Tulley looked at his niece as if also interested in her reply.
She blushed again. “He was called Gaultier le Beau by some, because he was handsome to look upon. But I neither liked nor trusted him. There was something in his gaze that made me shiver.”
Quinn nodded understanding. “I do not like him either, my demoiselle, though I cannot say precisely why.”
“That is why you came to ask Uncle about him, for you knew that Uncle would not recommend a man who was untrustworthy.”
“Indeed,” Quinn agreed, though he was not so certain as that. He was convinced only that Tulley would not make a choice that might adversely affect his own situation, which was not the same matter at all. He frowned and cleared his throat. “My lord, my lady has mentioned that she was betrothed to another before our vows were exchanged...”
“Arnaud de Privas,” Tulley said with disdain. “Another wastrel, I am sad to say. She is well rid of him, to be sure.”
“But surely their betrothal has weight as an earlier bond...”
Tulley surveyed him, his gaze cool. “It would, if Arnaud had not wed another woman first.”
Quinn was startled. “Does my lady wife know of this?”
“I told her, but she chose to believe me mistaken.” Tulley sipped his wine and his lips tightened. “I am never mistaken about matters of such import.” He glared at Quinn and Quinn dropped his gaze.
Relief surged through him. His match was legitimate and he was sufficiently honest with himself to be glad. There was no legal impediment—the sole obstacles remained his lady wife’s affection and the conception of a child. These were not small obstacles, but Quinn found his heart lightened.
Tulley, meanwhile, shook a finger at him. “And I am reminded that I meant to speak to you about seeing Sayerne’s fields tilled this year. They have lain fallow too long and we have need of the grain...”
“But I am not to take the seal of Sayerne for another year,” Quinn felt obliged to note.
Tulley smiled. “Then you shall ensure the fields are tilled for me.”
Quinn cleared his throat, recalling Melissande’s practical questions, and strove to ask some of his own. She did not wish to see Annossy pillaged for Sayerne’s sake, and he did not wish to see either plundered for Tulley’s sole benefit. “If you are to claim the harvest, my lord, then who shall pay for the seed?”
Tulley harrumphed. “I could command that you do as much.”
“But that would scarcely be fair, my lord, and you are known for your justice. Surely you know that Sayerne no longer has any villeins to do the labor, either.” Quinn shook his head. “I recall that the fields were fertile, but they have not been tilled in recent years. This is a considerable labor to undertake, particularly with no promise of gain.”
Tulley glared. Quinn held his gaze, ensuring that his own expression was bland. He was well aware that Heloise was endeavoring to hide her smile.
“I will send the seed,” Tulley said finally. “But the villeins must come from Annossy.”
“But where shall they live, my lord?” Quinn asked. “It is too far for them to journey back and forth each day, unless they are to labor for no more than an hour.” He nodded. “And I visited Sayerne just this week. You may not be aware that there is not a single structure of integrity there, save the old grain barn on the border where we spent that night. The hall is not bad, but the roof of the solar is damaged...”
“I know the state of Sayerne,” Tulley fairly growled.
“I cannot ask the villeins to abandon the comfort of their homes to labor without shelter. ’Twould be most irresponsible.”
Tulley’s lips tightened. “I will send men to help with the building, after the rain stops.” He pointed at Quinn. “But you shall see that all is defended.”
Quinn inclined his head. “They will need provisions, as well, for it will be months before the harvest. Although if you intend to claim it all, then they will still be hungry then. And there must be knights for the defense, who will also need shelter and provisions, as well as their steeds and squires.”
“You would have me pay to rebuild all of Sayerne!”
“I would not impoverish Annossy to rebuild Sayerne, particularly when I do not hold the seal of Sayerne.”
Their gazes locked for a potent moment and Quinn did not dare to take a breath. He was aware of Heloise’s keen interest and Tulley’s vexation, but did not blink.
“Half,” Tulley snapped, casting his napkin upon the board. “I desire half. The rest you may divide for seed for next year and flour for your villeins.” He sighed with annoyance “And I will send provisions for all when the ploughing begins, along with men to build. Are you satisfied?”
