Susan Spencer Paul (24 page)

“You can’t kill him,” Rosaleen said.

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do!” Hugh roared wrathfully. “If he puts his filthy hands on you I’m going to damned well kill him!”

“Hugh,” Rosaleen said patiently, “you cannot kill him because he’s already dead.”

“Well!” said Aunt Leta to her husband, much impressed. “You must admit, my lord, this is quite the most interesting entertainment we’ve had in a long while!”

“‘Struth, my dear,” agreed the placid man.

“I really think I must sit down,” Candis said weakly, putting a hand over her stomach as Willem moved to set a supporting arm around her.

“Simon of Denning dead!” Uncle Anselm repeated in disbelief. “It cannot be true! Where is the man who could raise a hand against him and live? Where is the man who could kill such a one as he? I do not believe such a man exists!”

“He is quite dead, Uncle, I assure you,” Rosaleen told him. “And the man who killed him stands before you. Sir Justin did it.”

Hugh’s eyebrows went up so high they almost got lost in his hairline.

“Justin!”

“Justin Baldwin!” Aunt Leta said with disapproval.

“I’m going to tell Alex to take your sword away. You cause more trouble with it than any ten men together!”

“Oh dear, I think I n-need some wine,” Candis moaned sickly.

“Is this true, Justin?” Hugh demanded. “Did you kill Simon of Denning?”

“Yes,” Justin replied simply. “It was a matter of honor, and as a knight of the realm who has taken sacred vows, I had no choice.”

“God’s my life!” said Hugh, thoroughly stunned. It was difficult for him to look at his youngest brother and realize that he was no longer a nine-year-old boy but a man full grown and capable of killing other men.

“Sir Simon was trying to kill Lady Rosaleen,” Justin explained. “It happened at the inn we stopped at two nights ago. Before we left Briarstone, Rosaleen had sent word to both Sir Anselm’s and Sir Simon’s armies, requesting that those two men meet her in London. Simon of Denning came directly after us, and that night, when Rosaleen told him that she intended to wed with you, he said that he would see her dead first. Of course, I had to kill him after that. There were plenty of witnesses to attest that I was in the right.”

He spoke of it so calmly, so factually, that Hugh felt slightly ill.

“Well then,” he muttered, dragging his gaze away from his brother’s calm face to look at Anselm Druste. “We’ve
no further reason to speak of Simon of Denning, have we? There’s no fear of Rosaleen’s marrying him, now that he’s dead.”

“I still have the document making me the Earl of Siere,” Sir Anselm said, patting the place in his tunic where the parchment lay safe, “and it bears Rosaleen’s unforced signature. Indeed, the whole matter was her idea, her offer, and to that she must admit if the king asks
her
whether it is true. I simply accepted her offer.”

“Damn!” Hugh growled. “There must be a way out of this mess, somehow!”

Sir Anselm smiled. “There is no way out, Baldwin, and you’d best accept it. Now, if you will excuse us, my niece and I have an audience with the king.”

“I’d not show that contract to King Henry, Sir Anselm,” Hugo advised. “Not unless you wish to be made a great fool.”

Everyone looked at him.

“I’ve been trying to explain,” he said, “that there is no need for worry. Since I am a priest, it made sense for Rosaleen to ask me to write out the document.” Hugo gave a slight shrug. “I was glad to do so once she explained what its purpose was. I thought she might have reason to be angered with me this morn, however, but it is clear that neither she nor Sir Anselm has taken time to read the agreement they signed. Rosaleen, I know, has been too distraught of late to care for such things,” Hugo said warmly, smiling at Rosaleen. “While Sir Anselm—” he gave that man a harder look “—is too greedy. It is a sad truth that greed will blind a man to all else. As our dear Lord said, ‘Beware, and be on your guard against every form of greed, for not even when one has an abundance does his life consist of his possessions.’ And as the prophet Isaiah said, ‘And the dogs are greedy, they are—’“

“Hugo!” Hugh broke in impatiently.

