Julie Garwood - [3 Book Box Set] (15 page)

Although her husband was in charge of all that transpired, Elizabeth knew it was also her responsibility to help in any way she could. Her mother had ruled with her father, at his side, and often remarked that it was her lot in life to ease the burden of leadership. Elizabeth could do no less.

The first thing she would do was what she had promised her husband. She searched out and found
Sara and placed her in charge of the arrangements for dinner. She felt confident that she could trust Sara to see that her orders were carried out, and when the servant had repeated each instruction back to her mistress, Elizabeth was content that all would go as planned.

“The fare will be meager by Belwain’s standards, Sara. There would be sufficient quantities of shoulder of wild boar with pheasant pasties and pigeon pie, but no delicacies such as roasted peacocks or swans, nor poultry either. “Make sure that there is more than enough sweetmeats for dessert, and have the servants include cloves and ginger after that.”

“We’ll need plenty of ale, my lady, for the sweet-meats and the spices will make the men ravenously thirsty.”

“That is the plan, Sara. Tell the servants that no cup is to be left unfilled. Enough ale will muddle their minds and loosen their tongues.”

Sara nodded vigorously. “I see your plan, mistress, and I tell you I am greatly relieved. At first I could not understand how that . . . man could be allowed to sit at your father’s table. Why, I thought it was sacrilege you encouraged,” she added in a whisper.

“There is reason.” Elizabeth found herself comforting the old woman. “You must continue to have faith in me, Sara. Do not doubt my motives. Trust me.” Familiar words, Elizabeth thought. Easily asked but quite difficult to give.

Elizabeth patted the woman on the arm and left the room. Her destination was the courtyard, where her husband was holding court. The villeins, those who worked for her father but had some rights of their own to the land, and the cotters, those who usually had no rights to any property but served the lord faithfully, had all been informed that Geoffrey would hear their disputes and offer decisions. Elizabeth was anxious to
observe her husband, to see how he questioned, to have some insight on how he reached his decisions.

Geoffrey’s back was to Elizabeth when she started down the steps. A long wooden table had been placed a little distance in front of the steps, and her husband sat in the same high-back chair that her father had used. Roger stood behind Geoffrey, his hand resting almost absentmindedly on the hilt of his sword at his side. There was a crowd gathered, all men, split into two sides in front of the table, with a cleared space in the middle. A lone man, Elizabeth recognized him as one of the leatherworkers, stood in the center, his head bowed.

The squire gestured to Elizabeth and pointed to a stool next to him. Elizabeth walked over to where the lad stood. “You are to sit here,” the squire informed Elizabeth.

“My husband’s orders?” Elizabeth asked in a whisper so as not to interrupt the proceedings.

The squire nodded, pleased that his mistress understood.

Elizabeth turned and stared at the back of her husband’s head, willing him to look over his shoulder at her. So I also sit behind you, husband? Stand behind you, sit behind you, is that your way of thinking? she asked herself. Well,
I
think not, Baron Geoffrey. You have much to learn, husband mine, and the lessons will begin now.

Elizabeth smiled, more to herself than the grinning squire, and then lifted the wooden stool. The squire could do no more than gape as his mistress carried the stool to the table. Roger was watching her, Elizabeth realized, and she glanced up to see his expression. He gave her a small shake of his head, hoping she would understand that what she was about was not acceptable, but Elizabeth only increased her smile, nodding that she understood well enough. Roger’s expression
turned from a frown to a bland, almost bored expression it must have taken years to perfect, but his new mistress wasn’t the least bit fooled. She could see the laughter in his eyes.

Oh, but she hoped Geoffrey wouldn’t make a scene! Why, she didn’t even know if he was inclined to beat his wife. And though she had heard that he had a fierce temper, she had yet to see it.

Well, it was too late for second thoughts now. She took a calming breath and placed the stool next to her husband. Smoothing her gown, she sat down and folded her hands demurely in her lap. Though she wished more than anything to chance a glimpse at her husband’s expression, she did not. With total concentration she kept her gaze straight ahead and waited.

