His Bride Page 6

  Geoffrey said, “Allow me to show you the fine new horse Edmund has purchased.”

  She shook her head and gave him a rueful grin. “You know I am afraid of horses. How many times did you try to make me ride one on our journey here?”

  “I promise to be on my best behavior, my lady. Just come with me and see it.”

  When he took her arm, she reluctantly allowed him to lead her into the cool, dim interior of the stables. A group of soldiers clustered about one stall, and in their midst, a head taller than any of them, was her husband. He wore a black doublet and breeches this day, with just a hint of white shirt ruffle at his neck.

  He turned and stared at Gwyneth and Geoffrey. She felt herself blush. The soldiers couldn’t know that she was nervous and embarrassed. They obviously thought her blush was the result of the wedding night, for they elbowed each other and grinned.

  All except Geoffrey, who looked from Gwyneth to Sir Edmund with a troubled frown. Mortified, she wondered what he knew.

  Then Sir Edmund was walking toward her, and she noticed nothing else as his gaze swept from her face down her body. Once again, she felt strange and nervous, as he somehow affected her without even a touch.

  Chapter 5

  Edmund hadn’t known what to expect from Gwyneth after he’d abandoned her on their wedding night. Anger? Relief? But as he approached her, she lifted her chin and smiled at him, like a pleasant, contented wife greeting her husband.

  “A good day, my lord,” she said softly.

  Behind him, he could hear the laughter of his men as they imagined how he must have made the day good for her. He knew she’d slept late this morn, and he was sure the entire castle thought it knew why. But he knew she was exhausted because she’d waited up late for him, and he crushed any feelings of guilt. He was not going to remain married to her.

  But he wouldn’t embarrass her either, so he took her arm, which felt surprisingly sturdy, and led her out of the stables. Whatever she had to say didn’t need to be said before an audience. Geoff caught his eye and frowned, but he would deal with his friend later.

  He led her to the neglected lady’s garden in the corner of the courtyard. Long ago it had been well planted for the enjoyment of the lady of the house, but his first wife had never stayed here long enough to see it replanted. He showed Gwyneth to a bench overgrown with ivy, but she shook her head and looked up at him.

  “Did you need something?” he asked.

  She hesitated, her gaze searching his face. They stared at each other, and he fought the urge to caress the smooth skin of her cheek, to brush back the blond tendrils that clung to her temples.

  “My lord, I wanted to thank you for the gifts of clothing you left in my chamber.”

  Gifts? And then he remembered Elizabeth’s gowns, and he suddenly wished he’d burned them all, for he did not want to see them on Gwyneth.

  She clasped her hands before her, and her words came tumbling out. “I hope it does not offend you, but I do not wish to wear them. Elizabeth and I are—were not gifted with the same shape, and besides, such garments are for a court lady.”

  “But you will go to court some day.”

  Her eyes widened. “Are you sending me there?”

  “Nay.” He watched the relief come over her face. Was she glad not to be sent away from her mission too soon?

  Perhaps she just didn’t like wearing another woman’s gowns. But as he looked again at her plain ensemble, he suddenly had a wish to see her in fine garments made to accentuate her small figure. Even the gown she wore now, though subdued in color, could not detract from the lovely brightness of her hair and the healthy glow of her skin.

  Edmund knew he was staring at her, which didn’t help his determination not to touch her. The image of her sleeping was burned into his brain, into every waking second.

  He took a sudden step away, and when hurt flashed briefly in her eyes, he didn’t acknowledge it.

  “I shall have Mrs. Haskell put the garments in storage,” he said. “Someone might have need of the fabric or trim some day.”

  “Thank you, my lord. Also you might want to examine the precious stones sewn on the gowns. You could use the small wealth for other things.”

  Precious stones? He had not even imagined that Elizabeth’s gowns might help feed the estate. He tried not to look too approving as he said, “That is indeed a good thought, and I shall investigate the matter.” He started to step around her. “If that is all, my lady—”

  But she surprised him by catching his elbow and letting her touch linger as their gazes met. She felt warm even through his clothing, and he knew perspiration was breaking out on his forehead. If this was how he reacted to her every look, every touch, he would have to stay far away from her.

  “Nay, my lord, I have one more question.”

  He wanted to shake her hand off, but she sent almost a pleading look at him. Would she ask when he would come to her? What would he say?

  But with a soft sigh, she said, “I need to know what my role is here.”

  “Your role? You are the lady of the castle. Do as you wish.”

  “As you may know, Sir Edmund, I have never been a lady of the castle.” Her smile shone with healthy, white teeth and hint of teasing.

  “Then ask Mrs. Haskell.”

  “You would not be…embarrassed that she would think me ignorant?”

  He frowned down at her. “’Twas not long ago that the entire estate knew of my ignorance where land ownership was concerned. I was not raised to this life.”

  “And I neither,” she said softly.

  He looked into her grateful eyes and knew he’d made a mistake by showing her that they had things in common.

