Married in Haste (31 page)

Tess was ready to go. Banon looked as if she could spend the afternoon helping with the plans to repair the vicarage and Tess let her.

She had started for home, when Vicar Rackham came running after her.

“One m-moment p-please, m-my I-lady.”

Tess stopped. They stood in the middle of the road, not far from Pughe’s smithy.

“M-my I-lady, th-there is one t-topic I m-must b-bring up in m-my role as s-spiritual I-leader.”

“What is that?” she asked him in Welsh.

He answered in his tortured English. “Your husband b-begged me to b-bring th-this to your attention.”

Tess felt a tingle of warning on the short hairs of her neck. “What topic is that, sir?”

“A wife’s m-marital duties to her husband—”

“Say no more,” Tess replied, but she was smiling. Touché, Brenn, touché!

“Tell my husband if he should ask that I’ve taken the matter to heart.”

She turned and made her way back to the cottage. The emptiness she’d been nursing was starting to fade.

Brenn came home in the middle of the next day unsure of his reception.

He expected her to like the horse and the vicar, but he wasn’t certain she would appreciate his pointed messages.

He found Tess by the house playing with a rope on the ground. She was so involved, he walked up to her without her being aware of his presence.

“What are you doing?”

She jumped, startled by his question. “You’re home.”

He made a short bow to fill the awkward moment when they would have greeted each other with more warmth. His high hopes plummeted a bit. He repeated his question.

“I’m laying on a line for the stone wall. Gerald—” She referred to one of the men working on the repairing of the stone floor inside. “—said he would build one for my rose garden if I decided what I want. Did you find the carpenter?”

“He’ll take the commission. He should be here in a day or two.”

For a second, there was silence between them. He wondered what she was thinking—and if she wanted to kiss him as much as he did her.

“I like the new vicar,” she said abruptly. “He’s young but full of good intentions.”

“Like ourselves?”

Tess didn’t answer but brushed the dirt from her hands. What was going through her mind?

“Vicar Rackham and I are going to open a school for the children.”

He didn’t want to talk about schools. He wanted to talk about them. But instead, he said, “It would be worthwhile.”

“We’ll be able to teach the children to read in English and Welsh. He really is a find, Brenn.”

Brenn didn’t want to talk about the virtues of another man either. He changed the subject. “Did you like the filly?”

“She’s perfect. Absolutely one of the sweetest horses I’ve ever ridden.”

“And the saddle?”

“I thank you for the saddle,” she replied dutifully.

Again silence.

“Is there any possibility I could receive a kiss for my generosity?” he asked.

He’d caught her off guard but then she laughed. “No,” she said candidly, “because I also received your messages.”

But there was no heat in her words and the terrible sadness that had lingered around her no longer seemed to be present.

Perhaps…?

“I’m not the best man in the world, Tess. I’ve made mistakes and, perhaps by wanting too much, I’ve hurt you—but that was never my intent. Do you think you could forgive me?”

She crossed her arms, hugging her middle. “I already have.”

Brenn almost couldn’t believe his ears. “You have—!”

“But it’s not enough, Brenn. I want something more. Something I’m not sure you can give me.”

“I’d give you anything,” he declared. “I’d hang the moon for you.”

Her expression saddened. “I don’t know if it would be enough.”

What did the woman want? For the life of him, he would never understand her.

“You don’t understand, do you?” she said, echoing his thoughts.

“No, I don’t. Tell me what I must do and I’ll do it!”

She came down to him so that they stood inches from each other. “If I must tell you, then it isn’t worth having.”

With that riddle she walked on to the cottage.

Brenn ripped his hat off his head. He could have thrown it on the ground and stomped on it out of frustration. Was there any man alive that understood women?

“Tess!”

She turned to him.

“I want you.” He felt silly making such a declaration. One of the workmen stuck his head out the door at the noise, only adding to his sense of foolishness. Brenn waved him back in.

But his words didn’t soften Tess. With a shake of her head, she continued on her way.

At that moment, Cedric Pughe came up the drive in a wagon. Four able-bodied men rode with him. They were followed on foot by what appeared to be the whole village—including the vicar.

