Rosehaven (16 page)

“The fat one,” Hastings said.

“She must have meat on her to deal with a madwoman.”

Hastings wanted to choke his neck with her own hands. His neck was skinny. She could choke him, she knew it. She felt Severin close his hand over hers. It stilled her. She realized she was breathing fast and forced herself to ease. She saw the girl standing to Sir Roger’s left side. She was very young, plump, pretty, her hair light and thick, in fat curls down her back, held with a gold net. There was such a look of self-satisfaction on her face that Hastings’s
breathing speeded up again. Sir Roger had just proven himself a fool.

“Glenda,” Sir Roger said, “fetch our lord and lady some of the special wine and bread and cheese.”

The girl gave him a sullen nod and left the hall. Perhaps, Hastings thought, Glenda had eaten her mother-in-law’s food. Her bottom was good-sized. She would be as fat as that serving woman when she was twenty.

Sir Roger rubbed his hands together as he motioned Severin to the lord’s chair, its beautiful carved arm posts dull and dirty. He looked at Hastings and shrugged.

“You may remain standing by your lord,” he said to her.

“There is no lady’s chair?” Severin asked.

“It is in the lord’s bedchamber,” Sir Roger said.

Severin patted his leg. “She will sit here until you have the lady’s chair fetched for her, Sir Roger.”

“Oh, aye, my lord.” Sir Roger called to a ragged serving boy and spoke quietly to him. Then he straightened, his eyes going to Glenda, who was directing two servants who carried trays with wine, goblets, bread, and cheese.

The food was set upon a trestle table. Hastings rose and waited. Severin rose slowly, saying, “Sir Roger, bring my chair to the trestle table.”

The man gaped at him, then managed to pull the large chair to the nearest end of the table. “My lord,” he said. Severin knew exactly what he was thinking. He was a knight. What right did Lord Severin have ordering him to do a servant’s task?

Hastings sat on the bench at her husband’s right.

They drank the wine and ate the bread. No one said anything. Glenda sat herself at the other end of the trestle table beside Sir Roger.

“You told me that the money I have sent isn’t enough,” Severin said matter-of-factly. He tore a piece of bread off with his teeth.

“Aye, my lord. Mayhap I should not have mentioned it to you so soon after you arrived, but it is a concern. I have used the money wisely, but there is so much that needs to
be done before Langthorne regains its previous grandeur.”

Hastings kicked up some of the dirty reeds with the toe of her boot. “Aye, you are right, Sir Roger. I have always found that one must have money to keep a great hall clean. Sweeping up old reeds and replacing them must be more costly, though, than even I imagined.”

Sir Roger paid her little heed, merely shrugged and said, “There are few enough servants and they are a surly lot. Some even escaped Langthorne after the marauders devastated the area and killed your brother. I didn’t have enough men to catch them. My Glenda does her best with them, but it is difficult.”

“Aye, my lord,” Glenda called out. “The lot we have are pigs.”

She had a lovely musical voice. Her teeth were white and straight. She was rubbing herself against Sir Roger’s arm. The man’s eyes glazed. Sir Roger was an even bigger fool than Hastings imagined.

“There has been no work done on repairing the outer walls,” Severin said as he pushed the pewter plate out of the way and leaned forward on the trestle table. “Why?”

“There aren’t enough men, my lord.”

“Gwent told me that you have nineteen men. What do they do all day?”

“They patrol the area and improve their skills on the practice field.”

“As of tomorrow, you will divide the men into three groups. Whilst one group practices, another will patrol, and the third group will begin repairs.”

Sir Roger gulped.

“The money I sent was enough to hire workers from the villages around here to assist in the repairs. What have you done with the money, Sir Roger?”

“As I told you, my lord, the funds were only sufficient to keep us clothed and fed.”

“I have remarked upon all the servants here. They are ragged and dirty. My own mother was wearing a rag. If the money went for clothing, then who is wearing it?”

“There was no reason for your dear mother to have new
gowns, my lord. She is mad. She would not know it if she were wearing a new gown or an old sack.”

Hastings said very quietly, “What happened to Lady Moraine’s clothes? I could find only rags in that small trunk in the chamber.”

“Who is Lady Moraine?” Hastings heard Glenda ask Sir Roger.

“That is the woman of whom you are so very fond,” Hasting said. “That is the poor madwoman with whom you are so very tender and loving.”

