Authors: Dee Brice
“Moreover,” Gareth echoed, laughter in both voice and eyes,
“they have a coronation to plan.”
“Aye…if those wretched girls ever make up their minds,”
Pippa muttered.
“Will you not wish me happy, Pippa? Wish us happy?” Aida
asked softly.
Pippa rushed to Aida’s side. Kneeling at her aunt’s feet,
she buried her face in Aida’s skirts. “You know I
do
wish you all the
happiness in the world.” Brushing tears from her cheeks, she held out her hand
to Gaspar. “As usual I thought only of myself. Despite my years of training I…I
have no idea how to govern, let alone manage a household so large as Marchon
Castle.”
“You’ll learn,” her sisters and aunt assured her all
together.
“As Kerrie—may she rest in peace—had to learn when our
mother died. As I had to learn when Kerrie assigned me the role of chatelaine. ‘Tis
one thing to train, quite another to carry out those duties. I think every maid
and footman expected Kerrie and me to make a mess of things.”
“But you managed splendidly,” Gaspar said, patting Aida’s hand.
Turning his attention to Pippa, he added, “Besides, we’ll not be that far away.
Should you need us—”
“Send a pigeon,” Aida finished, stroking Pippa’s auburn
curls.
Everyone laughed.
“Speaking of the twins—your sounding like them called them
to mind,” Vinn clarified. “When do you expect a decision from them? Willa grows
more anxious by the minute, worrying about Serenity.”
“I doubt Rowena will choose Serenity,” Gareth said. “Not if
she loves Edgar as much as I believe she does. Serenity will need constant
tending for many years.”
“And?” Yvonne bared her teeth, demanding the truth and all
of it—right now!
“Like your father Alexandre, Edgar likes to travel.”
Her leather slipper tapping the floor, Yvonne prompted,
“And?”
“Rowena seems to enjoy adventure. Moreover, I doubt Edgar
will leave her at Serenity while he trades his way…here and there.”
Yvonne murmured, “Edgar is a trader.”
“Like your father,” Gareth repeated. “Edgar has proven
himself a very canny trader.” Turning his head, he met Willa’s turquoise gaze.
“Does it matter who rules Serenity, Willa? Would you object to Edina and Gerard
having your lands to rule?”
“No.” She sighed. “’S’truth, I pray Rowena
will
choose Beaufort. With her training and an established staff in place, she’ll
find it easy—easier at least—to travel with Edgar.” A blush staining her
cheeks, she confessed, “Moreover…I thought Edgar too young to command seasoned
troops. But I now see that leading treks
here and there
admirably
qualifies him for Beaufort. As Gerard’s greater maturity more than qualifies
him to rule Serenity. To share rule with Edina.”
“Then we’ve settled it. Good,” Banan said as he stood.
“No!” four women protested.
“The choice,” Willa said to Banan, “remains with the twins.”
“Then we must wait,” Banan muttered. Sighing as he sat, he pulled
Pippa onto his lap.
“Think of it as waiting for a new foal to appear,” Pippa
advised, stroking her husband’s cheek. “Or waiting for a baby’s birth.” She
gently touched her stomach, holding out her other hand to Banan.
“Are you—?”
“Breeding? I believe I am, m’lord. Duke or duchess, your
heir.” She gave him a pleading look.
“Aye, love. Duke
or
duchess,
our
heir.”
With her sisters and aunt now crowding around her, Pippa
smiled through her tears.
“Small wonder you tried to pick a fight,” Willa said,
laughing.
“Small wonder,” Aida echoed wiping tears from her eyes, “you
want us to remain here at Marchon Castle.”
“I…Banan and I would like that very much, wouldn’t we?”
Looking as if he’d rather she consign him to hell, Banan
nodded.
Yvonne noted his soft smile seemed to admit he owed the
meddling couple.
“Aye, Pippa. Duke or duchess, our heir. I knew I’d prove the
better man,” he said, standing to clamp his hands on Gareth’s and Vinn’s
shoulders.
“Not exactly,” Yvonne and Willa chorused then fell into each
other’s arms. Pippa—everyone—joined in, bestowing handshakes and kisses and
toasting to everyone’s health.
“Well,” Banan said when the merriment subsided, “it appears
we all shall remain at Marchon Castle. How long…? Er, when are you all due?”
“February,” Yvonne said, her gaze fastened on Gareth’s happy
face.
“March, I believe,” Willa said, grinning at a
shocked-looking Vinn.
