Knave of Hearts (14 page)

Ardith opened the door to the children’s room. From inside, Marian heard the nursemaid’s lilting voice. The young woman sat in one of the chairs, holding the baby. The other children sat on the floor around her, picking at the food on their trenchers, listening to her story.

The girls must have heard the door, for as soon as they spotted Marian they were up and running. They hit her with force, as they had last night, but tonight there were no tears, no apologies, only relief and joy.

Audra let go, then launched herself at Stephen. He no more than caught her up when Lyssa wrapped around his legs.

With a soft smile he returned their affection, and Marian’s heart tore open.

All I need do is tell him
.

Stephen would acknowledge the girls as his. Love them. Likely provide for them far better than she could. They would enjoy his affection and the benefits of his wealth.

But not his name. Unless Stephen married their mother, the girls would bear the burden of bastardy, a heavy burden when added to the encumbrance of being twins. Stephen didn’t want to wed with Marian. He
wanted Carolyn as his wife, a point his family had made very clear at supper tonight.

Carolyn. Her cousin to whom she owed so much, and when wrapped around Stephen last eve, been so willing to betray. No matter how deeply she loved Stephen or believed Carolyn should marry Edwin, she had no right to become intimate with the man Carolyn wished to wed.

Stephen ruffled the twins’ hair. “You two look tired. Ready to go to the tent?”

“Are you coming with us?” Lyssa asked hopefully.

He squatted down, his expression disturbed. “There truly is no reason for you two to fear for your mother’s safety here at Wilmont. What happened last eve was an accident, and is over. You understand this?”

Two little heads bobbed.

He looked from one to the other. “And you would still feel better if I escorted you to the tent, I take it.”

“Aye,” they confirmed in perfect accord.

“Then so be it.” He stood up. “Marian? Ready?”

She had wanted to speak with Ardith, who now cuddled her baby to her, preparing for feeding. Her ladyship looked weary to the bone.

“Lady Ardith, would you mind if we put off our talk until another time?”

“Not at all. Perhaps on the morrow?”

“Perhaps. We will take our leave, then. My thanks for a lovely supper. Girls?”

She and Stephen waited by the door while the twins did a round of curtsies and thanks to Ardith and Gerard, and the nursemaid, and the boys.

As the four of them left the chamber, she remembered her borrowed gown.

“Hold a moment,” she told Stephen, then hurried to the solar, rolled her slippers and gown up tightly and
tucked the bundle under her arm. The girls could help her with her lacings tonight, and the gown returned to its owner tomorrow.

Stephen looked askance at the bundle but said nothing. He led them down the stairway, around the edge of the great hall. Marian noted the few heads that turned their way, but no one seemed overly interested. Grateful for the disregard, she followed Stephen and the twins out the door and into the dusk of a summer evening.

The inner yard and bailey were quieter now, most everyone either in the great hall or off attending chores and duties before night descended. Marian fell into step beside Stephen, the girls walking briskly a few paces ahead.

A good time to say what she must to say.

“I need to thank you for coming to my rescue last eve. ’Twas unconscionable of me not to do so earlier.”

“As I recall, you tried.”

Marian felt her cheeks grow warm. “I need to thank you, too, for not accepting my…gratitude.”

“Mind you, I was sore tempted. Still am.”

The strike of her boots on the wooden drawbridge rang in rhythm with her pounding pulse. “I was wrong to tempt you, tempt us both. We cannot…allow such intimacy.”

“’Twas what I feared you would say. I was rather hoping for another offer.”

An offer she’d make in a gnat’s breath if they were both free of obligations, if he loved her, if she thought for one moment there might be a future for them together.

“Now who does the tempting? Truly, Stephen, you should look to Carolyn for offers, not me.”

She could have kicked herself as soon as the words
were out. They were nearly to the tent before he answered.

“You are right, of course. My pardon, Marian. In the future I will aim my lust toward the proper target.”

Marian couldn’t help hoping his aim faulty.

She’d no more than tucked the girls into their pallets when Carolyn charged into the tent.

“Have you no care for my feelings at all?”

Carolyn’s seething anger took Marian by surprise. She’d known her cousin might need soothing, couldn’t think of anything she’d done to warrant Carolyn’s ire. Even if she had, Carolyn’s implication that she’d done so apurpose wasn’t to be borne!

