The Overlord's Bride

by Margaret Moore

  Elizabeth nodded, and softly answered, “Oh, yes. I pity the Irish.”

  The Reverend Mother’s mouth worked like a fish out of water for a moment, then she turned and all but ran from the hall.

  Elizabeth sank back into the chair.

  “Are you all right?” Raymond asked.

  “I feel as if I have bearded a lion.” She smiled up at him standing beside her. “Thank you for helping me.”

  “There is no need to thank me,” he replied with a proud and loving smile. “You had her beaten long ago.”

  A week later, Raymond found Aiken waiting for him in the stable when he returned from leading a patrol of the perimeter of his estate. The man smiled, but his fidgeting feet told Raymond that something was troubling him.

  He hoped Aiken wasn’t going to ask for more money for repairs. They were stretched to the limit as it was.

  “My lord,” Aiken began after Raymond had dismounted and turned Castor over to one of the grooms to be brushed and bedded down. “Yes?”

  “I, um, I need to speak with you.”

  “So I assumed.”

  “Outside, if you please, my lord,” Aiken said, nodding at the door.

  Cadmus lumbering beside them, Raymond went with him, and Aiken led him to the chapel, empty at this hour of the day save for the lingering scent of incense. “Well?” Raymond asked as Aiken looked about cautiously and Cadmus flopped down at his feet.

  “Well, my lord, it’s like this,” Aiken began nervously. “I, um, I wanted a little sport the other night, and since the women in the village all gossip like fishwives, I decided to go farther afield, if you follow me, my lord.”

  “I don’t see what your sport has to do with me.”

  “Normally, nothing, my lord, of course,” Aiken replied, giving another nervous glance at the closed door. “I mean, a man’s allowed a little relaxation, and if it costs him, it costs him. But no obligations, neither, eh?”

  “Did you bring me here to discuss the merits of patronizing a whore?” Raymond inquired. He would have been amused, except that Aiken was clearly upset.

  “No! No, my lord,” Aiken cried. He cleared his throat and began in a more businesslike manner. “I went to the village near Montross’s castle. There’s a particular place there, my lord. The girls are clean and the pander honest.”

  “I know the place.”

  “Oh, yes, I forgot. Well, there’s this one girl there, Nell. Very pretty and very…talented. Seems she’s Fane Montross’s favorite—or at least she was until a fortnight ago.”

  “What does this have to do with me?”

  “She was right upset and after she’d had plenty of ale, she told me why. Seems he’s gone to London to meet the earl of Chesney.”

  Raymond uttered a curse. He should have expected something like this. Of course Montross would try to get to the earl before he arrived here, to bend his ear with his malicious lies.

  Raymond had feared love would weaken him. It had definitely distracted him. “She was certain?”

  “Very. Right angry with him, she was.”

  “I see. I appreciate your telling me this, Aiken.”

  “My lord?”

  “Yes?”

  “There’s more.”

  Raymond frowned.

  “There was some pretty tough-looking fellows there, too, so I asked her who they were. Mercenaries, she said. Seems word’s gone out that Montross is hiring.”

  Again, Raymond muttered a curse. “How many?”

  “About ten so far.”

  “What reason does Montross give?”

  “The usual—looking for men to protect his estate.”

  “From what?”

  “From you.”

  “That base, disgusting liar,” Raymond growled, his hands curling into fists. “I don’t want his land.”

  Aiken backed away. “I know that, my lord. And so does anybody who knows you.”

  Raymond took a deep breath. “I hope the earl knows the truth,” he said. “I do appreciate the warning, Aiken.”

  The man nodded. “Yes, well, I thought you ought to know before the earl comes,” he said. “Now I’ll see about them timbers for the footings.”

  Looking relieved, he quickly departed.

  “If the earl comes,” Raymond muttered as the chapel door banged closed. Who could say what poison Montross was spewing?

  And after all Elizabeth’s work…

  He would not upset her unnecessarily, for it could well be that the earl would come as he had promised. As Charles had so eagerly pointed out, he was now allied to some powerful men and despite what Montross said, the earl might not want to risk offending them, even if he had no such concern for the couple who had invited him.

  Still, she didn’t need the dread that the earl might not come, or worse. It might cause her to lose sleep and become ill.

  These days, as she grew larger with their unborn child, he was haunted by the dread that she would die in childbirth as his mother had. Not even her assurances that she felt perfectly well and healthy, or those of the village midwife, could take away his fear completely.

  If she died, a part of him would die, too.

  Although he had believed himself in love, Allicia’s death had struck a blow to his pride and security more than his heart; Elizabeth’s death would tear his heart in two.

  Raymond left the chapel and, accompanied by Cadmus, strode across the courtyard and through the hall. He paused a moment to ask Rual, who was sprinkling herbs on the rushes on the floor, where his wife was.

  “The solar, my lord,” the always grim maidservant answered.

  He nodded, then commanded Cadmus to stay before he continued on his way. Although she was getting used to him, Cadmus still made Elizabeth nervous.

  When he reached the solar, he paused a moment on the threshold. Elizabeth was too absorbed in reading the parchment in her hand to hear him approach.