“Glenda simply did not know your mother’s name, my lord. It is nothing more than that.”

“Where are Lady Moraine’s clothes?” Severin asked.

It was in that instant that Hastings knew. “Ah,” she said, in the mildest of voices, “I venture to say that perhaps her clothing is in one of the large trunks in the lord’s bedchamber?”

“Aye, that’s it,” Glenda said. “There was no reason for the poor dear mad creature to wear the gowns, so I removed them so she wouldn’t shred them.”

“I see that you are wearing one of them,” Hastings said.

“Oh no,” Glenda said. “I do not wear her gowns. The lady’s clothing was old and ugly.”

“I wish to see an accounting of the money I sent you, Sir Roger. Now.”

“There is no steward, my lord.”

“Then you will show me what records you have kept.”

Sir Roger rose slowly. He was sweating. “Indeed, my lord, I have not yet spent all the money. I have held it close. I have not spent it on needless things. I want to use it wisely. I am a cautious man.”

Severin rose slowly to his feet. He pushed back the lord’s chair. He stood there, tall, fierce, all in gray, his whip coiled about his hand, his expression unreadable even to Hastings. She fancied she could feel the fear rolling in waves off Sir Roger. She said not a word, just waited, watching her husband.

He strode to Sir Roger, leaned down, grabbed him about his tunic, and pulled his feet off the floor. He didn’t release
him. He said very quietly, “You will fetch the money right now. You will bring what records you have here to me.”

He shook him, then released him. He turned to Glenda, who wasn’t looking quite so complacent now. “You will bring me all the gowns you own. Now.”

He didn’t touch her, just watched her scramble from the bench and run toward the stairs.

To Hastings’s surprise, Severin turned back to her and winked. “Soon,” he said. “Soon we will have this mess cleared up.”

Hastings suddenly remembered when she had first seen him standing in the great hall of Oxborough. He had terrified her with his stillness, his utter control. Ah, but now he was her husband, her lover. He had just scared two villains spitless and he had winked at her.

Her heart swelled.

16

G
LENDA WASN
’
T STUPID. SHE HAD NOT LEFT HER GOWNS IN
the lord’s bedchamber. She knew the other servants hated her and thus would steal her precious clothes if they found them. She had kept them well hidden.

When she returned to the great hall with three gowns, several tunics, three shifts, and stockings, Severin merely turned to Hastings, who said, “I suggest, Glenda, that you bring the remainder of your clothes purchased with my lord’s money. If you do not, it will not go well with you.”

It was then that Glenda looked up at Severin, her blue eyes wet and bright with as yet unshed tears. “My lord,” she whispered, “there are naught but two more gowns. Please, my lord, I cannot go naked.” Her voice fell even lower. “I could please you, my lord, more than your lady does. She is a shrew with a loud voice. You wed her only to gain her father’s land and money. All know of the sacrifice you have made. I could ease your trials, my lord.”

Severin didn’t have time to answer. In the next instant, Hastings was on the girl. She grabbed a handful of hair, pulled her head back, and put her face right into Glenda’s. “Don’t you ever speak to my husband like that again, do you hear me, girl? You believe me some dumb cow who will just stand about and be insulted by you? Aye, I am an
heiress, but I am not at all ordinary. My lord will attest to that. You don’t know that I am a healer, do you? That means I can also take my revenge upon someone who angers me. I can make your monthly flux never stop. You would bleed and bleed until you were white and drained. You want that, Glenda?”

That was a threat Severin would never have considered. Glenda’s face was already leached of color. She looked terrified.

“Aye, my girl. Never forget that I am a shrew with a loud voice and you will be the first to hear it if you displease me again.” She shoved Glenda away from her. “Go fetch the remainder of the gowns. Get them all or I will see to it that your bleeding begins today.”

Severin watched the girl scurry toward the stairs like the Devil himself was after her. He turned to his wife, who was looking very strange. He expected her to be pleased with herself, but she didn’t appear to be. She was pale, not as pale as Glenda, but still without color. Her eyes had darkened from that pure, soft green to nearly black. He took a step toward her. “What is wrong, Hastings?”

She waved her hands at him. She didn’t want his questions. She just wanted to go bury herself. “It is nothing.”

He drew her up against him. She felt his large hands stroking down her back. “Come, tell me the truth, or I will not be pleased with you.”

