Susan Spencer Paul (22 page)

“Hugo!” she cried, and lost no time in running to him and throwing herself into his open arms.

“Rosaleen! What in heaven’s holy name—”

“Ah! You have gained entrance at last,” came a solemn yet familiar voice. “I was beginning to wonder at
what kind of people Hugh has taken to himself. Who is that sobbing female you’ve got, Hugo? It is never the lady Rosaleen, is it?”

“I fear it is,” his brother replied, hugging Rosaleen with one arm and stroking her uncovered head with his other hand. “Though I cannot imagine why she is so distraught. Perhaps you’d best ask some of these people where Hugh is.”

Justin Baldwin tossed his unsheathed sword from one hand to the other and moved farther into the great hall, where every man had drawn his own weapon.

“Where is your lord, Hugh Baldwin?” Justin shook his head as if to clear it. “I mean, Hugh Caldwell.”

“He is gone,” Christian answered, eyeing him with distrust. “Who are you and why have you come to Briarstone? And what have you done to the men out-ofdoors?”

“Gone!” Justin repeated with disgust. “He would be, damn him! This man—” he indicated Hugo, who was at that moment wiping the tears from Rosaleen’s face with the hem of his sleeve “—is Father Hugo Baldwin, and I am Sir Justin Baldwin of Gyer. We are brothers to your lord. If you believe me not, all you need do is look at Father Hugo to see that he is Hugh Baldwin’s…I mean, Hugh Caldwell’s twin. We have come to Briarstone at his invitation, and what we have done with the men out-of-doors is subdue them, else they would have brought great harm upon themselves.” He took a few more careful steps closer. “And now that I have answered your questions, sir, I would ask a few of my own. What in God’s name do you mean by attacking every man who comes through your gates in peace? Have you no better sense than that?”

“Justin, please!” Rosaleen demanded, having got herself under control. “Keep your peace and do not press
him. This is Christian Rowsenly, and Hugh left him in charge of Briarstone and bade him protect me against any stranger who passed our gates.”

Eyeing Christian consideringly, Justin said, after a moment, more politely, “My pardon, sir. I mispoke. None outside have been harmed, I vow. They have only been kept from harming themselves against the soldiers of the Lord of Gyer’s army.”

Nodding, Christian said, “That is well. If you are, in truth, Hugh Caldwell’s brothers, then you are welcome at Briarstone, though we did not expect you. Hugh Caldwell said it was his eldest brother, the Lord of Gyer, who would come.”

Justin frowned deeply.

“We left Gyer two days past, and my eldest brother made no mention of journeying to Briarstone. Why should he have sent us with half his army if he himself had planned on coming?”

It was Rosaleen who answered.

“I believe I can explain what has happened.” She looked at Hugo. “If you and Sir Justin and Christian will come with me to a place more private, sir, I vow I have a plan that will make all well.”

“T
here, now, my dear. That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

Rosaleen’s hand was shaking so badly she had barely managed to make her signature legible. She stared at the document before her almost in disbelief until her uncle began to slide it off the table.

The tip of a sword came down upon the parchment, stilling its movement.

“Until the signatures have been duly acknowledged,” Justin Baldwin stated, “the document remains where it is.”

Sir Anselm made a sound of impatience.

“Rosaleen, have you not yet explained to this insolent whelp who I am and of my rank among the nobles? Why does he continue to behave with such foolish disregard?”

“Don’t anger Sir Justin, Uncle Anselm,” she advised wearily. “Please leave him be.”

But he wouldn’t keep quiet and kept berating the solemn younger man until Rosaleen placed both hands over her ears to shut out the sound of him.

She felt so weary. From the moment she had arrived in London the night before with Hugo and Justin and half the army of Sir Alexander Baldwin, so many events had happened, one right after the other, that Rosaleen’s unhappy mind had had no chance to rest.

Some great celebration had been planned for this morn, so that the king, having been informed of her arrival and of her urgent desire to see him, had refused her an audience, claiming that he was far too busy seeing to the many details surrounding the celebration. He had sent his apologies and his assurances that he would see her the following afternoon, and then he had ordered her to be taken away to a private chamber at the farthest end of the castle without even inviting her to attend whatever the important celebration was.

She had found herself with only Hugo and Justin for company, cut off from the rest of the king’s household and from all the revelers. Which had been just as well, in truth, for the last thing Rosaleen had felt like doing was celebrating, especially when she hadn’t the faintest idea what the celebration was for. It was not a feast day or any kind of holy day; she could only assume that the celebrated event was a personal one, such as a marriage or knighting. Why she, the heiress of Siere and one of the highest personages in the land, had been excluded from the revelry was a mystery, for her presence would have been seen as a great honor to those involved.

And yet, the long evening had not passed unpleasantly. Justin and Hugo had left her to rest for an hour, and when they had returned to share her evening meal, they had brought with them some unexpected guests.