Then Carolyn swayed. Too much wine, Marian realized. Oh, Lord. Whatever her cousin was about to accuse her of wouldn’t be graciously said.

Marian glanced over at the girls, now sitting up and wide-eyed awake on their pallets. “Down and to sleep,” she ordered, then brushed past Carolyn on her way out of the tent and into the night. Several yards away from the tent, near the huge torch marking its location, she turned around and waited for her cousin. A few heartbeats later, Carolyn came out.

Marian crossed her arms. “What has your braid in a twist?”

“After all I have done for you, how could you be so shamelessly inconsiderate?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“No idea? From the moment we entered Wilmont you have done nothing but call attention to yourself. One would think
you
the woman Stephen intends to marry, not me.”

“Nonsense. Who was it who sat up at the dais tonight?”

Carolyn waived a dismissive hand. “For all the good it did me. ’Twas you, not me, who was invited up the stairs to the family apartments, not once but twice.”

Marian couldn’t be sorry Carolyn hadn’t been invited up the stairs for the night.

“’Twas truly the girls, not me, who were invited up the stairs.”

“But you did not come down, did you? I fully expected you to return to the tent afterward, in time to help me ready myself for supper. Instead, I am given over to a serving wench who knew nothing of how to serve a lady!”

“Lady Ursula told me she sent a handmaiden out to help you.”

“She did, Christina, who took great delight in informing me that
Lady Ursula
borrowed one of her gowns so that
you
might be properly dressed for evening meal. Can you imagine my mortification?”

Not truly. “Because I accepted the offer of a decent gown?”

“Because you accepted not only the gown and the invitation to supper, but then had the audacity to accept the highest chair at the highest table, inconveniencing an earl no less. Could you not have had the decency to sit lower, where you belonged?”

Marian took a deep breath, striving for patience, knowing the wine muddled Carolyn’s head. Knowing, too, that when in a petulant mood, Carolyn only heard what she wanted to hear.

“I accepted all at her ladyship’s insistence, sat at the high table for Ardith’s sake. Besides, the earl did not seem to take offense.”

“Nay, he did not. He seemed as taken with you as the rest. I swear, if I had been forced to listen to Lady Ursula compliment you on your deportment one more time, or answer the baron’s questions about last night’s mishap I might have gone mad.”

The hair on the back of her neck prickled. “What questions?”

“Oh, over how the four of you came to be down at the river together, and if I thought you and the girls fully recovered from the mishap.”

“That was all?”

Carolyn crossed her arms. “He expressed some surprise that the twins obeyed Stephen’s order to stay put. ’Twould seem his middle son is three and does not take to commands easily. I assured him that at age three the girls did not, either.”

Marian worried over the baron’s curiosity. Had his questions been innocent, or designed to gather information about the girls. Did he suspect? And if he did, would he mention it to Stephen?

Caroline kicked at the dirt, her pout in full bloom. “Then what does Stephen do but march you all through the hall, prompting questions from the earl about the twins.”

Marian’s heart sank. “I did not think anyone noticed.”

“The earl noticed, as did others. They also noticed that when Stephen returned to the hall he spent the rest of the evening up at the dais, speaking to his brother, neglecting me. When the earl deemed it time to retire, he offered me escort to my tent. I was so hoping one of the family would offer a bed upstairs.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Anyway, I assume you have had your
talk with Lady Ardith so your presence will be less marked on the morrow.”

Marian hadn’t wanted her presence marked at all. Despite her ire over Carolyn’s attitude, Marian was glad for the warning. She couldn’t go back up to the keep. She had exposed the twins to too much scrutiny already. The baron’s questions might be innocent, but dare she take the risk?

“You need not worry over the family’s distraction with me or the twins any longer. I do not intend to go up to the keep during the remainder of our stay. Beginning tomorrow, you have Stephen and his family all to yourself.”

The statement brought Carolyn up short. “Then Lady Ardith suggested a cure for Lyssa’s headaches.”

Marian shook her head. “Not enough time. Perhaps you might speak with Ardith on Lyssa’s behalf.”

“I might,” she said, then rubbed at her brow. “Then mayhap Lady Ardith will invite me up the stairs.”

Marian put an arm around Carolyn’s shoulders, pointed her back to the tent. “Mayhap.”