She threw back her head. Her face was still pale, her expression pained. “I made a vow to the Healer. I was never to make a threat that I would mean.”

He stared down at her, feeling like a fool. He said very slowly, “And this is the first time you have done it. That means that you would not have given me watery bowels?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know how to. Nay, I wouldn’t have done that to you, even had I known what herbs to mix together.”

He cursed. “I don’t even remember now why you made that threat, but you deserved what I wanted to do to you. But then I thought of my bowels and hunkering down next to the pig byre. I let you be. Saint Elrod’s knees, why can
I not remember why I wanted to strangle you?”

“Mayhap it is no longer important.”

He frowned down at her, those dark blue eyes of his looking directly into hers. She believed he would no longer chastise her? Did she not understand that she had bent so completely to him, he had not even thought about it, that there had been no need? Very simply she had not displeased him since she’d run into his arms upon his return from visiting his new properties.

Suddenly, she whispered, “I shall have to confess to the Healer when we return to Oxborough. She will probably make my bowels watery as a punishment.”

That made him laugh, but he sobered quickly enough. “Then you really meant what you said to Glenda?”

She lowered her head and nodded. “Not now, but I meant it when I threatened her. She is a sly girl. Sir Roger is besotted with her.”

“He’s a fool.”

“Aye. I only hope that he has not betrayed you because of Glenda.”

Severin just shook his head, touched his fingers beneath her chin, and forced her face up. “This was some sort of vow you took to have the Healer teach you?”

She nodded, leaning her cheek against his palm. “The Healer has told me since I was just a little girl that I could not harm another person with my knowledge of herbs. She said that if I did, then all my potions would lose their efficacy.”

“Then you will forget that you were serious in your threat. All is still well. You are right, Hastings. Sir Roger is a fool. Ah, here he comes. This should prove interesting.”

Severin knew in his gut that there were coins missing from the thick leather pouch. He could see it in Sir Roger’s eyes, see it in the nervous movements of his hand when he handed Severin the pouch, see his guilt in the sheen of sweat on his forehead. And, he supposed, that is what made up his mind. He counted out the coins on the trestle table and frowned down at them.

“What did you plan to do with the money?” Severin asked, not moving, just standing there tall and strong and dark-browed as the Devil himself.

“I was waiting, my lord, waiting to see what was really needed.”

“Was I not very clear in my instructions? Have you not viewed the holes in the outer walls? Have you not seen the devastated fields? Have you not remarked the sullen faces all about you? By Saint Andrew’s eyeballs, you have done nothing but clothe yourself and your mistress. You have not even limed the jakes. The stench is overwhelming. Damnation, man, you’d best pray that the meal you will feed us reflects your buying of decent food.”

“I have held your money close, my lord,” Sir Roger said, and he looked scared now, very scared. “I have waited, but what is wrong with that? I have been here but a month and a half. Surely that is a very short time to expect anything. Surely. Besides, you should not have come here for another half year, at least.”

Glenda crept into the great hall. There were more clothes in her arms. She was not shaking like Sir Roger, but she looked as if she were on her way to judgment and knew herself guilty. She was.

“Hastings,” Severin said. “I would that you examine all the clothing she has brought us and select those things you think would suit my mother.”

Glenda squawked. “My lord, nay! Your esteemed mother is much thinner than I am. Your esteemed mother does not even know what her name is usually. There is no reason to give her lovely clothes. She would not know the difference. She would spit her food upon the gowns. She would piss on the shifts.”

Severin said very quietly, “It matters not what you believe. You are speaking of my mother. If you ever speak about her like that again, I will ensure that Hastings makes you bleed your life away. See to the clothes, Hastings.” He added to Glenda, “You will oversee the meal now. I assume that it is one of your tasks, to oversee the servants?”

She nodded, head down.

“Take Sir Roger with you. Sir Roger, make certain there are no stones in the flour. I like my bread to be soft on the inside. Ah, Gwent, I am glad you are come. We have much to discuss.”

Gwent spat on the reeds as he watched Sir Roger and his mistress walk quickly from the great hall. “Will you skewer the mangy whoreson?”

“I am thinking about that.” He pointed down to the piles of coins. “At least the fool did not spend it all on his mistress. But he did spend a goodly portion. I wonder why many men lose their wits over simple females?”

