Margaret Moore - [Warrior 14] (6 page)

“But surely, my lord, even if your lands are safe, a lone woman shouldn’t—”

“She’ll be safe,” his host interrupted in a tone of finality. “She’s been doing this for years, and there’s not an outlaw who could catch her, anyway.”

“My lord, surely there must be a soldier or two who could keep up with her,” Blaidd persisted, appalled to think the man had so little concern for a daughter’s safety.

“And
I
told
you,
she’s been giving us the slip since she was a little girl,” Lord Throckton replied, smiling but clearly losing his patience. “I’ve tried warning her, ordering her, frightening her, and she still won’t
listen. Short of tying her to her bed, I’ve run out of ideas. If you have any, young man, I’ll listen—but I won’t guarantee they’ll work.”

Blaidd realized he’d protested too much, and sought to lessen the damage. After all, Lady Rebecca was her father’s responsibility, not his. “I’m sorry, my lord.”

Lord Throckton’s annoyance fled as quickly as it had arisen, and he clapped Blaidd companionably on the shoulder. “Well, in most cases, you’d be right about the risk, but this is the exception. Still, it says a lot that you felt concerned enough to speak out. Spare me the spineless stripling who says only what he thinks I want to hear.” His hand fell as he turned. “Now where in the name of the saints is Laelia? It’ll be noon before we’re gone at this rate.
Laelia!
” he bellowed, the name echoing off the walls and drawing everyone’s attention.

“Here, Father! There’s no need to shout,” the lady said as she appeared at the entrance to the hall, blushing and looking prettily upset. “I was just putting on my cloak.”

And a beautiful cloak it was, of soft, dark blue wool trimmed with fox, with a hood that framed her beautiful face. Beneath the cloak, Blaidd spied a skirt of lighter blue wool.

The groom holding the white mare led it forward.

Blaidd immediately offered to help Lady Laelia, an offer she didn’t decline.

As he held his hands for her to step into, he glanced
toward the gate again, to see Lady Rebecca swing into the saddle unaided.

He could just imagine the look she’d give him if he’d offered to assist her.

The pressure of Lady Laelia’s foot in his palms reminded him of what he was supposed to be doing.

And that he should pay attention to her, not her sister.

T
here was one good thing about the delay leaving Throckton Castle that morning: the road was much less muddy than it would have been earlier. Although there were plenty of puddles, the higher ground was quite dry.

It was damper in the wood the hunting party entered. The hounds sniffed at nearly everything, and the horses’ hooves squelched in the mud. Several startled sparrows flew up into the cloudless sky and scattered. Occasionally a squirrel paused as it ran by on a branch, and stared at them as if wondering what they were doing there.

The beaters had gone on ahead, and the other servants, whose tasks were to transport the weapons, tend to the hounds and carry home the game, came behind, their voices hushed as they whispered together. Occasionally some of them laughed, and often in that burst of laughter, Blaidd distinguished the musical merriment of Lady Rebecca. She seemed to be
having a wonderful time. He, meanwhile, was riding between a silent Lady Laelia, who looked a little pale as she gripped her reins, and her father.

Another burst of laughter sounded, and this time, in addition to Lady Rebecca’s mirth, he recognized Trev’s boisterous, youthful crow of delight. Blaidd twisted to look over his shoulder, and sure enough, Trev had joined the lady, and the men walking on foot beside her mount.

“You must forgive my younger daughter,” Lord Throckton said, his lips a little thinned and his gray brows lowered in what was almost a scowl. “Becca spends too much time with the peasants. Always has. I can’t break her of that any more than riding away from her escort.”

Blaidd noticed that Laelia didn’t look pleased by her sister’s actions, either. “It’s a rare lady who feels so at ease with her servants and tenants,” he said, without indicating whether he approved or not.

In truth, though, he was reminded of some of the stories his father used to tell about his mother. She’d been delicately reared and had had, when they first married, a very firm and limited notion of what a lady did and what her relationship with those considered beneath her ought to be. Blaidd had always found that hard to believe, for the woman he knew cared for their tenants as if they were her family. He couldn’t imagine living in a castle where the nobles treated their servants like slaves.

“Tell me, is it true the queen is with child at last?” Lord Throckton asked.

Blaidd tried not to look surprised at the unexpected question. Perhaps Lord Throckton was desperate to take attention from his seemingly impossible younger daughter. “Yes, she is.”

The older man grinned. “From what I have heard of Henry’s affection for the girl, I’m surprised she hasn’t borne him an heir already. It’s been what, nearly two years since he married her?”

Blaidd shrugged. “Who can say why such things happen, even in the happiest of marriages? And she was little more than a child when they wed.”

“Too young,” Lord Throckton murmured, glancing at Laelia, who didn’t seem to hear.

“Already there have been several Masses of thanksgiving, and prayers for a son,” Blaidd noted.

“Naturally,” Throckton acknowledged with a nod. “Every man wants an heir.”