Pughe pulled the horse to a stop between the house and the cottage. “I’ve got something for you, my lord,” he told Brenn.

Jumping down, he gave a quiet order to the other men and together they lifted something off the bottom of the wagon.

Tess gave a small cry and Brenn couldn’t help but feel pride.

It was his dragon weathervane.

Pughe had hammered it out of the copper Brenn had purchased during his first trip to Swansea. Metal flames of fire breathed from its mouth. Pughe had even managed to hammer scales into its coiled body.

“It’s beautiful,” Tess said.

“Aye.” Brenn hopped up in the wagon with it. It was a good three feet in length. “You’ve done a fine job, Pughe.”

“I’m pleased,” the blacksmith said.

“Do you think we can put it up now?” Brenn asked.

“It’s why I brought the lads,” Pughe answered.

The air was festive as they marched to the house with the weathervane. The wooden scaffolding used during the wall repairs on the back of the house was carried to the front. The timbers were lashed together with rawhide strips.

Pughe wouldn’t climb it—he claimed he was just too old—but Brenn and Carne did. One of the workmen also climbed onto the roof to help secure the weathervane to the cupola.

When at last the dragon was in place, Brenn stood, balancing himself on the line of the roof. He batted the dragon and it swung free on its pole. The crowd below him cheered.

And this should have been enough—but it wasn’t.

Standing where he was, he could see the whole valley—the lake, the mountains, the people. But he realized that none of it meant anything, not even the house, if he could not set things right with Tess.

With her red-gold hair, she stood out from all the others. Little Vala held her hand while she shaded her eyes with the other to look up at him.

He ached with wanting her.

A wind came up. The dragon turned on its own and Brenn almost lost his balance. Laughing, he climbed down with the others.

Pughe slyly announced that after all that work, a man could use a drink. Brenn agreed and led the men, including the vicar and the workmen, back to the village and the local alehouse for a “wee pint or two.”

With a heavy heart, Tess watched her husband march off. He was a natural leader and there wasn’t anything the villagers wouldn’t do for him, especially after having lived under the old earl. He’d brought prosperity back. Their lives were now full of hope.

Vala tugged at her skirt.

Tess knelt down. “What is it, sweetie?”

“Mum says it’s a fairy moon tonight.”

“A fairy moon?” Tess stood and, taking Vala’s hand, walked over to Mrs. Brice. “Vala says you think it’

s a fairy moon tonight.”

The woman didn’t even blink. Tess’s interest in Welsh lore was now accepted. “Aye. It’s a full moon and I can tell by the air that it will have a ring around it. The summer is passing. The time has come.”

“But will there be fairies?” Tess asked.

Mrs. Brice looked to Mrs. Pughe and the other women gathered around her. Tess didn’t always know if they were teasing her or not.

“One can never tell,” Mrs. Brice said.

“But you have a fairy ring,” Vala said.

“That’s right, I do,” Tess agreed. Vala had been the first to point out the pattern of weeds growing through the stones in the main entry of Erwynn Keep. It had almost formed a circle and all the children were convinced fairies must dance there. Tess was determined to find out for herself and had ordered Gerald and the other workmen to not touch the ring until she gave them permission to do so.

“So are you going to keep a watch for fairies, my lady?” Banon asked. She stood next to her mother, bouncing her latest brother, eighteen month old Clyde, on one hip.

“I think I will,” Tess said, and knew they all thought her a bit odd.

The truth was, she’d always be an outsider, a Saxon, and yet the villagers admired her. She knew she’d found something special here, something that had been missing from her life in London. She’d found her place in the world.

Now, if only Brenn loved her.

He wanted her. He would like to sleep with her. He was happy to give her things…but that wasn’t enough. Not anymore.

She wanted love. Not just any love, his love.

And if she couldn’t have it?

She didn’t know what she’d do.

Brenn stayed longer than he should have at the alehouse. John Carne knew how to brew ale.

Plus, after years in the military, Brenn enjoyed male camaraderie. It helped him somewhat—though not entirely—to take his mind off of his wife.

