Susan Spencer Paul (12 page)

It opened to an airy, partly enclosed room, which was roofed and protected yet had no wall to shut out the view from the parapet wall. The first thing Lillis noticed, other than the delightful breeze of fresh air that hit her face, were the several crates and boxes neatly stacked against the farthest wall. Looking closer, she saw that these contained a variety of birds, including pigeons, hawks and falcons. Bent over one of these cages, intent on what they were doing, were Hugh and Hugo.

They looked up as their guests walked through the door, and then gave Justin and Candis looks of disgust.

“What did you bring
her
for?” one of them asked angrily.

“And them.” The other one nodded with annoyance at the guards who stood just outside the door.

Lillis wasn’t surprised at this sour greeting—she and the twins had kept a purposeful distance from one another since the day after they’d brought her to Gyer.

Candis looked questioningly at Lillis, but Justin merely shrugged. “She’s our sister now,” he explained, walking over to see what the twins were doing.

“Thanks to you two,” Lillis added, smiling at the twins, following Justin and dragging Candis along. “What are you two fiends up to now that you’ve expended the joy of scaring off yet another tutor?”

The twins glanced at each other with knowing smiles, then returned their attention to the bird whose talons they were carefully trimming. When they finished they held the creature up for inspection, revealing a beautiful brown-and-black falcon.

“Oh! What a lovely bird!” Lillis exclaimed with admiration. “Are all of these yours?” She looked again at the cages around her. The birds were well cared for, she saw, and the cages were large and spacious.

The twins were fully prepared to hate Lillis of Wellewyn for as long as she was going to be at Gyer, but anyone who was able to appreciate either their birds or their dogs couldn’t be all bad.

“Yes,” Hugh answered with pride. “And we caught or bred every single one ourselves.”

“Every single one,” Hugo echoed. “And we’ve trained them, too.”

Lillis was truly impressed. She knew without a doubt that the twins were nothing but the worst kind of trouble, yet falconry was an admirable skill, indeed.

“A fine accomplishment,” she told them approvingly. “And what a lovely place to keep your birds,” she added, walking toward the ledge and leaning her arms on the parapet. “What a wonderful view.” She strained to see if there was any sight of Wellewyn from there, but realized that she didn’t even know in which direction Wellewyn was. Candis and Justin joined her and stood on their toes to peer over the top.

“This is our private place,” one of the twins said from where they still sat with the bird. “Alex gave it to us a long time ago.”

“He said we could have it if we’d keep out of his way,” the other said with a laugh.

“I don’t blame him,” Lillis replied. “You are both rotten, ill-mannered beasts. I’m not sure whether I feel sorrier for him, being stuck with you, or for all the tutors you’ve scared away.”

She heard them snickering behind her.

“I’d not laugh, were I you. One day you’ll regret what you’ve done. Only think of the disservice you are doing to Justin and Candis. If you must keep yourselves ignorant, can you not at least allow them the opportunity to learn?”

“Oh, they’re all right,” said Hugh, putting the falcon back in his cage. “They don’t want to be stuck with that boring stuff all day, anyway.”

“They’re just children,” Hugo added, pulling a pigeon out of its enclosure and examining its feet. “They have lots of time to learn things.”

Lillis turned, rested her back against the wall and folded her arms beneath her breasts. “I see. You believe you are doing them a favor, then, by chasing their tutors away. It is some form of brotherly love, I suppose. But what of the two of you? You are no longer children. What kinds of things have you learned?”

They both shrugged and continued to examine their birds.

“Can you read?”

“Some.”

“Can you write?”

“Some.”

“Can you work numbers?”

“No.”

“What about preparing for knighthood? Have you done even the smallest amount of squiring? Have you learned how to use weaponry?”

“Enough to get by.”

“Well, then, what
can
you do?” she asked with exasperation. “Other than get into trouble, I mean, and raise birds and dogs.”

Justin was more upset than the twins by the insinuation in Lillis’s voice. “They know how to do lots of things!” he informed her hotly, giving her his back, and Candis, taking Lillis’s hand and pressing it against her cheek, asked, “Why are you so mean to Hugh and Hugo?”