“Why do you not wish to go back?”

“If the earl noticed the twins and remarked on them, then others will, too. You know how cruel some people can be.”

“To protect the girls from unkind remarks, then.”

Or worse. From someone at Wilmont realizing the girls were base born, and guessing whose base born children they might be.

S
tephen strutted across the hall, his falcon on his arm. He paused long enough to hug Ardith.

She smiled up at him. “I gather the hunt went well.”

“Well, indeed. As mistress of the mews, I commend you on a job well-done, but beware, both Gerard and Richard are in a rare foul mood.”

“Oh, dear. Edwin and the earl?”

“Content.”

Hearing the rest of the hunting party enter the hall, Stephen strode behind the dais, unwrapped the leather jesses from around his gloved arm and urged the falcon onto her perch.

Richard had arrived this morning in time to join the hunting party. ’Twas rare when the three brothers were at Wilmont at the same time and able to enjoy an outing together.

What a pair they were, Gerard and Richard, both big, broad and blond, like their father. Serious, for the most part, and particularly doting where their wives were concerned. He watched his brothers approach, noting the two even walked alike, with long, purposeful strides.

Richard urged his falcon onto the perch. “You can stop gloating now.”

Stephen tried not to smile. “I said nothing to anyone but Ardith, and that only to compliment her bird.”

“You said nothing of the heron I missed?”

“Nay.”

“Or the hare I did not see?” Gerard asked.

“I did not.” Stephen glanced from one brother to the other. “In truth, I do not understand what distracted the both of you this morn. ’Twas not the falcons’ fault neither of you paid heed. What were you talking about?”

Richard looked to Gerard.

Gerard glanced over at where Edwin and the earl perched their falcons. “Later.”

Something family related and private then, Stephen surmised, knowing Gerard’s “later” could mean this afternoon or two days from now depending upon his whim. Maybe something he and Gerard talked about last night? Over a keg of ale, the two of them discussed several things—Wilmont’s holdings, the state of Stephen’s holdings, Corwin’s situation, Carolyn.

Toward the bottom of the keg, Stephen related the conditions of William’s contest. To Gerard’s raised eyebrow, he’d quickly explained there was no offense meant—’twas simply the desire of an ailing father to ensure his lands in good hands when his daughter inherited. Stephen then changed the subject, to Marian and her daughters.

’Struth, he’d rambled on for quite a while about them, perhaps too much, considering Marian all but told him to go to the devil last eve.

He glanced around the room, seeing no sign of her. He’d missed her this morning. She hadn’t come up to
the keep to break fast. Surely, she would be here for nooning.

Edwin walked up, shaking his head. “I must say, Lord Gerard, I doubted Stephen’s boasting on the quality of Wilmont’s falcons. I doubt no more.”

The earl slapped Edwin on the back. “Now you know the reason I remain friends with Gerard, so I might have the use of these magnificent birds.”

“And because I give you a good price on horses,” Gerard added.

To the men’s chuckles, the earl admitted, “That, too. A good hunt calls for a goblet of fine wine. What say, Gerard?”

“I say why not?”

As the others left, Stephen leaned toward Richard. “Pour me one. I wish a word with Carolyn first.”

She hadn’t moved from where he left her this morning, seated next to his mother amid a bevy of ladies, most of them daughters of noble houses who served as Ardith and Ursula’s handmaidens. The giggling gaggle, he termed the group, young women with little more to do than sit and gossip while they worked with either distaff and spindle or yarn and linen. Under Ardith’s tutelage they learned the rudiments of managing a noble household, for when their fathers arranged marriages for them.

Each was beautifully gowned and prettily mannered, but not one of them could hold his attention for long. He tended to drift off into his own thoughts when speaking to them. A problem he’d not experienced with Marian.

She’d hovered at the edge of his mind all morning. Her apology, her embarrassment. His promise to aim at
a proper target, Carolyn. He inwardly winced at the thought that at the moment his arrow would fall short.

Unwilling to wade in among the ladies, he stopped at the edge of their circle.

“Carolyn, a word if you please.”

The entire gaggle watched Carolyn rise from the bench and walk toward him. He backed up a few steps for a bit of privacy.

“I understand you had a good hunt,” she said. “How did Edwin do?”

“Ask him about his swan. I am sure he will be most pleased to give you all the details.”