The first of these had been their sister, Candis, who had been at court for several months with her elder brother Willem. She was a tiny, delicately lovely creature with billowy auburn curls and enormous hazel eyes, which were so captivating they caused people to stare at her quite against their will. The lady Candis Baldwin reminded Rosaleen of a golden butterfly, for she floated on her tiny little feet as though she never touched the earth and was in constant
motion, fluttering from one moment to the next and from one entertaining topic to another. Rosaleen could only imagine how many hundreds of men had been felled by her sweet charm and exquisite beauty.

The next of Rosaleen’s unexpected guests was Sir Willem Baldwin, a very tall, very handsome, very shy man whose dark hair and deep brown eyes reminded her of Justin, just as Alexander Baldwin’s dark hair and green eyes reminded her of Hugh and Hugo.

“Willem’s going to be married very soon!” Candis announced brightly, just as Rosaleen had finished greeting him, and Willem blushed a deep red.

“What!” Hugo demanded, while Justin simply frowned thoughtfully at his elder brother.

Sir Willem dropped Rosaleen’s hand, which he’d been holding quite properly during their introduction. “N-no,” he stammered. “Candis is mistaken. I’m not to be wed.”

“He most certainly is!” Candis insisted, though she spoke like one confiding great secrets. “Lady Gwynneth Worley went to the king and demanded Willem’s hand in marriage. She claims he behaved freely with her in the gardens one eve, and now he must wed her as recompense.”

“Why, Willem, you old rascal,” Justin murmured with the slightest of smiles.

“There was naught…naught of import that happened between Lady Gwynneth and myself,” Willem insisted, clearly mortified. “She had lost a piece of jewelry in the gardens and asked me to help her search for it. That was all. Nothing happened.”

“That may be as it is, Willem,” Candis said, “but the king has said he will consider Lady Gwynneth’s request. Would it not be the most wonderful thing if you were to wed with her?” Candis turned to chatter at Rosaleen. “She
is the most beautiful lady and has been chasing after our dear Willem for such a long time.”

Sir Willem looked so embarrassed that for a moment Rosaleen thought he might bolt out the chamber door, and she felt terribly sorry for him.

“Stop teasing your brother, young lady. You’ve more than enough difficulty of your own, picking and choosing from amongst all those peacocks who follow you about, preening for your attentions. At least Willem has the sense not to make a spectacle of himself.”

This reprimand came from one of the last of Rosaleen’s surprise guests. Hugo and Justin had happily discovered that their Aunt Leta and her husband, Sir Terence Simonton, were also at court, a fact neither of them had been aware of when they’d first gone searching for Willem and Candis.

And so Rosaleen had found herself surrounded by Hugh’s relatives for the better part of the evening.

The Baldwins were a lively family, and Rosaleen did more listening than talking during the meal they shared as the family members, save Terence Simonton, who seemed to be content to simply gaze at his wife as though she were an angel come from heaven. All took turns telling jokes and stories as they caught one another up on the recent events in their lives. Occasionally, Rosaleen found herself grinning at some of their humorous tales, though she could not seem to make her heavy heart lighten any further than that. When the conversation turned toward her, and when Aunt Leta and Candis began demanding the latest news of Hugh, Rosaleen nearly thought she would have to excuse herself. The memories of her last meeting with Hugh were too fresh, too painful, but she put a grip of iron on her emotions and replied to their questions as best she could.

“They love him and serve him well and willingly,” she answered when Aunt Leta asked how the vassals of Briarstone served Hugh. “He is a skilled leader. It is something born in him, I think, for such ability as he possesses cannot be learned. He could easily manage an estate ten times larger than Briarstone, or several estates of much larger size, and I truly believe each and every one of the vassals and serfs who worked for him would love him just as fervently as the people of Briarstone do. He is not one of these dull, weak lordlings who live like leeches off the sweat of their servants’ labors. Every day he goes and works beside his people, laboring with them from the morn until the time the sun sets. For this they give him due reverence and honor and would be glad to do anything for him, even to die.”

“God’s mercy!” Candis said with a laugh. “That doesn’t sound like our Hugh! I cannot imagine him wishing to do such hard work. It seems he has grown to be like you, Hugo. We shall have to begin calling him ‘Saint Hugh.’“

“But you said that you have overseen the household of Briarstone these past three months, Lady Rosaleen,” Willem said timidly. “Surely your contributions have been just as great as Hugh’s in making Briarstone successful. Perhaps even greater.”

Rosaleen lowered her eyes to stare at the deep red wine waving gently in her goblet. “It is a strange thing,” she said softly, “but Hugh has often said something much like that in the past months. He would claim that I am the one responsible for the improvements at Briarstone, and perhaps that is a little true, for I did fight to make him accept that loan from your brother, but it is not entirely right. I realized only a few days past how unnecessary I have become to Briarstone, how unnecessary I am to him. Any of
my ladies could oversee the household quite easily, and will do so now that I have left. All they truly need is Hugh’s guiding hand and they will be able to succeed. One day, I vow, Briarstone will be returned to its former greatness, as in the days of William the Conqueror, and Hugh Caldwell will be master of one of the finest estates in the land.”

“But I do not understand,” Candis said. “You speak of leaving Briarstone, yet are not you and Hugh to be wed?”