“Dear Lord,” Lillis muttered, growing more aggravated at the smug looks the twins gave her. “You’ve certainly charmed the children,” she told them dryly. The twins laughed, delighted with themselves, and Lillis couldn’t hold on to her fury. The little fiends
were
charming, at least when they wished to be. And they were more than a little handsome, as well, being possessed of the same green eyes and dark hair that their eldest brother had. She could just envision the trouble they’d cause when they were older—the innumerable female hearts they’d break.

“Justin.” She set a hand upon his angrily stiff shoulder. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken as I did about your brothers, especially not in front of you and Candis. Do you forgive me?”

He did, readily, and Lillis once more turned her attention to the view beyond the wall. “Can one see Wellewyn from here?” she asked.

“No, not Wellewyn,” Hugh admitted, coming up alongside her, “but look, over that way—”

For the next half hour Lillis stood pressed against the wall, squeezed between the children and the twins, while the twins happily pointed out every sight to be seen from that particular vantage point.

Hugh and Hugo, Lillis discovered, were possessed of excessive senses of humor. They laughed at everything, whether it was funny or not, and somehow caused her and the other children to laugh along with them.

“That bend in the road there is where we caught you and your companions.” Hugh leaned over and pointed.

“We hid in those bushes on the right,” Hugo broke in, “and waited until you had just made your turn. Then we jumped out at you!” He laughed.

“Did we ever surprise you, too!” Hugh added, laughing as if it were the funniest thing he’d ever known. “You should have seen the look on your face when we told you we were taking you to Gyer! It was wonderful beyond anything!”

“Well, it wasn’t wonderful beyond anything for me,” Lillis said. “Beastly children. If I were your brother I’d pack the two of you off to a distant monastery and commit you to six years’ servitude.” She pushed from the wall and brushed bits of gravel off her surcoat. “I do thank you for the grand tour, good sirs,” she addressed the twins in a mockingly formal manner that amused them, “but I think I must take the children back down now. If your Aunt Leta has returned from the village she may be worried about them. Come along Justin, Candis.” She took their hands.

“Hugh, look!” Hugo suddenly pointed to the courtyard below. “God’s teeth, what’s amiss?”

They all looked, and what Lillis saw almost made her heart stop. “Merciful God,” she murmured, gazing with shock at what looked like dozens and dozens of armed men and their horses assembling in the courtyard in a wild rush. “Sweet merciful God—he must be thinking to march on Wellewyn!”

She reacted without rational thought and, still holding the children, turned, pushed her way past her surprised guards and raced down the dark stairway.

“Lillis! Wait!” It was the twins she heard, running close behind her. “Lillis!”

Careful of the children, she continued her descent, as fast as she could without letting them stumble, and her heart, every step, pounded violently in her body.

They made such a frantic, attention-getting entrance to the great hall that all activity came to a halt, and every eye turned their way. Willem, who stood nearby giving instructions to a group of men, gaped at her.

“Where have you been?” he demanded.

“What?” she replied stupidly. “I—I have been with the children. Sir Willem, what is happening? Has my father’s reply been for war?”

Willem grabbed her hand, disentangling the children without care. “I think I’d best take you to your chamber, my lady.
Now.
” He began shoving her back toward the stairs.

“But I want to know what’s going on! Where is my husband?”

Willem didn’t have a chance to answer, nor did he have a chance to get her any farther. Her husband’s booming voice took precedence over the entire room.

“Where—in—God’s—holy—name—have—you—
been?
”

He shouted each word furiously from somewhere behind her. Lillis and Willem both cringed, then slowly turned. Alexander stood in the middle of the hall, staring at Lillis with an expression that made her knees start shaking.

He was addressing her, Lillis realized with some surprise. She hardly knew how to answer him. “I—” she began, but was cut off by the twins.

“She was with us, Alex,” Hugh said quickly, stepping between them.

Hugo moved to stand next to his brother. “Yes, Alex, she was with us.”

“And with us, too, Alex,” Justin added, dragging Candis to where the twins were.

Only at that moment did Lillis realize what had been going on. Her husband hadn’t been preparing to go to war against Wellewyn or anyone else. He had been preparing to go in search of
her.

Alexander’s face didn’t soften as he gazed at his siblings. “Go to your chambers,” he ordered quietly, then looked behind them to Willem. “Relieve the men. Tell them they may return to their quarters.”

“Alex—” Hugh attempted.

“I said go to your chambers!” Alexander thundered.
“Now!”

