“Not unless you can summon supplies from Ana City,” Liam replied. Ireic’s face darkened even more. “Even then, someone is going to have to pay for them and I have no funds.”
“The crown cannot afford to supply one of its lords in a time of peace. The council would protest, and I would be forced to agree. There are many more pressing projects that need funding.” Ireic flashed Liam a sardonic smile. “Responsibility is hard. I am sorry that your reward has developed into more of a curse.”
“Hardly,” Liam protested. “I am content with my lot here. These are good people. I am proud to throw my future in with them. Still, I hate to see them suffer because of my presence.”
“From what you have told me, they are suffering less because you are here. If you hadn’t come when you did, it is quite possible they would have starved this winter.” He motioned toward the parchment covered with figures. “As it is, they will at least live. Also, don’t forget Jayne.”
Liam lowered his head. He couldn’t forget Jayne, even if he wanted to. Against his bidding, his mind constantly returned to her. Her stricken blue eyes, marred by fear and distrust haunted his dreams. Her dark fall of hair, the stubborn tilt to her chin, her rare smile sparingly bestowed, all of them made his chest tighten in longing for her to allow him a chance.
“She has caught you, hasn’t she?” Liam looked up to find Ireic watching his face with contemplation. “You do know there is a way you can permanently protect her from Klian and end this futile war with him?”
Liam waved it away. “I know, but she has made it clear she doesn’t want to marry me.”
“Why? You are titled, she will never have to worry about Klian again, and she will be protected for the rest of her life.”
“It isn’t personal. Every man who entered her life either abused her or abandoned her. She isn’t willing to give any male, trusted or otherwise, the legal right to do with her as he wishes.”
“Then prove to her you are not like the others. You have something that the others don’t have, honor.”
As Liam thought it over, hope flickered briefly.
“How do you know that will make her trust me?” he asked, lifting his eyes to meet his king’s gaze.
Ireic simply smiled with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “It will work.”
Liam opened his mouth to ask why, but a knock on the door interrupted him. Instead, he rose to his feet and said, “Come.”
The door opened and Oran slipped into the room. Executing a perfect bow to the king and then to Liam, he asked, “May I speak to you, my lord?”
“Certainly,” Liam replied. He motioned for the boy to take a seat, but Oran declined.
“May I speak with you alone?”
“Whatever you say to me, the king may hear.”
Oran frowned, but nodded. Then after a careful swallow, he spoke. “I came to speak to you about my sister, sir. I am worried for her.” The boy avoided Liam’s gaze and played with the bottom edge of his tunic as he continued. “She has always taken care of us since we were very young, but things have changed. I am grown and I feel it is time I take care of her. The children and I have been talking, and we believe it is time for her to get married. Seeing as she doesn’t like most men, but she seems to trust you more than usual, we decided that I should come and ask you.”
Liam wasn’t sure whether to laugh or frown at the boy. Thankfully, Ireic spoke. “What do you wish to ask him, boy?”
Oran lifted his head to meet Liam’s gaze. “We would like you to court Jayne, sir.” Then without waiting for an answer, he continued. “You are fair and even handed. Your actions have shown you to be honorable. You have the means for providing for her. We believe she would be safe with you, my lord.”
Liam almost laughed at the word “safe” in the boy’s statement. Jayne made it clear she did not find him safe. No matter how he reassured her he would not hurt her, she still maintained a distance.
“By what right to you come to him like this?” Ireic asked. “Jayne is an adult and can speak her own mind and heart.”
“But she won’t, sire,” the boy protested. “Lord Tremain is the first man she appears to trust, but she would not encourage him, even if she wanted to. She thinks she has to take care of us first. But as her oldest brother, it is my responsibility to see she is taken care of.” Oran turned to address Liam. “That is what you and Braxton told me, isn’t it?”
“It isn’t quite what I meant at the time.” Sinking into a nearby chair, Liam looked up at the boy thoughtfully. As much as he wanted to promise Oran that he would court Jayne and sweep her off her feet, he couldn’t guarantee he could crack the hard defensive shell she still maintained. All he could promise was that he would try.
“I will try to do what is best for your sister, Oran, but I cannot promise she will marry me. She knows her own mind and might not be swayed.”
With great dignity, Oran nodded. “That is all I ask, my lord. May I return to my siblings and tell them of your acceptance?”
“As long as none of you mention it to Jayne, you can. If she knew about this, she would never trust us again.”
“Agreed,” Oran replied and extended his hand toward Liam. They shook on it.
As the door closed in the young man’s wake, Ireic laughed. “So that is the brother. No wonder you are having such difficulty with the sister.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” Liam lowered his head into his hands and planned his method of attack. This battle was completely unlike anything he had ever attempted before and the high stakes, Jayne’s heart, only made it worse. If he fouled this up, Jayne might be scarred for life.
Chapter Thirteen
The air hung heavy with moisture in the shadows of the kitchen garden. Jayne knelt on the damp earth, digging out the last of the turnips before the next rain. Scraping together as much as they could from the small plot, she and Patti strove to keep from touching the stores before necessary. The round, oddly shaped roots would be perfect to add to the stew that was on the menu for the next evening, and the brief respite from the rain offered the perfect time to gather them.
