by Tanya Bird
‘We haven’t trusted one another in the past,’ Astin replied. ‘Why would we start now?’
Borin tutted. ‘Come, come. Let us all be civil.’
Cooper gave Astin a hard stare before leaving with the king.
When the men were out of earshot, Astin looked to his mother. ‘Where’s Presley?’
‘She’s in the north paddock with Rose.’ She never quite met his eyes anymore.
Clearing her throat, Lyndal said, ‘Shall we take a walk and find them? It would be a shame to come all this way and not see your sisters.’
‘It’s a bit of a walk. We’ll take the horses,’ he replied.
Lyndal lifted the skirt of her dress, revealing her boots. ‘Merchant feet. I can walk for miles with a pail of water in each hand.’
He loved the way her eyes shone with pride when she spoke of her roots.
‘I could fetch her,’ his mother offered.
He gestured for Lyndal to start moving. ‘We’ll walk.’
His mother took another step towards him. ‘Astin—’
‘It’s Fletcher. I’m on duty.’
Lari nodded and looked down at the ground. ‘Did Presley tell you she’s to be married?’
‘She did.’
Lari kneaded her apron between her fingers. ‘I made some horse bread, and we have butter. Why don’t you come in for some refreshments first?’
‘I don’t think Cooper would like that.’ Then he was walking away.
Lyndal hurried to catch up to him, holding her skirts off the ground as she attempted to match his pace. Registering her struggle, he slowed.
‘Want to talk about that very awkward exchange with your mother back there?’ she asked, looking over her shoulder.
‘Nothing to talk about.’
She watched him. ‘She’s not the first woman to marry the wrong man, you know. Are you really going to make her pay for that mistake for the rest of her life?’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about, so leave it alone.’
She sighed. ‘I can see she’s carrying a lot of guilt.’
‘And yet nothing changes.’
‘What would you have her do exactly?’ Lyndal said on a laugh. ‘The man is her husband. If he truly is a monster, he won’t take kindly to a change of heart.’
He met her eyes. ‘Speaking of family, what did your sisters have to say about your marriage choice?’
‘Oh, I think you can hazard a guess.’
‘Do you think showing them your lavender drawing might help?’
Her mouth fell open, eyes laughing. ‘I take offence to that, defender.’
‘As is your right, Lady Lyndal of Cardelle Manor.’
She shoved him playfully with little effect.
‘Didn’t I once hear you say you’re named after your grandmother?’ he asked.
‘So you were listening at dinner all those times I thought you were blocking out the sound of my voice. Your point being?’
The corners of his mouth lifted. ‘That makes you Lady Lyndal the second of Cardelle Manor.’
She laughed. ‘Actually, I would be Lady Lyndal the third. My grandmother’s grandmother was also named Lyndal.’
He chuckled lightly, the tension leaving his shoulders.
‘It’s really peaceful here,’ she said, looking around at the muddy fields. ‘I can almost picture the green paddocks before the rain arrived and stripped this place of its beauty.’
His eyes swept their surroundings. ‘It really was something back then.’
Lyndal was silent a moment. ‘Do you ever wonder how your life would have turned out if you’d stayed here?’
‘I would have been dragged off to the tower for murdering my stepfather, then hung on a wall.’
Lyndal winced. ‘It was that bad?’
‘It was that bad.’
A hand landed on his wrist, and he followed it all the way up to that pretty round face.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I know what it is to grow up without a father, but I can’t even fathom a terrible replacement.’ Her hand fell away. ‘I imagine your mother had no choice but to remarry. She had young children and could hardly be expected to run a farm this size by herself.’
His eyes went to the open gate up ahead. ‘She doesn’t need your excuses. She has enough of her own.’ He gestured for her to stop and looked around.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.
He pointed ahead. ‘That’s the paddock we keep the bull in.’
‘The one with the open gate?’
He nodded and continued walking. ‘Stay close.’
She took hold of his arm. ‘Is it a charging bull by any chance?’
