Though Oran appeared to be avoiding her, she still heard regularly of his actions. Almost daily she caught snippets of conversations among Madame Kerri’s daughters about the boys’ training activities. Patti commented on the fact Oran had grown respectful and courteous around the kitchen help after a quiet rebuke from Lord Tremain.
Often, youthful male voices rose in laughter as the young men passed to and from the great hall. From all accounts, Jayne’s brother seemed to be flourishing beneath the watchful eyes of his teachers.
Braxton even mentioned Oran’s name to her once. They passed in the hall, and he complimented her on raising a fine young man. Before she could reply, he continued on his way.
Remembering the sullen boy of their months in exile and the huge argument they had before returning to the vargar, Jayne was finding this new Oran hard to believe. However, since she was so busy caring for the girls, overseeing the household, and trying to make it through each day, she wasn’t able to seek her brother out until she found time to breathe.
Stepping out into the cool autumn afternoon, Jayne scanned the almost deserted courtyard. The blacksmith was pounding away on his anvil while his assistant worked at the open fire. A horse waited patiently nearby for the shoe, which was beneath the blows of the blacksmith’s hammer. Besides the armed men at the gate, the only other soul she could see sauntered across the yard with arms full of vegetables from the kitchen garden.
“What are you seeking, Lady Jayne?” She jumped at the sudden presence behind her. Turning, she found one of Lord Tremain’s men standing behind her. His gaze was one of kind concern. She took a moment to place his name. Jaren?
“I am looking for my brother.”
Jaren smiled warmly. “I believe Urith is out in the orchard. I saw him making off in that direction with a book under his arm. He said he was looking for a moment’s peace.”
Jayne smiled. She had shooed Urith out of the great hall earlier, admonishing him to enjoy the sunshine before the winter snows. “No, I was seeking Oran. Is he down in the fields with the harvesters?”
The man shook his head. “I believe Lord Tremain set him to practicing with the pell after lunch. There is to be a sparring match before dinner and Oran still has not mastered turning the blade to the lord’s satisfaction.”
“Then where can I find him?” she asked, scanning the yard again. She didn’t know where the pell might be.
“Behind the stables, m’ lady,” he said, gesturing in the correct direction.
“Thank you, sir, but I am not a lady.”
Jaren grinned at this. “Begging your pardon, but I take my orders from Lord Tremain and he says you are, thus you are. Good day, m’ lady.” He saluted her with an incline of his head and strode off toward the main gate.
Another thing I will have to speak to Liam... I mean Lord Tremain about. Then dismissing it from her mind, she made her way toward the stables at the back of the yard.
“Come on, Oran,” a young male voice called. “Are you going to let him beat you?”
Three other voices joined in, cheering for Oran to attack. As she rounded the corner, Oran lunged and Jayne glimpsed Braxton’s determined face right before Oran connected with his middle, shoulder first. The lesson had turned from sword fighting to wrestling, for neither of them were armed. This was all she absorbed before Braxton skillfully disengaged the teen’s grip on his middle and twisted so that Oran was suddenly helpless.
“Do you concede?” Braxton asked, without panting much.
“No,” Oran grunted. Then Oran contorted his body, taking advantage of his youth and agility, and squirmed out of the hold and scrambled back on hands and knees, putting distance between them. The boys watching cheered. He scrambled to his feet and resumed the fighting stance. “I shall not concede.”
As the boys chanted for him to attack again, Oran and Braxton circled each other.
“I doubt he will win against Braxton.” His voice sounded close, but she refused to look. She recognized Lord Tremain’s warm, even timber.
“Are you sure? Oran is young and spry.”
Tremain laughed, a pleasant sound in his throat. “Braxton is a champion wrestler. Even I am not foolish enough to challenge him. I doubt Oran will be up for sparring after he is done with the boy.”
Braxton forced Oran to the ground for the third time.
Jayne’s mind wasn’t on the wrestling match, however. She spent the time trying to figure out how to address the topic of titles. The girls, in the guileless way of the young, were referring to Lord Tremain by his given name every other phrase without thought to who heard them. Their habits caused Madame Kerri to raise her eyebrows at Jayne on more than one occasion. Knowing the girls, she would not be able to resolve the issue properly without Liam telling them that it was inappropriate. In addition, there was the issue of her own title. Being called Lady Jayne by Lord Tremain’s men was not good.
“Have you seen enough?” Liam asked from behind her.
“What do you mean?” she asked, looking up at him over her shoulder. Even in that brief glance it struck her how weary he appeared.
“Is Braxton training him well?”
“I wouldn’t know. Actually, I came looking for you. I have a problem I was hoping you could help me with.”
“What with?”
“I prefer to not discuss it here. Would you mind joining me in the study?”
Shaking her head, Jayne turned away as her brother attacked for the eighth or ninth time. “Lead the way, my lord.”
Liam glanced back at the fight before turning away. “Your brother seems determined to not be able to walk before dinner.”
“We all tend to be tenacious.”
“You are a bit stubborn, aren’t you?” he commented. She didn’t look at him, but she heard the smile in his voice.