Only moments before, Patti had been called in to instruct her assistant on an aspect of preparing the next meal. Patti promised to send someone to aid Jayne’s efforts, but Jayne was doubting anyone would come.
“May I help?” Liam’s voice asked from above her head.
Despite her surprise at his offer, Jayne didn’t bother to look up from her efforts to remove a stubborn root from the ground. “Start on that end of the row,” she instructed, pointing to the far end. “I will keep working from this side and meet you halfway.”
Without a sound, Liam obeyed. He knelt and dug out the turnips.
Minutes passed and Jayne’s thoughts returned to Oran and her dilemma. He would be a man soon and take on more responsibilities, supporting himself and seeking to begin a life on his own. Many of his friends were apprentices looking forward to becoming craftsmen in a few years. When the time came, they would start their own families and raise children.
For months now, even before their father died, Jayne had been observing Oran. All around him, his friends showed signs of being interested in one or another of the village girls. Some had even declared their intentions and were openly courting their sweethearts. Oran, however, showed no interest in any of the fairer sex within the small community of the vargar and village.
“Where do you want these?” Liam asked. He towered over her. Sitting back on her heels, Jayne tilted up her head to meet his gaze. Damp crumbles of earth clung to his hands as he clutched the basket full of dirty turnips. His eyes smiled at her, causing a strange reaction in her stomach.
“Over by the kitchen door,” she answered before returning her attention to the safety of the plants before her.
Without lifting her head from her task, she listened to him cross to the doorway and then return. Before he could kneel again on the earth, she said, “Don’t you have work to do in the study? I am
sure I can go find someone else to help me here.”
“The king is using the study,” he replied. “Besides this is where I want to be.”
“On your knees in the mud digging out roots?” she asked.
“It’s gratifying.”
She straightened and stared at him. He knelt in the dirt among the plants with his head bent to his task. Strands of dark brown hair hung in his face. His large hands worked around the base of the plants and loosened the vegetables free of their nurturing bed. Nothing in the slope of his shoulders or the ease of his movements hinted at the fact that this was not his usual habitat.
“What is really going on?” she demanded.
Liam raised his head and met her gaze. His steady blue eyes regarded her calmly. “You needed help, so I am helping. Is there something wrong with me lending aid where it is needed? The turnips must come in before the rain or they will not be useable tomorrow.”
Jayne frowned at him, but returned to work. It wasn’t as though he was doing anything wrong. She lifted a clump of turnips and shook the dirt loose. Placing them in her basket she reached for the next.
Thunder rumbled a few moments later. Glancing down the row, Jayne realized that there was no longer a row there. Three plants were left and Liam’s fingers were already working their way under the farthest one. Jayne worked on the one closest to her. She turned to Liam to tell him she would get the last one when a fat drop of water landed on her wrist.
“Better move faster than that,” Liam observed. “I believe we are about to get soaked.” He pulled his bunch free and quickly shook the dirt out of it. Jayne glimpsed him reaching for the remaining plant as she struggled to loosen the last of the bulbs under her own. Finally, it let go and she scrambled to shake it free.
As she rose to her feet, her legs protested. After hours of sitting and kneeling on the ground, they did not want to stand. She swayed slightly, but a strong hand caught her arm, steadying her.
“Take it a little slower,” Liam advised as he released her arm. Jayne nodded in response. Leaning over, he stacked his basket on hers and then lifted both of their baskets before turning toward the kitchen door. Three drops of water hit Jayne. “Stay right there. I will be back to help you,” he called over his shoulder.
Jayne frowned after him. She wasn’t going to just stand there and not try to walk. Five more drops hit her head and one hit her nose as she took a careful step forward. The cold, moist dirt beneath her toes grew wetter with each step. Lifting her skirts so she wasn’t catching them on the plants, she hopped over a row of carrots.
“I told you to wait,” Liam said as he strode toward her between the rows of vegetables.
“I am perfectly capable of walking on my own two feet,” she protested.
Ignoring her, Liam caught her around the waist and lifted her into his arms. “Not when those feet are lacking shoes and Urith dropped stinging nettles all around the back steps.”
Jayne couldn’t find the breath to protest. His sudden nearness unsettled her in way she had never felt around anyone. Most men, when they touched her, caused an instantaneous nausea. Although her stomach was doing strange things in reaction to Liam’s arms around her, Jayne could not honestly call it nauseating.
Liam covered the short distance to the cover of the arch in a few strides, but the rain beat him there. The skies opened and dumped a torrential downpour on their heads. Once beneath the shelter of the doorway, Liam set her on her feet.
“So what is the reason for the bare feet, my lady?” he asked as he stepped back to an acceptable distance.
“I didn’t want to get my shoes muddy,” Jayne replied. She didn’t trust herself to look up into his face. The flutter in her stomach was growing worse, not better, with the lack of distance between them. Focusing instead on the baskets of turnips, she leaned over to lift the closest two. “Now if you will excuse me, I need to get these down to Patti.”