His eyes went to where she was gripping him. ‘Not usually, but that’s a very bright shade of blue you’re wearing.’ He smiled to himself when her grip tightened.
Astin relaxed when he spotted his sisters with the bull up ahead, his expression turning to one of amusement as he took in the sight of Presley knee deep in a bog, resting against the bull’s rump. Rose was tugging on a rope attached to the bull’s halter. She stopped when she spotted them approaching, likely wondering who he was. It had been nearly two years since he had stepped foot on the farm.
‘Now you choose to visit?’ Presley said.
Astin stopped at the edge of the bog. ‘Good to see you too.’
‘It’s all right, Rose. It’s just your silly brother.’
His youngest sister’s expression changed from wary to curious. ‘Is that your wife?’
Lyndal immediately let go of Astin’s arm. ‘Fletcher remains blissfully unwed.’ She walked over to the girl and bent down, gently squeezing her bicep. ‘Just as I suspected. Much stronger than your brother.’
Rose giggled.
‘I’m Lyndal, by the way.’ She extended a hand, and Rose took hold of it.
‘He’s stuck really good this time.’
Lyndal turned to face the exhausted bull. ‘I see that.’
‘You going to help or what?’ Presley called to Astin.
‘I’m in uniform.’
She let out an exasperated breath. ‘We couldn’t have a defender muddying up his boots, now could we? Do they still regularly sweep the wall walks so you can stroll debris-free up there?’
Astin was about to reply but stopped when he spotted Lyndal unlacing her boots. ‘What are you doing?’
She tugged one off. ‘What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going to help.’
Presley’s eyebrows rose. ‘I like her.’
‘This is Lady Lyndal the third of Cardelle Manor,’ Astin said.
Presley flattened her palms on the bull’s rump. ‘Fancy.’
Lyndal threw the second boot at him. ‘Except I’ve never lived at Cardelle Manor.’
‘I’ve heard about you,’ Presley said, pushing. ‘You’re the merchant girl everyone’s been talking about. The only woman to capture the king’s short attention span.’
‘You’ll have to forgive my sister for speaking poorly of our king,’ Astin said.
Lyndal began unbuttoning her skirt. ‘Don’t worry. I have very selective hearing.’
‘Stop,’ Astin said. ‘If the king finds you standing in the mud with your clothes off, he won’t be pleased.’
Ignoring him, Lyndal stepped into the mud and sucked in a breath. ‘Goodness, it’s colder than I realised.’
Rose was watching Astin, waiting to see what he would do next. With a heavy sigh, he removed his boots and socks, rolled up his trousers, and followed them into the mud.
‘What do you weigh?’ Astin asked Lyndal over the top of the bull. ‘You’re probably the equivalent of two sacks of flour?’
‘That’s a very rude question to ask a lady.’
‘This bull weighs at least fifteen times that. I’m just doing the math.’
‘Ready?’ Presley asked.
Lyndal reached a hand around the bull, and Astin reluctantly took hold of it. ‘Speak up if anything doesn’t feel right.
I don’t want you injured.’
‘He dislocated my shoulder once,’ Presley said.
‘By accident.’
His sister leaned closer to Lyndal. ‘Defenders are notoriously violent.’
Lyndal smiled. ‘You are so much funnier than your brother.’
Astin shook his head and looked up at Rose. ‘Ready?’
The girl nodded.
‘One, two—’
‘Wait,’ Lyndal said. ‘Are we going on three or after three?’
He squinted across the bull at her. ‘On three.’
‘And we’re pushing forwards, not up?’ Lyndal asked, shoulder pressing into the bull’s rump.
‘Correct,’ Astin said. ‘We’re not trying to lift the fifteen-hundred-pound animal out of dense mud. We want him to walk himself out.’
Lyndal took a few breaths, readying herself. ‘All right. On three.’
Astin tried not to look at his grinning sister. ‘One, two, three.’
The bull groaned as they pushed. Eventually, the exhausted animal lifted one of his front legs and took a step towards the edge.
