She feared that this was but a game to him and she was naught but a pawn.
A pawn who had to conceive his son with all haste.
Perhaps that explained Quinn’s charm. He knew what had to be done, and he but waited for her to make the invitation. Perhaps he meant to soften the blow to her pride. Melissande no longer knew what to think.
It was after the evening meal that Gaultier came to her. He bowed low and Quinn watched him, his eyes narrowed slightly. Indeed, there was a crackle of animosity between the pair. It was only in noting Gaultier’s obvious displeasure that Melissande wondered at his own objectives at Annossy. It was true that Gaultier was tall and straight, a fine figure of a man and a knight often watched by the maidens of Annossy. His hair was so dark as to be almost black and his eyes were a striking hue of green. She knew he was a younger son with no hope of inheritance himself and she had been glad when Tulley had sent a man of such abilities to her gates the year before. Gaultier flicked a glance at Quinn that was markedly hostile and Melissande wondered again if there was a root to their seemingly immediate dislike.
“My lady, I would confer with you,” Gaultier said.
“Surely whatever you would confide in my wife can be told before me, as well,” Quinn said, a thread of steel in his voice. He reached out and took Melissande’s hand, and Gaultier watched the gesture, his expression impassive. His eyes darkened, though.
“Before her departure, my lady granted me an assignment,” Gaultier said, keeping his tone formal. “Since it was the lady’s task, I would tell her of the result.”
“And what task was that?” Quinn asked Melissande. Truly, the Captain of the Guard had an insulting manner, and she believed that Quinn was striving to be fair. Gaultier should not have tried to urge her away from Quinn’s side to confer, after Quinn had bidden him to speak.
She was wed. She was chattel.
“There was a raid at the mill,” Melissande told Quinn. “We heard of it in the morning and I intended to ride there to confer with the miller as to the damage, but Tulley’s messenger arrived before I could do so. He insisted that I must ride with haste to Tulley, so Gaultier went to the mill, at my dictate.”
“A raid?” Quinn asked and she saw Bayard glance over. The other knight’s attention was avid and his charm dismissed. “By these same villains who harry Annossy’s borders?”
“I believe so,” Melissande said.
“And what did you discover?” Quinn asked Gaultier.
“I would speak with the lady,” Gaultier said, his tone stubborn. “She granted me the task and the tidings are due to her.”
The two men glared at each other, but Melissande spoke with quiet resolve. She knew her duty, even if she disliked the truth of it. “Gaultier, you have pledged your fealty to Quinn de Sayerne, Lord d’Annossy, and this report is thus owed to him.” It was her responsibility to ensure that her lord husband was not insulted and she hoped she managed the feat well. She had never been much of a diplomat.
Quinn’s features might have been set to stone, and she feared she had not been sufficiently fulsome.
“Sayerne?” Gaultier echoed and Melissande realized what she had said. “You hail from Sayerne?” he asked Quinn, his opinion of that more than clear. His voice rose slightly and the name of Quinn’s home estate began to be repeated in the hall. The villeins and servants stared at their new lord in surprise.
“My father was Jerome de Sayerne, it is true,” Quinn said, not flinching from the truth. He stood to address them all, his voice ringing over the company. “He and I parted ways twenty years ago, for we argued, and Lord de Tulley took me under his protection. I was only a boy, but Tulley sponsored me that I might train for my spurs. He found me employ to ensure that I gained experience at war, then suggested I take the cross when the pope called for the crusade. He sent word to me a year ago in Palestine, summoning me home, for my father had died. I had thought to rebuild Sayerne, but Lord de Tulley, in his generosity, granted me a bride instead.” Quinn took Melissande’s hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing the back of it as he smiled down at her. His smile was tight and she knew he was not pleased by the timing of her revelation, though she had not intended either to hide his lineage or suddenly reveal it.
“And Annossy,” Gaultier said, his tone silky.
“And Annossy,” Quinn agreed, their gazes locking again.
“What splendid good fortune for you,” Gaultier continued, and it was clear he thought otherwise.
Quinn took his seat beside Melissande again, her hand securely captive in the breadth of his own. “And what did you discover while the lady was at Tulley?”
Gaultier’s gaze flicked to Melissande, his dissatisfaction clear, then to her hand within Quinn’s. She smiled with a serenity she did not feel, for she could not fathom Quinn’s thoughts. He seemed harder and more resolute in this discussion, more a man of war, and her fears of his intentions were renewed.
She would be alone with him again this night, and his comrades filled the hall. How curious and troubling it was to consider that she would be outnumbered in her own abode.
“I have asked you a question, sir,” Quinn said softly and color rose on Gaultier’s neck.
The Captain of the Guard faced Melissande, making his true loyalty clear. “There was a theft, my lady. The miller and his wife were unharmed but frightened, and their coin was taken. The villains crossed the river at the ford, just below the mill, for I found the tracks from their horses there.”
“They ride horses?” Quinn asked. “Where would they stable their steeds?”
“If I knew that, sir, I should know where to apprehend them,” Gaultier snapped.
“You might be able to see their haven from the mill,” Quinn replied.
