Claire Delacroix (53 page)

It angered Burke that Alys’s family would treat her with such disregard. He forced himself to mind his manners, knowing that churlishness of any kind would only hinder his quest for Alys’s hand.

“Lord Kiltorren.” Burke acknowledged the man with a slight bow.

“Welcome, Burke de Montvieux! Welcome to our abode.” Cedric gestured to the three women clustered around him. “You do recall my family?”

“How could I forget?” Burke bent low over Deirdre’s hand and kissed her knuckles, letting them make what they would of his dry comment. “A pleasure, Lady Kiltorren.”

Deirdre sighed audibly, cast a significant glance at her spouse, then dug her elbow into Malvina’s ribs. The girl, no more attractive than she had been before and considerably more rotund, stepped forward and grinned. What could be discerned of Malvina’s hair was as fiery an orange as a sunset, her complexion as pale as milk.

’Twas not her figure, nor even the fact that she shared her father’s startlingly vivid coloring, that Burke found offensive. ’Twas the clear evidence of Malvina’s greed. Her gaze ran over Burke’s steed and his garb as if she would assess its value on the spot.

“Sir, you must recall our charming daughter Malvina.” Deirdre pushed her daughter forward.

Mother and daughter together did not look in the least like blood relations. Malvina was so pale and plump, while
Deirdre was dark and thin. The older woman was constantly in motion, and one had a sense that she grasped at all within reach.

That, at least, they had in common.

“Of course,” Burke murmured, then bent over Malvina’s heavily beringed hand.

“And Brigid.” Deirdre almost forcibly hauled her younger daughter forward. The girl blushed scarlet and stared stubbornly at her toes, her attempts to ease backward earning her a sharp smack.

He felt sorry for the child, who clearly would have preferred to miss this introduction. Brigid was far prettier than her elder sister, though she could not hold a candle to Alys’s beauty. The freckles upon her nose made her look young, and the end of her braid was a darker auburn than her sister’s.

Brigid’s eyes were wide, her stare not unlike the trusting glance of a steed. She was clearly not possessed of Alys’s keen wits nor indeed that lady’s spirit, Burke guessed. Likely this youngest was oft trampled by her mother. Young Brigid did not appear to have any confidence in either her appearance or herself.

’Twas no wonder. Burke decided to redress that imbalance and salvage something of merit from this ordeal.

“Fair Brigid, how enchanting to meet you again,” he said as he bent over her hand. “Your beauty has only blossomed in the years since last we met.”

He heard Brigid inhale, but noted that her face turned yet more crimson.

When he looked up, Cedric was rubbing his plump hands together gleefully. “Is it true, then, what the runner declared? Have you come to Kiltorren for a bride?”

Deirdre urged her daughters forward and smiled hungrily.

Burke smiled. “Aye, I ride at the command of Princess Brianna of Tullymullagh, who bade me seek a bride.”

Cedric coughed awkwardly into his hand. “And have you a particular maiden already in mind, sir?”

Burke slanted a glance to the older man, instinctively guessing that a declaration of his suit for Alys would be poorly timed. “Aye, I do, but with your leave, I would keep my own counsel for the moment.” And Burke spared the lord his finest smile.

Of course he was misinterpreted, which was precisely what Burke had planned.

“Ah!” Cedric declared with a wink. “The boy would confirm his recollection before declaring his suit! No harm in that, no harm at all. Come, come, you must stay within the keep proper. Godfrey! Find someone to tend our guest’s steed!”

“Aye, my lord.” Godfrey cranked down the gate, whistling for a stablehand as he did so. Darkness seemed to have descended quickly while they talked, for the night had fallen like a curtain around them. The light spilled from the hall portal like a beacon.

“With your grace, I shall go to the stables myself. I fear Moonshadow can be skittish at times.”

“Good, good.” Cedric’s voice boomed. “Then perhaps you might join us for a late repast?”

“We should all dearly love to hear of your grand adventures these past years,” Deirdre added.

“No less the tournaments you have won,” Malvina said. Brigid flicked a glance to Burke, then studied her hands once more.

Burke almost agreed to the meal, seeing no way clear of that obligation, when a wicked thought came to him. He wanted, after all, to have an audience with a woman deemed no better than a servant.

Which meant he should require a servant’s assistance.

And there was one matter requiring aid that would fit
Burke’s agenda perfectly. It could be no coincidence that ’twould be a reasonable request at this point.

Burke scanned his mud-spattered chausses and creased tabard with apparent ruefulness, then met his host’s regard. “I fear that I am in no condition to come to the board, Lord Cedric. Indeed, I have ridden hard these three days and nights to reach Kiltorren.”

“In haste for a bride,” Deirdre breathed, her eyes gleaming.

Cedric snapped his fingers. “We shall summon you a bath while you see to your steed. ’Twill all be ready when you return to the hall. And still there will be plenty of time for our repast.”

“A fine idea,” Burke declared. “However, I have one concern.”

“What is it?”

“You may have anything in our power to give,” Deirdre declared.

“Your wish,” Malvina contributed huskily, “is our command.”

No doubt the girl thought her expression beguiling. Burke would not be the one to tell her otherwise. He cleared his throat and looked back to Cedric. “I lost my squire last year and have not yet had the heart to replace him. Is there someone in your household who might aid me with my hauberk?”

“The ostler is able,” Cedric declared heartily, but Deirdre jabbed her elbow into his side. He looked at her, clearly startled, but she smiled for Burke.