‘Good,’ Presley said, slumping against the bull. ‘Now we just need to do that over and over until he’s out.’
Lyndal reached for Astin’s hand once more. ‘Let’s not dilly-dally, then.’
The mud was knee deep, and her chemise had soaked up the layer of water sitting on top of the mud, making the fabric cling to her thighs. Astin tried very hard not to stare across the bull at her.
‘Are you still with us, brother?’ Presley asked, suppressing a knowing smile.
Heat crawled up his neck as he leaned into the bull again. ‘One, two, three.’
This time both of the bull’s back legs moved. The next time both front legs. Another back leg. Then finally, the bull was at the edge of the bog.
‘This is it,’ Presley said. ‘Once he feels that firm ground beneath him, he’ll go, so take the rope off now, Rose, and hop out of the way.’
Lyndal wiped the back of her hand over her sweaty brow, smearing mud over her face in the process.
‘What?’ she asked when she found him watching her.
‘Nothing. Let’s go. One last effort.’ He took hold of her hand again, enjoying the sensation of her clammy skin a little too much.
That would need to stop.
Presley counted them in this time. ‘One, two, three.’
They all gave one final mighty push, and the bull staggered up the muddy slope, falling to his knees before righting himself and trotting away with a defiant bellow.
Lyndal held on to her knees as she caught her breath. ‘Thank goodness. That’s all I had left.’
He had a clear view of her now, soaked from the waist down. He could not look away, even going as far as imagining the top half of her wet.
She straightened and brought a hand to her forehead, adding more mud. The hand fell away when she saw his face. ‘What’s the matter?’
Before he could think of a sensible response, Rose said, ‘Is that the king?’
Astin’s head snapped in the direction of approaching horses.
Shit.
The three of them scampered out of the mud, snatching up clothing and boots and wrestling them on as quickly as they could.
Borin looked between them as he pulled up his horse. ‘What on earth is going on here?’ His eyes settled on Lyndal, moving over her. ‘I know merchants love their mud, but this seems a bit much.’
Lyndal dropped her gaze.
‘Our bull was stuck, Your Majesty,’ Presley said. ‘Your companion was kind enough to help.’
The king was still staring at Lyndal. ‘Well, next time she better leave it to the farmers.’
‘It’s just a bit of mud, Your Grace,’ Lyndal said as she smoothed down her crinkled skirt.
‘You forget who you ride beside,’ the king shot back.
Astin’s fingers curled into fists. ‘My fault, not hers. I let her get in.’
The king looked at him. ‘While that is noble of you, your job is to guard her, not keep her clean. Escort her back to the castle.’ He swung his horse around. ‘Cannot have the farmers mistaking her for a pig.’
They watched him ride away. Then Presley gave Lyndal a sympathetic smile as she went to collect Rose.
‘Let’s get you cleaned up,’ she said, taking her sister’s hand.
Astin and Lyndal remained there, not looking at one another.
‘You did warn me,’ she finally said.
He exhaled, nodded, then began walking. ‘Let’s go.’
Chapter 20
The next day, Lyndal accepted the king’s offer to have dinner together in the privacy of his quarters. She listened to him talk about himself and his accomplishments for two hours while pushing the same piece of duck around her plate. It was never a good thing when your food reminded you of your family pet. She kept picturing Garlic roaming free around Wright House, despite objections from Harlan—which she suspected were for show.
‘My mother told me that what a woman puts in her mouth greatly impacts reproduction,’ the king said, pushing his empty plate away. ‘Good nutrition should be the priority of every woman of child-bearing age.’
Lyndal’s fork stilled. ‘Sorry. It’s an awful lot of food for two people.’
‘A merchant’s perspective.’ He picked up his cup and drank, red wine staining above his lip, where stubble should have been.
Lyndal glanced at the door, wishing Astin were inside the room instead of out in the corridor. They could have exchanged knowing looks.
