Queen of Lost Stars (Dragonblade Series/House of St. Hever) (18 page)

With that, she walked from the hall with Nicholas and Mavia in tow. Kaspian and Thomas watched the group leave before reclaiming their seats at the table, now vacated for the most part. It was just the two of them. Kaspian broke his bread apart and dipped it in his cooling stew.

“You have no qualms about Nicholas being so attentive to your wife?” Kaspian asked Thomas.

The knight seemed more interested in his food. “Mavia is easily flattered but it means nothing,” he said. “She will pine over him for a while and she may even dream about it, but it is a passing fancy. I know my wife well enough to know that she isn’t capable of anything more.”

Kaspian grunted. “If Nicholas turned his attention on my wife the way he has turned his attention on yours, I would kill him.”

“That must mean you have noticed the way he has looked at Lady l’Ebreux.”

Kaspian shoved bread into his mouth. “I will not be as tolerant of him as you are.”

Thomas didn’t see the issue, to be truthful. Or perhaps, it was more that he really didn’t much care. He and Mavia were married, and had been for almost ten years, and their existence these days was more companionship than anything else. There wasn’t any real affection there and hadn’t been for a very long time. Therefore, Mavia’s passing flirtation with Nicholas didn’t disturb him.

At least, it didn’t disturb him until Ewan came to him later that night, when both were on guard, and mentioned that there was a rumor going about that Nicholas had been seen passionately kissing Mavia near the stables sometime before dinner, which meant Thomas had supped with a man who had taken advantage of his wife. More than having his feelings hurt, Thomas felt some humiliation if such a thing was true. Confronting Mavia when he went to bed later that night had only brought tears and a staunch denial.

As Thomas listened to his wife rage at the ridiculousness of such a rumor, he began to realize that it wasn’t a rumor at all. He could see right through Mavia’s hysteria.

Rumors usually had a seed of truth.

After that, he vowed to keep a close eye on the pair.

CHAPTER NINE

T
he washerwoman couldn’t
seem to get the wine stain out of Mavia’s yellow brocade gown. She had scrubbed and scrubbed until her hands were raw, but a faint stain remained. Madelayne had been in the kitchen conversing with the cook when she heard the washerwoman complain loudly about the stubborn spot. Strolling out into the kitchen yard, Madelayne took a try at removing the stain herself.

Since she wasn’t one of those dainty, well-bred women who were afraid to touch anything suggestive of manual labor, she worked over the tub out in the muddy yard. The sky above was bluer than it had been in weeks. At least, it looked bluer. Perhaps it was just because she was happier than she had ever been in her life, since Kaspian had announced their betrothal. Whatever the case, life was a bit brighter, a bit happier this day.

But the stain on Mavia’s gown was stubborn. After a good deal of scrubbing over the well-worn washing stones, Madelayne held it up, inspected it, and shook her head.

“’Tis not going to come clean,” she said. “Perhaps we shall dye this dress another color to cover the stain. We’ll have to ask Lady Mavia.”

The old, toothless washerwoman agreed. “A lovely indigo.”

“Indigo?”

“’Tis the only color dark enough to cover such a stain. I’ll go ask her.”

The woman waddled away and Madelayne put the gown back in the tub to give it one last try. Her long hair, gathered into a braid at the nape of her neck, fell over her shoulder and the ends splashed into the water. Exasperated, she grasped her hair with wet hands and tossed it back over her shoulder.

“Ouch!”

She had struck something with her wet hair. Turning sharply, she saw that Nicholas stood behind her, wiping his eye.

“Sir Nicholas!” she gasped. “Forgive me. I did not know you were behind me.”

He blinked his blue eyes. “No harm done,” he smiled, though his right eye stung terribly with soap. “I should not have snuck up on you as I did.”

Madelayne didn’t know what to say, so she shrugged her shoulders in a sort of forgiving gesture. “How may I assist you this day?” she asked.

