Emma was halfway across the room when her cousin met her. Smiling, he bent slightly to
kiss her forehead in greeting.
Good morrow, sweet cousin. I trust you slept well? Aye, Emma sighed. And you? Like a babe.
Tis good, Emma murmured, moving past him and toward the door to the kitchens. Where go
you?
To get Lord Amaury some tea. His head is most like still paining him. The tea will ease
the ache and help him sleep.
He is already sleeping, Rolfe told her at once, falling into step beside her. I have just
left from seeing him. I stopped to tell him that the Lord Bishop and I intend to leave
today.
Today?! Emma paused abruptly and turned back at this news, her expression dismayed. But
you have only just arrived.
I have been here four days, he reminded her gently. Aye, but we have not yet had a chance
to visit. Aye. Rolfe smiled wryly. I had hoped we might have a chance to do so on the way
back to court.
However, with your husband being injured, it does not appear you will be able to travel
back with us.
Emma blinked at that. Why would Amaury and I have traveled to court with you?
He must pledge his fealty to the king as the new Duke of Eberhart.
Oh, aye. She peered at the floor unhappily, then perked up. Could you not delay your
return until my husband is well enough to travel? We could
Nay. Rolfe shook his head gently. The king is no doubt already fretting over the delay. He
most likely thinks that Bertrand succeeded in arriving before the wedding and disrupted
his plans.
Send a messenger.
Nay. None but those involved must ever be trusted with this information, Emma. Bertrand
must never find out that the king planned it this way. He would make much trouble. Smiling
at her woebegone expression, he gave her a brief hug. I shall give the king your greetings
and your gratitude and tell him to expect you and your husband to follow us in... He
raised one eyebrow. Two weeks?
Biting her lip, Emma peered down at her hands uncertainly. She had only been to court the
once, when she had gone to have her audience with the king. Her father had not cared for
court life, calling it promiscuous and corrupt. He had refused to take her there as a
child. On her first visit as an adult, Emma had found him to be right. She had arrived the
day before her audience and planned to stay for two or three days after, but had changed
her mind the first night. Truly, she had never thought to see so many peacocks in one
room, and such spiteful birds they had been too. They had taken great delight in trying to
humiliate Emma her first night at dinner, tittering loudly behind their hands about how
dowdy and unsophisticated she was.
It was the truth. Next to them she had probably appeared a dull little wren in her plain
unfashionable clothes. But then she spent most of her time in the country, and who had she
to impress? Still, it had not been their comments and insults that had upset her and
changed her mind on staying over. It had been Rolfes furious reaction. He had been
offended on her behalf by just one of the comments of a less cautious lady. Had Emma not
stopped him, she suspected he would have replied scathingly to the unfortunate creature,
but she had stopped him and soothed his temper with a slightly amused smile.
Emma probably had more wealth than all of them put together. That was what made the ordeal
almost amusing. She could surely afford raiments ten times more fine than their own, or at
least equal to them. Emma had not brought land or livestock to her husband as dower; those
had remained behind for Rolfe. Emma had brought riches, all those she had inherited from
her mother, plus more added by her father. She now suspected that that was the only reason
Fulk had married her.EberhartCastle had been in sore need of an influx of monies when she
had arrived. It had not been far from crumbling down around the ears of its lord and his
people. Some of that money had been put to good use on her arrival, rebuilding and
refurbishing the estate until it once again resembled its former glory, but the amount of
funds it had taken to do so had been a mere fraction of her dower. Which was no doubt why
Lord Bertrand had been so eager to claim her along with the estate. Such riches were not
easily turned away.
Sighing, Emma peered at her cousin, recalling the anger he had displayed at the slight at
court. She had decided then that it was not worth it for her to remain after the audience.
Shed had no wish to shame her cousin, or see him upset by such petty behavior. Now she had
to consider her husband as well. She had no wish to shame him... Or to see him belittled
and shamed as well, she thought suddenly as she recalled Alden informing her that his lord
had only the two tunics: the one he had worn to his wedding and the one
he had been wearing the day he was attacked, a worn old tunic that was even more worn now
with its new rip at the arm.
