Reina hissed through her teeth, "I will. And before you yap and yammer over that, know that 'tis as my father wished it. He offered me my choice of two men he approved of, but he died ere he knew my preference and could make contract himself. In telling Lord Guy 'twas done, he assured that I would still have one of these men. He could not know that it would be so difficult to reach them to put the matter to them, or that the news of his death would spread so fast that other men would be tempted to take me by force."
Walter stared at her incredulously. "What you have said is simply not done, demoiselle."
"Under these circumstances, 'tis most easily done. You forget Lord Guy believes my father already made contract, and on that belief I have his permission to wed. Lord Guy's castellan, Sir Henry, was to come to the wedding to accept my husband's homage to Shefford, and to obtain copies of the marriage contract. That is all that is necessary to see the matter done legally and without further consequence."
"Nay, it sounds to me as if your willingness is also needed to prevent further consequence. Yet Rothwell means to have you. What do you think will be the end result?"
"Forced marriages are not familiar to me, Sir Walter, so I do not know what you expect me to say. I can tell you that unless this Rothwell kills me ere Lord Guy returns, I will see to it he knows I was forced. What will happen then is a matter between men. But I can also tell you that Lord Guy loved my father and so loves me also. Tis as like there will be war to have me back, whether there is issue from the union or not. But that is not your concern, is it?" she added resentfully. "From what I understand, your duty is only to deliver me to Rothwell."
"But if you were willing to wed Rothwell?" Walter had to know.
"Then who is to know he is not the man my father chose for me?"
"God's wounds, lady, you are mad to tell me that! If I so informed Rothwell, he would have reason to kill you ere ShefFord returns."
"Then he would also have to kill those close to me who know the truth, and thereby kill everyone at Clydon, for I will die under torture rather than reveal any names to him. One way or another, Lord Guy will know if I am forced or not, so do you tell him that, too, if you mean to tell him aught. Now 'tis your turn to answer questions, Sir Walter."
"Aye, fair is fair," he agreed.
"Then do you tell me if there is a chance I might agree to wed this Rothwell without coercion. He obviously lacks honor, but is there aught else to recommend him?"
"You want the truth, demoiselle?"
"That would be helpful," she replied dryly.
"Then as to his character, there is naught to recommend him. But whether you could be persuaded to accept him regardless of that depends on what you would deem important. He is wealthy enough, if that matters to you. He is a great lord with vassals aplenty, come from his many previous marriages, if that matters to you. That none of these men like or respect him is due to his manner, which is offense to one and all. If children matter to you, you will get none from him, but will have to wait until you are widowed and remarry, and that only if his large family is willing to give up any portion of your inheritance, which is doubtful. They are a greedy lot, just as he is. As to-"
"I think that is enough, Sir Walter," Reina cut in, her complexion paler than it had been. "Just tell me why children would not be possible. Is he crippled or for some other reason unable?"
"Nay, just old, my lady, though not too old to— ah—try."
She had paled even more, as he had hoped, though her eyes were ready to fry him when she hissed, "That is who you would sell me to?"
'Twas not easy to pretend indifference at this point. "When you need the money, you do not question the job too closely, and 'tis our livelihood, selling our service. If we did not accept the job, Rothwell would only have hired someone else to do it. But his offer was too tempting to ignore, especially when it will enable Ranulf to buy the fief he wants."
"If 'tis land he wants, I will give him a rich fief myself, does he take me back to Clydon."
Walter groaned inwardly. Ranulf would kill him if he ever found out that he was going to refuse in his behalf. " "I would take much more than that to make him change his mind. He has a reputation to uphold, after all, one that has never failed to finish a task begun, nor failed to succeed at that task."
"Is that all? He did not give his word or accept the fee already?"
"Nay, he did not."
"Is that normal?"
"It is not," Walter admitted. "But he liked Roth-well no more than you will."
"Then there is no problem."
"There is a very big problem," he countered. "A reputation is naught to scoff at in our profession."
"Is it worth two fiefs?" she offered.
Walter nearly choked. Ranulf really would kill him if he heard about this, and he would deserve it. But he was determined to hold out for all or naught.