He simply smiled at her, a dazzling gesture that had worked wonders with Mavia but Madelayne wasn’t impressed by it. From what she had seen the previous night, the man was someone to be wary of. Moreover, he seemed to have a habit of looking at her as if she were a bit of juicy beef and that in and of itself made her vastly uncomfortable. Therefore, she purposely kept a safe distance.

If Nicholas noticed her standoffishness, he didn’t let on. Instead, he pointed to the tub. “Do you always do the wash?” he asked.

Madelayne wiped a bit of hair from her face with the back of her hand. “Not always,” she said. “But this is Lady Mavia’s favorite gown and we cannot seem to rid it of the wine stain. I thought I would give it a try.”

“From the unfortunate accident last night?”

“Aye.”

Nicholas shook his head. “Meaning no disrespect, my lady, but does St. Hèver allow this? I cannot imagine for one moment that I would permit my intended to strain herself so over a wash tub. Lovely hands such as yours are best suited to needlework or painting.”

She lifted an eyebrow at him. “Must I explain this again?” she said. “I am chatelaine here, Sir Nicholas. I would never have my servants do anything that I myself was not prepared to do. It’s only a tub, for Heaven’s sake; it’s not as if I am plucking chickens or harvesting the fields.”

He put up his hands in supplication. “As I said, I did not mean to offend.” His clear blue eyes drifted over her, studying her long titian hair, angelic face, sweet lips. “I simply meant that a lady of such beauty and refinement should not worry over mundane things better left to servants. If you were my intended, I would make sure your feet never even touched the ground.”

Madelayne was feeling vastly uncomfortable under his scrutiny. “Kaspian allows me a free hand in my duties to accomplish things however I see fit,” she said. “Now, if there isn’t anything else, I must be about my duties.”

She turned her back on him, returning to the gown. Nicholas stood a respectful distance behind her, watching her delicious figure as she vigorously scrubbed the dress.

“I can see that you are very valuable to Kaspian,” he said. “’Tis no wonder he has agreed to marry you. I applaud his foresight.”

She didn’t like the way he had worded his phrase. She peered at him over her shoulder. “Foresight?”

“Of course. Keeping you here at Lavister Crag before some other man could whisk you away.”

“Who would want to whisk me away?”

Nicholas snorted. “Any man would. You are a beautiful woman, my lady. Or hadn’t you realized that?”

Nicholas was trying to flatter her but Madelayne would have no part of it. She turned her back on him again and continued with the gown. “I have duties to attend to, my lord. Good day to you.”

Nicholas nodded, a smile on his face. He would not push today, but another day would come when she might be more receptive to his flattery. He rather liked the fact that she wasn’t falling all over herself to please him. “There is one thing, if you do not mind,” he said. “I know it sounds strange, but I was wondering if you could have a tub brought up to my room. I’m a bit strange in that I like to bathe on occasion, at least once a week. Otherwise I smell like something that has been dead for a few days. Could you see to it?”

She nodded. “As you wish, my lord. I’ll have it brought up today.”

He walked up behind her, slowly, coming to rest beside the wash tub as she continued to rub away at the stain. He watched her red hands and laughed softly. “You know, I’ll need help bathing. Never could do my hair or my back without assistance. You seem so good at washing things that I was wondering if….”

That was as far as he got before Madelayne flared. Outraged and incensed over what he was surely about to say, she shoved him hard enough to topple him into the wash tub. The entire contraption crashed to the ground, knight, suds and all, and Nicholas found himself wallowing in soapy mud. She stood over him, as furious as a wet cat.

“That is all the washing you’ll get from me, Nicholas de Dalyn,” she seethed. “I would advise that from now on you keep your distance, else this is only a foretaste of my wrath to come. Is that clear?”

He was having trouble keeping a straight face. “Ever so, my lady.”

She spun on her heel and stormed off, as angry as she had ever been and frankly fearful of what Kaspian’s reaction would be to Nicholas’ near-suggestion. She knew such a thing would get back to him. But Nicholas clearly wasn’t worried. As she entered the kitchen, she heard the distinct sounds of his laughter.