“Why do you shout at them?” Lillis demanded, moving from the protectiveness of Willem’s side and approaching her husband. “They’ve done nothing wrong. Must you take your anger out on innocent children?”

She stood directly in front of him and met his furious gaze. His green eyes searched her face.

“I suppose I should not,” he said with menacing softness, “since you are the one I am angry with.” He extended an arm toward her. “You will come with me.”

Lillis looked at him with sudden fright, then cast a helpless glance at the twins and Willem. The twins, especially, gave her looks of caution. She didn’t have a chance to make a decision about what she would do, however, for Alexander impatiently took her hand and pressed it upon his arm.

“I am not going to kill you, wife,” he promised, leading her in the direction of the garden. “Yet.”

T
hey walked in silence, Alexander tightly holding Lillis’s hand and Lillis stumbling along, trying to keep up with his long, purposeful strides.

She was worried, Alexander knew, that he was going to vent his anger on her, but she was wrong. He was too relieved to have found her still safely at Gyer to be angry with her. In truth, it was himself he was angry with. He hadn’t liked the way he’d felt when he’d been unable to find her anywhere in the castle. He hadn’t liked it at all. But she hadn’t escaped. She was still there; in fact, she was right beside him. Her strong, beautiful fingers—so different from Barbara’s tiny ones—lay tensely in his grasp. There was nothing to be upset about. She was there. Alexander forced himself to calm, and slowed his pace.

The day was warm and beautiful; there wouldn’t be too many more like this. The sun was beginning to settle into a red glow in the sky and the warm breeze caressed his face. He always enjoyed walking in the gardens with Barbara; there wasn’t any reason why he shouldn’t enjoy walking with his wife just as much. He’d felt an unpleasant surge of guilt when she’d appeared before him earlier in the day, asking if she might go out of doors. He should have thought of that before—should have known that she would desire such a thing, just as any human being would. But his thoughts these past days since his wedding were rarely what he wanted them to be.

“I said that I would take you walking in the gardens when I had a chance, did I not?” He brought their pace to an easy stroll and lightened his grip on her hand.

Lillis looked at him. “And I told you that I did not wish to see them under your escort.”

“It seems you haven’t a choice, madam. They’re lovely, are they not? They were my mother’s pride and joy. She planted nearly all of the roses herself.”

Lillis pulled her hand away and stopped. Alexander stopped, as well, and looked at her.

“Are you not going to rail at me?” she asked.

Alexander drew in a deep breath. No, he wasn’t going to rail at her. She looked so beautiful. Never had he seen such a woman. Her long white hair was braided tightly atop her head, but several strands had broken loose and were fluttering across her face in the breeze. Slowly he lifted one hand and tucked them behind her ear. His fingers grazed her cheek as he did so and the soft warmth of her skin unnerved him. Although she shivered when he touched her, Lillis continued to gaze at him solemnly, somewhat warily from her blue eyes.

“Do you want me to be angry with you?” he asked. “I certainly have every reason to be, I admit. I thought you had escaped, Lillis. I don’t know how, but I thought you had done it.”

“With such capable guards watching over me night and day?” she countered with disbelief. “I think they would rather die than let me out of their sight.”

He frowned. “I couldn’t find you anywhere. Your guards need changing if they allow you to hide yourself so well.”

Color rose in her face, an occurrence that Alexander found disturbingly attractive.

“There is no need to change them,” she said. “It was not their fault that I couldn’t be found. In fact, I shall be quite angry if you do change them. I’ve grown used to those two silent statues following me everywhere.”

“I’ll not change them, then,” he allowed, capturing one of her hands again. He led her toward a nearby bench. “It is a beautiful afternoon, is it not?”

Lillis sat where he indicated, and tugged her hand free. “My Lord Gyer, if you are going to be angry with me you had best do it now. I’ll not pretend to exchange pleasantries with you until then.”

Alexander shook his head ruefully. “I begin to think you’ve unnatural tendencies, my lady, to request punishment when none has been offered. I was angry when I thought you’d escaped me and, indeed, you would have been sorry to have met me if you’d tried such a thing, for I would have found you before you went far. But you are here and all is well.”

Her expression tightened. “Of course, my lord. I understand. You thought your precious land was slipping through your fingers. You thought perhaps you had married me for naught. But I am here and all is well, as you say.”

