Susan Spencer Paul (11 page)

“Hugh, I
will
tell you everything,” she vowed, searching his eyes. “I promise I shall. But only if you take me to London. Once we are there and I’ve had an audience with the king, I vow by all that is holy I will explain everything to you.”

Hugh didn’t like this. He didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t like what he saw in her eyes, he didn’t like the way her voice trembled when she spoke of the things she was hiding, and he especially didn’t like the way she made him feel.

London. She was going to tell him everything, all the truth, once they reached London? No. London was where she said she didn’t wish to see him again. London was where he was going to lose her forever. She’d made that clear enough. So clear that he had spent the entire night tossing in his bed and trying to keep from thinking that the following morn would be the last time he would ever see her. Except that she had already left before the morn had come, so that she hadn’t even planned on seeing him then.

What a fool he had made of himself, asking her if she would let him visit her in London. The words had come from nowhere and had surprised him as much as they had surprised her. He had told himself afterward that he was glad she had so quickly put him in his place, for what man in his right mind would want anything to do with a shrewish female like Rosaleen no-name? She had given him a reprieve, and he was going to be grateful for it if it was the last thing he did.

He would take her to London without delay. That was what he would do. That was
exactly
what he was going to do. No one and nothing would stop him. He would take
her to London and get rid of her and never, ever look back.

“We aren’t going to London,” he said abruptly. “I’m not taking you to London, Rosaleen.”

Her eyes widened and she said, very slowly and very precisely, “What did you say, Hugh Caldwell?”

“You
are
deaf, sweeting,” he replied, pulling his hand from hers. “You are in debt to me, lady, and I intend to have payment before I take you to London. Payment in full.”

Angry color swept over Rosaleen’s face. “You wretch! I owe you naught! How dare you speak to me of payment after what I suffered at your hands when first we met!”

“What
we,”
he emphasized, “enjoyed that night at the Red Fox Inn was payment only for the money and care I spent on you while we were there. You’re still indebted to me for what I’ve done for you since.” Hugh leaned closer, looking her directly in the eye. “And I intend to collect in full, mistress. Set your mind to it.”

“You know very well I’ve no money at present to pay you,” she told him furiously. “If you would be paid, then you must wait until we achieve London.”

Hugh shook his head. “Payment first, London second. And money is the last manner in which I wish to be paid. You’ve two choices, sweeting. You can either go to the nearest inn with me and spend the next three days and nights amusing me in bed—”

Rosaleen gasped. “I’d rather die!”

“Or you can come to Briarstone and work off your obligation there.”

“What! Are you mad!”

“You aren’t the first woman to ask me that,” he admitted.

“I doubt I’ll be the last,” she said through gritted teeth. “I cannot go to Briarstone, you great fool. I
must
get to London. How many times must I tell you that? Have you no understanding at all?”

“Certainly I do,” he said happily, releasing her horse. “I understand that you’ve just made your choice. You cannot go to Briarstone, so we’ll find a comfortable inn and spend the next three days enjoying ourselves to the full. I must say, Rosaleen, as surprised as I am at your choice, I am truly pleased.” He grinned lecherously at her. “I shall greatly enjoy teaching you the many pleasures a man and woman can share.”

“Swine! I mean it when I say I would rather die than bed with you!”

Hugh lifted his eyebrows. “Then you are willing to come to Briarstone? You will work off your debt to me there?”

“How?” she asked suspiciously.

He shrugged. “From what I understand, the place is in want of governing. And if I’ve ever met a more governing female than you, Rosaleen no-name, I certainly don’t recall it. All I need you to do is organize the household, while I tend to the livestock and fields.”

That seemed easy enough, but Rosaleen didn’t trust him. “That’s all?”

Hugh laughed out loud. “What do you mean, that’s all? Running a household the size of Briarstone is sure to be no small task. It will require a little more than the skills you possess of feeding pigs, my dear.”

Rosaleen worked hard to keep a smile from her face. If he only knew how restful the task of running an insignificant fief the size of Briarstone would be to a woman who’d overseen the several estates belonging to Siere, he would
surely be surprised. But let him have his little fun for now. He would learn the truth soon enough.

“For how long will I be in service to you at Briarstone?”

A warmth lit in Hugh’s heart, and he had to turn away to keep her from seeing how glad he was.

“Three months, Rosaleen. Three months of your service in running my household, and then I will personally escort you to London.”

Three months! Rosaleen thought with distress. Three months would surely bring her uncle or Simon of Denning knocking at Briarstone’s door. And three months would be that much longer before she could lay her case before the king.