“Husband dear, ’twould hardly be fitting for one of common birth to aid a knight as esteemed as our guest.” Her smile broadened in that predatory way Burke already knew to beware. “Sadly, sir, there are none of noble lineage in our keep save ourselves.” She stepped back with a grand gesture that encompassed her children. “Either of my daughters would be pleased to aid you.”

“Mother!” Malvina protested immediately.

Brigid looked as if she might faint.

And Burke was not so much of a fool that he did not see Deirdre’s true intent. She should never have suggested that a maiden of the house aid a knight in his bath, but clearly desperation had driven her to extremes.

Aye, if he accepted this offer, Deirdre would claim whichever daughter he chose had been compromised by being alone in the bath with him, thereby forcing Burke’s hand.

Burke did not intend to play that game.

And he truly did not wish to have
Deirdre’s
aid in his bath.

“Dear lady, your offer is most generous,” he said smoothly. “However, I would not risk sullying the reputation of either of these maidens, nor would I expect you to lend your hand to such menial labor.” He forced his voice to remain level, even as he hastened to make his suggestion. “Was that not your niece here at the gates just moments past?”

Deirdre’s smile reappeared. “Perfect!” she declared, then nodded to Burke. “She is just the one to aid you. It shall be done.”

With no concern for Alys’s honor at all. Burke instinctively knew they would not consider Alys compromised for having aided him in the bath. He gritted his teeth and hoped none could tell.

Deirdre curtsied low, then glared at her daughters when they did not immediately follow in kind. Two clumsy curtseys were executed, then Deirdre grabbed her daughters by the elbows and marched them back to the hall. Her tirade of admonition was too low for Burke to hear the words, but he could well guess the content.

“Women,” Cedric mused, then beamed at Burke. “Marvelous creatures, are they not?”

Some are, Burke thought, and with that he headed off to the stables.

lys’s anger deserted her as quickly as it had arisen, leaving her feeling like a naive fool. She, of all people, should have known the price of believing a man’s sweet lies, for she lived it every day. She swept the kitchen floor and fought against the weight of her disappointment.

Aunt Deirdre, of course, was quick to gloat.

“Alys!” Aunt’s shrill call echoed through the kitchen, setting each and every servant there to grimacing. Even the goats bleating in the bailey fell silent momentarily.

“Have you heard the news?” Aunt asked none in particular. “Burke de Montvieux has come to choose between my daughters for his bride.” She smiled. “Clearly he is a knight of discerning eye.”

Or he has lost his eyesight completely, Alys thought.

“How may we aid you, my lady?” Cook asked politely.

“ ’Tis my niece I would summon.” Aunt’s smile turned cold as she surveyed Alys. “Our guest knight would bathe. Naturally, a man of such nobility could not be aided by one of common lineage, and he has no squire with him.” A smirk tugged at the older woman’s lips as she surveyed Alys. “He has requested
your
aid.”

“Mine?” Alys blinked, but Aunt merely smiled more broadly. Alys heard Cook catch his breath and Edana gasp, even as she
stepped forward to argue. “But, Aunt, I cannot aid a knight at his bath! ’Twould be completely inappropriate!”

But her aunt looked untroubled. “Should it be any consolation to you, Burke showed tremendous concern when Malvina impulsively offered to aid him.” Aunt dispatched a smile around the room, no doubt granting Alys time to accustom herself to this new and unwelcome task. “He was most chivalrous in expressing concern for her maidenly modesty, no less for her reputation. Indeed, I believe he fancies her.”

Then Aunt’s gaze locked with Alys’s own. “ ’Tis telling that he recalled you only when I confessed our lack of servants with noble blood. Then he
specifically
requested your aid.”

Alys was startled that Burke should treat her so shamelessly, but Aunt ignored her and spun to leave, her kirtle flaring out behind her. She paused on the threshold and glanced back, her eyes glittering.

“Perhaps the man has need of more than a bath,” Lady Kiltorren declared. “ ’Tis clear enough that he knows how to have his needs satisfied discreetly, no less who should fulfill them.”

Aunt would not, Alys told herself. She
could
not.

But Aunt did. Worse, she punctuated her demand with a piercing look to her niece. “I told you before, Alys, that what was bred in the bone would out in the flesh, and here you have the proof of it. The daughter of a whore should ply her mother’s trade without undue difficulty. See that our esteemed guest is not disappointed, Alys, or I shall be very
disappointed in
you.”

With that, Aunt was gone.

Alys’s mouth worked in silence for a moment, so great was her anger. ’Twas one matter that Burke desired her, yet quite another that her guardian would endorse his lust!

“I will not do it!” she cried.

The silence in the kitchen was deafening, then Cook began
to dice parsley with a vengeance. He was a tall and muscular man, as bald as an egg. “Nay? Then what will you do?”

His question made Alys pause to think. To defy Aunt was not without consequence, and she cursed Burke thoroughly for putting her in such a quandary. Alys hauled buckets from the corner, filling them before she could change her mind.

“I shall do Aunt’s bidding and give this knight the bath he demands, no more and no less.” Alys splashed water on the floor in her annoyance, but she did not care. “I will not roll to my back for any man before I am wed, be he knight or knave!

“Burke de Montvieux will have neither what he expects nor even what he wants of me.” Alys ladled water grimly. “Indeed, ’tis time the man knew exactly what I think of his deeds,” she declared as the staff in the Kiltorren’s kitchen cheered.

The bathing chamber was a warm room, situated as it was behind the bread ovens set in one wall of the kitchen. Those ovens seemed to radiate heat long after the bread was finished baking, and Alys had always thought her grandfather’s design most clever. ’Twas not unpleasant that the room always smelled of fresh bread.