“Think of it how you will, my lady,” he invited, settling himself on the bench beside her. “Whether it is true or no changes nothing. I’ve told you that you may not leave Gyer until the land is in my hands, and that holds fast.”

She folded her hands in her lap. “Yes, I know that. And once you have the land you will be glad to see me go.”

Alexander frowned at the words. Why did she speak so, when he had told her she might stay at Gyer and be welcome?

“I am curious to know where you were,” he said, pushing the troubling thoughts aside. “I had the castle thoroughly searched before calling my men to readiness.” She finally looked at him, with a little half smile that made his heart do strange flops in his chest.

“Candis and Justin took me to the twins’ private place on the roof. My guards came, of course,” she added quickly, seeing his look of concern. “It was very pleasant and I fear time flew from us. Did you not think to look for me there?”

“I’ve completely forgotten about that makeshift chamber until you spoke of it just now,” he admitted. “I think I had it built some years ago in an effort to keep the twins occupied. They keep their birds there, do they not?” He spoke these words lightly and easily, but her reaction to them was one of quick anger.

“Yes, they keep their birds there! You don’t even know! You don’t care how your brothers and sister occupy themselves all day long?”

Now that, Alexander thought, rather stunned by her assault, was both ridiculous and unfair. He took excellent care of his brothers and Candis.

“Of course I care how they occupy themselves. I wouldn’t have built that rooftop chamber for them, otherwise.”

She stood up and away from him, fixing him with a look of disdain. “Why have your brothers not been trained for knighthood?” she demanded.

Alexander stood, as well. “They have no interest in pursuing that ordination. Would you have me force unwilling subjects into a holy order?”

“What about Candis and Justin?”

“Justin is too young for knighthood, madam. I’ll not even comment on Candis.”

“That isn’t what I meant!” she cried, thoroughly upset. She moved farther away from him and Alexander couldn’t help but follow. He had the oddest desire to pull her into his arms and soothe her.

“They have their tutor, and their nurse. What more would you have me do for them?”

Her mouth gaped wide and she stared at him with amazement. When he tried to come near she pushed him away.

“You don’t even know!” she accused furiously, slapping at his consoling hands. “You don’t know that the twins scared off the latest tutor only this morn! You don’t know that the nurse you have entrusted Justin and Candis to is a drunkard, fit only for the village tavern! She sleeps away her drunkeness all day and leaves the children to care for themselves. What—what kind of brother are you?” She kept moving away, putting a distance between them.

All of this was news to Alexander. He’d always left the running of household matters to Aunt Leta and Barbara, being so busy with managing his estates. He never considered whether the twins and the children were being looked after or not; he always assumed that they were.

“I’m a concerned brother,” he answered angrily, finally capturing her. “A caring brother.” He put his arms around her and pulled her close. “If what you say is true, I will put it to rights. It has never been easy to keep a tutor at Gyer with the twins here.”

“That is no excuse....” She let her voice trail off, finding herself pressed tightly against his hard body. Her eyes widened and locked with his, her face flushed hotly. For all of five seconds they stayed thus, and Alexander knew that he was going to kiss her. Truly kiss her and not the ceremonial way he’d done at their marriage. He was going to kiss her. He was—

She jerked free, just as his lips touched hers.

“Have—have you heard from my father yet?” she asked shakily, turning her gaze to a nearby rosebush and pressing both hands to her temples in what looked like an agitated effort to keep her brain in her head.

Disappointment surged through Alexander. She’d felt good in his arms, pressed up against him, so different from the fragile delicateness of Barbara. The desire to taste her mouth—just once—was merciless, though he knew he had no right forcing himself on her when she did not wish it. God’s feet! He’d brought her here to enjoy the gardens, not to ravish her.

“No, I’ve not.” He felt unaccountably angry, and childishly deprived. “I have received an interesting missive from one of the king’s deputies in response to my missive regarding our marriage.”

“Oh?” She looked at him with sudden interest. “Has King Henry approved our marriage, then?”

“He’ll not even consider the matter until he’s had concurrence from your father that he approves of the marriage and the contract. Then we’ll know. But that was not what made the missive interesting. It was that the deputy who sent the missive, Sir Malvin Giraut, claims acquaintance with you, from Tynedale, and sends his regards and congratulations.”