Blaidd heard an undercurrent of bitterness and didn’t begrudge the man. All noblemen hoped for a son to inherit their name and title and lands. So did Blaidd, although he wanted daughters, too. His father always said that with sons came grave responsibilities, while daughters gave a man joy.

“Or if God does not see fit to send a son, a man longs for a fine son-in-law to give him grandsons, if He wills,” Lord Throckton continued.

Blaidd smiled at his host. “My mother can hardly wait for grandchildren.” He looked woeful. “I’m afraid I’ve been a disappointment to her there.”

“Surely that will soon be mended, once you take
a wife. I’m sure any woman you wed will be more than willing to do her duty in your bed.”

“Father!” Laelia cried, scandalized and blushing. “What a thing to say!”

“Take no offense, my lady, for I don’t,” Blaidd said, grinning. “My father also says it’s a parent’s duty to embarrass his children, to pay them back for all those sleepless nights when they were infants.”

Lord Throckton roared with approving laughter, and the lady managed a little smile.

“Simon de Montfort continues to be a great favorite at court, especially among the ladies,” Blaidd said in an offhand way, turning the conversation back to the king and his court. He should make the most of this opportunity while he had it, and he most certainly didn’t want to discuss his failings as a son and heir.

“Who is that?” Laelia asked, her smooth brow wrinkling with puzzlement. “He’s sounds French.”

Blaidd nodded. “He was born there, but he’s renounced his claim to his French land and titles in favor of his English ones. The king recently recognized him as the earl of Leicester.”

“So he’s not one of the queen’s relations?” Lady Laelia asked.

“No. But many of the English barons were appalled by his marriage to the king’s sister. They feel they should have been asked if they approved or not, especially since it required her to break the vow of chastity she took when her husband died.”

“She took a vow of chastity?” Laelia cried in disbelief. “Whatever for?”

“Out of respect for her late husband, of course,” Lord Throckton answered. “That should have kept her well out of her brother’s political machinations, too. I was shocked she agreed.”

For a man who lived this far from London and never traveled to the king’s court, Lord Throckton was very well informed. Still, that wasn’t so very unusual. Blaidd’s own father rarely ventured from home, but he listened closely whenever Blaidd or his brother returned from court and spoke of what was transpiring there. Hu Morgan’s friends kept him informed, too. Who was to say Lord Throckton didn’t have friends who did the same?

“You haven’t met Simon de Montfort,” Blaidd explained. “He’s a very charming man of great abilities. Despite his birth, I think we can expect great things of him in the future. He believes in a permanent council, something he calls a parliament, to advise the king and administer the government. Many of the barons and knights like the idea.”

Lord Throckton frowned. “De Montfort had better keep quiet about that, or brother-in-law or not, he risks upsetting Henry, who’s got that Plantagenet temper—or so I’ve heard.”

Blaidd couldn’t disagree. “He does, but hopefully he’ll listen to Simon and appreciate his wisdom.”

“If he were really wise, he wouldn’t give so many honors and estates to his wife’s relatives,” Lord Throckton said. He eyed Blaidd shrewdly. “How is it you, a Welshman, don’t hate the man? His treatment of the Welsh has hardly been generous.”

“No, it hasn’t been, and I’m well aware of their just grievances. I’ve no liking for wars and battles, though, where so many can be killed for so little gain. I prefer diplomacy, so I try to represent the Welsh at court and speak for them whenever I can. Also, Henry is my lawful king, and I swore an oath of loyalty to him when I received my knighthood. I’m duty bound to honor it.”

“An aversion to violence? That’s an odd sentiment coming from a knight,” Lady Rebecca declared.

Blaidd hadn’t realized she and Trev had drawn so close.

He pulled Aderyn Du to a halt, letting Lady Laelia and her father ride ahead. When Lady Rebecca and Trev were beside him, he nudged Aderyn Du into a walk again. “Just because I’m trained to fight doesn’t mean I’m anxious to do so. I’ve seen bloody death, my lady, and I would spare all whom I care about from it, including the peasants who farm my family’s lands.”

“What if talk avails nothing? Then men must fight.”

“If all else fails, then yes, I agree it must be war. Yet I fear too many noblemen go to war for nothing more than personal power and greed, and don’t care who dies for their ambition.”

“A fine sentiment,” Lord Throckton said with approval as he looked back over his shoulder. “I only wish the king shared it.”

“I believe Henry
is
anxious to avoid war, my lord,” Blaidd said. “He’s a peaceable man by nature,
and perhaps overly generous. But he’s young and newly married. Hopefully, with age will come greater wisdom, and less of a desire to please his wife.”

“Yes, he’s young and liable to err. I suppose we all must have patience and give the man a chance,” Lord Throckton said as he faced forward again. “After all, it’s only natural to want to please your bride, even if she’s French. Perhaps especially if she’s French, eh?” he finished with a deep chortle.

They reached a fork in the road, where a path veered off to the west, through deeper woods and underbrush.

“I’ve had enough talk of politics and the king and war,” Lady Rebecca announced. “Farewell.”

