Defy Not the Heart (13 page)

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Authors: Johanna Lindsey

BOOK: Defy Not the Heart
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T
heo! What means this?”

“Reina, thank God!”

Entering her chamber and finding the boy trussed up in the corner was not at all what she had expected. “Do you tell me you have been like this since I left?” she asked incredulously.

“Nay, Wenda found me yestermorn and untied me. We took the letter left here to Sir William, still bedfast but no longer delirious. But when he read the letter aloud, I—I was so afraid for you I meant to go after you. Sir William refused, but Aubert, that scurrilous cur, caught me trying to go anyway last eventide and ordered this. I will kill him when I get my hands on him,” Theo vowed.

“Nay, you certainly will not,” Reina said sternly, but failed to keep a grin from appearing as she began to untie him. “You silly boy, what did you think you could do? Do I look as if I suffered from my little adventure? I was in no real danger, which you should have realized. I am too valuable to kill until
after
I am wed.”

“How could I know that when ’twas
him
who took you?” he demanded.

“Well, as to that, he is not so terrible after all. He brought me back, did he not?”

“Aye, but wed to him,” Theo groaned.

“How did you know that?”

The boy’s eyes turned into perfect circles. “I was but jesting!”

“But I am not.”

“Reina!” he cried. “How could you? You know how I felt about him!”

“Are you jealous, my dear?”

“Well—no, I guess not,” he admitted thoughtfully. “If I cannot have him, you might as well. But
him
, Reina? Were you given no choice?”

“Not much, but if anyone had to be browbeaten into marriage, ’twas he,” she said matter-of-factly. “I was not taken for him, you see, but for an old lord who hired him. He was not easy to convince he should have me instead.”

“You mean you
wanted
him?”

“’Twas either him or the old lord.” This needed no further explanation. “Now help me change and quickly. I cannot leave him alone for long with my vassals.”

“What did
they
say about this sudden marriage?”

“They do not know, nor are they to know, so you do not tell anyone what I have told you, not even Wenda. There would have to be a second wedding for their benefit anyway, so I mean to let them think the second is the first. I will tell them Ranulf has agreed to wed me and ’tis he I want. That way, they will not harbor doubts about why I wed him, thinking I was somehow forced to it even though I would say not. That could only lead to distrust of him, which I do not want.”

“But if you would like to get rid of him, Reina, now is the time, ere you tell Lord Simon you want the giant.”

“But I do want him, Theo. I have thought it
through and he is actually the better man for Clydon. John and Richard could neither of them devote themselves exclusively to Clydon, but Ranulf Fitz Hugh will. He has no land of his own, no family he will claim, no other obligations to take him away from protecting us. And he is not poor. He will see to all that needs doing, that I have been unable to do.”

“So Clydon will love him, but what about you?”

Reina looked away. “Once he set his mind to do it, he made sure it could not be undone. Whether I regret my decision remains to be seen.”

“How was it?” Theo grinned now.

She knew what he referred to, and gave him a glare for daring to ask. “None of your business.”

“Come on, Reina,” he wheedled, his grin widening. “Tell me what I missed.”

“If you must know, ’twas rough and quick.”

“Oh, now I
am
jealous.” He sighed.

“Lackwit,” she snorted derisively. “It takes me longer to piss, so you cannot tell me you like it
that
quick. Now stop teasing me or you will find your ears boxed.”

 

Reina had wanted to wear her best for this important conference with Simon and John, but Theo pointed out she would need her best for the wedding, so she settled on her second best, a crimson velvet bliaut with loose bell-shaped sleeves that were shorter in the front to reveal the closely fitted long sleeves of her undertunic, a bright yellow chemise, revealed also beneath the deep V of the bliaut’s neckline and at the sides where the gown was left open up to her thighs. Her girdle was golden links that hooked just below her waist to hang down to her knees.