“I should think a third might be more fitting,” Quinn said mildly. “For a tenth must go to the church.”
Tulley inhaled.
Tulley exhaled.
Tulley glared.
And then he ceded. “You drive a hard bargain, Quinn de Sayerne. A third it will be then. Now are you satisfied?”
“I am certain I will have more questions, my lord,” Quinn said. “Such tasks of administration are new to me, after all.”
Heloise giggled.
Tulley cleared his throat. “That is as may be. On this day, however, you will undertake an enquiry for me.”
“But I intend to ride for Annossy, my lord, that I might be gone but a day.”
“Nonsense. You will remain here in Tulley this night, for it is the only sensible course.”
“But...”
“The rains will begin shortly, Quinn. I smelled as much in the air this morn as soon as I rose. Indeed, they might have begun already. And when the first spring rain falls in Tulley, it is no time for man or horse to be on the road. There will be a veritable deluge. The river Helva will swell its banks by the dawn, and tomorrow, after noon, the sun will reappear.” He nodded with confidence. “It is always thus. The snow will have vanished within a week.”
“All of it?” Quinn asked, skeptical. He recalled violent rains in Sayerne in his boyhood, but could not believe the entire valley experienced such a rapid thaw.
“All of it,” Tulley said. He wiped his mouth on his napkin. “And so this day, instead of riding forth in such inclement weather, you will undertake a small task for me.” There was steel in his tone.
“But my wife will expect me to return to Annossy, sir.”
“Did you leave the holding secured?”
“Aye, sir. The gates were to be kept closed in my absence.”
“And there is no reason for any to leave Annossy in such weather as there will shortly be.”
“But the brigands...”
“Will undoubtedly also keep to their shelter. Perhaps they will be too foolish to do as much and will drown.” Tulley waved off Quinn’s objections. “Far better for you to earn my favor with the rapid fulfillment of this task.”
“I would not have Melissande concerned.”
“Would you not?” Tulley laughed. “You have a reluctant bride, Quinn, and I see the truth of it well enough. Let her miss you a little.” He leaned closer and winked. “Court the favor of the lord you have just irked instead.”
Quinn noticed that Heloise’s eyes were sparkling and she seemed to be fighting the urge to laugh. He realized that she must have been confronted by Tulley’s firm opinions before. “Of course, my lord,” Quinn said, inclining his head. “What would you have me do?”
“A party arrived last evening. They crossed the Beauvoir Pass and are armed. I would know who they are and why they arrive in Tulley. They take their rest at the inn in the village.” Tulley gave Quinn a look. “At least, I assume they remain there, and possess the wits to keep to shelter when foul weather arrives.”
Quinn thought Tulley could have sent a messenger, but did not say as much. It would be unwise to provoke his overlord before the seal of Sayerne was in his hand. “Aye, my lord.”
“I do not like parties of armed men arriving without annou
ncement,” Tulley complained. “And this is the third party to come through the pass in little more than a week. First, there was your party, then the others who proved to be your comrades.”
Quinn was startled that Tulley knew this.
The older man nodded. “Aye, they were watched as they rode up the valley and when you greeted them upon their return.” He gave Quinn a look.
“They are three of my companion knights, met on crusade. We had parted ways for the journey home and agreed to meet at Sayerne in the spring.”
“And were there more of you?”
“Aye.”
“Then perhaps these men are more of your fellows. One, I understand, is missing an eye.”
“Luc,” Quinn said softly and Tulley eyed him. “I cannot say, my lord, but one of the knights whose arrival I yet anticipate, Luc Douglas, lost an eye in battle.”
“I suspect my instincts are right, then. Go, find their names and their reason for entering my lands, and return for the evening meal to tell me of them.” Tulley rose then and gestured to Heloise to follow him. Quinn also rose and bowed, then retrieved his gloves and cloak. The twins, Thierry and Luc Douglas, had ridden separately from Palestine with Rolfe de Viandin. Quinn hoped this was their party, for he would be glad to see his comrades again.