Without any further ado, she punched her heels into her horse’s side and took off at a trot along the narrow path.

Nobody else seemed surprised, and Laelia even looked rather pleased. Blaidd was not. There might not be any outlaws on Lord Throckton’s land, but what if she fell? What if she injured her other leg?

He dare not risk offending Lord Throckton or Laelia by abandoning them; nevertheless, he simply couldn’t accept letting the lady ride alone. “Trev, go with Lady Rebecca.”

Trev looked crestfallen. “I’ll miss the hunt—”

Blaidd gave him a stern look, and a blushing Trev immediately did as he was told.

“That really wasn’t necessary,” Lord Throckton growled. “She’ll go to a gallop the moment she hits
the meadow on the other side of the wood, and he’ll never catch her.”

“I hope you’re right, my lord. It will do my squire good to discover that as excellent a rider as he may be, he can yet be bested by a woman,” Blaidd said, silently congratulating himself on thinking of this excuse.

No matter what he said to his host, he was confident Trev could catch up to the lady. He wondered what Lady Rebecca would say to Trev when he did. She surely wouldn’t be pleased, but it would likely do
her
good to realize she could be caught, and not necessarily by honest young men.

A man dressed in muddy tunic, breeches and boots came jogging toward the nobles. “The beaters are in place, my lord,” he panted, tugging on his forelock.

“Excellent!” Lord Throckton cried, his good humor apparently restored.

“If the hunt is going to begin in earnest, I should go back,” Laelia said softly, moving her horse off the road to make way for the hunting party.

“Good hunting, my lord,” Blaidd said as he dutifully did the same.

Lord Throckton called out to two brawny male servants, ordering them to return to the castle, too.

A wise move from a protective father, Blaidd reflected, taking no offense, as the hunting party rode off around them in a cacophony of hounds, hooves, excited voices and splattering mud.

“I’m sorry to keep you from joining them,” Laelia
said, her green eyes full of remorse, when they returned to the road and headed back toward the castle.

Blaidd immediately wiped any regret from his face. “It’s quite all right. I certainly don’t mind the company of a beautiful woman instead of hounds and horses.”

Laelia blushed and looked down demurely. “I suppose you’ve known many beautiful women at the king’s court.”

“A few, but none so lovely as you.” Blaidd inwardly cringed at his lack of originality. Unfortunately, he was discovering that Lady Laelia never inspired anything more genuine in the way of a compliment. “It’s a pity you’ve never been there.”

“My father doesn’t like to travel.”

“It can be dangerous,” Blaidd agreed.

“And uncomfortable, too, he says, staying at inns where you don’t know who was in the bed before you, or if there are fleas. And the food would probably be terrible.” She sighed sorrowfully. “I’d at least like the opportunity to see the king and the nobles and the fine ladies.”

“The fine ladies might be sorry to see
you,
for your beauty would outshine them all.”

She flushed very prettily. “I daresay there are few men as handsome or valiant as you at court.”

“There are many more handsome than I, and bravery can be measured many ways, my lady.”

She slid him a shy glance. “Tell me, do other men at court have hair as long as yours? Is this a new fashion?”

He laughed. “No, only a few. In this, I am woefully out of fashion.”

“Then why don’t you cut it?”

“Because I like it this way.”

Her shapely nose wrinkled a little. “But if it’s not the fashion at court…”

Keeping in mind the ostensible reason for his presence, he dropped his voice, but not so much to cause their two beefy escorts to come any closer. “Don’t
you
like it?”

She blushed bright red and didn’t meet his gaze. “It makes you look…uncouth. Like a savage.”

“That doesn’t appeal to you, my lady?”

She spoke with a decisiveness he hadn’t expected. “No.”

In the next moment, however, that brief vitality and surety had disappeared. “Of course, it isn’t for me to criticize, Sir Blaidd.”

“You are entitled to an opinion,” he said, not at all upset by her dislike of his long hair. He was relieved that she’d finally said something sincere. “To be sure, I’m not happy to hear you don’t approve of my hair, but if that’s what you really think, so be it.”

“You’re not angry?”

“No.”

“Or upset with me?”

He grinned. “Not a bit.”

She looked as if she didn’t really believe him.

“My lady, it’s a poor fellow who doesn’t care to know what a woman really thinks, about anything.
It’s not always pleasant to hear an honest opinion, I grant you, but I prefer that to evasion.”

“You really mean that, don’t you?” she asked incredulously, admiration shining in her eyes.

“Well, within reason, of course,” he amended.

Her lips turned down in a peeved frown. “Yes, some women are far too outspoken and forward.”

“I gather you’re speaking of your sister?”

“She can be very trying at times.” Laelia’s tone softened, and it didn’t seem she was being insincere when she said, “I try not to be too angry with her. It must hurt her terribly to think she’ll never get a husband. Between her leg and her tongue, what man would want her? Still, it’s a relief to know my father will have someone to look after him in his old age, after I am wed.”