Susan Spencer Paul (23 page)

Rosaleen stared at the girl.

“Hugo, please be good enough to take Candis and Lady Rosaleen out of the room so that I can kill Sir Anselm,” Justin requested. “Five minutes should be sufficient.”

Hugo raised his eyebrows at his perfectly serious younger brother, and the familiar gesture made Rosaleen’s heart ache.

“I perceive that you’ve run up against another debt of honor, Justin,” Hugo noted calmly. “I’m sorry to be dif
ficult, but I do think that one debt of honor a week is enough.”

The chamber door opened again, admitting a beautifully dressed Aunt Leta and her handsomely dressed husband.

“What a marvelous ceremony!” Aunt Leta declared, beaming at Rosaleen as she moved farther into the room. “Never have the Baldwins had a prouder day, my dear.”

“Yes, it was quite splendid, indeed,” Sir Terence agreed.

“You will never forgive us for letting you miss it, I fear,” Aunt Leta said, “but there was no help for it, as Justin and Hugo swore us all to silence.”

Rosaleen tightened her grip on Justin, more for support than to hold him back. A dreadful premonition tingled down her spine.

“I fear I don’t…what is it you speak of?”

“God’s mercy, Rosaleen, call the boy off!” Uncle Anselm demanded when Justin began to approach him, dragging Rosaleen along.

“Justin, if you must kill the man, can you not at least wait until tomorrow morn?” Hugo asked impatiently. “We’ve not time for it now.”

“Well, perhaps,” Justin said consideringly, slowing his assault.

The chamber door opened once more, and this time it was Sir Willem who entered, along with another man dressed blindingly in white.

“Thank a merciful God that’s over!” said the man as he walked through the door. “What a cursed nightmare!”

He stopped just inside the room and stared at the sight before him.

“By the rood, what’s going on here?” he asked as he stripped the gauntlets from his hands.

And then he saw Rosaleen.

“Hugh,” she whispered with disbelief.

Hugh’s arms dropped to his sides.

“Rosaleen.”

She was so stunned by the sight of him, dressed in a suit of spotlessly shining armor robed with the whitest of pure silk, that she couldn’t even speak. He looked, she thought dumbly, grander than the king.

“How did you come to be here?” Hugh demanded. “Justin…and Hugo,” he said as he saw, with growing surprise, each of those brothers present. “Where is Alex? Never tell me he sent you in his stead.”

“Hugh,” Hugo began in a calming tone, “Justin and I traveled to Briarstone under a misconception. I had received a missive and…Justin, will you please stop chasing Sir Anselm around the room and put your sword away!” He waited until his frowning younger brother did as he was told before continuing. “I received a missive from the lady Rosaleen two months past explaining that Briarstone is in desperate need of a priest and asking whether I might come and fill that need. I assumed she wrote me at your request, Hugh, but this, she has explained, is not so. When Justin and I arrived at Briarstone two days ago we took your people by surprise, I fear, and caused no small difficulty.”

“I left Chris with instructions not to let Rosaleen leave Briarstone,” Hugh said angrily, “yet you have brought her to London. I hope, dear brothers, that you did no harm to any of my people.”

“No one was hurt, Hugh,” Rosaleen assured him quickly, taking a step in his direction. “I contrived to get Christian alone with Hugo and Justin, and once he was taken captive, the other men gave in easily. I left Alice the keys to the dungeon and I’m sure they were set free just as soon as we rode out.”

“I see,” Hugh said, staring at her with a look of wretched defeat. “You did not wish to wait to get to London so that you could settle matters with the king. I understand, Rosaleen.”

“No! You don’t understand at all!” She took another step toward him, uncertainly, and glanced at their audience. She hadn’t planned on making her declaration in front of so many people, but her shame was so great that she knew she deserved just such a public humiliation. With determination, she made her feet move toward him. Standing utterly still, Hugh watched her come, his eyes wide upon her.

“I did not know you would be here,” she said, trying to control the trembling of her voice. “Indeed, I did not know where you would be, though I vowed I would somehow find you, no matter where I had to go or how long I had to search.” She stopped before him and forced her tear-filled eyes up to meet his questioning ones. “I wished to beg your forgiveness for the things I said to you, Hugh,” she whispered, “and I wanted to tell you that if you will do me the great honor of allowing me to become your wife, I shall be grateful to you for the rest of my life, and will gladly live with you at Briarstone and be so proud to be the wife of Hugh Caldwell.”