Gwent would not have gone near an answer to that inquiry. He merely looked grim, which is what he felt, and waited.

“What say you, Gwent, if Thurston takes over here?”

“He’ll whip the arse of every healthy peasant in the area to rebuild Langthorne and plant the fields and repair their cottages. Aye, and they’ll give him loyalty once their bellies are filled again and they have decent garments to wear on their backs.”

“I think so as well.”

That night, Severin looked down at his sleeping mother. He was surprised at how young she looked in her sleep, young and very clean. Hastings had combed her hair until it was dry, then braided it loosely. It looked soft and thick, a lovely pale brown. He said quietly as he backed away from the small cot, “I remember it was always thus. She would sleep and sleep and when she awoke, she would remember who she was and her mind would flow smoothly for a week or perhaps longer.”

“We will see. The Healer did not know if her potion would help her. I have the girl Glenda sewing the gowns for your mother. She is skilled. It surprised me. Your mother will have a new gown to wear on the morrow. I am willing to wager that it will fit her nicely.”

Severin walked to the bed, sat on the edge, and sighed. “Thurston is a good man. He will do his best, but it isn’t
enough, Hastings. What he needs is a good wife. Perhaps soon he can gain a knighthood.”

“Can you see that he is knighted?”

“Aye, I can.”

“If you knight him, then I will find him a wife who will see that the reeds are sweet-smelling, the meals are prepared well, the jakes are limed, and everyone goes about their duties without sullen faces.”

“Ah, and where will you find this paragon?”

She examined her fingernails. She was humming softly.

“Hastings?”

“I am thinking,” she said. “Perhaps your mother will have a proper lady in mind when she awakens.”

“Think you she sleeps too heavily?”

“Aye, the potion is strong.”

He nodded, rose, and began to remove his clothes. “Can you keep your screams in your throat?”

She gave him a slow smile. “And you, my lord? You bellow like a bull.”

He grinned at her. “We will do our best, but I must have you. It has been a very long time.”

Since the previous night, she thought, very pleased. The evening had been warm, the stars had filled the heavens, slanting light down through the oak branches. He’d led her into that ancient oak forest after they’d eaten roasted rabbit by the camp fire. There they’d caressed each other until Hastings had gasped, “Please, Severin, come to me else I’ll expire.”

But he hadn’t. When finally she had cried out, he gently reached his hand up and closed it over her mouth. When she had eased a bit he’d come into her and found his own pleasure.

“Aye,” she said now, still studying her fingernails. “A very long time. I have felt neglected. I have felt like a cow left overlong in the pasture.”

“Now you want me to milk you? Your jest went a bit awry, Hastings.”

She grinned at him. He patted her cheek with his hand, leaned down, and kissed her. He was whistling when he
began to unweave his cross garters. He was jesting with a woman. Nay, not just a woman. He was jesting with his wife. He had wanted to strangle her not that long ago. He had been strongly tempted to beat her. When he’d left Oxborough to visit his other holdings, he hadn’t ever wanted to see the witch again. Then the miracle. The epiphany. He remembered when he had forced her. Nay, not really forced her, for he had used the cream, but still, she hadn’t wanted him. She had hated him.

She no longer hated him. Why? he wondered. Now she smiled at him, welcomed him, and many times treated him as though he was the king. It made him feel very good.

He knew he should keep his mouth shut, should not question what God had wrought, but he didn’t. He waited until she was on her back and he was balanced on one elbow over her. He was looking down at her breasts. Not ordinary breasts at all. They were full and white and so very soft. He was lightly rubbing his finger over that soft flesh of hers. “Why did you change toward me? You hated me. You said I was an animal. You wished I would disappear from your life.”

She became utterly still.

“Hastings?”

“Will you push and push until you batter me down?”

“Nay, I am your husband. There should never be any need near for me to push you. It will be your joy to always tell me what it is I wish to know.”

“Very well. I can see that you will be Edgar the wolfhound with a beef bone. Dame Agnes and Alice told me to. Dame Agnes said that I had not enough experience in a woman’s ways to deal well with you. They told how this dealing worked with men. And since you are a man, they decided it would work with you as well. A smile and a kiss, and a show of interest in you, Severin, that is what they told me to do. I don’t think Dame Agnes believed I would succeed though. I believe she thought I would bite you rather than kiss you. But I did kiss you and it was very nice. I believe I tasted your surprise.”