Suzanne Robinson (22 page)

Each detail of feather and beak was carefully traced, but the picture was odd, for the red bird was attacking the falcon. In fact, the red bird had its claws around the falcon’s neck, its beak embedded in the heart of the falcon. The feathers of the red bird were painted a vivid shade, between scarlet and crimson, which is called cardinal. The falcon was his own heraldic device

Blade crumpled the paper in his fist and tossed it into the flames of the fireplace. Leaning on the chimneypiece, he stared into the fire. The Cardinal of Lorraine knew about him, possibly from Claude. As he was contemplating how long he could survive with Charles de Guise hunting for him, René returned with a pile of his master’s clothing in his arms. Blade hardly glanced at him.

René knelt in front of a chest and began transferring hose and shirts to it. Blade spoke softly to his man in French.

“We’re in trouble. The Cardinal of Lorraine has discovered who I am.”

René paused in the act of lifting a shirt. “Then we are fortunate to have left France when we did.”

“The cardinal’s reach is long.” Blade sighed as he looked over at René. “No doubt he searches for us at this moment. Marry, it’s fortunate we’ve found what we were looking for.”

René dropped a shirt and let out a breath. “At last,
mon seigneur
. Then we leave.”

“I leave soon, but you will remain.”

“But my lord, the cardinal.”

“There’s the matter of the killer of Thomas Richmond,” Blade said. “There’s a murderer in this house, and I can’t leave Oriel unprotected. You will guard her until I can return to find the culprit and break this cursed betrothal.”

“My place is at your side.”

“You will do as I command,” Blade said. When René continued to frown at him, he went to the man and put a hand on his shoulder. “I have hurt her enough by misleading her into this betrothal. I won’t have her harmed, and you’re the only one I trust to keep her safe.”

“Oui, mon seigneur.”

Blade turned back to the fire and braced his arm on the mantel. The emerald on his left hand caught the flames and gleamed, reminding him of his folly.

“God’s blood,” he murmured and closed his eyes.

“My lord?”

At first he didn’t answer, but then he opened his eyes and stared at the emerald. “God, René, I hate myself, but how could I have known what would happen?” He closed his fist over the emerald. “I vowed long ago never to endanger any woman by marrying.”

“It was your father, not you, who—”

“I’ll hear no more, damn you. Now that I have what I came for, I will begin to remove myself from her affections.

Tonight I’m to meet her at the old lodge. I’ll begin then.”

“Meet her?” René’s frown deepened. “But my lord, the old lodge is almost a league’s distance from Richmond Hall. How will Mistress Oriel go there?”

“A league?” Blade left the fire to join René by the chest. “A league. By the rood. She meant to travel a league to this lodge by night?
Sacré Dieu
, I thought she had more sense.” As he realized the danger in which she would place herself, his fury at Oriel grew.

“Pardon, my lord, but Mistress Oriel’s sense seems to be directed more toward Greek and Latin than the business of everyday living.”

Blade’s voice rose. “God’s sacred body!”

He charged toward the door. “I’ll take a whip to her. I’ll, I’ll—” He stopped. “She’s with her maid. Curse her, I’ll have to wait until tonight when we dine.”

He kicked the door, turned, and swept back into the chamber. How many other foolish things had she done before he had come? What would she do once he’d gone? God’s blood, he would give her a scolding that would soon teach her sense.

That night, after everyone had dined in the great chamber, chivalry prevented him from refusing Aunt Livia’s demands for a song or two. He was tuning his lute while seated on a stool near the fire with Oriel on a cushion beside him. They hadn’t spoken much, for she seemed absorbed in glaring at Leslie for some reason of which he was ignorant.

Most of the family were ranged in a half circle on cushions and chairs. They were chattering among themselves while he tuned the lute. Twisting a peg, he plucked at one of the strings. With everyone talking at once, he was about to chastise Oriel for her foolish plans to go to the hunting lodge when Leslie sauntered over to them.

He yawned, then gave them a lazy smile. “God’s
foot I’m drowsy this night. It’s unlike me to fall asleep in company as I did this afternoon. I must beg your pardon again, Fitzstephen.”

“There’s no need.” He twisted another peg. Oriel said nothing and continued to glare at her cousin.

“Most unlike me,” Leslie said.

He was suspicious. Blade gave Leslie a wide-eyed glance. Leslie waited with an air of expectation, but Oriel interrupted them.

“Leslie Richmond, you’re a foul toad.”

They both stared at her.

“Not two hours ago I caught you with Nell—again—this time in Uncle Thomas’s chamber. You had your arms around her, and if I hadn’t come upon you, I know what would have happened. Why is it that men demand chastity of women and then try to debauch them? Why is it that chaste women are hounded until they yield and then blamed when they succumb? Why is it that men are praised for their debauchery, but women who behave the same way are considered depraved?”

Blade stared at Leslie. Leslie returned his gaze, his mouth working. He finally got out a reply.

“Men are different.”

“Men are unfair, as you are,” Oriel snapped. “And now Nell’s gone into hiding for fear of my wrath, and it’s all your fault.”

“I’ll not remain here and listen to your silly complaints.” Leslie stalked away to join his brothers.

Striking a chord on his lute to gain Oriel’s attention, Blade scowled at her. “Where do you find these strange notions?”

“They’re not strange.”

He held up a hand to forestall another argument and spoke to her under the cover of the sound of his tuning.

“Never mind. I would speak with you about this journey to the lodge. I’ve heard the hunting lodge is
over a league’s distance away. By God, you try my temper. I’ll not have you putting yourself in such danger.”

“I’ve been to the lodge many, many times,” Oriel whispered back fiercely.

“At night?”

“Well, mayhap not at night.”