Chapter Nine
Sitting behind the desk with a sigh, Liam studied Jayne. She eased herself into a chair before meeting his gaze.
“Do your ribs still hurt?” he asked.
“A little less each day,” she replied, lowering her gaze to her hands. The movement wasn’t smooth enough for him to miss the slight rise of color into her cheeks.
“I have noted that the household has resumed running at that level of peak efficiency you manage so well. Thank you for your efforts.”
The tips of her ears grew red. He knew that praise and attention made her uncomfortable, but he didn’t know how else to show her he appreciated her work. More often than not, he turned his attention to a detail of the household only to find she had seen to it before him.
“What was it you wish to seek my council on, my lord?” she asked, lifting a composed countenance. “I have duties to attend to.”
“I understand,” he replied. Leaning forward, he pushed the open logbook for the previous year across the desk. “According to your father’s logs, we will need to fill the storerooms to make it through this winter. However, it looks like the rains will start early this year. Because of the shortages in working hands we have only filled three quarters of the storerooms. I also did some calculations. With the extra men that I brought with me, we are going to need even more that the usual provisions to make it through the winter months.”
Jayne pulled the book into her lap. As she bent over, a lock of dark brown hair escaped her braid and fell forward into her face. Impatiently she tucked it back as she frowned over the page.
“We have been short in the past. Five years ago, an unseasonably dry spell killed half the crops. I do not recall what my father did to make up the shortage, but he did somehow. Have you consulted the previous years’ logbooks?”
Nodding, Liam gestured toward the tower of heavy books stacked on a nearby table. “I found that same year in the logs, but your father simply recorded a deposit of meat and grain from an unknown source. Do you know where he obtained it?”
She shook her head, eyes still on the page before her. “The only person in the area who might possibly have such a larg
e supply would be Klian, but he wouldn’t have helped father back then. They were on terrible terms until...” Her voice died away.
“No.” Lifting a stricken face, Jayne regarded him in horror. “That was the year they became friends. Lord Alain invited him to the harvest supper and introduced him as an ally.”
“So, Klian was most likely the benefactor. But what did he get in return?”
“Me?”
Liam frowned. “But Lord Alain didn’t show you the marriage contract until four years later.”
Jayne shook her head. “But he hinted at it and when I complained of Klian’s attentions, he told me to get used to it.” She closed her eyes. “Sold for half a winter’s food.”
“Regardless, that option is not open to us.” Liam sighed and leaned back in his chair. This was bad. Even if they hunted all winter he doubted that they would have enough meat to make up for that missing portion. Spending the winter running short on food was not the best way to begin one’s overseeing duties. Klian’s tactics were working more efficiently than the villain could have hoped.
“So, what are you going to do?” Jayne’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Pray that the weather holds while we devote all of our resources to harvesting. The food is sitting there in the fields. All we need to do is get it into storage before the first rains.”
“Petition the villagers,” she suggested. “The women can work and those that can’t work can watch the children and cook the meals for the working parties. Their lives are just as much on the line as ours. I am sure they will sacrifice now to eat this winter.”
“Do you think it is a workable solution?”
“Let me speak to the women and get back to you,” she offered. “Of course that means I will need an escort down to the village.”
He nodded. “I will be available right after evening meal.”
“With respect, my lord, I don’t think that your presence would be best.”
Liam lifted his head to protest, but before the words reached his lips, he found the logic of her statement. Nodding instead, he agreed. “I will send Braxton with you, if you are comfortable with him?”
She met his gaze before inclining her head. The solemnity of her expression deepened the worry lines on her face. “Aye, he will do well, thank you.”
“Good,” he said, reaching to close the log book. “You will inform me of their answer when you return?”
“Yes, my lord,” she replied. She took a deep breath. “My lord, there is a matter where need your help.” She avoided looking up and studied her clasped hands instead. “Ryana and Rowana have taken to referring to you by your given name, and the guards are addressing me as ‘Lady.’”
“Yes, I gave the girls permission to call me Liam, and I am delighted that they are doing so.”
“Sir,” Jayne’s voice wavered. Swallowing, she tried again. “I don’t think it is wise. My siblings referring to you by your given name isn’t respectful and encourages them to see you as an equal. They are young and impressionable. They will...”
“They will think that I am a friend.” Liam frowned across at her bent head. “Jayne, I am their friend. I am not going to hurt them. I don’t know what your father would have done, but I am not building them up just to crush their spirits. They are children and they should be nurtured, protected, and treated with firm kindness. I asked them to call me by my given name because I wanted to be more approachable, nothing else.”
With visible reluctance, she agreed. “But I still do not think you should be encouraging the use of a title for me. I have no claim to the title.”
“Jayne.” Liam stood up and approached her chair. “I have researched the issue. Your father never sent notice of your birth to Ana City, but he recorded it in his logs and the census register and in neither place did he note disowning you. You are a lady by right and title. I will not tell my men to cease addressing you with the respect they should. If I could, I would give you the vargar and lands that should be yours, but by law, since your birth was not known by the King of Anavrea, he was well within his rights in giving me the title and the lands.”