“Aye, when the orchard is awash with apple blossoms in
full-bloom,” Vinn agreed before kissing his wife’s cheek.
“And their scent no longer assaults our bellies,” Pippa
added as Banan kissed her palm. “Or so I hope. April for our babe, Banan.
Youngest, like her mother.”
“Or his. At last,” he said, “something more to celebrate!”
* * * * *
Yvonne’s Solar—The Next Morning
A firm rap took Gareth’s attention from his wife’s training
with her men to her solar door. “Enter,” he called, turning to find Basil
stepping in then half closing the door.
“If the time is inconvenient, Gareth, I can return later.”
Mistrusting Basil’s motives for seeking him when Yvonne was
occupied elsewhere, Gareth motioned the older man to a chair. “Now will do as
well as another time.”
After shutting the door fully, Basil sat. “Before we consent
to our daughters marrying your brothers, Beatrix and I would have a boon from
you,” Basil said, a hint of obsequiousness in his voice.
Gareth’s wariness increased. Shrugging to hide his
stiffening posture, he suggested, “Any boon is up to Yvonne to grant.
You—better yet Beatrix—should ask her.”
Basil cleared his throat. “’S’truth, your lady wife
intimidates my wife.”
“Then
you
should ask Yvonne on Beatrix’s behalf.”
Basil heaved a sigh. “I’d rather keep this between us.”
“Then you need to be more forthright. What is the favor
you
want, Basil?”
“Before I tell you what I want, I must first confide
something about Rowena.”
Sitting on the pillowed window seat, Gareth nodded his
willingness to listen.
“A short time ago Rowena fancied herself in love with one of
my barons. Roland…Roland was ambitious. I believed he might seduce Rowena in
order to gain Beaufort, so I sent him away. Which broke Rowena’s heart.”
Sensing Basil would welcome questions about Rowena’s wounded
heart, Gareth took a moment for himself. Looking out the window, he saw that
Yvonne had shed her chain mail and now wielded her sword clad in trunk hose and
short chemise. Sweat dampened the short curls around her face and made the
linen cling to her breasts. Her men were accustomed to seeing her thus. His
men—those still at Puttupon—were not. Should he caution them not to ogle her or
risk her wounding those who stared? Realizing Yvonne would likely stick her
sword in
him
should he intervene, he chuckled.
Basil’s swearing drew Gareth’s gaze to the king. “You find
my daughter’s heart laughable?”
Gareth, refusing to be baited, said mildly, “How long ago
did Roland inflict this wound on Rowena?”
Basil coughed and looked away.
Pressing, Gareth said, “How short is a
short time ago
,
Basil? A few months or several years?”
“I only want to ensure my daughter’s happiness. I want to
send for Roland, bring him here so Rowena and he can be certain their
attraction no longer exists. ‘Tis fair to everyone involved—Edgar especially.”
Were Gareth at Puttupon he would quiz Basil until the older
man admitted his lies. But here in Marchonland it remained Yvonne’s decision.
He trusted her to see beneath Basil’s bluster and to learn the truth as to why
Basil wanted Roland here.
Standing, Gareth said, “I shall inform my brothers their
weddings are delayed…a short time.”
“If Yvonne agrees to send her pigeons—as she did to request
Beatrix’s and my presence here—I believe we can expect Roland within the
fortnight.”
“From where will he arrive?”
Basil’s upper lip curled. “The queendom of Outerford. It
seems, Gareth, our kingdoms are surrounded by women.” Halting at the door, he
looked back. “May I have your word you won’t disclose our conversation to
anyone?”
“Unless
you
wish to explain to my brothers, I must
offer them an explanation of some sort.”
“Tell them…tell them the seamstresses need more time to make
the brides’ gowns. If they fail to understand a woman’s desire to look her best
at her wedding,” he shrugged, “they aren’t the men we believe them to be.”
When I learn your true desires
, Gareth vowed,
I
shall show you what kinds of men my
brothers
and I are
.
* * * * *
An hour later Yvonne burst into her solar. Noting her
furious expression, Gareth stood and gestured at their bedchamber. “A bath
awaits, my queen. The tepid water may cool your temper as well as your body.”
“Were he not the twins’ father, I’d use King Basil for my
target! Delay the weddings for some lowly baron! Test Rowena’s true feelings
for Edgar! Pfft!”
Knowing Yvonne only used her mother’s favorite word when
truly angry, Gareth took her hand to lead her to their inner chamber.