Geoffrey was in the middle of a sentence when his wife appeared at his side. He lost his train of thought as he watched her out of the corner of his eye take her place next to him. Her audacity stunned him into temporary speechlessness.

Elizabeth felt his anger blow over her like a hot wind and she braced herself for the explosion. Had she misjudged him so completely? she asked herself. She thought he would never make a scene in front of his men. Never mind, she told herself, what will be cannot be stopped. But if he does rant and rave, and if I am cast out and back inside, I will return to his side, again and again, until he must tie me in chains to keep me behind him.

Geoffrey refused to acknowledge his wife sitting beside him. He had no wish to cause a commotion, to give those watching the impression that his wife did not fear him, that she was disobedient. Later, he thought with a scowl, later he would see to her punishment.

Elizabeth felt the threat of immediate danger pass. The wind cooled the goosebumps on her skin. Odd, she thought, but she hadn’t realized how nervous she had
become. Why, she was almost frightened! Almost, she reminded herself.

It was hard not to smile, but Elizabeth did her best. It was not so very difficult training a new husband, not too difficult at all.

You have much to learn, Elizabeth, Geoffrey thought with irritation. He judged it would not be a difficult task, once his new wife understood his rules, his way of thinking. Not too difficult at all.

Geoffrey cleared his throat and tried to remember what he had been saying when the interruption occurred. “Where was I?” he muttered over his shoulder to Roger. The vassal bent down and said a few words into his lord’s ear but stopped when Geoffrey nodded.

“The charge against you is grave indeed. Did you understand that it is forbidden to hunt in your lord’s forest?”

“I understood the rules, Baron,” the leatherworker replied. “I have been a loyal freeman to Thomas Montwright for many years.”

Several men in the crowd nodded their agreement. Elizabeth knew the man standing before her husband and wondered what charge had been brought against him. He was called Mendel, she recalled, and he possessed a gentle nature. She could not imagine Mendel guilty of any crime, grave or small. Elizabeth fought the urge to ask her husband who had brought what charges against the man, but decided to wait. Being throttled in front of a crowd did not appeal to her.

“The charge is hunting within the lord’s forest,” Geoffrey restated, “and while it is my understanding that Lord Thomas, rest his soul, allowed the hunting of some animals, the deer was off limits to all but himself. Yet you were seen dragging the dead carcass.”

“I do not deny it,” Mendel answered. “I did kill the animal, but there was good reason.”

Elizabeth almost nodded her encouragement but caught herself in time. It was extremely difficult to stay an impartial witness to the proceedings, and she only then realized the weight her husband carried. Justice was a heavy burden.

“State your reason,” Geoffrey ordered.

“The deer was injured and in pain,” Mendel replied. “The front right leg was broken. I do not know how it happened, but when I came upon it, I could see the agony. I made a clean kill to stop the pain and was bringing the carcass when I was intercepted by your soldiers. That is the truth as I know it,” Mendel said.

“Is there one here who can give testimony to this man’s good faith?”

“Aye, my lord,” called out a voice. The crowd parted, and Maynard, the stable master, walked to the center.

“State your case,” Geoffrey said.

“I have known Mendel many years, my lord, and have always found him to be honest and truthful.”

“Roger? Did you check the animal as I instructed?” Geoffrey asked.

“Aye, Baron. The bone was broken,” he said.

“Tell me this, Mendel. Why were you in the forest? To hunt rabbits, perchance?” he asked, his tone mild.

“Nay, my lord. I have paid a pence and one-half for the privilege of keeping two pigs within the area, and I was but checking on them.”

“Uhmmm,” Geoffrey grumbled. He stared at the man before him for a long minute while the crowd shuffled from foot to foot.

“I find you innocent, Mendel.”

The crowd was pleased. A cheer rolled through the crowd and Elizabeth smiled her pleasure.

Elizabeth found herself content to sit beside her husband for the next two hours and listen as one after another came before their lord to state their grievances.

By the time court was done, Elizabeth had a better understanding of how her husband’s mind worked. His questions were always direct and to the point; yet when two men told opposite stories, Geoffrey was quick to find the truth. Seeing him as judge made her feel more confident that he would be able to find and punish
all
those responsible for her family’s deaths.