  “But I am learning,” he continued gruffly, deliberately sliding his arm out from under her hand. “You will learn as well. I find Mrs. Haskell to be a reasonable woman, and I’m certain she’ll gladly teach you.”

  “I thank you, my lord.”

  As he limped away from her, she called out, “Will you be joining us for supper?”

  “If I can,” he answered, relieved to get away.

  Gwyneth remained still, absorbing the peaceful sounds of insects in the garden, trying to let the calm suffuse her. She watched her husband hastily leave her presence as if she were a demon sent to torture him instead of a wife who only wanted his company.

  He walked through the courtyard, and she saw the bowed heads of each servant he passed. He didn’t have their respect, only their fear. When the soldiers greeted him, it was obvious they had known him longer and trusted him, which was good to know.

  But at least he had answered some of her questions. She could decide her own course here, whether to be heavily involved, or allow the capable Mrs. Haskell to command. Gwyneth thought she would try a bit of both at first, so as not to offend the woman. It was comforting to know that her husband could understand her ignorance, for he had suffered the same and freely admitted it.

  But as to the question of her marriage, she was still as confused as before. He was allowing people to think they had a normal marriage, judging by the way his soldiers acted. He didn’t look sick with the effects of a night spent drinking, and he had given her no other excuse. She so wanted to blurt out her questions. Why didn’t you come to me? What have I done? They’d been in her thoughts constantly, but embarrassment had finally won out.

  She would just have to hope that she’d made a start to their marriage by conversing with him, by acting as normally as she could. She would force herself to be patient. And if she discovered things about his first marriage that helped her understand him—all the better. After all, maybe he was just giving her time to get used to him, and he would come to her tonight.

  She kept that thought with her for the rest of the day, even as she went to the weaving chamber to take stock of how much fabric they needed for the coming winter and discover why there weren’t more girls spinning.

  When Sir Edmund didn’t arrive for supper, she asked Lucy and
Mrs. Haskell to eat with her, and Geoffrey joined them later.

  From the depths of the castle, Edmund found it was easy to keep track of where Gwyneth was and avoid her that evening. Anywhere there were cheerful voices raised and laughter heard was where Gwyneth could be found. He stood at the end of the corridor in the vacant wing of the servants’ quarters and listened as she took her evening meal.

  Afterward he stood high on the battlements, although still below Gwyneth’s tower, watching the servants slink away by ones and twos almost secretively, as if they thought he would stop them. As long as they played their part in bringing Castle Wintering back to prosperity, he didn’t care where they lived. As the darkness deepened and the wind picked up, he inhaled the rich smell of the Swaledale valley and was thankful.

  Up in the tower, a glow grew steadily brighter as someone lit candles against the night. Soon he saw the shadow of a woman cross in front of the window. She stood there a moment, as if she was looking out, searching for something in the darkness, before she finally drew the draperies closed.

  Edmund suddenly remembered to breathe. He put a hand on the wall to steady himself, as if without such an anchor he would again go to Gwyneth’s chamber and this time ease the lust that had kept him awake most of the previous night. He was used to unfulfilled desire. But now a woman waited for him. He knew it was just her duty or deceit, but still the knowledge of her there, perhaps naked beneath the coverlet, burned a hole inside him.

  He left the battlements and descended through dark stone corridors into the great hall. There was still a fire in the hearth, and Mrs. Haskell had left a pitcher of wine and a goblet on a low table next to his chair. In their corner, the dogs whined and lifted their heads in greeting, but were too tired from a day chasing chickens through the courtyard to do anything about it.

  He poured himself some wine, then almost knocked it over when a voice said, “Pour me another, will you?”

  Geoff leaned out from his cushioned chair and grinned up at him, holding out his goblet.

  Shaking his head, Edmund filled it to the brim, sat down in the other chair, and stretched his feet toward the hearth. With a sigh, he sipped his wine and closed his eyes.

  “So, what game do you play?” Geoff asked.

  He didn’t open his eyes. “Game?”

  “With your new bride.”

  “I am not playing a game. I married her; now she’s here.”

  “Considering that all I heard about this marriage was your order to escort her up from London, I’d really like to know more.”

  Edmund swallowed his wine. “There is nothing much to tell. The Langstons offered her to me. I accepted her and the dowry.”

  “You swore you’d never marry a daughter of a noble house again,” Geoff said in a low voice, as if someone could be listening.

  He found his own voice dropping. “I was about to lose Wintering, and the dowry was attractive.”

  “Of course it couldn’t have been Gwyneth’s attractiveness, because you’d never met her.”

  He glanced at Geoff, wondering if that was sarcasm in his voice. But his friend seemed merely weary as he stared into the fire.

  “Geoff, do you have something to say?”

  “I saw you out in the courtyard last night.”

  Edmund sighed and drained his wine. “What of it?”

  “You didn’t go to her, did you?”

  He gave no answer.

  “I saw you watching her when her coach arrived yesterday afternoon. You made sure that no one was there to greet her, and you deliberately remained hidden. Edmund, what is going on?”