Amaury was a duke now, and the Duke of Eberhart should not be so poorly garbed, she
decided grimly. Aside from that, there was the worry that he would surely die of a chill
if he slept unclothed every night.
Make it a month, Emma told her cousin now. And pray, do me a small favor when you
reachLondon ?
Rolfe raised his eyebrows questioningly.
Find the finest tailor in the city and send him out here. Tell him I will make it worth
his while and tell him to bring his finest fabrics.
Twas Fulks doing, Amaury. The poor girl has absolutely no confidence thanks to his
neglect. She thinks herself ugly. Did you know? I talked to Rolfe, her cousin, about it. I
like him by the by, he seems a fine fellow. At any rate, he claims her life was much
sheltered. There were few visitors to Kenwick. His uncle, her father, had little heart for
company after the death of his wife, it seems. He lived his whole life from then on for
Lady Emma and her cousin.
Amaury frowned as he watched Blake pace back and forth beside the bed. It was very rare
that he saw Blake this worked up. Amaury had half a mind to tell him to shut up and sit
down. He didnt like to see the man he had heard many a woman call as beautiful as an angel
this worked up over his wife, even out of indignation for her hurt feelings.
Shifting against his pillows with disgruntlement, he tugged a wrinkle out of the
bedclothes with a peevish flick. His wife had insisted he stay abed today to rest. He had
blustered and fretted over it at the time, but given in in the end because he was
frightfully tired. He had spent another restless night last night, tossing and turning as
he avoided touching the woman in the bed beside him. She had intended on taking a guest
room for the night when she had finally given in to his and everyone elses wish that she
sleep, but he had forbidden that, ordering her to sleep in the bed with him. She had
complied with the order most dutifully, waiting until everyone had emptied the room before
quickly changing into that god-awful black nightgown again behind the screen and slipping
into bed.
His lady wife had fallen asleep almost before she had fully laid her head on her pillow,
proving to him that she had been exhausted. He, however, had not been so fortunate.
Despite the exhaustion that had claimed him quickly after her delicate snores had filled
the room, Amaury had been unable to turn off his mind and fall into the deep sleep that
had been waiting to claim him. It was his thoughts, of course. Had he been able to control
their lecherous meanderings, he might have gained some rest. Instead, he had lain there
staring at her sleeping form and imagining what it would be like to make love to her...
properly... without two or three dozen people outside the door cheering them on as if they
ran a race.
He had finally drifted into a restless sleep just before the dawn, only to awake shortly
afterward when the sound of the chamber door closing quietly announced his wifes leaving
their room. She had returned moments later to catch him up, swaying on his feet as he
tried to reach his own clothes. She had, of course, immediately ordered him back to bed.
Amaury would have balked at her ordering him about... had he not been about to fall down
anyway. As it was, he had barely managed to arrange his collapse so that he fell across
the bed. Emma had helped him lie down properly in the bed, flushing and turning her face
away from his nakedness, then had informed him she would fetch him some tea.
Despite his arguments that he was not tired and need not stay abed, he had found himself
dozing off shortly after she had left him, only to be awakened moments later by Lord
Rolfe. Emmas cousin had stopped in to inform him of his and the bishops leave-taking.
Amaury had listened to that information with a distinct lack of interest, but managed a
somewhat sincere Gods speed and safe journey before Rolfe had then turned the conversation
to his cousin. Amaury had quickly deduced the real reason behind the mans visit as Rolfe
set about lecturing him on how to treat her, adding dire threats of the consequences
should he abuse her in any way.
He had been mightily angered at first by Rolfes belief he had the right to interfere, but
then Amaury had reined in his temper enough to admit to himself that had the positions
been reversed, he most likely would have done the same thing. That being the case, rather
than grab up the sword beside the bed and hack the man down where he had stood wagging his
finger at him, Amaury had merely closed his eyes and feigned sleep halfway into the
lecture. It had taken a few moments and a couple of snorts and snores before Lord Rolfe
had noted his feigned sleep; then he had muttered a few disgruntled words and left him to
it. But it was a mere moment later when his friend Blake had then burst into the room.