And for this occasion, Theo talked her into wearing her hair plaited over her shoulders, the braids wrapped tightly with yellow ribbon, the short white headdress covering little. Reina felt the braids made her look younger, which she did not want just now, but Theo disagreed, swearing she had never looked lovelier. Vanity won out, something she did not succumb to often. Theo made sure she realized it, claiming that since her vassals knew her well and would not be affected one way or the other by how she looked, she was in truth dressing only for her new husband, which was natural and as it should be.

Whether Reina agreed with that or not, she could not deny she seemed somehow prettier than usual. Her costly glass mirror, which gave a much clearer image than polished steel, said so; Theo said so; and who was she to argue with the adage that a husband well pleased with his wife’s appearance was a man easier to deal with. It was worth finding out if it was true, for Ranulf Fitz Hugh was no doubt
displeased
that it was taking her so long to return to him.

She found him deep in a discussion of crop rotation with Simon and John, a subject he seemed to find fascinating. So much for his displeasure at her long absence. He obviously was no longer worried about letting her out of his sight, and she was of a mind not to make her presence known at all, to retreat back the way she had come. There were other things that needed doing, and she was a fool to attach so much importance to one man’s anxieties, be they natural or not.

But before she could slip away, John noticed her and greeted her, and she put on a smile as the other two men then turned to her. That she could see no
reaction to her appearance at all from her husband deflated her even more, though she was too adept at concealing her feelings to show it.

“Do not let me interrupt your conversation, gentlemen. I only stopped to let you know I have not forgotten you. There are a few more things I should see to ere I join you.”

Ranulf opened his mouth to protest her leaving again, but Simon beat him to it. “My lady, please. You know I am a patient man most times, but not when my curiosity has been aroused. Do you tell us what has happened to change your mind about young de Lascelles.”

She looked at Ranulf with wide-eyed innocence. “You did not tell them? Fie on you, sir. Did you think they would doubt you?” After getting in those licks that he could not possibly answer, she felt vindicated in her disappointment that he had not even noticed her improved appearance and turned back to address her vassals with an explanation. “My acquaintance with Sir Ranulf may be of short duration, but sufficient to conclude that he is the man best suited to Clydon and myself.”

“He wants to wed you?” John Radford asked without much surprise.

“He has agreed to wed me,” Reina clarified. “Actually, it took some convincing to get him to see the benefits to himself. He was reluctant because he comes landless, though he has the means to buy a fine estate does it please him to do so. That he is sworn to no other lord is what makes him ideally suited to Clydon.”

“So this was your idea?”

Her expression gave truth to the lie. “Aye, mine.
After considering all aspects, and finding naught that you might object to, I went ahead and offered Sir Ranulf contract, which he approved.
Is
there any reason you might be reluctant to accept him as your liege lord when you know him to be the man I have chosen?”

Put that way, and in that particular tone, if there were any objections, they would not be voiced now. She had quick assurances from both men that Sir Ranulf was acceptable to them.

“Think you my other vassals will feel the same?” she put to Simon.

“I do not see why not. They are as aware as we of the urgency in getting you wed quickly—to a man your father would have approved of.”

“Good, because I have already sent messengers off to summon them and Sir Henry. The wedding will take place as soon as all are gathered. And yes, Simon, my father would have found much to admire and respect in Sir Ranulf. You knew him well, and know he valued honesty, honor, strength, and ability, above all things. Sir Ranulf’s strength and ability cannot be in doubt, and I have had firsthand experience of his honesty and honor. My father would have been well pleased.”

That more than anything settled their minds to the matter, and the rest of the evening went by smoothly, especially since she invited Sir Walter to the lord’s table again, which seemed to put Ranulf at ease and made for lively conversation. The man really was never at a loss for words.

But there was a moment after supper when Simon managed to corner her with his one remaining con
cern. “Are you certain, my lady? You have not let that pretty face of his sway you in your judgment?”

She had to laugh at this. “Come now, Simon, you know me better than that. Would I let a man’s looks come before what was best for Clydon? I do not delude myself that ’tis me Sir Ranulf covets. He succumbed to the same inducements John or Richard would have succumbed to had I put the offer to them instead. Love and infatuation have no place in forming alliances, and neither influenced me in choosing Ranulf over anyone else. He is strong, able—”

“Strong? The man is a giant, my lady, if you have not noticed.”