Madelayne stormed through the kitchen and into the great hall, kicking at the dogs because they were in her way. By the time she crossed the bailey and headed into the keep, her cheeks were red with fury, something that did not go unnoticed by Mavia who was just quitting the keep.

“Madelayne!” Mavia exclaimed. “What’s the matter?”

Before she could consider that discretion was the better option at this point, in her anger she spilled out everything. Mavia paled with jealousy at the story, but Madelayne didn’t notice. She needed time to cool her fury so she marched past Mavia, up the stairs, and into the chamber she and Kaspian had shared for the better part of several weeks. He wasn’t there, as she had suspected, for he had been spending most afternoons with Dolwyd trying to regain some strength in his torso. The muscles had been badly damaged and the old man had worked out a regime for Kaspian to begin strengthening them.

It was quiet and still, the sounds of the ward far below drifting in through the lancet windows. The noise drew her and she leaned against the windowsill, gazing to the green horizon that disappeared into Wales. It was clear and cool on this day, the beauty of the land and the stillness of the chamber soothing her anger. She breathed deeply, drawing in the tranquil air. She still could not believe Sir Nicholas’ boldness and her furious reaction had been just in her opinion. Now, she needed time to regain her composure.

Time passed and she forced herself to cool. Pulling out a piece of sewing she had been working on, she sat near the window and steadily notched the tiny stitches that formed a graceful hummingbird in what would soon be a lovely shawl. It was a pretty piece she had originally meant for the baby, but now it was just something she struggled to finish. With her anger finally under control, she was actually enjoying a tranquil moment when the chamber door flew open and Kaspian, larger than life, stood in the doorway.

Madelayne’s tranquility took flight when she saw his expression. He glared at her, the posture of his body indicating everything she needed to know before he even said it.

“What did he say to you?”

His voice rolled like thunder. Dolwyd was standing behind him, wrought with distress, and Madelayne struggled to keep her newly-gained calm.

“Nothing that would warrant his death,” she said steadily. “I believe I dealt with him quite efficiently. Now he will know where I stand on the subject.”

Kaspian was as angry as she had ever seen him and she had known the man many years. He had always been the paragon of cool. Now he looked like an enraged bull, his body thinner than it had been before his injury, but nonetheless strung with powerful muscles. He could very easily destroy. And the fact that he stood a foot and a half taller than she did only added to his aura of intimidation.

“Subject of what?” he demanded. “Madelayne, I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”

Madelayne knew that Mavia had gone right to her husband with what she had been told and Thomas had rightly passed the information on to Kaspian. There was no telling what had been lost in translation. Swishing her hand at Dolwyd in a vacating motion, the old man obediently quit the chamber and shut the door. Madelayne put her hands on Kaspian’s chest and attempted to push him toward the bed.

“Please, sit down,” she instructed. “You look as if you are ready to explode.”

He grasped the hands on his chest and refused to move. “Tell me now, Madelayne. No more delays. What did de Dalyn say to you that caused you to throw a tub at him?”

She sighed. “I did not throw a tub at him. I pushed him into it.”

“Why?”

“Because he asked me to help him bathe.”

Kaspian stared at her. In the next moment, he was moving for the door like a man possessed and Madelayne threw her arms around his neck, dragging on him like an anchor.

“Nay!” she pleaded. “Kaspian, you are not strong enough to take him on yet and I’ll not bury another husband!”

His jaw was grinding. “I’m strong enough and you’ll not bury me any time soon.” He was at the door with her draped down his body. “Let go, Madelayne. I must teach Nicholas a lesson he’ll not soon forget.”

“You do not need to,” she refused to let go and he wasn’t pulling her away, not yet. “I won’t let you fight him, Kaspian. I swear I’ll jump into the middle of it and you’ll not be able to make a good go at him.”

He glared down at her. “You would protect him?”