The crowd began to disperse, and Elizabeth thought it wise to excuse herself before her husband turned his attention to her. She had no wish to push him too far with this first lesson in just where her place was.

She was, unfortunately, not quite quick enough. Her husband’s hand rested on her arm like the weight of three trebuchets. “Because Belwain and his men are about, I have today allowed your bold behavior.” He squeezed her arm and added, “I have made an exception, wife. Do you understand?”

“I hear you, my lord, though I do not know why you are so displeased. My mother always sat beside my father. It is the way of things,” she said, looking at him with innocence.

“It is
not
the way of things,” her husband answered. His voice had risen in volume and the scar on his cheek grew a starker white against his tanned skin, a dead giveaway, Elizabeth had learned quickly, that he was indeed angry. He applied more pressure on her arm, willing her to lose her calm expression.

“It is not?” Elizabeth asked with as much innocent surprise as she could muster. She placed her hand gently on top of his. “I have only my parents’ example to follow, my lord.”

Geoffrey released the hold on her arm and pulled his hand free. “It is
not
proper to touch as this in public, wife.” He sighed when she did not agree with him, knew she did not from the look on her face. Why, she seemed fairly amazed with his statement. “This is not the time for a discussion, Elizabeth,” he decided aloud.
“Tonight I will take the time to instruct you in your duties and your place.”

“I look forward to the lesson,” Elizabeth replied, trying hard to keep the irritation out of her voice. And tonight I will instruct you, my lord, she thought.

Geoffrey considered his wife, glimpsed her anger, and was surprised by it. Didn’t she realize how patient he was being with her? He guessed she did not, and felt great frustration. She had been through a great deal and he knew her emotions were strained to the limit of her endurance. For that reason he would continue to be patient.

Where had he received his ideas? Elizabeth asked herself. Not to touch in public? To show no affection except at night, in the privacy of their bedroom? Ridiculous, she scoffed to herself. There was nothing wrong with husband greeting wife with a kiss, or wife placing a chaste kiss upon her husband’s cheek when first they met during the day. Who had raised him? A pack of wolves perhaps? She knew his parents were now dead, Roger had told her that, but what were they like with each other when her husband was a little boy? Did they never show any affection for each other? Perhaps there was no love between them, she decided. But then, there is no love between Geoffrey and myself, yet. It was too soon for love, wasn’t it? And wasn’t the touching, the showing of consideration for each other, a necessary beginning for true and lasting love to grow? Oh, what a confusion! Elizabeth’s head felt like it was spinning with all the rules her husband kept hinting at. Am I the one so amiss in my thinking? she asked herself. Is it wrong to wish for laughter and shared secrets, an occasional embrace to show a specialness for one’s spouse? A longing for these very things brought loneliness and sadness. Without another word to her husband, Elizabeth stood up and took her leave, walking slowly back into the hall. Sara immediately intercepted her, and Elizabeth thankfully put her
confusing thoughts concerning her husband and his behavior aside. There was work to be done.

An hour later, Elizabeth felt very much like a limp rag. It appeared to her that no order could be undertaken until Elizabeth herself said the words, sometimes again and again until the servants understood just what she wanted. Most of the servants were untrained in the tasks she requested, and Elizabeth kept her patience. They were doing the best that they could.

“If Gerty breaks another cup we will not have enough for the drinks, Sara,” Elizabeth muttered when she heard a third crash.

Sara might have answered but Elizabeth couldn’t hear her over the wail coming from outside. She recognized the voice and knew little Thomas was terribly upset about something. Just as she was about to see what the problem was, the doors burst open and the little boy came flying into the great room. Roger was right on his heels, trying to grab the wolfhounds, who were busy nudging the youngster in his shoulder blades, propelling him along.

“They think you are playing, Thomas.” Elizabeth found she had to yell over his screams to be heard. She grabbed Thor, the bigger of the two animals, by the fur on the nape of his neck, while she watched Roger lunge for and miss the other, falling to the floor with a loud clatter. She almost fell down herself when her brother tackled the back of her knees and clung to her skirts. “Stop that screaming,” Elizabeth yelled, “or I will give you something to yell about.”