Hugh understood Rosaleen’s silence exactly for what it was, and he pressed his case.

“Three months or three days, Rosaleen. The choice is yours.”

Three months or three days.

She looked up at him, pleading, “Hugh, please…”

His heart was too full, for the first time in ten years, for him to let her go so easily.

“Three months or three days,” he repeated sternly. “Let me know now, for we’ll either go backward or forward, whatever you decide. Backward, we’ll go along to Drake, where a very comfortable inn reminds itself to me. Forward, we’ll go to Briarstone, and there we will remain, together, regardless of what we find awaiting us, for three months. Tell me your decision now, sweeting, else I’ll make it for you.”

She knew what his decision would be, for already he was straining his reins in the direction that led back to Drake.

Staring at him, meeting his eyes and wondering anew at how beautiful they were, Rosaleen gave a loud sigh.

“Forward,” she said, resigned.

Triumphant, Hugh smiled.

“To Briarstone then, my lady. To Briarstone we go.”

T
he manorhouse that Hugh Caldwell had expected to find at Briarstone didn’t exist. Standing in the place where that humble dwelling was supposed to be was instead a large, crumbling castle, which showed every evidence of having once been as fine and impressive as Castle Gyer now was. It was not as large as Gyer, certainly, and had no surrounding village to give it any significance, but it was definitely larger than what Hugh had expected. What was left of it, anyway. From this distance where he sat atop Saint, Castle Briarstone looked more like the ruins of a castle than a castle proper. There were four large towers, one at each corner of the square-built outer wall, a smaller gate tower set over the massive wooden gates at the entrance to the place, and beyond that, in what Hugh assumed must be the inner bailey, was the keep, rising above the walls and displaying an uncertain rooftop.

God’s toes, Hugh thought grimly, what had he gotten himself into? If John Rowsenly were still alive he would gladly kill him for shackling him with this…this incredible relic. Too embarrassed even to look at Rosaleen, he waited in silence for her disparagement of his new possession.

“Just look at those fields of wheat and barley!” she exclaimed with awe. “God’s mercy, Hugh Caldwell! You’re a wealthy man, or soon will be if all that land belongs to Briarstone and if it can be brought safely to harvest. And over there, look! Oats! And farther on, by the river. Is that not rye? And all those lovely, lovely oak trees, as well. Oh, it’s beautiful, Hugh. You must be most pleased.”

He’d been so busy suffering over the decaying state of his new home that he hadn’t actually looked at the rest of what he’d won. He did now and felt a surge of hopefulness. Rosaleen was right. The castle of Briarstone was a wretched mess, but the surrounding fields would have done Gyer proud. The vassals of John Rowsenly had clearly labored hard in the master’s absence, and Hugh sent up a silent prayer of thanks.

“Of course it’s beautiful,” he said to Rosaleen, adding, haughtily, “What did you expect?”

“Not this,” she replied honestly. “But it is a relief, is it not, Hugh Caldwell? Admit that you’ve been worried at what you would find.”

He laughed. “Very well, I admit it, but only to keep you from badgering me. ‘Struth, it is a relief to see that the place isn’t a full loss. But look at where we’ll be living. Not a pleasant sight, is it? The barns at Gyer
are
probably more habitable.”

Tilting her head consideringly, Rosaleen gave the keep and outer walls of Briarstone a fair appraising. They
were
in bad disrepair, and there was no denying that the next three months would require a great deal of hard work on her part, but, really, other than the year or two it would take a number of masons and carpenters to fix the actual structures, the task ahead wouldn’t be all that difficult.

“I imagine it looks worse than it is,” she stated positively. “And you needn’t worry about it, Hugh Cald
well,” she added, looking up at him. “You’re to take care of the fields and livestock. I’m the one who must worry about setting your home to rights. Remember?”

Her words stung Hugh with sharp guilt, and he wondered if he should release her from their agreement. He had believed Briarstone would be no more than a small manor with a few fields and some vassals. Rowsenly had never mentioned that the place was so big, so…vast. What could a little village girl like Rosaleen possibly know about running a castle the size of this? She would be overwhelmed and terrified when she finally realized just how great the task would be.

“Listen to me, Rosaleen,” he said kindly, “I didn’t realize the dwelling would be so large, and I certainly don’t expect you to be able to oversee it as well as someone like…well, as someone like Lillis could. You must not try to make everything perfect at once.”

Rosaleen turned her head away to keep him from seeing the smile on her face, and she bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud.

“Why, Hugh,” she managed to say, barely constraining herself, “that’s very thoughtful of you. I know my skills in organizing a household aren’t very good, but I promise I’ll do my sorry best to keep my part of our agreement.”