He turned to Cedric Pughe. “Mr. Pughe, do you understand women?”

The man broke out into a great hearty laugh. The others wanted to know what Brenn had said. Pughe repeated it in Welsh and they all joined in the laughter.

“Not one of you knows?” Brenn questioned with a grin. “Are we all baffled?”

One of the sheepherders responded. Pughe translated for Brenn. “He says that men are not meant to understand women or women men because if they did there would be no adventure. And it is the adventure that gives marriage spice.” He added, as if to himself, “Aye, it was a bit of that spice that led to my last young one.” He grinned. “And Rufus is right, it was an adventure. May even have another adventure tonight!” He smacked the table, laughing heartily.

The conversation turned very bawdy after that. Even knowing little Welsh, Brenn could tell. He rose from the table, signaling to Carne to keep the ale flowing and that he would pay the tab. They started drinking to his health then, and his wife’s health, and the health of the house.

Brenn said good night when they started to drink to the health of the new weathervane.

It was a bit past eleven. The moon was silvery full. Its light gave the village an ethereal quality. As he crossed over Tess’s fairy bridge, he could almost imagine he heard the sound of fey laughter.

The walk up the drive leading to Erwynn Keep cleared his senses of the potent ale. When he came around the bend not far from the cottage, he had to stop and look at the manor.

Moonlight shimmered off the lake and gleamed on the tiles of the new slate roof. If Brenn moved a foot or two off the path, he could see the dragon weathervane silhouetted against the lake.

It made him proud just to look at it.

The door to the cottage opened. To his surprise, Tess walked out dressed in her gold riding habit. Her hair was pulled back into a simple braid and her feet were bare.

He was about to call out to her when he noticed that she held her copybook in one hand and an ink pot and pen in the other.

What the devil was she up to?

Throwing the long train of the habit over one arm, Tess started walking toward the house.

Brenn followed her. He wasn’t really quiet about his movements but she was so intent on her mission she seemed completely unaware of him. And that, he realized, was the crux of the matter. She had the ability to ignore him while he was completely, almost painfully, aware of her.

She picked her way along the drive toward the house, cautions of her bare feet. There was a rustling in the bushes off to the side. She froze, listening.

Jealousy raised its ugly head inside Brenn. Could it be that she was sneaking off to meet a lover? He thought about his jealousy over Draycutt and refuted the idea. Tess would not do that. She believed in honor. She’d made a mistake agreeing to keep Neil’s secret but she had an honorable reason to do so.

Miles pounced out of the bushes. Tess gave a start and then laughed. “I should have known it was you.”

The cat turned and gave a welcoming purr to Brenn but Tess was so fixed on her purpose she didn’t notice, even though he was no more than ten feet behind her. She continued on her way.

She started up the front steps of the house. The hastily erected scaffolding rested to one side of the door, listing a bit. The workmen had started to take it down but hadn’t finished once tonight’s opportunity to drink ale arose.

“Tess,” he said, meaning to end the game.

She turned, startled by the sound of her name, just as she’d been earlier. But before she saw him, her foot stepped on the edge of her train. It pulled and she almost upset the ink pot. Trying to save it, Tess lost her balance and started to fall. She reached out to break her fall and grabbed the scaffolding by mistake.

To Brenn’s horror, the scaffolding began to fall on top of her.

Chapter Eighteen

With a strength Brenn didn’t know he possessed, he leaped for Tess, tackling her just as the heavy timber came down.

She fell forward, the ink pot and copybook flying, and landed on the hard uneven rocks of the front hall.

One of the timbers whacked against his booted calves and then bounced off the wall and down the front steps. Brenn landed heavily on top of Tess.

The wood scaffolding finished crashing to the ground with a splintering sound.

Brenn yanked Tess up by both shoulders. “Are you all right? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

She stared past his shoulders to the scaffolding lying outside the door. Closing her mouth, she swallowed.

“Brenn?”

“Yes?”

“Did you have to be so dramatic?”

He couldn’t help laughing. “I wanted your attention.”

She shook her head, her eyes still dazed. “You have it.”