Lillis’s face lit with a smile. “Sir Malvin! Yes, I know him well, and also his brother, Sir Ywain. They and their men often stayed the night at Tynedale on their way to and from the battle at Shrewsbury. It was a great honor to be allowed to serve them, and I was often thus honored. How kind of him to remember me.”

“He did more than remember you, madam. He recalled how thoroughly besotted he and his brother were with you, of how they often argued between themselves which of them should be allowed to seek your favors.”

“What!” Lillis cried with disbelief, then uttered a laugh. “But how foolish, my lord. Why ever did he write you such nonsense, I wonder? Sir Malvin and his brother were always most kind, but neither of them would have noticed such a plain girl as I. Surely he wrote you in jest. You know he must.”

“It did not seem so,” Alexander said truthfully, bemused at the way she belittled herself. It was the way of beautiful women to draw out compliments by making less of their beauty, yet he’d never thought Lillis would sink so low. He felt vaguely disappointed in her.

“You may see the missive yourself, if you so desire. Sir Malvin recounted that Ywain was so much in love with the beautiful Lillis Ryon that he dared to sneak into her chamber one night, intending to declare his lifelong devotion, when the lady in question hit him on the head with a candlestick, robbing him of his senses. Sir Malvin believed his unfortunate sibling was only saved further wounds by the arrival of his squire, who made apologies to the outraged young lady and dragged his insensible master away.” He chuckled at her look of amazement. “Poor Ywain never dared look at you again, so thoroughly discouraged and heartsick he was. Sir Malvin wrote that he pined over you for weeks afterward.” He laughed again.

Lillis wasn’t sure whether to scoff or join him in his laughter. The whole tale was utterly ridiculous. “My lord,” she said, unable to stop the smile that tugged at her lips, “that is truly the silliest tale I’ve ever heard. Ywain Giraut happens to be a very handsome man—”

“I know well how Ywain Giraut looks,” Alexander interrupted her with sudden curtness, losing his smile. “I fought beside him and Sir Malvin at Shrewsbury.”

“Then you know full well how foolish Sir Malvin’s words are,” she said with what sounded like relief. “Every girl in the convent was madly in love with Sir Ywain, and each of them far lovelier than I. I admit that he tried to steal into our sleeping chamber one night, but it was to meet another that he did so. I was in charge of the girls, and simply discouraged him in his effort. That’s all there was to it, I promise you.”

Alexander didn’t believe that for a moment, and his expression clearly said so. “Come, now, madam, and cease these protestations. This false modesty in you is clearly meant to beget compliments, for I think it impossible that you do not know your own beauty. No, no, my lady.” He ignored her quick, sputtering attempt at denial and continued. “I shall tell you how I see it. In the ten years you lived at Tynedale, you enslaved every man who set eyes upon you, intentionally or no, with your loveliness, yet rightfully honored and protected your virtue as best you could. You behaved most admirably, madam wife.”

His words came out half teasing, half serious, but certainly with no intent to harm. He meant what he said about her beauty, and he meant what he said about her not being so foolish as to sacrifice her maidenhead to any of the romantic, wandering knights who’d come her way during her years at the convent. The good Lord only knew how often young girls fell prey to such men, yet his wife had kept herself a maiden, perfect and whole.

But Lillis’s expression grew hurt, as if he’d insulted her, and her beautiful eyes welled with tears.

“You are a hard man, Alexander of Gyer,” she whispered, “yet I never believed you could be so cruel. You take delight in making jest of me, but I have not deserved that. I shall thank God when I can be free of you.”

And she pushed past his shocked self, only managing a few steps before Alexander stopped her, locking his hands around her shoulders.

“Lillis! What does this mean? I gave you no insult!”

She turned teary eyes on him. “You called me beautiful!” she accused, and promptly burst into sobs, so that he pulled her into his arms and held her close.

“Oh, God’s toes, Lillis,” he said with a groan, “never tell me you do not know how lovely you are. Never tell me you are so blind, my Lady Gyer.” But she was crying, and he knew she was too proud a woman to cry easily, especially in front of others—especially in front of him.

She was crying so hard that she couldn’t even answer, and Alexander thought that she must be crying for all the days she’d been with him, ridding herself of all misery and unhappiness. He held her and let her cry, and knew without guilt that she felt good to him, just as a woman should feel. She felt right and perfect, and he held her and comforted her and enjoyed every moment of it.

“Lillis...Lillis,” he crooned in a gentle voice. “Sweet wife.”