  “You need not concern yourself with this. I mean the girl no harm, if that is what worries you.”

  “You don’t mean to do anything, do you?”

  Geoff turned and looked directly at Edmund, who met his gaze impassively.

  “I spoke to her often on our trip north,” Geoff said. “She’s a good woman, Edmund, far superior to your first bride.”

  “But she is still a Langston, is she not?”

  Geoff let out a low whistle and sank back in his chair. “So that’s it. She’s related to your first wife—”

  “And her family,” he interrupted.

  “—so you’ve decided not to give her even a chance.”

  “That’s too simplistic, Geoff.”

  “Then please explain it to me. I can only imagine how she felt on her wedding night when you didn’t come to her.”

  “Probably relieved,” he said mildly.

  “Don’t be a fool. I spent the afternoon with her. I saw how desperate she is to be accepted here.”

  Edmund surged to his feet and set his goblet down hard. It teetered onto its side and crashed to the floor, wine soaking through the rushes. “Maybe only you think so. Or maybe she’s doing a damn fine job acting that way.”

  Geoff stared up at him. “You think she has some wild plan you don’t know about?”

  Edmund took a deep breath and raked a hand through his hair. “I know for certain that the Langstons do. When I negotiated this marriage, the earl deliberately challenged me to best him. He said if I accepted Gwyneth and the dowry, I would have to be on the watch for his manipulations and plots. He means to see me humbled and even ruined, because he thinks I’m the reason Elizabeth died.”

  “And you went along with this?” Geoff demanded.

  Edmund shrugged. “I could not resist such a challenge. And I needed the money above all else. He enjoyed seeing me in no position to refuse him,” he added dryly.

  “So that’s why you had me be on guard for strangers.”

  “Aye.”

  “But surely you don’t think Gwyneth—”

  “She was given to me by the earl, Geoff. She could be a spy—or the means of my destruction. I certainly won’t trust her.”

  “Just promise me you’ll give Gwyneth the benefit of the doubt. She could be innocent.”

  His words were proof that Edmund needed to keep his own plans secret from his friend. “I shall try,” he said, bending down to pick up the shards of his goblet.

  “There is one other matter,” Geoff said. “Remember that man at your wedding, the one who made you so suspicious?”

  “Aye.”

  “I think he was here on your land today.”

  Edmund stiffened. “Why was I not informed earlier?”

  “Because I didn’t connect this incident with the man at your wedding until you mentioned your worries about the Langstons. I received a report about a stranger wandering through the uplands of the dale above the northwest cattle pasture. I thought it was just a traveler, but the description of his garments, especially that fur hat he wears though ’tis summer, are too familiar to ignore.”

  “Was there any mention of his activities?”

  “None—and he’s probably gone by now, because this was after noon.”

  “Send some men up there. Have them take a couple of days to look around. I want to make sure that man has not hidden himself away on my property.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Only a Langston might know,” Edmund answered with an uneasy sigh. “And speaking of Gwyneth—”

  “You cannot think she knows this man.”

  “I know not what to think. But I have to be vigilant.”

  Shaking his head, Geoff smiled. “Very well. But I’m going to make the girl feel welcome, just in case.”

  Edmund only shrugged and turned away. “Good night, then.”

  He strode off down a dark corridor toward the servants’ quarters. When he found his own chamber, he closed the door firmly, wondering why it bothered him that Geoff wanted to be Gwyneth’s friend.

  In the dead of the night, Edmund found himself outside Gwyneth’s door again. As he lifted the latch, he told himself he would not come here again. As he walked softly to stand beside the bed, he swore he was just relieving his curiosity.

  This time she lay on her back, the coverlet at her waist. Her night rail, though pl
ain, lovingly hugged her curves and more than displayed the duskiness of her nipples. He stood above her and stared, as if that would somehow ease the fire that was in his groin instead of inflame it further. Her halo of hair, spread out across the pillow, drew him. He touched one curling lock, rubbed its softness between his rough fingers.

  With a sigh, she suddenly turned her head, and if he hadn’t let go, she would have felt the tug on her scalp. He backed away from her bed and left the chamber before he could touch anything else. At the base of the tower he stumbled, and his foot hitting the wall made a soft echo. He hurried on.

  Gwyneth opened her eyes and sat upright, startled awake. Dawn had not yet touched the sky, and beneath her the castle was still a silent presence.

  That was what had awakened her—she’d thought something disturbed the stillness. She was so far removed from the rest of the castle up here in her tower that for a sound to reach her meant someone was within the tower itself. Had Sir Edmund come to her then changed his mind?

  She flung off the blankets and lit a candle at the hearth. Holding it over her head, she leaned out the door and looked down the staircase, which circled around into the dark. Cautiously she went down. In the corridor, she paused at Lucy’s door but heard nothing. No fires burned in the great hall itself, and it seemed a black, cavernous void spread out around her, with no ceiling and no end.

  But she could have sworn she’d heard the soft rustle of the rushes just before she entered the room. It had been toward the back, where the two suits of armor stood guard at a corridor.