A soft smile touched her mouth. “I imagine he will. My thanks for inviting him along. He does not often get the chance to hunt, and rarely in such grand company.”

Her thanks on Edwin’s behalf didn’t surprise Stephen. He’d been aware for some time that Carolyn liked the man, just considered him a poor choice as a husband.

“Has Marian not come up yet?”

Her smile tightened. “Not as yet, nor do I expect her to. Is this why you call me to you, to talk about my cousin?”

Carolyn’s tone warned him to take a less direct tack. “I worried that something might be amiss. Is Lyssa ill?”

Her expression softened immediately “Oh, Lyssa is fine,” she assured him quickly, then hesitated before adding, “’Tis just that Marian has her reasons for keeping to the tent.”

“Such as?”

Carolyn drew a deep breath and looked around, then said quietly. “If you must know, she is concerned about how much notice people might take of the twins. Even at Branwick, not everyone accepts them. I believe she
fears those gathered here might not be so circumspect in hiding their distaste for having twins about.”

Stephen remembered watching Marian cross the bailey with the twins, and the woman who’d crossed herself on their passing. She’d done so behind Marian’s back, remained discreet, if ignorant. A baron, or his ilk, would feel no need for discretion with someone not of his rank.

His fist clenched. “Has some lout made a remark to Marian or one of the twins?”

“Oh, nay! Marian merely wishes to avoid the possibility. She would feel awful if some incident took place which might mar your family’s celebration.”

’Twouldn’t be Marian’s fault if a haughty noble took it upon himself to proclaim his ignorance. ’Twasn’t right for Marian to deny herself and her daughters on a chance happenstance.

“Surely Marian will attend the christening ceremony.”

Carolyn shook her head.

Stephen didn’t understand the reasoning, nor did Carolyn’s comments ring true. Marian was protective of her daughters, but didn’t smother them. ’Twas strange she would hide them, as if ashamed of them.

“’Tis not right Marian came all this way to sit in a tent. I will talk to her, let her know she need not worry about how the twins will be treated.”

Her mouth pursed, annoyed. “Do you think that wise? I would not want the twins or Marian hurt by a careless remark. Too, you must remember Marian never intended to do aught but speak with Lady Ardith about Lyssa’s headaches, so brought no garments appropriate for associating with your family and their guests. ’Twould be embarrassing for all concerned if you insist she do so.”

“But she was given a gown yesterday.”

“I returned it to its owner this morn. Truly, Stephen, ’twould be best if you let the matter be.”

Claiming the last word, Carolyn flounced off to retake her seat among the ladies.

Stephen headed for where his brothers stood enjoying their wine. He held a hand out as he approached and Richard passed over a goblet. While the others compared the feats of the falcons, Stephen mulled over Carolyn’s comments.

’Twasn’t right, any of it.

Marian was wrong to hide the twins away as if they were lepers. She should join in the festivities, be here to receive Ardith’s praise for the gift she’d made for the babe, properly garbed or not.

He wasn’t, as Carolyn suggested, going to let the matter be.

Stephen perched on the edge of Gerard’s heavy writing table, remembering the last time the three of them had gathered for a private talk. At that time, Gerard sent him and Richard to Westminster. He hoped this time Gerard wasn’t about to send him off somewhere. Too much to do here.

Gerard settled into his chair behind the table. Richard closed the door and took the only other chair in the room.

“Ah, peace,” Gerard said on a sigh. “’Tis nice to have guests but not so many.”

Stephen chuckled. “Then why did you invite half of England?”

“To irritate the other half, of course.”

“Naturally. So why are we up here?”

“To settle my mind on something you said last night.” He glanced at Richard before continuing. “I told
Richard about this contest of William de Grasse’s. Neither of us has a liking for it, Stephen. ’Tis insulting.”

Stephen checked his ire. Gerard wasn’t raging angry, merely irritated, and that on his youngest brother’s behalf.

“No insult is intended. True, William believes Edwin the better match for Carolyn, but I think he is willing to allow our marriage if he is assured his lands will not fall to ruin after his death.”

Richard leaned forward. “Did I misunderstand, or did you not tell me Carolyn intends to oversee her own lands when she inherits?”

“She does.”

“Then why test you?”