“Hmm? Oh yes, the document. Well, of course, I couldn’t let Rosaleen do anything so foolish as what she proposed, so instead of making Sir Anselm the inheritor of Siere, I conferred upon him an honor and title that I was certain King Henry would find most amusing, especially after his most recent efforts.”

“And?” Hugh prodded.

“And,” Hugo said with a mischievous grin, “when Rosaleen signed her name to that document this morn, she made Sir Anselm the King of France.”

“I
never knew the king had such a sense of humor,”

Rosaleen said sleepily, making her head comfortable against her husband’s warm shoulder, “or that you were so well-known to him.”

“Why do you think he slapped me so hard when he knighted me?” Hugh replied with a laugh, curling his arm around her. “I nearly slapped him back as it was.”

She smiled. “Was it so bad, being knighted?”

“Worse than bad,” he replied with feeling. “Almost as bad as being wed in front of half of London without any warning whatsoever. As glad as I am to be married to you, Rosaleen, I’m done with ceremonies, and so I give you warning. No more. I’ve done with such public displays.”

“My lord,” she said, lifting her head to look at him, “you have only begun. As the Earl of Siere you will be required to attend more ceremonies than you could possibly imagine.”

“God’s mercy.”

“‘Struth, I warn you. Best set your mind to it. My father complained about it often.”

“God’s mercy,” he repeated with renewed horror.

“It will not be so terrible, my lord. I shall ever be there to help you, and afterward I shall recompense you most thoroughly to make you forget how awful it was.”

His eyebrows rose. “That sounds promising.”

“I love you,” she said. “I will never forget that you gave up so much for me.”

He hugged her tightly. “I have gained much more than I have lost,” he told her. “On the day I arrived in London I spoke with my Aunt
Leta,
and she confirmed all that you said about my father and told me more, so that I can believe now that he loved me as much as I always wished he did, and can accept that I have a right to name myself a Baldwin.”

“Oh, Hugh! I’m so glad!”

“I’m the one who’s glad,” he said, “but I feel as though I have lived the last ten years of my life for naught. I kept running from the truth, when the truth only would have eased my mind. If I had never met you, Rosaleen, I never would have found peace, but would have- kept running until my life found its end.” He turned his head until his nose touched hers. “Now look at me. I’ve been transformed from a lowly soldier, a bastard, to the Earl of Siere. How will I ever thank King Henry for bestowing such an honor on me?”

She laughed, hitting one of his hard shoulders with a small fist. “Wretch! You make it sound as though he’s condemned you to death. You will be a wonderful earl. If my parents could only know how well I have wed, Hugh Caldwell, they would be so glad.”

“In truth?”

“In truth,” she vowed.

“I do not know that you are right, love, but I’ll do my best to make you, and them, proud.”

“And your father and mother and family proud, too.”

“Mmm,” he returned, closing his eyes against the delightful feeling of her silky hair against his chest. “My mother, yes, and family, yes, but which father? You’ve no assurance with me, Rosaleen. I’ve the blood of one of the worst devils ever born in me, and the influence of the other. You must pray each night that I do not fall into either of their paths.”

She closed her own eyes. “Yes, my lord,” she agreed meekly. Yawning, she asked, “Do you think Christian will be happy to have Briarstone?”

He nodded against her head. “I think so,” he said while his hand explored the gentle curves of her hip. “It is only right that he should have the estate, and as soon as the harvest is complete there should be plenty of funds for him to run the place properly.”

“He will do well, and Hugo will be there to help him. And Justin, too, for a short while, at least.”

“Justin!” Hugh said dismally. “Whatever will become of the lad? He’s the most heartless fellow I’ve ever known.”

“He isn’t heartless, Hugh,” Rosaleen objected. “He’s simply possessed of a very serious nature. There is no middle ground for him, only right and wrong.”