Gaultier straightened and Melissande raised a hand to silence him. She turned to Quinn. “The mill, sir, is not on the river Helva, but on a mountain stream that flows into it. We did not pass close to the mill on this day, but on the other side of that stream, the forest is dense. I would wager that in twenty paces, the sight of a horse would be lost in the undergrowth.”
“Thank you, my lady,” Quinn said, his voice a low rumble of approval. His eyes glowed as he smiled at her. “I appreciate your summary of the site and its traits, and will ride there on the morrow to see it myself.”
“But Gaultier has done as much already...”
“I would meet the miller myself, as well as hear his testimony,” Quinn said, interrupting her smoothly. He granted Gaultier a look. “Do you have more detail to share?”
“No, my lord.” Gaultier bowed again.
“You did not determine where the tracks led from the river?”
“They led toward the forest, but could be followed no further.”
Quinn sat back, his dissatisfaction clear. “I look forward to seeing it on the morrow.”
“I shall accompany you, sir.”
“Nay,” Quinn said firmly. “You will remain here at Annossy and ensure that the keep is secured.”
Gaultier opened his mouth and closed it again.
“Aye,” Quinn said, his voice silky yet stern. “We shall see if I learn more than you did on your quest. Upon my return from the mill, do not let me hear that you or any other men in the employ of Annossy have ridden through its gates since my arrival on this day with my lady wife. The tidings of my assumption of Annossy’s seal shall remain here for the moment.”
“If it was your desire to close the gates, sir, you should have told me as much.”
“I summoned all of you to the hall to pledge fealty, which should have been sufficient to ensure that none departed.”
Gaultier looked disgruntled and there was a gleam in his eyes that Melissande had never noticed before. “Of course, my lord,” he said, his tone cold, and bowed once more. Then he took his leave, striding across the hall and calling to some of the other sentries.
“Was it wise to provoke him so?” Melissande asked, unable to remain silent any longer.
/>
Quinn arched a brow. “I cannot say as yet. I am intrigued that he could be provoked, in truth.”
“Why?”
“How long has he been here?” he asked instead of replying.
“A little over a year. Tulley sent him after the death of the Captain of the Guard who had served my father.”
Quinn nodded and lifted his cup to her. “This is the wine of Annossy?”
“The last of it, I fear, sir.”
“It is most fine.”
“And this is the worst of it.”
His brows rose as he sipped.
Melissande shrugged. “We sold far more than usual in the fall, so have little for ourselves now.”
Quinn watched her. “You had need of the coin?”
Melissande nodded. “I had Gaultier hire four more men-at-arms, because of the attacks. The treasury was low as a result.”
Quinn sipped, his expression thoughtful and his hand still locked over her own.
“You evade my questions, sir.”
“I but think upon them, my lady, the better to give you a full response.”
Melissande sipped her ale and waited, suspecting that her impatience showed.
“He does not like me,” Quinn said finally.
“You do not like him,” she felt obliged to note and he smiled, though there was no humor in his gaze.
“I invite you, my lady, to give me a plausible reason for his dislike.”
Melissande was surprised to be asked her view, but then she knew more of Gaultier than Quinn. “He distrusts change, perhaps.”
Quinn nodded. “And perhaps he, like you, disliked my father.”
Melissande frowned. “I cannot think how he would have known Jerome.”
“Perhaps I shall ask him,” Quinn mused. “Still, his reaction is vehement. I am intrigued by that.”
Melissande eyed her husband. “Why do you think he dislikes you?”
“I think he cannot dislike me so quickly as that. He knows naught of me. I suspect he dislikes what I represent.”
“I do not understand.”
Quinn’s gaze met her own steadily. “He might not wish to have someone look closely upon his choices and actions.”
“Gaultier has served me well...”
“Has he? I hope as much, my lady, but you have admitted yourself that you know little of warfare.”
Melissande nodded in concession. “But surely, he would not deceive me.”
“I hope not,” Quinn said mildly, then sipped again of the wine. “There are other possibilities, of course. He might think I have claimed a prize he desired for himself.” He was watching her closely so he must have seen her surprise at his implication.
“I would not give myself to the Captain of the Guard!”
“That does not mean he had no such aspirations.”
Melissande was outraged. “What advantage would there be to me in such a liaison? There could be no match. He has naught to call his own...”
“I have little to call my own,” Quinn whispered, his eyes gleaming.
“You have Tulley’s favor and that is more than sufficient.”
“You told me he had Tulley’s favor.” His tone was not adversarial and Melissande had the sense that they strove to solve a riddle together, each contributing what they knew. It reminded her of how her parents used to confer and she found the discussion most seductive for all of that.
Melissande’s gaze flicked across the hall but Gaultier was gone. Had he aspired to claim her hand himself? She had certainly given him no encouragement in that pursuit.
To her surprise, she felt Quinn brush his lips across her knuckles. “I like that you are startled by the notion, my lady,” he murmured. “It reassures me about our shared future.”
“How so, sir?” Although Melissande might have agreed with his conclusion, she had not expected him to utter such words aloud. Truly, this man defied her every expectation. She simply wished she could know that his words were honest.