“In truth, I think William tests Carolyn more than either Edwin or I.” Stephen told them about William’s ill health, his inability to ride his lands. Then of Carolyn’s list, and of how he and Edwin were actually assessing her judgment. “I think William truly wants confirmation that Carolyn can oversee the lands, that her grasp of land use and the value of goods and labor is sound.”

“Seems an odd way to go about it,” Gerard grumbled.

“Mayhap.” Stephen got up and walked over to the arrow slit. From this vantage he could see most of the bailey and, beyond the outer curtain wall, the tops of the tents surrounding Wilmont, including the tent where Marian hid. “William has known Edwin for a long time, knows how the man would advise Carolyn should she ask for help. He does not know me, so does not trust my knowledge or insight. I imagine he only wants to be assured he does right by his daughter.”

“And you intend to win,” Richard stated.

Stephen turned around. “Do you doubt I can?”

“Nay. The survey you did several years ago on our holdings proved your ability. Your own holdings are in excellent shape and producing nicely. I just wonder if the woman is worth all the trouble.”

“Carolyn is…Carolyn. She is beautiful, opinionated and often petulant. She is not the most loving of women, but neither is she a shrew. I believe we will make a good marriage, for both of us.”

“Convenient.”
Gerard said the word with a hint of disdain. Stephen knew very well what lecture would come next if he didn’t head it off now.

“Very convenient, which is how I want it. You both married for love, all well and good. I have other reasons for choosing Carolyn as my wife. Give it up, Gerard.”

Gerard looked to Richard for reinforcements.

Richard, bless him, shrugged a shoulder. “Stephen seems to have decided.”

Gerard’s huff sounded more of frustration than resignation.

“So you win this contest and marry Carolyn. What of Edwin? Will he make trouble for you?”

“I think not. He truly is a decent sort.”

Richard rose from his chair, stretched. “You know, Gerard, with half of England’s nobility here, mayhap we could prevail upon Ardith and Lucinda to find Edwin a wife. From the little I talked to him today, I agree with Stephen. The man is decent if a bit rigid. If our wives found a woman to turn Edwin’s head, then ’twould lay the path clear for Stephen to marry Carolyn.”

Gerard leaned back in his chair. “Not a bad idea. Truly, from what I observed last eve, the man could do no better than to look to Lady Marian.”

“Nay!”
Stephen said, then wanted the word back. His
brothers stared at him, too hard. “The two are friendly, but have no interest in each other.”

“A shame,” Gerard said. “From what you told me last eve, Lady Marian could use a husband. ’Tis not right for a noble lady to live so humbly.”

“So I have told Marian, but she prefers the quiet simplicity of the hut to living in her uncle’s keep.”

Gerard went on. “And those two beautiful little girls. How sad for them to go about in tunics and sandals when they could wear silk gowns and boots. Marian should marry again, if only for their sakes.”

“She has refused several offers, I understand, and I am sure William will see to the girls’ bride portion when the time comes for them to…marry.”

Gad, the girls were nowhere near old enough to be considering such thoughts. There were games to be played, lessons to be learned, frogs to be hunted before they began to notice boys. And boys to notice them.

Gerard smiled. “Well, mayhap Marian has just not found the right man yet. She truly is a beauty, and Charles remarked on her vivacious manner. Others noticed, too.”

What others? “Who?”

“Robert of Portieres for one, and Geoffrey d’Montgomery. Both asked after her this morn.”

Both unmarried, both monied. Both highly suitable. He’d known all along this might happen, that other men would look at Marian and want her. So why had he asked his mother to find her a suitable gown so she could come into the hall for all those men to see? To admire? To desire?

Because
he’d
wanted to see Marian gowned in finery, allow her to have a decent supper and give her a couple of hours of pleasure. Wanted her handy because he’d
contemplated dragging her off for his own purposes, to satisfy his craving—a craving so deep and consuming he’d lost interest in all other women.

He wanted only one woman. Marian. Body and heart, her love and her trust. His to hold forever as his alone.

Because he’d fallen in love with Marian.

He couldn’t say when it had happened, only knew deep in his heart that he loved her beyond reason. Hellfire, he was so close to winning Carolyn, and gone and fallen in love with her cousin.

His wayward heart aside, nothing had changed. He knew himself too well. He was far more suited to an arranged marriage than one based on love.