Duty: a novel of Rhynan (10 page)

A midnight blue gown of soft wool hung over the
screen. It slid on with ease but fit loosely through the chest and
hips. An inch of the silver-trimmed hem lay on the floor. I needed
a sash so I could loop it up a bit. Thankfully the fall of the
material and the ties at the back allowed for adjustment from bust
to hip. Though, I needed help to lace it properly. Gathering the
excess skirt in one hand and my damp fall of curls in the other, I
stepped from behind the screen.

“My lord, could you–“

My tongue stumbled to a halt at the sight of Irvaine.
The hue of his dark blue tunic almost matched my gown. The soft
wool fit the width of his shoulders like it had been tailored for
them. The only decoration, a simple silver pattern accenting the
neckline, drew the eye to his face. He looked less exhausted
clean-shaven as long as I didn’t look into his eyes. Weary and
worn, they betrayed his anxiety about the evening ahead. However,
the worry melted as he focused on me.

My cheeks flamed beneath his approval.

“The color suits you.” His gaze traveled my length
before he stepped closer.

“It still needs some adjustments.” I offered him my
back. “Could you tighten the laces?

He set to work fitting the waist of the gown. “Is
there anything you need to know about tonight?”

“My mother taught me how to behave at public
events.”

“Even an Earl’s table?”

“A duke and three earls courted her before she
married my father.”

He stopped tugging. “Your parents were a love match
then?” Lifting my hair from my hand, he spread it about my
shoulders. The still damp curls were tightening. I didn’t have time
to comb them out. I hoped he didn’t mind my mane in all of its wild
glory.

He turned me so we faced each other. Bracketing my
face with his hands, he tilted it back so he could see the whole at
once. Dark eyes studied my features. A shiver flicked my spine. I
shuddered as his attention fell upon my mouth.

“I am not sure how to shorten the skirt.” By sheer
will I kept my voice steady.

“Recent fashion calls for overlong skirts.” His eyes
continued to examine my face. “Remember our agreement about
affection in public.”

“Yes.” I willed my gaze to meet his steadily. Warmth
filled my belly despite its hunger pains. “Should I initiate
occasionally?”

The heat in his half smile made my heart rate
accelerate. He opened his mouth to speak, but a tap at the door
interrupted him.

“Come.” He stepped back, suddenly aloof again.

Jarvin opened the door and leaned inside. “They are
awaiting your arrival, my lord.”

“We are coming.” He strode over to the table where
the abandoned bowl and pitcher lay. Picking up the dagger lying
next to them, he placed it in its sheath before turning back to me.
For the first time, I realized his sword hung from his belt.

“My lady?” He offered his left arm to me.

I slipped my hand around his elbow for a secure hold.
He pressed his arm against his side, gently squeezing my arm
against his ribs.

The great hall had transformed in our hour above
stairs. Trestle tables between backless benches marched the length
leaving a great space in the center of the room. The table on the
dais remained in the same position, but now a tablecloth covered it
and evergreens decorated it. The lit candles did nothing to soften
the clawed holders high above us, but they illumined the faces that
turned our way.

“Tomas Nirren Dyrease, Earl of Irvaine and
Wisenvale.” The crier’s voice overwhelmed even the rustle of cloth
as everyone turned to stare. “His lady wife, Brielle of the house
of Solarius and daughter of Evenetta of Marienedale.”

All eyes moved from Irvaine to me. I struggled to
keep the veil of indifference over my features. My mother, before
her marriage, gained renown for her beauty and grace. I took after
my father. Strong features, solid build, and red hair. As proud as
I was that Evenetta was my mother, I wanted to flinch at the
comparison because I fell so short.

Irvaine led me down through the midst of the crowded
hall. Try as I might, I couldn’t lift my eyes to meet the gazes of
those we passed. They were not my people.

Then reality struck me so hard I stumbled. Irvaine
paused long enough for me to catch my step. We continued our
procession. I raised my head and looked into the faces of the
people as we passed.

These were Irvaine’s people. They lay claim on him.
He carried a duty to provide for them and protect them. Already, he
worked to do just that. I, as his wife, also bore obligations to
them. They were my responsibility now too. I tried to memorize
features and read personalities in the faces turned our way.