At first, Amaury had been glad of his friends arrival, thinking to ask him to have Little
George take some men out and see to the removal of his problem of bandits in the woods,
being careful, of course, not to harm anyone carrying a bow. He had no wish to repay the
man who had saved his life with death as a gift. But before he could even utter a
greeting, Blake had blurted out the conversation he had had at the table with Emma and
begun ranting and raving about the sad state of her esteem and how he felt Amaury should
handle it. Which he was still doing, Amaury noted with some disgust as he resumed
listening to his friends words.
Truly, it was most insulting the way everyone thought he needed guidance in dealing with
his wife. Did they all really think him such a bumbling fool?
You must help her rebuild her confidence, Amaury. She is in sore need of flattery. You must
You must stop telling me how to take care of my wife and mind your own business! Amaury
finally snapped.
Blake stiffened at that. I was only
Butting in where you are not needed. Find your own wife to take care of.
Blakes disgruntlement disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, amusement taking its
place. My apologies, Amaury. I did not mean to make you jealous. I knew not that you were
so fond of her already.
Amaurys eyes narrowed at once. I am not jealous. Aye, you are. Nay, I am not. Aye, you are.
I am noooh! Amaury grabbed his head and groaned as a shaft of pain shot through it when he
began to roar.
I knew you were. Blake laughed, then turned and quickly left the room.
Muttering, Amaury lay back in the bed and closed his eyes. Perhaps now he could get some
sleep, he thought grimly. Truly it was impossible to do so with his sweet little wife
lying beside him. He wondered briefly what his wedding night might have been like had Fulk
actually seen to the consummating, then realized with a bit of a start that there very
well might not have been a wedding had that been the case. Lady Emma most likely would
have had a couple of bairns and the freedom to marry or not as she wished. Lord Bertrand
would have been no threat to her.
That thought was a bit dismaying. But for Lord Fulks peculiarity in not bedding his wife,
Amaury would not be lying here... in this bed... in this castle... with a sweet little
wife who disturbed his sleep.
Sighing, he turned his head to peer out the window beside the bed, only realizing then
that it wasnt an open window at all as he had thought the first night. It was glass. Damn!
His castle had glass windows, he realized with a smile. It was an expensive item and not
all that common. He had seen glass in but one other castle to date, the kings.
He had glass windows, he thought with pleasure, then shook his head once again. It was
amazing to him that Fulk had not wished to stay here. Imagine... A beautiful wife, glass
windows... What else could a man ask for?
Recalling his stalling on the trip here and the assumptions he had made as to her looks,
he grimaced, but did not feel too foolish at his assumption that she would be a hag. What
else was he to think? By all accounts, they had been married some two years and Fulk had
not only not bothered to bed his wife, but had kept her a veritable secret from all
ofLondon . Perhaps all ofEngland .
Which was probably how his wife had reasoned that she must be ugly, Amaury realized now.
After all, Blake had said Rolfe had told him that there had been few visitors to her home
as a child. That her time had been spent mostly with her father and cousin. There would
have been no one to court her or to tell her of her beauty but the two men she knew loved
her. When her husband had neglected her so, there would have been very little else for her
to think but that she was unattractive.
It was the truth, Amaury thought on a sigh. Her confidence would be sorely lacking. She
was in powerful need of flattering and building up her esteem, and as her husband it was
his duty to recognize and fulfill her needs. That being the case, he had a great deal of
work before him, he thought with a frown. Aye, he would have to tell her of her beauty.
Drumming his fingers impatiently on the bed, he glared around the room. It was vastly
annoying that Blake had seen this need of his wifes before he had. After all, it was his
chore. Even more annoying, suddenly, was the fact that she was not at his side now. She
was somewhere in the castle, doing whatever it was women did to fill their time, while
Blakethe man Amaury had witnessed women coo and faint overwas also somewhere in the keep.