As he left the stables and stepped onto the road that wound down the hill, passing through the village en route to the gates, he saw that it had started to rain. He looked up at the darkening sky as the onslaught became heavier and smiled.
Even the weather obeyed the command of the Lord de Tulley.
As he walked, he thought of Gaultier and his scheme to wed a rich woman. ’Twas not a bad plan, and he was hardly the first man to pursue it. But Quinn did not like that after Marie’s marriage, Gaultier had come to Annossy. He had lied about Tulley dispatching him, and Quinn took that as a very good assurance that his original guess about the intentions of Annossy’s Captain of the Guard was exactly right.
If naught else, the man had no right to such an exalted position at Annossy, and Quinn would see that remedied immediately upon his return.
Thirteen
It did indeed prove to be Luc and Thierry Douglas who had taken shelter at Tulley’s inn. Both knights had dark hair and rode chestnut destriers that were also brothers. Quinn had smiled at the sight of Emperor and Dragon in the stables, knowing the truth before he even entered the common room of the inn. Their squires, Baird and Thorne, each standing behind his knight, grinned at the sight of him, and he was certain both boys had grown several inches in height. To Quinn’s surprise, though, Rolfe de Viandin was not with them.
After greetings were exchanged and Quinn had shaken the rain out of his cloak, he joined them at the board. Baird hastened to fetch him a cup of ale.
“Rolfe rode on ahead. He wished to be home before the Yule, though we thought there would be too much snow on the pass,” Thierry said.
“Aye, we recalled your tale of it well enough and were cautious as a result,” Luc said, nudging Quinn.
“I never thought to ask if there had been others of our party when we came through the pass,” Quinn said. “I thought you all behind us.”
“And they are not so welcoming there,” Thierry said with a grimace. “Truly, it is more than the wind that is chilly at Beauvoir.” They laughed together at that as Baird returned with another pitcher of ale and a cup for Quinn. He poured and the comrades saluted each other. It was good cold ale.
“Did you ask about Rolfe?” Quinn asked.
“Aye,” Luc said and exchanged a merry glance with his brother. Quinn could not guess what amused them so. “Though I feared they might recall that beast of his more readily than Rolfe himself.”
“Mephistopheles,” Thierry said with a smile of affection. “What manner of fool would give the largest blackest destrier such a name? It would invite trouble.”
“Though Rolfe has found fortune, not trouble,” Luc observed and his brother nodded agreement.
“Aye?” Quinn asked. “How so?”
“You will never believe it,” Luc said, dropping his voice low in confidence as he leaned over the board. His eye twinkled merrily. “Rolfe was wed at Beauvoir keep.”
“Wed? Rolfe de Viandin? What madness is this?” Quinn demanded with a smile. He could not imagine Rolfe taking a wife at all, and certainly couldn’t think of a reason for the ceremony to occur at that fortress. “He is the one of us who will be last to marry, to be sure!”
Luc wagged a finger at him. “Not so. Rolfe arrived at the pass with a maiden. Evidently, he had rescued her or was escorting her for some reason or another.”
“A maiden?” Quinn asked.
“A maiden,” Luc confirmed.
“She was very pretty, by all accounts,” Thierry whispered and they all chuckled together.
“And Rolfe’s mother was seeking him out, for she knew he returned home,” Luc continued. “His father had been a comrade of Bertrand, Lord of Beauvoir, so she had paused there on her way south to find Rolfe, then was compelled to remain because of the snow. Evidently, she had appealed to Tulley to find Rolfe a bride, for his older brother died last fall.”
“Rolfe inherited Viandin?” Quinn said with surprise.
Thierry nodded. “And was wed at the Yule, at Beauvoir, to the maiden with whom he traveled, at Tulley’s dictate. When there was a thaw in January, he rode on to Viandin with bride and mother.”
“These are fine tidings indeed,” Quinn said and raised his cup to toast Rolfe’s good fortune. They drank to their comrade’s health and Quinn guessed that he was not the sole one to be amazed. “Are you certain it is true?”
“So they say,” Thierry said.
“We thought to see if you had returned to Sayerne or not, then continue to Viandin to confirm the tale for ourselves,” Luc said. “It lies on the path to Paris, does it not?”