Blade placed the flat of his hand against the lute strings and spoke louder. “You’re not to set foot out of this hall. I forbid it.”

She scrambled upright, and to his surprise, poked him in the doublet with her finger. “Don’t you order me about, Blade Fitzstephen. I’m not one of your pliable French harlots.”

“Marry, I hope not, for a harlot might brave the roads at night. You, mistress, will not.”

“I will do as I please.” She lifted her chin and glared at him. “Faith, I like not this tyrannical manner of yours. I’ll not be spoken to as if I were a slave.”

“You’re my betrothed lady. You owe me obedience and submission.”

“I have a mind with which to think, my lord.”

“According to the Bible, wives should be obedient to their husbands. I will be your lord, and you must obey me.”

Furious, Oriel managed to kick him on the ankle surreptitiously.

“The Bible also says that maids should be chaste, but I haven’t noticed you worrying about that particular admonition.”

Faith tapped her fan on the arm of her chair. “Oriel, stop chattering and allow Blade to finish his work. We’re all waiting.”

As Blade returned to his tuning, Faith continued.

“By the rood, Oriel, we must put you to work quickly at learning the rightful tasks of a wife. You’ve spent far too much time in useless learning, and now you’re ill fit to marry anyone, much less a lord with
holdings in England and France. What was the name of your chateau, Blade?”

“Mirefleur.”

“Ah, such a beautiful name. It’s a pity Oriel won’t be able to manage it as she should. Now, Joan would know what was needful, for I’ve taught her well.”

Oriel tossed her head. “I can order a steward about just as well as Joan.”

“And how will you know what orders to give?” Faith asked. “How will you know if he’s performed his duties correctly or if he’s cheating you?”

“I have studied mathematics.”

“But you don’t know the price of pepper,” Faith said, “and you have no knowledge of the salting of meat or how to dry fruit or how to distill herbs and flowers for medicines. Why, I don’t even think you know when pigs should be slaughtered.”

“Oh.”

Blade heard that small, desolate reply and glanced up from his lute. Oriel’s cheeks were flushed, and she was staring at her hands, which were clasped in her lap.

“I’m sure Oriel can learn what she needs to know,” he said. “As for me, I found myself enchanted by the jewel-like qualities of her mind and person. All the rest fades when compared to that.”

Oriel looked up at him, eyes wide and startled. She bit her lip. “Aunt Faith speaks the truth. She tried to instruct me, but I would forget what she taught me as soon as I returned to my studies in Latin or French.”

“Il n’importe, chère.”

“But it is important,” she said. “Mayhap I should study householding a bit.”

“As you wish. At least it will keep you at home instead of wandering where you shouldn’t.”

He drowned her irate reply with a chord from his lute and began to sing. He entertained the family with a few songs, but found it hard to enjoy the music himself. He longed to resume his quarrel with Oriel, for now he
had no idea what other foolhardy risks she was in the habit of taking. She defied him simply because he had ordered her to do something, whether the order was reasonable or not. A plague take her, he wouldn’t suffer her churlish, willful disobedience. She needed curbing.

He glanced down at her, his ire fermenting as he remembered her defiance. She was watching his hands as they plied the lute, her gaze moving with each stroke. Blade smiled nastily and began a new song. As he sang, Faith began to frown, while Livia and Leslie chortled and clapped in time with the music.

When he finished, everyone except Faith and Oriel clapped and laughed. He rose and bowed to the group, then turned to offer his hand to Oriel. She was staring at nothing, her face drained of color. He had expected fury.

He bent low and took her hand.
“Chère?”

She allowed him to help her rise, then went with him when he retrieved their goblets and guided her to a side table where flagons had been set out. She was silent while he poured. When he shoved a goblet into her hand, she wet her lips and whispered “I might be with child.”

He choked on his wine.

“God save me,
chère
, I hope not,” he said, after he had recovered. “I would spare you that heavy burden awhile. After all, we know so little of each other. Um, plenty of time for children later.”

“I warrant you’re right. Still, I’m glad we’re to be
married soon. George says we should be married in four weeks’ time.”

“He does, does he?”

“You don’t agree?” she asked.

“Oh, marry, I do. Four weeks. Yes, four weeks. Now, about the lodge. Perchance we shouldn’t meet alone anymore. After all, we’re betrothed and—”

“Don’t you want to be with me?”

“Yes, too much. So much that I’m in constant pain from the wanting, but honor demands that we be circumspect.”

“Damn honor.” Oriel grinned at him. “Let us hence tonight to the lodge where I may assuage your pain.”

“God’s blood, I told you you’re not to venture out of the hall at night.”

“But—”

Blade glanced around to see if anyone was looking, then grabbed her arm and squeezed it. Fixing her with his most commanding stare, he said, “Oriel Richmond, if you try to stir from this hall at night, I’ll strip you of your clothes and lock you in your room.”

“You will not.”

“Sacré Dieu
, after what has passed between us, do you doubt it?”

“Foul toad.”

She jerked her arm free and tried to leave him, but he snatched her arm back.

“Release me,” she said. “I like not your arrogance, my lord. Mayhap I no longer wish to meet you at the lodge or anywhere else.”

Knowing he’d won, he couldn’t resist a taunt “Don’t spurn me,
chère
. You only tempt me to show you who’s master.”

She rounded on him, and he lost his smile when he saw her face.

“God’s holy patience. Is this what I may expect? A man who seeks to master me as he does a wild horse? Indeed, I thank you for showing me your true nature
before we married. Now I shall have to consider whether I want to be married at all. Afore God I do believe I’d rather remain a spinster than subject myself to your governance.”

“Now, Oriel—”

“Good e’en to you, sirrah.”