  It looked like a letter.

  Who would write to his wife?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Elizabeth looked up and gave him a beautiful smile. Holding onto the arm of the chair to steady herself, she rose. “All was well?”

  “We saw nothing amiss,” he answered truthfully.

  “I have received a letter from Genevieve.”

  He came farther inside the solar. “Your cousin?”

  “Yes, the woman you were supposed to marry. I wrote to her a little while ago.”

  “You said nothing to me.”

  A wrinkle of consternation appeared between her brows. “I should have asked permission?”

  “No,” he replied, and reminding himself that he didn’t want to alarm her, he sat in the chair and planted a kiss on her cheek as he pulled her down onto his lap. “I am surprised you would want to correspond with her, considering the circumstances.”

  “Perhaps I wrote to thank her,” Elizabeth said with a delightful hint of mischief in her eyes.

  It was no wonder all thoughts of Montross and his machinations fled when he was with her, he reflected. “Is that really why?”

  “Not precisely. I did assure her that I was happy, and I hoped she was, too.”

  “Is she?”

  “Very much so, and she was most relieved to hear from me. Indeed, I think she was afraid I had been condemned to a horrible fate.”

  “Unflattering words, my love.”

  “Well, she never met you, did she?”

  “No.”

  “Then she had only my uncle’s description to go by, and he is not the man you want describing your person to anyone.”

  “So I shall blame him for your cousin’s desperate act to avoid marrying me.”

  “But it has all turned out well, has it not?”

  “Very well,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck.

  “That is not the only reason I wrote to her,” Elizabeth continued with a sigh of pleasure. “I wanted to ask her about the earl’s sister.”

  Raymond pulled back. “The earl’s sister?”


  “Yes,” Elizabeth replied with an eager nod. “I thought the earl of Chesney’s sister, Maude, arrived the day before I left Lady Katherine’s, and Genevieve tells me I am right. She remembers her very well. She also remembers that Maude and her brother were quite close, and when she later died, he was very distraught.”

  “You aren’t planning to speak of his sister to him?”

  “Of course I shall! She was a sweet girl and very well liked by all at Lady Katherine’s, including Lady Katherine herself—no small accomplishment, I assure you.”

  “Lady Katherine liked you, did she not?”

  His wife reflected a moment. “Do you know, I believe she did. She was not given to demonstrations of feeling, rather like someone else I respect and admire,” she noted, giving him a pointed yet affectionate look. “I recall that once, I told some girls to stop teasing a younger girl, and after that, there was always a sort of…I don’t know…camaraderie in her eyes when she looked at me, as if we were friends.”

  “I think you bewitch people,” he replied gravely. “You bewitched me.”

  “I didn’t do anything of the kind,” she retorted pertly. “I didn’t even try to make you like me.”

  He grinned. “In that, you failed miserably.”

  She toyed with the neck of his tunic. “Did I?”

  “Yes.” He wondered if she was going to slip her hand inside.

  Aroused by that thought, he had to shift her a bit for comfort.

  “I am going to do my very best to make the earl like me, too.”

  His brow lowered with mock anger. “Are you trying to make me jealous again?” he growled.

  “No,” she replied with a laugh that showed just how seriously she took his bogus accusation. “I am going to make the earl happy and comfortable, so that he thinks of us with favor.”

  “If there is anybody who can do that,” Raymond replied, “it is you.”

  She did slip her hand inside his tunic, moving it slowly down to his collarbone. “Genevieve says she is very happily wed. I don’t see how she can be.”

  “Why not?” he murmured as he closed his eyes and gave himself over to the pleasure of her touch.

  “Because she doesn’t have you for a husband. Poor dear. She has no idea of the opportunity she threw away.”

  “You could give Montross lessons in flattery.”

  She swiftly withdrew her hand. He opened his eyes and saw the worried look on her face, then silently cursed himself for bringing his enemy into the conversation.

  “Has he sent a response to the invitation?” she asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “I wonder if he won’t bother replying and just come on the day of the feast.”

  Pleased that she wouldn’t be caught completely off-guard by Montross’s arrival if he did come with the earl, Raymond wrapped his arms around her swollen waist. “That would not surprise me. He may think to show us he is still a good friend of the earl’s and does not fear me.”

  “Then we shall not be surprised, but prepared.”

  “You have done so much preparing, surely there is nothing that could go amiss,” he said.

  She gravely shook her head. “I’m sure there will be. I can only hope not too many things go wrong, and that the earl arrives tomorrow as he should.”

  “The weather is fine, the roads are good, and the bridges along the way repaired.” He pulled her close and kissed her lightly. “You and your plans are very impressive.”

  She sighed as he continued to kiss her on her cheek, and then her neck. “My lord, it is nearly time for…”

  “For…?”

  “Something. I think…it must be…”

  “Not important,” he murmured as he moved his hands slowly up her arms and to her shoulders. One hand slipped around her back and the other fondled her breast, then encountered the rise of her belly.

  He hesitated, thinking that what he so very much wanted to do might hurt her. “Shall I stop?”