‘You know, the birth rate in the merchant borough has dropped significantly,’ the king went on.
Lyndal closed her eyes and laid down her fork. ‘It’s not by choice, I assure you. Though after seeing all the new lambs and calves in the farming borough today, I feel quite hopeful. How long until they’ll make their way to the butchers?’
Borin swirled the liquid in his cup. ‘It is too early to talk numbers, and it is certainly not for you to worry about.’
There was little that came out of that man’s mouth that did not grate on her. That was about as far as her tolerance could stretch for one evening.
Looking down at her plate, she said, ‘I’m afraid I’m rather exhausted. Do you mind if I retire for the evening?’ She rose from her chair.
‘I thought you might visit me in my bedchamber this evening.’
‘What for?’ As soon as she asked the question, she realised she knew the answer. ‘Oh.’ Surely he was not expecting her to visit his bed before they were wed. ‘I might be half merchant, Your Grace, but I’m also half lady.’
His scratched his nose and straightened the cutlery on his plate. ‘I assumed you would be equally as curious about the extent of our compatibility.’
She did not know where to look. ‘Of course. It’s just that… our engagement is not even official yet. If we were to change our minds—’
‘Very well.’ He waved a hand in her direction. ‘Off you go.’
She could see she had wounded his pride. ‘It was an enjoyable dinner,’ she lied. ‘I hope we can do it again.’
He lifted his gaze to her. ‘Perhaps next time you will eat.’
Nausea rolled through her stomach in place of food. Curtsying, she headed for the door.
Astin turned to her when she stepped out into the corridor, eyes moving over her.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked as the door clicked shut behind her.
She closed the distance between them, then whispered, ‘Am I expected to lie with him before we’re wed?’
Astin pulled her away from the door, nodding at the defender on duty as they fled. He waited until they were out of earshot before saying, ‘You don’t have to do anything—yet.’
‘Yet?’ she asked.
His eyes went to her. ‘If you marry the king, you can be sure the entire kingdom will be waiting for an heir.’
She was silent a moment. ‘The offer threw me. I think I hurt his feeling
s.’
‘He’ll live.’
‘Perhaps I should have said yes, find out what I’m getting myself into.’
Astin tripped on his own foot, then looked accusingly at the floor behind him. His expression was eerily stern beneath the yellow glow of torches. ‘If you want to share his bed, that’s another matter.’
‘I don’t want to. It’s just that I can’t think of any examples in history where women have captured a king’s heart with clever ideas on how to help the poor.’
‘Lifting one’s skirts is a classic technique.’
They arrived outside her bedchamber, and she turned to face him. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘For what?’
‘For using you in place of sisters. I’ve no one else to talk to except Queen Fayre, but this particular topic might be somewhat awkward.’
He looked off down the corridor. ‘As opposed to this very comfortable conversation?’
She suppressed a smile. ‘If I do wed the king, then I’ll have my ladies-in-waiting to bother instead.’
‘Just be careful who you trust.’
Her eyebrows rose. ‘I wouldn’t select women I didn’t trust.’
‘You likely won’t select them at all. The women usually come from noble families in favour with the king. I wouldn’t count them as friends just yet.’
She had assumed she would have some say. ‘I had thought Eda would join me here, but that might be a stretch.’
‘Because she’s mute?’
‘Because she despises the king and walks around heavily armed at all times.’
Astin crossed his arms, studying her. ‘And with Blake desperate for a child, you’ll have no luck luring her away from Harlan.’
Lyndal blinked. ‘What did you say?’’
‘I’m certain your sister has mentioned the fact that she wants children.’
‘Yes, but you said desperate for it?’
Astin’s arms fell to his sides. ‘She was upset when I called past the house the other day. It’s only been a year. Her body’s still getting used to the idea of regular food.’
‘You shouldn’t be discussing my sister’s body.’ She was not angry at him but the fact that he knew something about Blake she did not. The separation was cruel. ‘Sorry.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s the kind of thing she would normally talk to me about.’
