the woman behind him. “This is my wife, Moriah.”
Almost matching her husband in height, Moriah’s angular features softened into a warm smile as she dipped a curtsey.
Irvaine bowed to Moriah before drawing me forward. “My wife, Brielle.”
“Welcome to Kyrenton, Lady Irvaine. I hope you enjoy your time among us.” Moriah’s soft voice soothed the ear. Still, her words rubbed at the sore place I was trying to ignore. Irvaine was leaving me behind. My smile wobbled. I could not find the voice to answer.
“About time you two got here. Newlyweds will tend to run late, as we know well.” Rathenridge winked at his wife. “But I was preparing to send out a search party.”
Irvaine gestured to the empty table. “I don’t see the food, Aiden. We are hardly holding you up.”
“You are their lord and master now. They delayed until you appeared. Even now I see the page leaving for the kitchens to alert them all is ready.”
Irvaine ushered me to the seat at his right hand. To my surprise, Rathenridge and his wife took seats to my right, leaving the left side of the table empty.
A lad in green livery poured the wine.
“May we join you?” The query brought everyone’s attention to the left. Sir Landry loomed, a dark shadow in all black attire. With his beard and wild hair, his resemblance to a great bear grew hard to ignore. Rolendis Briaren appeared tiny as she lingered a few steps behind him.
“Of course.”
Irvaine and Rathenridge stood almost in unison.
Landry bowed. “I found the lady lingering in the passage to the kitchens. She tells me she fears she is not welcome here.”
Keeping her attention on the wooden platform beneath her feet, Rolendis said, “I am not certain of my place now that…” She looked up into Irvaine’s eyes.
Sitting, I could not judge the message she emoted at Irvaine. I could only read the infinitesimal tightening of his shoulders. He stepped back and rested a hand on the back of my chair.
“You are welcome at our table. As my wife promised your father, we will be certain you and your child are safe.”
“Thank you, my lord.” She dipped a deep curtsey, chest thrust outward and artful curls grazing the front of her low cut dress.
My sympathy for her precarious position warred with my anger at her obvious maneuvers toward my husband.
Irvaine retook his place, leaning over to claim my hand as he spoke to Rathenridge across me. Preoccupied with the strength of my reaction to Rolendis, I didn’t pay any attention to their words.
Landry assisted Rolendis into the seat to Irvaine’s left before taking the place on her other side. I observed the tightening of the fabric across her middle as she moved. The obvious swell of her abdomen supported her father’s claim of pregnancy.
Anxiety pressed against my breastbone. Duty demanded that I be with child soon as well. The people of my village would expect it. My duty to the residents of Kyrenton demanded it. Even Irvaine planned for it. Children were part of our vows. What if I took after my mother in the very area I didn’t wish to? My stomach twisted. I needed to tell Irvaine about the possibility. Kurios, please have mercy. Make me fruitful when the time comes.
When the time comes…it might be tonight. I closed my eyes. Flutters of anxiety gathered beneath my ribs.
“Are you well, my lady?” Rathenridge’s voice cut through my worries. I glanced at Irvaine to discover Rolendis had captured his attention, though not his hand. His fingers still covered mine on the table between us. I turned back to my other dinner companion.
“Yes, Sir Rathenridge, I am well.”
His blue eyes examined my face with more care than I wished at that moment. “If you fear the widow will steal your husband, you need not.”
“I know Irvaine will not stray.”
“Oh?” He raised his eyebrows in obviously mock surprise. “Then what has your lovely brow all in wrinkles?”
I struggled with an answer. I couldn’t tell him the truth, but I didn’t want to lie either. Lowering my gaze, I attempted to hide.
“Something you would rather not share. I understand. My wife tells me frequently that I am too curious for my own good. Wouldn’t you agree, Tomas?”
Irvaine leaned over so that his chin hovered above my shoulder. “Your tongue ought to be leashed, Aiden. What stories have you been telling my wife?”
“What did Rolendis want?” I asked before I lost my nerve.
“Nothing of any weight. She wished to speak with me tonight.”
“Alone?”
“That might have been her intent, but that is not mine. Rest assured if you aren’t there someone else will be.”
“That widow intends to snare you, Tomas.” Rathenridge lowered his voice. “I don’t know whether it was her or her father’s doing, but her wedding to Kolbent happened abruptly and without any pomp. One week she was just the steward’s daughter and the next she was Kolbent’s wife. Even his sons thought something was amiss.”
“Good to know.”
Irvaine stroked the inside of my wrist with his thumb. Awareness radiated up my arm. I glanced at Irvaine’s face, but his attention focused inward. He was apparently not aware of his hand’s actions or its effect on my senses.
“I will be extra vigilant.” He gazed into my eyes. Anyone watching us would think he was desperately in love with me. If only it were true.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered.