She chuckled at his expression of awe. “Aye, he is that. You should have seen how quickly he sent de Rochefort’s men fleeing for their lives, killing half of them ere they could escape. He will do you well do you need him, Simon. You need have no unease on that score. But more important, he will be available do you need him, not off seeing to other estates that have naught to do with Clydon.”

Simon was well satisfied after that, but then Reina had her last difficulty of the day to face, the sleeping arrangements. Left alone with Ranulf at last, she could no longer avoid it. She had to put him in the lord’s chamber, since Simon always had the west tower chamber when he was at Clydon, and he had already gone off to retire there. The lord’s chamber was now appropriate for Ranulf. She just would not be sharing it with him yet.

Of course, that would doubtless relieve him, rather than annoy him. That she suspected it might annoy him was only because of what he had said that morn about wanting her to disrobe for him—that it could
wait until tonight. In all likelihood, he would have forgotten that by now. But just in case he had not, she had prepared what she would say. Whether he would accept it or not was what had her worried.

She forestalled him when he was about to speak, now that they were alone before the hearth. “Do you come with me, my lord.”

A servant waited at the bottom of the stairwell to light the way. Lanzo had earlier been directed where to place Ranulf’s armor, which had been removed just after he arrived, save his sword. The lad was waiting in the antechamber, half asleep on a pallet there, though he perked up as they entered.

“Wait until you see this place, Ranulf!” Lanzo said enthusiastically. “’Tis like a treasure room.”

Reina smiled as she led the way into the larger room. Both chambers were well prepared and brightly lit with numerous candlestands.

“These are some of the treasures my father won in Cyprus,” she explained, indicating the finely woven Turkish rug that covered a goodly portion of the floor, and two huge tapestries of foreign design. “Had you heard that the king stopped there to successfully conquer the island?”

“Nay, what happens far from England has never concerned me overmuch,” Ranulf replied absently.

This time she smiled to herself, for he was frankly overwhelmed by the amenities the chamber supplied. The four-poster bed was large and curtained in rich blue velvet with the de Champeney coat of arms hung above it. In the two thick outer walls there was a personal privy, flushed by a cistern on the roof to keep down the smell; two deep window embrasures with seats covered in ermine pelts; and an aumbry,
which was a cupboard recessed in the wall to store valuables, this one large enough that her parents had used it as a wardrobe for their expensive formal clothes.

There were numerous clothes chests for everyday wear, as well as a large one with a lock for valuables, this one containing only the precious gold plates, exotic oils, and jewel-encrusted chalices from the Holy Land. A like chest was in her own chamber with her family’s important documents, silver plate, rich cloth she had got from the merchants of Birkenham, her costly spices, and what few jewels and money remained.

The hooded fireplace was cold, since the tapestries and rugs kept down the drafts in this room. There was a rare chair placed before it, like the two at the lord’s table below, a large fur rug, several stools, and a small table, at the moment set with a jug of wine. The large tub had been pulled out from where it was kept screened in the corner and was filled with water. Steam could still be seen rising from it. Thick drying cloths sat on a stool next to it with a fresh cake of imported, sweet-scented soap, also gotten from her Birkenham merchants.

“Do you—do you wish my assistance with your bath?” Fortunately, she sounded nervous enough about it that he shook his head, giving her the opening she needed to leave. “Then I bid you good night, my lord.”

She was gone before he realized that was her intention. She thought she would escape that easily, but she was wrong. He stopped her just before her own door, his deep rumble no doubt waking those women already asleep in the women’s quarters between them.

“What means this, lady?”

She waited until he had reached her at the end of the passageway before replying. “Surely no explanation is needed. You sleep there, I sleep here—until we are wed.”

“We
are
wed,” he reminded her with a frown.

“But no one here knows that, my lord, and you did agree to that. Would you cause a stir that would besmirch my honor when in only a few days we will be wed again?”

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