“Rosaleen.” His voice was filled with wonder.

“And…and so I…I…” She began to sink down upon her knees so that she could kiss the hem of his garment in an act of apology and submission.

Hugh’s strong hands stopped her, grasping her shoulders, and he lifted her up. When their eyes met she was stunned to find that his were blazing with anger.

“Never do such a thing again!” he said fiercely. “My wife goes down on her knee to no man save the king. And
if she does kneel before the king she’d better have a damned good reason for it!”

“But, Hugh…”

“And if anyone should beg forgiveness,” he went on with less bluster, “it is I.” He pulled her closer and held her more gently. “Rosaleen, I’m sorry for what I said to you. I wish I’d cut my tongue out before speaking to you as I did. I’ve been sick with hate of myself since you walked out of my chamber two days past.”

With a sob, Rosaleen pressed her face against the silk and armor covering his chest.

“Don’t cry, love,” Hugh murmured, holding her tight. “Don’t cry.” Looking up, he saw seven fascinated sets of eyes watching them, and he scowled and turned Rosaleen in his arms so that her tears were hidden from them.

“I believe Hugh and Lady Rosaleen would enjoy some privacy,” Aunt Leta stated loudly. “Perhaps we could return later to see whether these two young idiots have made some sense of the mess they’ve created.”

“An excellent idea, madam,” Uncle Anselm agreed, snatching the signed sheet of parchment from the table and rolling it up.

Justin’s sword came out again. “You are not leaving with that. Return it at once.”

“God’s teeth, Justin!” Hugh swore. “Never have I seen a man more ready with his weapon! Do you make a habit of challenging everyone you meet?”

Justin’s reply was stopped by the entrance of a castle page.

“I have a message from the king for Sir Baldwin.”

“Here,” answered both Willem and Justin.

“For Sir Hugh Baldwin,” the boy clarified.

“Ah,” said Hugh, “that would be me.” He extended one hand toward the boy while keeping hold of a sud
denly stiff Rosaleen with the other. “I must become accustomed to that, must I not?” He chuckled, looking at his family.

“Hugh,” Rosaleen whispered, pulling away to look at him, “what have you done?”

Hugh’s smile grew sheepish. “I’ve made myself an honorable man, sweeting. That will give all my old fellows something to jest about, will it not?”

“Oh, no.
No!”
she cried with distress. “You can’t, Hugh! I’ll not let you! You must have it taken back!”

“Taken back?” he repeated.
“Taken back?
After everything I went through these past two days? Nothing on God’s earth could make me have it taken back! I haven’t suffered and been made a great spectacle of for naught!”

“Spectacle?” she said. “The celebration…the crowds and all the cheering from this morn…that was for
you?”
As if just seeing him, she took in anew the polished armor he wore and the white robes. “God in heaven,” she said weakly, sounding as if she would faint, “you’ve been knighted. Hugh…you let yourself be knighted…for me?”

“I certainly did,” he said with a huff. “And I’ll be damned if I’ll have gone through it for naught.”

“And you have taken the name of Baldwin.” She shook her head in disbelief. “For me. Oh, Hugh Caldwell, I love you.”

“Baldwin,” he corrected. “The great and noble Sir Hugh Baldwin. I rather like the sound of that.”

“You will always be Hugh Caldwell to me,” she replied with a laugh, throwing her arms around him and hugging him with joy. “And I shall always love you! But, God’s mercy, Hugh! It wasn’t necessary. None of it. I hope you’ll not come to hate me for causing you to do something that you never wished.”

“Ahem!” the waiting page cleared his throat loudly to gain their attention. “His majesty is ready to see you, my lady, and you, Sir Anselm.”

“Thank you,” Rosaleen said, pushing out of Hugh’s embrace. “Please tell him we shall be there at once. Hugh—” she took his hands “—my audience with the king will be brief, and I must see you at once afterward. Will you wait for me here?”

For the first time Hugh, looked more closely at the stranger standing amongst his family.

Keeping his eyes on the big man, he asked, very slowly, “Rosaleen, is this man your uncle? The one who is your guardian?”

“Yes, this is Sir Anselm Druste, my half uncle, actually, as he was my mother’s half brother.”

“I see,” said Hugh, and gently put her from him. “In that case, Sir Anselm,” he continued pleasantly, approaching the man, “I am very glad to meet you.”

The next moment found a stunned Sir Anselm lying flat on the ground, arms splayed wide.