“Well, I say he’s damned unnatural. He kept insisting that he had a debt of honor to kill Sir Anselm even after I’d beaten the man to a pulp. God’s my life, there was hardly enough left to kill!”

Rosaleen grimaced. “And you call
him
heartless!”

Hugh opened one eye and glanced at her. “I had a perfectly good reason for what I did to your uncle, and he’s damned lucky I didn’t kill him, as I want to do whenever I think on what he did to you. Justin, however, had the least of reasons for wanting to do away with him. ‘Struth, Rosaleen, the boy can’t go around killing everyone who
makes a slight against a member of his family. We’d have dead bodies lying all over the streets.”

“Staying at Briarstone will do him good,” Rosaleen assured him. “He and Christian are of an age with one another. Perhaps they will become friends.”

A shout of laughter escaped Hugh. “Oh yes, I can just imagine what an exciting time those two sober souls will have together. If there’s one lad who’s even more serious than Justin, it’s Chris. They’ll probably sit around in the evenings and bore one another to death right along with everyone else.”

“Oh, Hugh, that’s not fair! And the people of Briarstone will be so grateful to have two of your brothers there in place of you. Can you not imagine how distressed they’ll be when they discover you’ll not be returning?”

“They will miss me, won’t they?” Hugh replied with pleasure. “I was such a good master to them. I daresay I shall go down in history as the great savior of a famed estate.”

Rosaleen smirked. “Oh yes, certainly. Perhaps they’ll honor you with a monument of some kind. It will read ‘Hugh Caldwell, Master Of Briarstone, Who Bravely Rescued The Land From Ruin.’“

“Well, I did have a little help from you,” Hugh admitted reluctantly. “Perhaps they shall put a small monument honoring you next to my much larger one.”

She thumped his chest again. “You’re a beast,” she said.

“‘Struth, love.” He smiled, rolling to his side and pulling her naked body against his own. “But I’m your beast. And your beast is getting hungry for his wife again.”

“I’m not certain you have time to sate yourself, husband. I believe we were to have been at the wedding feast over an hour ago. Your brother, the Lord of Gyer, and the king will be angered with us, mostlike.”

Hugh lifted his mouth from her shoulder long enough to say, “Alex was rather angry when he arrived this afternoon, was he not? I thought he was going to turn one of us over his knee for the fright we gave him when he arrived at Briarstone to find neither of us there and the place in such a commotion. I doubt there’s much more we could do to get in his black thoughts.” He lowered his head and took up nuzzling her again.

“Be that as it may, Hugh,” Rosaleen persisted, moving her head to give him greater access to her neck, “the feast is in our honor. Do you not think we should, at least make some effort to attend?”

“No,” he muttered against her skin, giving her a playful nip. “Besides, the feast is to honor Willem and his new wife, as well. I don’t see why we have to be there and make such a crowd. Let Willem and Lady Gwynneth have all the attention.”

“Poor Willem! I think he hates ceremonies more than you. I’ve never seen a more miserable man than he was during his wedding.”

“And I’ve never seen a happier bride,” countered Hugh, pushing the covers aside so that he could gaze at his wife’s breasts. “If Willem was ever to be wed, that was how it was going to happen. All at once and without giving him a chance to escape. He’ll be happy with his lady, though. She’s quite a lively beauty, and just what he needs to light a fire beneath him. Rosaleen, my love,” he said, touching one breast reverently, “how did you come to be so perfectly made?”

“Oh, Hugh.” She shivered beneath his touch. “I do think we should stop this and go down to the feast. The Lord of Gyer will never forgive us.”

Smiling, Hugh brought his mouth close to her own. “Rosaleen, darling, my lovely wife, I have no intention of
letting you leave this bed for the next week, at the very least. You had best set your mind to it. And I don’t really give a damn what my eldest brother thinks, because for the first time in my life,” he said with a wicked grin, “I outrank him.”

* * * * *

eISBN 978-14592-7514-0

THE HEIRESS BRIDE

Copyright © 1996 by Mary Liming.

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