Finally we reached the dais. Lord Rathenridge and a
woman awaited us there. Lord Rathenridge greeted Irvaine with a bow
and then turned to the woman behind him. “This is my wife,
Moriah.”

Almost matching her husband in height, Moriah’s
angular features softened into a warm smile as she dipped a
curtsey.

Irvaine bowed to Moriah before drawing me forward.
“My wife, Brielle.”

“Welcome to Kyrenton, Lady Irvaine. I hope you enjoy
your time among us.” Moriah’s soft voice soothed the ear. Still,
her words rubbed at the sore place I was trying to ignore. Irvaine
was leaving me behind. My smile wobbled. I could not find the voice
to answer.

“About time you two got here. Newlyweds will tend to
run late, as we know well.” Rathenridge winked at his wife. “But I
was preparing to send out a search party.”

Irvaine gestured to the empty table. “I don’t see the
food, Aiden. We are hardly holding you up.”

“You are their lord and master now. They delayed
until you appeared. Even now I see the page leaving for the
kitchens to alert them all is ready.”

Irvaine ushered me to the seat at his right hand. To
my surprise, Rathenridge and his wife took seats to my right,
leaving the left side of the table empty.

A lad in green livery poured the wine.

“May we join you?” The query brought everyone’s
attention to the left. Sir Landry loomed, a dark shadow in all
black attire. With his beard and wild hair, his resemblance to a
great bear grew hard to ignore. Rolendis Briaren appeared tiny as
she lingered a few steps behind him.

“Of course.”

Irvaine and Rathenridge stood almost in unison.

Landry bowed. “I found the lady lingering in the
passage to the kitchens. She tells me she fears she is not welcome
here.”

Keeping her attention on the wooden platform beneath
her feet, Rolendis said, “I am not certain of my place now that…”
She looked up into Irvaine’s eyes.

Sitting, I could not judge the message she emoted at
Irvaine. I could only read the infinitesimal tightening of his
shoulders. He stepped back and rested a hand on the back of my
chair.

“You are welcome at our table. As my wife promised
your father, we will be certain you and your child are safe.”

“Thank you, my lord.” She dipped a deep curtsey,
chest thrust outward and artful curls grazing the front of her low
cut dress.

My sympathy for her precarious position warred with
my anger at her obvious maneuvers toward my husband.

Irvaine retook his place, leaning over to claim my
hand as he spoke to Rathenridge across me. Preoccupied with the
strength of my reaction to Rolendis, I didn’t pay any attention to
their words.

Landry assisted Rolendis into the seat to Irvaine’s
left before taking the place on her other side. I observed the
tightening of the fabric across her middle as she moved. The
obvious swell of her abdomen supported her father’s claim of
pregnancy.

Anxiety pressed against my breastbone. Duty demanded
that I be with child soon as well. The people of my village would
expect it. My duty to the residents of Kyrenton demanded it. Even
Irvaine planned for it. Children were part of our vows. What if I
took after my mother in the very area I didn’t wish to? My stomach
twisted. I needed to tell Irvaine about the possibility.
Kurios,
please have mercy. Make me fruitful when the time comes.

When the time comes…it might be tonight.
I
closed my eyes. Flutters of anxiety gathered beneath my ribs.

“Are you well, my lady?” Rathenridge’s voice cut
through my worries. I glanced at Irvaine to discover Rolendis had
captured his attention, though not his hand. His fingers still
covered mine on the table between us. I turned back to my other
dinner companion.

“Yes, Sir Rathenridge, I am well.”

His blue eyes examined my face with more care than I
wished at that moment. “If you fear the widow will steal your
husband, you need not.”

“I know Irvaine will not stray.”

“Oh?” He raised his eyebrows in obviously mock
surprise. “Then what has your lovely brow all in wrinkles?”

I struggled with an answer. I couldn’t tell him the
truth, but I didn’t want to lie either. Lowering my gaze, I
attempted to hide.

“Something you would rather not share. I understand.
My wife tells me frequently that I am too curious for my own good.
Wouldn’t you agree, Tomas?”

Irvaine leaned over so that his chin hovered above my
shoulder. “Your tongue ought to be leashed, Aiden. What stories
have you been telling my wife?”