Jerome had been a polished liar, to be sure.
“You have but one betrothed, not a line of suitors.”
“Surely one betrothed is sufficient.”
“Surely, it is, but you cannot blame me for failing to know what neither you nor Tulley confided in me.”
Melissande could not. She smiled at Quinn and he blinked as if astonished. “You are right, of course.” She bowed her head then, wondering if he wished for her to simply agree with him every time. How dull her life would become! But there were men who believed women had no place beyond the bed chamber.
Quinn leaned closer and dropped his voice to a whisper. “If you do not wish to invite me on this night, I will stay away.”
Melissande met his gaze with surprise. “Your friends will notice.”
“I can concoct a tale.”
The very fact that he offered to do as much gave Melissande the confidence to make the offer she knew she should. “But I would not have you deceive your comrades on my account.” She took a deep breath to bolster her confidence, then leaned close, touching her lips to his ear. “You are invited to my bed this night, my lord husband. We have but three months to see Tulley’s objective achieved and I would not sacrifice an opportunity.”
Quinn’s pleasure was more than clear. Indeed, his eyes flashed so brightly that Melissande thought he might kiss her senseless before the entire company. “I am at your command, my lady,” he vowed in a heated whisper and kissed her palm, his gaze locked with hers as he folded her hand over the burning imprint of his kiss.
Melissande shivered, right to her marrow, her gaze snared by his own.
Then that treacherous heat unfurled in her belly, filling her thoughts with memories of all they had done the night before.
That was even before the slow smile began to claim Quinn’s lips. She watched, spellbound, and could not even take a breath.
Oh, she was lost for certain.
And already, she cared less than she should.
“And what of your fair sister?” Niall asked when the wine was gone and they were at ease in the hall. The villagers had returned to their homes and many of the torches had been extinguished. The hall was warm and Quinn’s comrades were not only present, but hale and hearty. It was good to be amongst friends again and in such comfort. Melissande remained by his side, and he knew that she was listening to the conversation.
He held the seal of Annossy, a rich prize by any accounting, and had a beautiful clever wife by his side. Annossy’s hall was gracious and the furnishings were fine. The meal had been delicious and the meat plentiful. The ale was good and the wine better, the bread fresh and the villeins of Annossy robust in their welcome.
Even more, his lady had invited him to her bed this night. Quinn’s characteristic optimism was reviving.
Truly, he might make a home here.
“What of her?” Quinn asked. “I have had no chance to learn of her situation.” Indeed, he had been surprised by Tulley’s confession in one missive that he even had a sister. When Quinn had left Sayerne, he had been his father’s only child. He refused to recall his last discussion with his mother, for her refusal to accompany him was still troubling. He could not bear to imagine what had happened to her in his absence. Tulley had only written to tell him of her demise, but had offered no details.
Did Melissande know?
Was that tale at the root of her dislike for Jerome? Quinn could believe as much. He doubted that his mother’s life had ended well.
He turned to Melissande and asked only one of his many questions. “Do you know of my sister Annelise?”
She shook her head. “I heard of her but have never met her.”
“Despite the proximity to Sayerne?” Amaury asked, his surprise clear.
“She did not live there so long as I recall. She was at the convent of Ste. Radegunde from a young age, from the time of the death of Jerome’s lady wife.”
Quinn did not ask how his mother had died. He dared not do so before the c
ompany, though he saw that Melissande’s expression was bland.
Perhaps she did not know the full extent of his father’s villainy.
That would be a blessing.
“I see the hand of Lord de Tulley,” Quinn said lightly and Melissande spared him a quick smile.
“No doubt he had a part in that choice.”
“He is a most vigilant liege lord,” Amaury said and Melissande only nodded. Her tact was admirable.
“And after the lord of Sayerne died?” Niall asked. “What happened to his daughter?”
“Yves took her to Tulley, of course,” Melissande said. “It was in December a year ago. She must have been sent elsewhere for she is not there now. Perhaps back to the convent. Heloise would have had a companion, if not.”
“Yves?” Quinn asked.
She gave him a considering glance. “You must have known of Yves.”
“I know of no one named Yves.”
Melissande licked her lips, as if she feared he would not like what she had to say. “Yves is Jerome’s younger son, his bastard.”
Quinn blinked.
Bayard chuckled.
Melissande took a breath. “Yves earned his spurs with Tulley’s sponsorship and returned to serve his father at Sayerne. Matters improved somewhat: Yves could be relied upon to keep his word, although his father oft broke the pledges made in his name.” She straightened primly. “I was sorry to hear that he had left, but then, Jerome did not acknowledge him and Tulley must have made it clear that there would be naught for him at Sayerne or Tulley.”
“But where did he go?” Quinn asked. He still could not make sense of the news that he had a brother.
“He escorted Annelise away from Sayerne and that was the last I heard of either of them. Neither are at Tulley and no one spoke of them there. I assume they were dispatched together but know not where.”
He had a brother.
All's Fair in Love and War: Four Enemies-to-Lovers Medieval Romances Page 15