Quinn nodded.
“Unless Rolfe comes to Sayerne in May, as we all vowed to do,” Thierry added.
“He might not choose to make the journey if his lady wife is with child,” Quinn said. They agreed on this, then the brothers looked expectantly at Quinn.
“And how did you find Sayerne?” Luc asked.
“In ruin,” Quinn admitted ruefully and they expressed dismay. He held up a hand. “And I, too, am wed at Tulley’s command, by strange coincidence, and am now Lord d’Annossy. It has been but days.”
“Annossy?” the brothers asked in unison.
“A neighboring holding to Sayerne, and one that is in better repair.” Quinn leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Annossy’s borders are under attack from brigands, and the holding administered by a daughter alone. Tulley insisted upon the match and charged me to rout the villains.”
“And a wife in the bargain, never mind one with a prosperous holding. Rolfe is not the sole one of us blessed by Dame Fortune,” Thierry said, toasting Quinn.
“Not necessarily so,” Luc said in a teasing tone. “Is the lady young? Is she a beauty?”
“Aye, she is both. Clever, as well, and well experienced in matters of administration.” Quinn sighed. “I have much to learn from my lady wife.”
The brothers studied him, perhaps hearing more than he confessed.
Quinn forced a smile. “Perhaps that is Tulley’s scheme, for I am not to be granted Sayerne’s seal for a year, and only then if we conceive a son.” He thought of Melissande’s concerns for her own future and wondered yet again how he could reassure her of his intentions.
Not by delaying his return on this day, that was for certain. He frowned, disliking that Tulley again dictated his fate.
“Have you heard tell of the others?” Thierry asked after a moment of silence.
“Aye! Bayard is at Annossy, of course, and Amaury ensures the gates are defended in my absence. Lothair and Niall arrived with Amaury just after me, and they guard the mill, which has been attacked twice.”
“Brigands! What manner of coward attacks those who are not trained i
n the arts of war? I wager you have need of more men you can trust,” Thierry said, a predictable gleam in his eyes. He never had any sympathy for those who preyed upon the weak.
“I do and I welcome you both, but this night, I am summoned to the board of the Lord de Tulley.”
“Invite us,” Thierry said with a grin, then nudged his brother. “He might grant one of us a bride, as that seems to be his habit.”
“He has a niece close by his side, and I should not be fool enough to smile at her,” Quinn advised and they laughed together. “I will ask him, to be sure,” he vowed and they drank together to the success of that scheme.
’Twas strange to be without Lord Quinn at Annossy. Berthe felt his absence keenly, though she had met him only a few days before. There was a reassuring effect of his presence that Berthe noticed in his absence. She knew her reaction was naught compared to that of her lady. Though Lady Melissande strove to remain occupied and acted as if she scarce noticed her husband’s absence, Berthe thought her lady too watchful. She jumped if any soul entered the hall and glanced frequently toward the gates. Berthe could fairly see her listening for the sound of a destrier’s hoof beats.
But there was no such sound. The day dragged long, the shadows lengthened in the hall and finally the lanterns were lit. Still, Lord Quinn did not return. The rain drummed in the bailey and on the roof of the keep. The dampness of spring filled the air along with the smell of the thaw. There were already a few trickles of water on the floor of the great hall and the moat was filled high. The guard changed on the curtain wall and in the bailey, and Gaultier came into the hall, his expression sour with disapproval.
Lady Melissande scarcely looked up. She was working upon the accounts for Annossy, having told Louis that very morning that she must ensure they were complete to date before surrendering them to her lord husband. She had labored upon them all the day long, seated by the fire in the great hall.
Berthe shivered, knowing she would find it hard to stay warm on this night, and hoped she could find a second straw pallet to put beneath her own. The very stone emanated a dampness in the spring that she felt more keenly than winter’s chill. She wore a cloak, even though she was in the hall, and went to the kitchen to get a cup of mulled cider for her lady.
All's Fair in Love and War: Four Enemies-to-Lovers Medieval Romances Page 26