Hugh felt even worse. She had turned her face away to keep him from seeing how badly he’d hurt her feelings, and she sounded as if she were trying not to cry. Her breaking voice made his heart ache with remorse. Gingerly placing a hand on her shaking shoulder, he said, “Don’t feel badly about being so lacking in domestic skills, Rosaleen. I know you weren’t raised in a truly noble home. But all will be well. I’ll help as best I can, and perhaps some of the vassals can be spared from the fields to help. Once you’ve be
come used to it, you’ll find that managing a household this size is a very simple matter.”

Her shoulders shook even harder, and all she could do was nod.

“Rosaleen…” he said with real worry.

She put a hand up in the air to silence him while she struggled to control her laughter. After a moment, during which she called upon years of training to keep her expression even in every kind of circumstance, she turned to him, presenting him just exactly the flushed countenance he’d been expecting.

“Thank you, Hugh. I do feel so much better.”

“That’s a mercy,” he said. “I’d hate to have a weeping female on my hands.”

Smiling sweetly, Rosaleen returned, “Has anyone ever told you, Hugh Caldwell, that you’ve no manners?”

“Now, Rosaleen…”

“Because if they have, then they’re wrong. You do have manners. The manners of a pig.”

Hugh grinned, relieved to have her behaving normally again.

“And who would know better than you, Rosaleen, with all the experience you’ve had with such creatures?”

She grinned in turn. “The only experience I’ve had with swine, Hugh Caldwell, has been since I’ve met you. Having been in your company for so long, however, I expect I am now an authority.”

Laughing, Hugh was about to make a suitable retort, when the shrubberies surrounding them suddenly began to shake and rustle.

Hugh’s sword was unsheathed before Rosaleen could speak a word, and just in time, for the next moment found them faced by three men who’d ridden out of the bushes to flank them.

One of them, a short, plump fellow, brought his frail and bony mount to a stop in front of them.

“Halt and surren—!” he began, pulling at the sword sheathed on the belt around his waist. “Halt and surren—!” he tried again, tugging relentlessly without success. “Fiend’s foot!” he swore, taking his eyes off Hugh and Rosaleen and using both hands to pull at the stubborn weapon. “I said” he grunted, tugging, “I said, halt and surrender!” The sword swooshed free of its scabbard at last, the force of its loosing sending the man right over the side of his horse and down onto the damp earth.

“Oh dear,” said Rosaleen.

Hugh, leaning forward on Saint, peered down at where the man lay sprawled. “Hope the little fellow’s all right,” he said.

“Damn you, John!” one of his companions said angrily, moving his equally frail steed toward his friend. “I told you ter keep yer yap shut till we had ‘em good ‘n’ ready!”

The third fellow, a dirty young man, nudged his horse next to Rosaleen’s and held his sword out threateningly. Brushing his lanky blond hair out of his gray eyes with his free hand and staring at Hugh, he said quite seriously, “You. Toss down your weapon and your gold, else I cut the lady’s throat.”

Resting his own heavy sword on his knee, Hugh gazed evenly at the boy. “I don’t think so, lad. This lady is the loveliest creature you or I will ever set eyes on in this life, mostlike. No man who calls himself a man would willingly mar her perfection.”

Thinking of her uncle, who had more than willingly marred her, Rosaleen frowned. The boy, seeing her unhappy expression, swallowed loudly but held his place.

“Then…then, if you’ll not drop your sword and hand over your gold, we’ll take her and…and have our way with her!”

Hugh snorted with disbelief. “I should like to see you do it! This lady is possessed of a tongue so sharp she could easily sever you in two, lad. If you steal her it will be your life I’ll fear for, not hers.”

Drawing a shaky breath, the young man made one more attempt.

“Alan! John! Mark your swords on this fellow. Now, sir,” he addressed Hugh again, holding his sword to Rosaleen’s throat, “will you throw your weapon down, or shall we wrest it from you by force and take both your gold and the lady away with us?”

Looking with mild interest at the two men standing beside Saint, who now held their weapons pointed at him, then turning his own magnificent sword lightly in his hand, Hugh said, pleasantly, “I’ll not throw my weapon down, boy. I shall throw it up, instead.” Hefting his sword until the sharp tip of it pointed upward, he set its heavy hilt in the palm of his outstretched hand. “Watch, now,” he advised, keeping his eyes on the sword. “You’d not want to miss this.”

With a sudden, sharp movement he sent the sword flying, like an arrow, straight into the air above his head. It flew upward for several feet, then, just as surely, made a wildly spinning descent.