He knelt and took her hands in his. “I want to be a friend, Jayne. Someone you can trust.” She still refused to look up at him, sitting there with straight back and squared shoulders. Her resistance to the idea was tangible.
~~~~~~
The way Liam’s large hands seemed to engulf hers unsettled Jayne. She was regretting bringing up the title and the name references.
She now knew she could trust him to defend her from physical harm and the likes of Turtkin and Klian, but she wasn’t sure she was willing to trust him with the children. The boys needed him. They required a firm masculine hand to guide them now they were growing into their manhood. He provided something she couldn’t.
The girls, however, were another issue. They were young and sheltered, exactly how she had tried to keep them. Unlike her at their age, with years of pain and hard lessons, they couldn’t see the risks that Liam posed. They wouldn’t prepare their hearts and keep their distance, knowing that his love had boundaries.
True, he wasn’t her father, but he had limitations. His love and efforts would only last to a point. Just like her father’s steward, he would reach the point where duty and security conflicted with the affection of the child and he would leave. He would treat them as his own family for a time and then turn his back, not because he was cruel, but because he was human.
“Jayne?” Liam’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Talk to me Jayne. What are you thinking about so hard? Why do you have such a difficult time believing me?”
Jayne lifted her chin but avoided his eyes. She would lose her resolve if she met his gaze. His dark eyes were consistently kind, and even she had a hard time believing in the faults that she knew were there. “I am only being realistic.”
Suddenly he caught her chin and directed her face toward him. Surprise widened her eyes.
“No,” he replied. “I think you are clinging to your past regardless of what I tell you and show you. No matter how hard I try, you are determined to think ill of me.”
Jayne opened her mouth to protest, but a loud knocking on the study door interrupted her. Liam only had time to withdraw his hand before the door swung open.
“Sir.” The guard from the courtyard executed a taut salute. “There is a problem in the fields, my lord. Some ruffians are taunting the harvesters.”
Seeing her chance to escape Liam’s unsettling presence, Jayne curtsied. “My lord,” she said and walked toward the door. The guard’s man gave her a confused look as she passed, but made no move to stop her. She half expected Liam to call her back, but he didn’t. Gratefully, she slipped into the cool recesses of the vargar. After pausing briefly in the kitchens to procure a bucket of hot sudsy water and a scrub brush, she climbed the stairs to the third floor and approached the grimiest bedroom. She needed to think and her best thinking time was while scrubbing something.
~~~~~~
Braxton was waiting in the courtyard with a mount and three armed men.
“I doubt this is necessary, Braxton.”
Braxton frowned. “You are no longer just a soldier, my lord. Those ruffians are looking for trouble and you cannot give it to them on your own.”
Though he caught the significance of Braxton’s logic, Liam was still not comfortable riding down to the fields with an armed escort. “Are we sure that these men are not locals?”
“According to the work leader they have never been seen around these parts before. Besides, from the descriptions that the boy brought back, they don’t sound like they are from this area.”
Liam belted on his sword and mounted. However, when Braxton offered him a shield he refused it. “If I approach the problem armed to the teeth and looking like I am eager for a fight that is exactly what I will get. Besides that is what these men are looking for.”
Braxton opened his mouth to protest, but Liam ignored him. Turning the h
orse’s head toward the gate, he signaled his guard and trotted out into the open air. He knew he was only delaying an argument with Braxton. Somehow Liam was going to have to get it into the man’s thick head that every situation did not require force. But persuading Braxton of that was going to be just about as impossible as convincing the lovely Jayne that he wasn’t an enemy.
The threesome behind him fell into a hushed conversation leaving Liam to his thoughts, which was just as he wanted it. Jayne was becoming more of a slippery problem as the days passed. Klian had shown no sign of making a move beyond exchanging words. That didn’t worry Liam. In fact, he was grateful for the lull. It gave him time to work on Jayne’s trust. He didn’t delude himself into thinking that Klian wouldn’t act. In fact, Liam was sure the scoundrel would. The man’s pride demanded it. So, Braxton and Jaren were working on preparing for the inevitable next battle should it be an armed attack.
Meanwhile Liam worked the more difficult defensive problem. Jayne, with her stubborn inability to trust him and her independent spirit, was their weak flank. If Klian got to her without their knowing, Liam didn’t think she would bring it to his attention. It was his greatest fear that she wouldn’t tell him until too late or even worse never tell him at all.
All Klian needed to do was take one of her siblings or get into a position to threaten physical harm to any of them and Jayne would walk willingly into his trap. She had said as much. Liam’s chest tightened at the thought. He only knew of one sure way to prevent that from happening— lock her and the children away until he could resolve the problem. Doing so would destroy the little flickers of trust he glimpsed in her features only moments ago. It was a trade he wasn’t willing to make. Every fiber of his being rebelled at the thought.
The other alternative was to win her confidence, which proved more difficult than he had first thought. The pain in that slender woman was like an onion. With each layer he peeled back, a new, deeper agony appeared, like her being sold for food. The look of horror in her eyes ripped at his heart.
The Reward of Anavrea Page 8