“What did Rolendis want?” I asked before I lost my
nerve.

“Nothing of any weight. She wished to speak with me
tonight.”

“Alone?”

“That might have been her intent, but that is not
mine. Rest assured if you aren’t there someone else will be.”

“That widow intends to snare you, Tomas.” Rathenridge
lowered his voice. “I don’t know whether it was her or her father’s
doing, but her wedding to Kolbent happened abruptly and without any
pomp. One week she was just the steward’s daughter and the next she
was Kolbent’s wife. Even his sons thought something was amiss.”

“Good to know.”

Irvaine stroked the inside of my wrist with his
thumb. Awareness radiated up my arm. I glanced at Irvaine’s face,
but his attention focused inward. He was apparently not aware of
his hand’s actions or its effect on my senses.

“I will be extra vigilant.” He gazed into my eyes.
Anyone watching us would think he was desperately in love with me.
If only it were true.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered.

“When do you want the men assembled tomorrow?”
Rathenridge asked. His facial expression lightened as though
discussing war were less taxing than guarding against
infidelity.

“Have them gather at dawn. We will march out as soon
as we are properly assembled.”

“Moriah and I will be there.” Rathenridge smiled at
me. “Moriah insists on seeing me off at the beginning of every
campaign. What about you, Lady Irvaine? Are you going to rise early
to wish your husband well as he rides into battle?”

I opened my mouth to protest that I would be riding
by his side, but Irvaine spoke first.

“Of course she will.”

The parade of food began. Pages bearing meat and
vegetables doused in sauces passed before us. Irvaine saw to it the
most succulent morsels found their way onto my trencher. However, I
found my appetite fled with the thought of being left behind.

Irvaine was my anchor in this new world. If he left,
I would have to face it all alone. Despite my knowledge of how to
sit at table and the basic social graces, I knew nothing of running
a household of this size. Horacian would certainly not need my
input on crop rotations, hunting, sustaining a herd, slaughtering
pigs, plowing a field, maintaining records or keeping a village
from starving.

Another course paraded past. More food appeared
before me. I swallowed a few bites of mutton and a hunk of bread.
Even those threatened to reappear.

“Is something wrong or did your mother tell you that
ladies only eat sparingly at the table?” Irvaine’s voice edged my
thoughts aside. He moved so close that his breath caressed my ear
and the scents of soap and leather filled my nose.

“I have lost my appetite.”

He frowned. “You were hungry before we came down.
What disrupted your interest in food?” His dark eyes studied my
face with more care than I wished. Still, my parents taught me that
honesty was always best, especially between friends.

“I don’t wish to stay behind. I belong by your side.
I am useless to you here.”

He seemed to weigh my words. “I disagree.” He paused.
“In part.” He played with the curl lying against my cheek. “You do
belong with me, usually, but when I am riding off to war, you
aren’t safe at my side. I need you here, safe and secure. I need
someone to look out for my son when he arrives. Also, I need your
eyes. I don’t trust Horacian or his daughter. They will be more
likely to try something while my back is turned.”

“What could they try?”

“I don’t know. If we watch and wait, they will reveal
their true colors eventually.”

I processed the new situation slowly. Irvaine and his
men would ride out tomorrow morning. After meeting the remainder of
his men, they would confront the joint forces of Orwin, a nameless
foreign baron, and possibly Jorndar’s missing men. Meanwhile, I
would have to adjust to my new role of faithful wife awaiting her
husband’s return.

“And your son. You aren’t planning on him joining you
either, are you?”

He shook his head. “When we encounter the caravan, I
will be sending Darnay and Elise on to you.”

“Elise?”

“Quaren’s daughter.”

He expected me to protect two children as well as
navigate the maze of my new duties as lady of the vargar. Panic
clutched at my throat. I lifted a hand to rub against the pressure
growing in my chest.

He reached back to claim his goblet and offer it to a
passing servant. As the boy filled it, my mind raced with
possibilities. Once the goblet returned to his hand, he sipped, but
didn’t swallow. He set the cup on the table and turned back to me.
As he eased in to study my features again, I met his clear-eyed
scrutiny.