Rosaleen drew in a sharp breath, but it wasn’t enough to keep two unruly tears from spilling over her cheeks.

“Candis, be silent!” Justin demanded angrily.

Too miserable to care what her guests thought of her behavior, Rosaleen stood. “I pray you will excuse me…”

A loud pounding at the door interrupted her, followed by the bellowing of a well-known voice. A moment later Uncle Anselm strode into the room, shoving aside the two frightened servants who tried to keep him out. The surprise on his face when he came to a quick halt showed plainly that he hadn’t expected to find anyone other than Rosaleen there.

His expression changed from one of fury to one of instant concern, and when he made to take Rosaleen in his arms as though he were relieved to finally have found her, Rosaleen backed away with as much horror and disgust as though he were some kind of demon.

All of the men in the room had stood when Uncle Anselm had so suddenly intruded, and Justin proposed tossing him right back out, a comment that had outraged Uncle Anselm thoroughly.

“Do these people not know who I am, my darling?” he asked Rosaleen in a sickly loving tone that had turned her stomach. “Tell them I am your uncle, who is so grateful to have finally found you safe and well, and ask them to leave so that we may have our reunion in private.”

This suggestion elicited a very crude word from Justin, who had drawn his sword at the sight of the five big brutes who’d followed Uncle Anselm into the chamber. Justin’s word in turn made Candis cover her ears and incited both Aunt Leta and Hugo to deliver a short sermon. Willem, on the other hand, agreed with Justin and promptly told Uncle Anselm in less than gentle terms that he might take himself off to roast in hell. Terence Simonton, one of the king’s most politic legates, wondered aloud whether the king had been informed of Uncle Anselm’s arrival in London.

When the situation threatened to turn into a brawl, Rosaleen brought all of the angry words to a halt by announcing that she did indeed wish to speak alone with her uncle and would do so at once in her bedchamber if those assembled would please wait outside until they had finished.

Every single one of the Baldwins present, as well as Sir Terence, had refused to allow this, but Rosaleen had held firm, and when she marched into her bedchamber, Uncle Anselm obediently followed. Ten minutes later he and his men left her rooms quietly and peaceably, and Rosaleen had settled down to entertain her guests once more.

They had questioned her regarding what had passed between her uncle and her during those ten minutes, but Rosaleen had politely refused to speak of it. She never wanted to speak of the man again, and after today, she never wanted to see him again.

“I do not approve of this, Rosaleen,” Justin said now, his voice forcing its way into her covered ears, “and there is still time to retract it before the priest arrives to witness the signatures.”

“No,” she whispered. “It’s done now. Let us speak of it no more, else the knowledge will kill me! It’s done, and that is all.”

“Yes, it is quite done, my dear,” Uncle Anselm agreed. “You must be glad and think of it no longer.”

Justin wasn’t satisfied. “If Hugh knew of this, my lady, he would be furious. He would force you to strike your name from that damned document.”

Tears welling in her eyes, Rosaleen mutely shook her head.

“I tell you he would! Why will you not listen to reason?”

“You foolish
boy,”
said Uncle Anselm. “Can you not see that your words fall on deaf ears? Leave her be, and cease speaking of this bastard brother of yours. Has he not given her enough misery? Does she not already have reason to hate him in the coming years for what he has done to her?”

“No!” Rosaleen shouted, her body trembling with rage.

Justin’s reaction was more expected. He looked steadily at Sir Anselm and asked, very calmly, “You would slander my brother’s name so openly?”

Laughing, Sir Anselm eyed Justin with scorn. “I would slander your bastard brother in
public,
boy.”

“For these words,” Justin stated, “I must kill you.” Lifting his sword, he proceeded to suit action to word.

“No, Justin!” Rosaleen set a restraining hand on his shoulder and glared at her surprised uncle. “I told you not to make him angry! I told you to leave him be! Why can you never,
never
listen?”

“He wouldn’t dare to kill me,” Uncle Anselm replied with confidence, though he regarded Justin as though he were an unstable substance. “I’m a peer of the realm.”

Justin frowned at the man. “No, I must kill you. You have insulted a member of my family beyond reason, and as a knight who has taken vows before God, I must fulfill my duty. Rosaleen, you stand over there by the wall and I’ll try not to make too great a mess.”

“Please, Justin,” Rosaleen began, stopping when the sound of loud cheers came floating up from the streets and through the open window. Distracted, she said, “Listen to the crowds. What is happening?”

“Why don’t you go find out while I finish with your uncle?” Justin suggested, trying without success to push her in the direction of the window.

She turned her attention to him once more. “Justin, I’ll not let you die for such a crime as killing a beast like my uncle. The Lord of Gyer would never forgive me.”

The door to the chamber opened, and Hugo and Candis walked in.

“The priest has arrived to witness the signatures!” Uncle Anselm said with relief. “May God be praised!”

“Is aught amiss?” Hugo asked Justin, seeing that his sword was drawn.

“Oh, Justin, Lady Rosaleen, it was the most beautiful ceremony I’ve ever seen!” Candis cried, rushing toward them with her hands clasped. “I do wish you could have been there, my lady. You would have been so proud!”