“When do you want the men assembled tomorrow?” Rathenridge asked. His facial expression lightened as though discussing war were less taxing than guarding against infidelity.
“Have them gather at dawn. We will march out as soon as we are properly assembled.”
“Moriah and I will be there.” Rathenridge smiled at me. “Moriah insists on seeing me off at the beginning of every campaign. What about you, Lady Irvaine? Are you going to rise early to wish your husband well as he rides into battle?”
I opened my mouth to protest that I would be riding by his side, but Irvaine spoke first.
“Of course she will.”
The par
ade of food began. Pages bearing meat and vegetables doused in sauces passed before us. Irvaine saw to it the most succulent morsels found their way onto my trencher. However, I found my appetite fled with the thought of being left behind.
Irvaine was my anchor in this new world. If he left, I would have to face it all alone. Despite my knowledge of how to sit at table and the basic social graces, I knew nothing of running a household of this size. Horacian would certainly not need my input on crop rotations, hunting, sustaining a herd, slaughtering pigs, plowing a field, maintaining records or keeping a village from starving.
Another course paraded past. More food appeared before me. I swallowed a few bites of mutton and a hunk of bread. Even those threatened to reappear.
“Is something wrong or did your mother tell you that ladies only eat sparingly at the table?” Irvaine’s voice edged my thoughts aside. He moved so close that his breath caressed my ear and the scents of soap and leather filled my nose.
“I have lost my appetite.”
He frowned. “You were hungry before we came down. What disrupted your interest in food?” His dark eyes studied my face with more care than I wished. Still, my parents taught me that honesty was always best, especially between friends.
“I don’t wish to stay behind. I belong by your side. I am useless to you here.”
He seemed to weigh my words. “I disagree.” He paused. “In part.” He played with the curl lying against my cheek. “You do belong with me, usually, but when I am riding off to war, you aren’t safe at my side. I need you here, safe and secure. I need someone to look out for my son when he arrives. Also, I need your eyes. I don’t trust Horacian or his daughter. They will be more likely to try something while my back is turned.”
“What could they try?”
“I don’t know. If we watch and wait, they will reveal their true colors eventually.”
I processed the new situation slowly. Irvaine and his men would ride out tomorrow morning. After meeting the remainder of his men, they would confront the joint forces of Orwin, a nameless foreign baron, and possibly Jorndar’s missing men. Meanwhile, I would have to adjust to my new role of faithful wife awaiting her husband’s return.
“And your son. You aren’t planning on him joining you either, are you?”
He shook his head. “When we encounter the caravan, I will be sending Darnay and Elise on to you.”
“Elise?”
“Quaren’s daughter.”
He expected me to protect two children as well as navigate the maze of my new duties as lady of the vargar. Panic clutched at my throat. I lifted a hand to rub against the pressure growing in my chest.
He reached back to claim his goblet and offer it to a passing servant. As the boy filled it, my mind raced with possibilities. Once the goblet returned to his hand, he sipped, but didn’t swallow. He set the cup on the table and turned back to me. As he eased in to study my features again, I met his clear-eyed scrutiny.
He smiled at my frown of concentration. “People want a lord who drinks. It is a sign of a man willing to relax.”
He brushed my hair back from my shoulder, fingering the curls a moment before releasing them. “I will not leave you alone, Brielle. Jarvin will remain. Kuylan and at least seven others cannot join us due to their injuries. Twelve able-bodied men claim injury as well, under my orders, and they will obey your commands. Six of Rathenridge’s men guard Jorndar. They will also be loyal to you. Landry appears honorable but he might be under the influence of Rolendis’ charm.” He glanced down the table. I followed his gaze. Rolendis leaned over Landry’s arm speaking earnestly, “His true allegiance will show soon enough.”
Guilt edged my conscience. Were we judging Horacian and his daughter unfairly? “What if Rolendis and her father are innocent?”
He stroked my cheek, sending shivers down my spine. I closed my eyes. I didn’t want him to see the yearnings his touch brought forth. I welcomed them and feared them. Until I understood the feelings better, I didn’t want to confess them to him.
“If our suspicions are wrong, then there is no harm done.” He kissed my temple. My cheeks burned. “Eat, love. You will need it. We have a full evening ahead and breakfast is a long way off.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter Twelve
After the fealty swearing ceremony, I wanted to sleep. The exhaustion of earlier pulled at my limbs, reminding me of the abuse of the past days. Yet, the troubadour continued to sing of a woman with flame-touched hair. The hero of the tale set off on a foolish quest to win her love by bringing her water from the fountain of youth. I held a small smile on my lips despite the vanity of the lady and the foolishness of her swain. Irvaine was wise enough to know that love cannot be bought with gifts.