“That was only a taste of what I’m going to give you when you get up, you filthy bastard,” Hugh said angrily. “I saw the results of the beating you gave your niece, and for every lash you gave her, I will repay you tenfold. Now get up!”

“Don’t, Hugh! You must leave him be!” Rosaleen tugged on Hugh’s arm to make him listen. “By the rood, you’ve just laid a hand in violence on the future Earl of Siere! He could have you put to death for such an insult! Do you not understand? Leave him be!”

Slowly, Sir Anselm sat, rubbing his aching jaw in the spot where Hugh’s fist had struck it. “Don’t bear any false hopes, Rosaleen. Your lover is as good as dead now. I shall make certain of it when I speak to the king.”

“No!” Rosaleen cried. “Not if you wish me to continue with our bargain!”

“What do you speak of?” Hugh demanded. “He’s not going to be the Earl of Siere. Rosaleen is the inheritress of that estate.”

“No longer,
Sir
Baldwin,” Uncle Anselm replied haughtily, rising to his feet. “She has just this morn signed everything over to me, including all of the estates and various titles. In exchange I have agreed to let her wed with you, for as her guardian she must have my approval. We are going to the king now, and once he has approved the document it will be perfectly, absolutely legal.”

Hugh turned to gape at Rosaleen. “How could you do such a thing? God’s my life, all those centuries of ancestors must be turning in their graves!”

“I could think of no other way to show how sorry I am for the things I said,” she told him, “or to tell you of how much I love you and wish to be your wife. It is the only way we can be together, Hugh, and I realized on that day when you left Briarstone that I cannot live without you, no matter what that means to my family name.”

Hugh shook his head in amazement and wonder. Rosaleen’s words made him feel a storm of emotions such as he had never experienced before.

“Oh, my darling,” he murmured, pulling her trembling body into his arms. “You did this for me? You were willing to sacrifice all you hold so dear for me?” When she nodded, he kissed her. “I cannot think of words perfect enough to tell you what that means to me, or of how grateful I am. Of course, I cannot let you do it. You did promise that my eldest son would be the future Earl of Siere, and that’s a promise I will hold you to!”

Wide-eyed, she stared at him. “But it’s too late, Hugh! I have already put my signature to the document! Unless the king sees fit not to approve it, my word is binding!”

“Rosaleen,” Hugo said, “I think I can—”

“Not now, Hugo!” Hugh sent him a warning glance. “Later, after I’ve killed Sir Anselm, we’ll be in need of spiritual guidance.”

“Lay another hand on me, bastard of Gyer, and I swear by God above that I’ll not approve your marriage to Rosaleen. I will force her to honor the marriage contract drawn up between Simon of Denning and myself. It would be an easy task to accomplish, for the king has already approved that contract, and I am the only one who can say it nay.”

Realizing the truth of the man’s words, Hugh gritted his teeth. “Rosaleen, my darling, I love you with my whole heart, but there are times when I could readily wring your beautiful neck! What in God’s name were you thinking to sign that damned document?”

“Hugh,” Hugo said, “there’s really no need for this.”

“I’ll not have it!” Hugh stated angrily, ignoring his brother. “I will
not
have it.”

Angry now, Rosaleen stamped her foot. “If you will recall, my lord, it was
your
idea for me to sign everything away!”

“I don’t care if it was a command from God himself!” Hugh shouted. “I will not have it, Rosaleen, do I make myself clear? God’s toes! I let myself be
knighted
just so you could keep all your damned land and titles and family jewels! Do you have the slightest idea of what I had to go through? Do you? I spent
all
of last night on my
knees
in the chapel! I allowed myself to be
bathed
by strangers in front of a whole assembly of onlookers!” he shouted,
outraged anew at what he’d been made to suffer. “I…I let the king
slap
me, for God’s sake!”

“Don’t be foolish!” Rosaleen countered just as furiously. “You know very well he was only dubbing you!”

“I am not an idiot, Rosaleen!” he raged. “You can call it a tickle under the chin for all I care and that won’t change what it was! It was a damned hard slap! And he was
smiling
when he did it!”

“We’ve no time for this nonsense,” Uncle Anselm interrupted. “The king awaits us, Rosaleen.”

“You’re not going anywhere until I’ve finished with you!” Hugh shouted at the man. “And don’t speak of Simon of Denning to me again, for I’ll kill him before I’ll let him set a hand on my wife!”