“Lead the way,” Liam replied. By the time she had balanced her burden, he waited with the three remaining stacked within his own grasp.
“I can get those in a second trip,” she protested.
“Nonsense.” He smiled. “I am going that direction. I can easily carry them and save you the trip.” He nudged the door open with a booted foot and jutted his chin toward the kitchens.
Unable to contain a sigh of exasperation, Jayne gave in and started down the corridor. At least once they reached the kitchens and delivered the turnips, he would have no further reason to help.
“So who makes your shoes when you need new ones?”
Glancing over her shoulder, she frowned. “Why do you ask, my lord?”
“I need a new pair of boots.”
She bumped the swinging kitchen door open with her hip. “We usually trace our feet and give the tracings to Corbin the shoemaker in town.
“Patti, where do you want the turnips?”
The kitchen was a mad house. Steam billowed from the open kettles and at least four assistants were clamoring for Patti’s attention. Pausing only to wave Jayne off toward the pantry, the cook bustled over to lecture the youngest of her helpers on how to cut the venison. In moments, Jayne and Liam had deposited their burdens inside the storage area behind the pantry and escaped out into the cool quiet of the hall.
“Thank you for your help, my lord.” Jayne curtsied and turned away with every intention of running for the stairs.
“Wait, Jayne.”
Reluctantly turning to face him again, she looked up into his face. “Yes, my lord?” His expression was unreadable in the dark shadows of the corridor, but his body language was calm and relaxed. Apprehension crawled up her back and wound itself around her neck. She needed to get away from him. He was disrupting her thoughts.
“There are some things I need to discuss with you about the children. I know you are busy, but could you meet with me in the study this evening after dinner?”
She nodded and then turned away. With great relief, she noted that Liam did not follow her.
~~~~~~
Jayne needed to think. Something was going on inside her and she wanted to sort it out before meeting up with Liam again. Turning by instinct to her usual outlet and thinking activity, she gathered her scrubbing supplies. With all the extra traffic, the upper corridor would need a washing.
“Jayne.” Ryana announced her arrival by skidding around the corner and plowing into Jayne.
“Watch where you are going, Ryana. If this bucket had been full we would have had a mess.”
“Sorry,” the girl replied, looking apologetic between gasps for breath. “Larissa sent me.”
“Larissa?” Jayne asked as she set the heavy wooden pail beneath the pump. Reaching for the soap, she glanced over her shoulder at her little sister.
“The queen’s handmaiden,” Ryana explained. “The queen is having trouble with leg cramps and I told Larissa that you had a cream that could help. She sent me to get it, but I am not supposed to open your remedy chest.”
“And so you ran all the way down here to ask me?”
“Also, the queen wants to speak to you.” Ryana’s dark eyes met Jayne’s frown. “She said something about questions regarding the birthing. Larissa said that mentioning it in front of me wasn’t wise, because I was too young to know of such things, but I told her the truth.”
Jayne sighed. The scrubbing was going to have to wait. Dropping the soap back into its bin, she lifted the bucket back onto its hook. “What truth was that?” she asked Ryana as she hung up the brush.
“I have helped you with a birth, and I know all about babies and birthing.” Ryana straightened her shoulders and tried to look dignified.
“That doesn’t exactly make you an expert,” Jayne observed as she led the way toward their bedroom. “For instance, you don’t know which creams do what in my medicine chest.”
“Yes, but I know where babies come from and that is what they were talking about.”
Entering the room she shared with her sisters,
Jayne almost tripped over Trina’s blocks, which were scattered across the floor. Moving them aside with her bare feet, she crossed to the medicine chest at the foot of her bed. It was a heavy oak trunk with wrought iron hinges and had once been her mother’s. She knelt before it while lifting the key from its place on a chain around her neck.
“Would you clean those up?” she asked Ryana.
“But I didn’t make the mess.”
Turning to pin the child with a reproachful look, Jayne frowned. “Did I ask you if you had made the mess?”
“No.”
“I thought so. Now please straighten them while I get the cream.”
Once she was sure Ryana was engrossed in her task, Jayne slipped the key into the lock. The lid rose on well-oiled hinges. In a matter of moments, Jayne located the jar full of cream and replaced the lid. The chest contained her most cherished keepsakes from each of the children’s mothers. Someday when they married and left her to start families of their own she planned on giving each a treasure that was their mother’s. Until then, she kept them hidden away.
“Ready?” Jayne asked as she gained her feet once more.
Ryana straightened from arranging the blocks in their box, and they set off in the corridor again, this time toward the royal suite. They arrived at the door out of breath. Jayne smoothed her skirts and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before turning to inspect Ryana. The child’s braid was coming loose, but otherwise she looked presentable. Jayne made quick work of undoing and braiding the child’s hair.
“She can’t see me,” Ryana protested as Jayne ordered her to stand still.
“I don’t care. She is our queen and we should show respect whether or not she can see it. There, now look at me.”
Ryana lifted her face for inspection. Jayne nodded her approval over its cleanness and turned to knock on the door. The summons to enter was quick in coming, and Jayne eased the door open.
The Reward of Anavrea Page 12