Everything happened so quickly after that that no one, save Hugh, was able to say how it had come about. One moment the sword was spinning dangerously through the air, and the next it was held before Rosaleen’s face, disarming the boy mounted beside her and coming to a halt just in front of his nose. At the same time, their other two
assailants found themselves knocked to the ground by a kick from Hugh’s booted foot.

Rosaleen, having shut her eyes when she’d felt the buffeting movements of Hugh’s sword in front of her face, now opened them to find the sharp edge of the sword’s blade an inch or less away. Eyes crossing from the nearness of the thing, she allowed her gaze to follow the path of the sword all the way to its end, where it held the complete attention of a thoroughly surprised and frightened boy.

The young robber held two shaking hands up in a gesture of defeat, but Hugh pressed the point of his sword toward him a little closer.

“You are fortunate,
boy,
that I’m in a good mood today,” he said sharply, his earlier tone of complacency vanished, his voice filled with suppressed anger, “else you would now find yourself singing sweetly with God’s angels. Any man who threatens a lady as you have done this day deserves to have his idiot head severed from the rest of his fool body. And should I ever, God forbid, come across your sorry carcass again and find you engaged in such an activity, I swear on my own mother’s soul I shall personally perform the separation, and without,” he promised quite clearly, “a moment’s hesitation.”

“Y-yes, my lord,” the boy whispered, leaning as far away from the sharp blade as he could.

Rosaleen was also leaning away from the blade’s edge, and found that her neck was beginning to ache.

“If you do not mind, Hugh, I believe you have quite rescued us.”

He withdrew his blade with care and slowly sheathed it.

“You and your friends may take your weapons and your horses and leave,” Hugh invited tersely. “If I ever see a
one of you near Briarstone again I shall cut your ears off. Now go.”

The short, plump man named John and the taller, lanky fellow named Alan had picked themselves up and were in the midst of dusting themselves off when he spoke these words.

“But, m’lord,” said John, surprised, “we can’t not go near Briarstone.”

“Be quiet, John!” the boy, having regained his composure, demanded.

“But ‘e’s right, Chris,” Alan put in. “Whur else would we go to? There’s nowhur else.”

“It matters not. Be quiet!”

Having listened to this short exchange, Hugh raised his eyebrows.

“Do I understand, from your words, that you live nearby?” He addressed all of them, but he looked at the boy, their apparent leader, as he spoke.

Sighing, the boy nodded.

“Yes, sir.” He shot an angry glare at his companions.

“God’s feet,” said Hugh. “We are to be neighbors. How…amusing. Still, I mean what I say. If you value your lives, keep as far from Briarstone as possible and never even think about trying to waylay travelers on my land again.”

Rosaleen wasn’t sure which of their assailants seemed more shocked at these words, though she thought perhaps it must be the boy beside her, who looked about as confounded as a person could.

“Your
land!” he repeated. “Briarstone is
your
property?
You
are Hugh Caldwell?”

And then Rosaleen realized she’d been too hasty. The most shocked being present was without a doubt Hugh Caldwell.

“This is Hugh Caldwell, in truth,” she informed them, since that man had once again lost his voice. “May we assume that you gentlemen are residents of Briarstone?”

“Gawd’s toes!” Alan swore. “Now we’ve gone and done it! We’ve ‘eld up the new master.”

“Well, it weren’t
my
idea!” protested John. “Yer the one said we was runnin’ low on supplies.” Looking at Hugh, he repeated, “It weren’t
my
idea, m’lord.”

“God’s my life, Rosaleen,” Hugh murmured in a dazed tone. “Briarstone is a den of thieves.”

Resisting the almost overpowering urge to tell him that he should feel right at home, then, she put out one hand and patted his knee assuringly. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as it seems, Hugh Caldwell. These gentlemen must have a reasonable explanation for their behavior.”

“That we do, m’lady,” Alan replied quickly, while John added, “It weren’t
my
idea!”

“If you think starving a reasonable explanation, my lady,” said the boy named Chris, glaring hotly at his new master, “then that would be it. Forgive me, my lord Caldwell, but where have you been? We’ve looked for you for more than ten days now and had nearly given up hope.”

Although he knew he should be affronted by his young vassal’s forward speech, Hugh wasn’t. One look at Rosaleen’s embarrassed expression more than made up for whatever discomfort he himself had been feeling.

“I was waylaid by a damsel in need, lad, and had to do my chivalrous duty by her.” He ignored the unladylike snort Rosaleen made. “Regardless of that, I cannot believe that anyone at Briarstone is near starving. The fields spread before us say otherwise.”