“Your smile is slipping.” Irvaine’s hand closed over mine as it lay on the table. “Are you ready to retire?”
I nodded. “I am not accustomed to sleeping on the ground.”
“No ground for you tonight, my love. Tonight there will be a well-stuffed mattress, soft bedding, and me to keep you warm.”
I looked up in surprise to spot Rolendis walking behind him. She passed close enough to hear his words. Irvaine’s free hand brushed beneath my chin, setting my skin on fire as it tilted my face. His thumb grazed the corner of my mouth.
“I wanted to do this all evening.”
His mouth caught mine gently, exploring and savoring. My senses whirled. Catching his forearm, I tried to anchor myself to reality. Instead, the movement of his lips and the delicate pressure of his fingertips against my cheek pulled me into a world of his creating. I fell beneath their spell.
Only when he withdrew a hand’s breadth to study my face did reality gradually reassert itself.
“I should have tried that sooner.” His dark eyes studied my face, lingering on my mouth before returning to gaze deep into my eyes. That was when I realized the murmur of conversations around us had died down. I glanced out at the hall. The troubadour finally finished his song. Most of the crowd’s attention focused on us. I didn’t dare look Rolendis’ way.
With a scrape of wood against stone, Rathenridge rose to his feet and raised his goblet. “Hail Lord Irvaine and his lady, the beautiful Brielle of Wisenvale! May their marriage bring bounty and security!”
Irvaine smiled down at me. Over his shoulder, Rolendis avoided my gaze as she lowered her cup unsipped.
“Come, it is time we retired.” Irvaine rose and offered me a hand.
Amid calls of encouragement from men tipsy with too much wine, we descended from the dais and walked once again through their midst. I took comfort in the upturned faces that looked upon Irvaine with hope.
A vargar without a master meant uncertainty for the inhabitants. They would wish him to stay as long as he brought security, full bellies, and warm shelter. But would their hope fade when he left so soon after his arrival? Most of the men and women pressed around us didn’t know of the greater threat coming from the east. Suddenly their high expectations fell over my shoulders like a damp cloak, snuffing out the lingering embers of Irvaine’s public affections.
I shivered as we stepped into the corridor. Irvaine led me toward our chamber at a swift pace. We reached the top of the stair, and our door waited only a dozen steps beyond.
“My lord?” Rolendis’ voice echoed in the stairwell behind us. She paused in climbing the last turn of the steps. One hand on the wall for balance, one clutching her skirts to keep from tripping, she looked up at Irvaine with bright eyes and parted lips. The neck of her gown slipped over her shoulder, offering a hint at what was beneath the cloth. The torch light added a subtle glow to her bared skin. “You promised me an audience tonight.”
Despite Irvaine’s mildly distracted expression as he examined the mortar of the wall to her right, the arm beneath my hand tightened like a bow string.
“I did? What do you wish to say?” He turned partially away from her, maneuvering me between them.
“In private, my lord?
It is a personal matter.”
Irvaine covered my hand with his, pressing it in place. “There are only the three of us here. Surely my wife’s presence cannot be objectionable no matter how personal the matter. Now please speak or hold your tongue until my return. I have things to do before I sleep.”
Her surprise at his curt reply quickly melted into pretty tears. “I just wanted to ask for a special dispensation. My sleep has been restless of late. I have taken to walking the halls at night to try to wear myself out. The wise woman says I need to rest for the child’s sake.” She caressed her abdomen. “She gave me some herbs, but insisted they be taken before bed with mulled wine. My father denied my request for the additional wine. He directed me to you.”
“If that is all, then tell him to allow it. One extra ration of wine should be adequate, unless you require more to forget your husband?”
She had the sense to blush and tug her dress back into place. Still, anger flared in her eyes. “How dare you mock my grief? My husband has been in his grave barely two months. Why shouldn’t I lose sleep over how I shall survive without him? He was my future, our child’s future. Now my son shall grow up without his father, without a title, or land.” She sniffed and tossed her head, jabbing her sharp chin into the air in injured defiance. “Why do I even try explaining? No one understands. It isn’t like you have ever lost a spouse.”
Irvaine stiffened. “You have your additional wine. Good eve.”
Then without waiting for a response, he propelled me down the hall and through our chamber door.
He closed it solidly behind us. Leaning back against the wood, he closed his eyes and pressed the heels of his hands against them. The glow from the fire and a single lantern near the door cast his features into stark relief.
My anger at Rolendis’ obvious advances warred with my shock at Irvaine’s comment about her husband.
He groaned. “I owe her an apology. I went too far.” He pushed off from the door and launched himself into the center of the room. Casting off his belt and sword as he went, he paced toward the far wall.
Duty: a novel of Rhynan Page 8