  “No, my darling,” she sighed, arching back to expose her slender throat. “The midwife says not yet.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “You are not the only one who would want to know, Raymond,” she chided. “I asked her only yesterday.”

  Relieved and delighted, he chuckled softly.

  And continued.

  The next morning, Raymond stood on the steps of his great hall, his wife beside him. The sentry at the tower had sighted the earl’s party approaching and they waited to welcome him.

  He glanced down at Elizabeth, whose hands were clasped beneath her belly. She seemed the very picture of calm unless one knew her as he did. He could see the subtle tension in her shoulders.

  He was glad she had already anticipated some skullduggery on Montross’s part.

  “Wait inside,” he suggested, “where you can sit.”

  “No, I should be here beside you when he comes.”

  “You are with child.”

  “That doesn’t mean I cannot stand.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “If I do feel faint, I will not hesitate to tell you.”

  “Promise?”

  She gave him a look. “I give you my solemn vow, my lord.”

  “Don’t be angry.”

  “I’m not. I am nervous.”

  “You sound angry.”

  “If I do, it is because of your constant chatter!”

  He gave her an incredulous look. He had never in his life been chastised for chattering, and certainly never after the injury to his throat.

  “I’m sorry, Raymond,” she said contritely.

  “The midwife told me you might be moody.”

  “When did you last speak to her?”

  “Yesterday, after…” He gave her a significant look.

  “I told you she said it would be all right. Didn’t you trust me?”

  He felt the heat creeping into his face. “I had other things to ask.”

  “Such as?”

  “I will not speak of them here,” he muttered, surveying the courtyard and his soldiers arranged up there. Servants bustled to and fro finishing the final preparations, and those who had completed their tasks likewise waited, whispering among themselves so the sound of their murmuring made it like being near the sea.

  “You might as well. We have nothing else to do until they arrive, and unless you start shouting, nobody will hear.”

  “It is a private matter.”

  “I am your wife.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “Shall I pout? Will that encourage you to tell me?”

  “Stick your lip out like that, and I am liable to kiss you.”

  “So kiss me.”

  “We are not alone.”

  “If you aren’t going to kiss me, tell me what you spoke of to the midwife.”

  “You are not going to stop pestering me until I do, are you?”

  “No.”

  He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “I wanted to know exactly how long before we had to stop making love.”

  She drew back, not a bit nonplussed. “I thought as much,” she said with a triumphant little grin that made him want to sweep her up into his arms and carry her into their bedchamber at once, earl or no earl.

  Then they heard the hoofbeats on the road approaching the gatehouse. Elizabeth slipped her hand into his, and he squeezed it.

  His lovely wife had nothing to fear from the earl. She had worked and planned for this visit for five months, and done everything she could to see that the earl and his party would be comfortable at Donhallow. Not only that, she was pretty and spirited, two qualities that would win over the most recalcitrant man. After all, had she not completely captivated him?

  If there was anything to fear, it was, as always, Fane Montross.

  Once again Raymond silently cursed himself for not being more diligent. He had feared love would weaken him, and so it had—but not mortally so, he hoped. It all depended on what Montross told the earl, what his overlord believed, and what
his overlord thought upon this visit.

  Unfortunately, Raymond discovered that he had been right to worry about Montross’s journey to London when the earl rode though the gate, Montross at his side.

  Elizabeth gasped, and he squeezed her hand again for reassurance, telling himself that even this need not signal trouble. After all, as Charles had said, he was now allied with some of the most powerful men in Britain, and the earl would know that. The scales had tipped, and it would take a great deal of effort on Montross’s part to tip them back.

  Still, the man was no doubt trying to do just that.

  As the cortege drew to a halt, Elizabeth nodded at Montross and whispered, “Did you know Montross would arrive with the earl?”

  “Not for certain.”

  She regarded him shrewdly. “You are not surprised, so you expected him to be with the earl.”

  “We will discuss this later.”

  “We certainly will, my lord,” she murmured as they went down the steps to greet the earl of Chesney. He had dismounted, and his stocky body twisted and turned as he surveyed Donhallow Castle.

  Raymond kept his gaze on Montross, who was staring at his wife as a wolf might eye a lamb alone.

  He could kill Montross for that look alone.

  “My lord,” Raymond said as he drew near the earl and bowed.

  The earl, his plump face scarred by smallpox, returned his smile. “Lord Kirkheathe.”

  “Allow me to present my wife, Elizabeth,” Raymond continued proudly as she curtsied.

  The earl addressed Montross, who stood nearby. “As you said, she is a beauty.”

  A shaft of possessive jealousy struck Raymond. How dare Montross describe his wife? And why had he sung her praises?

  “Whatever beauty I have comes from my happiness, my lord,” Elizabeth said to the earl, drawing his attention back to them. “And perhaps because I am with child. They say expecting a baby makes women glow.”

  The earl chuckled. “Aye, so they do. I can vouch for that. My own dear wife never looked better than when she was with child.” He glanced back at his lady, a middle-aged woman of average height and no beauty whatsoever.

  “Please, won’t you and your party come into the hall? We have refreshments prepared,” Elizabeth said. She turned toward Montross. “Sir Fane, too, of course.”