“I despise liars! I threatened him—I had to threaten a
king
with the oubliette before he confessed what he wants.”
“Which is?” Gareth’s voice—mild with a hint of
demand—brought Yvonne’s gaze to his face.
Exhaling, she laughed. “I should have known he’d come to you
first.”
“King to king, aye.”
“Man to man,” she corrected, clearly disgusted. Pulling the
laces on her gambeson, she sauntered close enough to tug Gareth with her.
“Wouldst bathe with me, husband?”
“I’ll scrub your back.”
She eyed him as she finished undressing. “I suspect you are
withholding favors until I tell you Basil’s true reasons for bringing Roland to
Marchonland.”
“Trust me, Yvonne. Were supper farther away, I would join
you. I’m rather fond of Kerrie’s bath.” He held Yvonne’s hand as she stepped
over the copper tub’s high side then settled into its depths.
“’Tis not too cool,” she said, fastening her auburn tresses
atop her head. She slanted him an inviting look that almost undid his resolve
not to join her. He shook his head. She thrust out her lower lip, making him
laugh before kissing away her pout.
Easing back, looking into her eyes he saw that she was still
angry. “If we are to present a united front on this Roland matter, shouldn’t I
know Basil’s wishes?”
She handed Gareth a cloth and bar of lavender-scented soap.
As he washed her slender back she said, “Basil wants Rowena to have everything.
Beaufort, Serenity and, were you not already married, Puttupon. Since Gerard
is—until our babe’s birth—your heir,
he
is as close to gaining Puttupon
as Basil can get. Yet.”
“He has no such plans for Edina?”
“Were the heir to Outerford out of swaddling, I believe
Basil would have her marry him.” Standing, Yvonne steadied herself on Gareth’s
shoulder and stepped out of the tub. “Oh, I almost forgot. Basil has already
sent for Roland who should arrive within the week.”
At her wry tone, Gareth stopped drying her. “So Roland is
simply a pawn in Basil’s schemes. High-handed—”
“Arrogant would-be usurper,” Yvonne finished for him.
“How’d you get that information from him?”
Yvonne bared her teeth, her warrior look giving her answer.
* * * * *
The Next Morning
Anchored in the middle of the Marchon River, the servants
awaiting on the shore to serve them nuncheon, Beatrix said, “I have never
fished before.”
Laughing, Yvonne finished baiting the queen’s bone hook and
settled the fishing pole in Beatrix’s hands. “’Tis a curious thing, but I find
fishing calming. And there is a certain satisfaction when the fish appears on
my trencher and I pretend ‘tis the very fish I caught myself.”
“Yvonne is very good at pretending,” Pippa advised Beatrix
and the twins. “’S’truth, even if we catch not a single trout, she will claim
she caught enough to feed everyone.”
“Both in the village and within the castle,” Willa added,
laughter in her voice.
“Beaufort lacks a barge like yours,” Rowena told them,
gazing up at the canopy shielding them from the bright morning sun. “’Tis large
enough to sail all the way to Beaufort.”
“Were the rivers between here and there wide and deep enough
to allow it,” Willa said.
“I believe our new brothers taught Rowena and Edina how to
fish,” Pippa volunteered, mischief in her tawny eyes.
“Did you tickle the trout?” Yvonne asked, having noticed the
grimace the twins exchanged. Obviously they had not enjoyed the fishing
lessons.
“T-Tickled?” Edina looked completely repulsed. “I couldn’t
even bring myself to touch one of those scaly creatures.”
“Nor could I,” Rowena admitted. “Which is why Gerard had to
remove those I caught from my hook.”
“Gerard?” Beatrix looked surprised. “I thought ‘twas Edgar
you favor.”
“I
love
Edgar, Mother.”
Seizing the opportunity to introduce the subject she most
wanted to discuss, Yvonne said, “As much as you loved…? I can’t recall the
baron’s name.”
“Roland?” Beatrix suggested, a frown marring her high forehead.
“How do you know about him?” Her frown deepening, she spat, “Basil!”
“Father told you?” Rowena whispered, her face blanched.
“Yes. In fact Basil has sent for him. Your suitor will
arrive a few days hence,” Yvonne told the pale girl.
“Wretched man,” Edina said, patting her sister’s clenched
hands then prying them apart to entwine their fingers.
“Why?” Rowena wailed.
Beatrix answered. “To test your love for Edgar and his for
you. Is that what my husband told you, Yvonne?”