"You seem to forget your present position, Lady Reina. Why would Ranulf settle for so little when he holds you and could have all by wedding you himself? 'Tis too bad he cannot be persuaded to do so, for I think you will agree he is the lesser of two evils."
Her color was back with more besides. "Mayhap I would not agree. Your friend is a churlish lout with the manners of the meanest vilieien!"
"Aye, he is that." Walter grinned. "But then he has not had much association with ladies willing to correct his manners. He is also young, strong, and not without means. He might be landless now, but he has the wherewithal to correct that, a small fortune that he has been saving to do just that."
"A few thousand marks?" she scoffed.
"More like fifteen thousand," Walter was very happy to tell her.
"How?" she asked suspiciously. "Mercenaries do not earn such high fees, no matter how good they are. How is it, too, that Rothwell was willing to pay so much?"
"Rothwell was desperate to have Ranulf for the job after hearing he never fails at any task. He had meant to offer only a hundred marks, a high enough fee for so easy a task, one taking so little time. But Ranulf refused that and each higher offer, until it reached five hundred, an amount too high to refuse outright. As for the other, 'tis true mercenary work does not pay well. 'Tis the possibility of loot and ransom that makes it worthwhile, and in that we have been fortunate. In one skirmish several years ago, Ranulf captured fourteen knights single-handed. The ransoms for these account for the bulk of what he has now. So you see, he would not come empty-handed to a wife. But I should not even have mentioned it. As I said, he cannot be persuaded—"
"He cannot be! As I see it, I am the one who must be persuaded if it is to be done with the earl's blessing. Do I not clear the way in saying he is my father's choice, then his position would be no different from Rothwell's. And how dare he not be tempted, when his fifteen thousand marks do not come anywhere near the equal of Clydon and all it entails?"
"Methinks he does not see it as plainly as that, my lady. He sees that you do not like him—"
"And so I do not," she retorted stiffly.
"Well, there you have it. He would not force you to wed him, so he rejects the idea altogether. That you might prefer him to Rothwell does not even occur to him."
"What I would prefer is neither of them, de Breaute, and well you know it. And you are discounting the fact that my vassals will come after me, and not at this snail's pace that we are traveling."
"Will they? Even should they think you will be killed if they attempt to take you back?"
Her eyes narrowed on him like glowing blue coals. "Why would they think that?"
"Because that is the warning I put in the letter Ranulf left in your chamber."
"Would you kill me?"
"Nay, but will they risk it?"
She did not answer, too furious for several moments to say anything, and then she hissed at him, "Why have you bothered to imply I have choices when you also say I have none? What is your purpose, de Breaute?"
"Curiosity, I suppose, on which choice you would m
ake if you were given the choice. And I did wonder if I could bring Ranulf around to the idea. If anyone can, it would be me, since no one else dares to browbeat him as I do, and even I dare only so far. But there is no point in trying unless I have your leave, so it comes back to 'what ifs.' "
"You could be lying to me about Rothwell," she pointed out bitterly.
"True, but you need not take only my word for it.
The men who march behind us served him this past year. Ask any one of them and you are like to have the same opinion. I doubt they are smart enough to lie, but neither do they have reason to lie. They every one of them hate the man for his meanness and cruelties."
"I have a neighbor like that who inspires the same sentiments in his people. You crossed swords with some of his men yestermorn, for which I was grateful at the time."
"But not now?"
That did not even deserve an answer, or so her expression told him. "Let me see if I have this aright. If I tell you I will willingly wed Fitz Hugh, offering him the same contract I would have offered the man of my father's choosing, then you will make the effort to convince him he should wed me himself, cutting Rothwell out of it?"
"Correct."
"How long do I have to consider this?"
"Only until we make camp in those woods," and he pointed to what was no more than ten minutes away. "I will need time to work on Ranulf, and if he does agree, it needs be done tonight—"
"How can it be?" she gasped.
"Those woods belong to an abbey that is a bit farther up the road. If Ranulf agrees, there is a resident bishop who can marry you. It must be done tonight, for Ranulf cannot be allowed time to think long on it or he is like to change his mind."
"I know I am not beautiful, de Breaute, but I also know I am not that sore on the eyes. Why would thinking about it—"
" 'Twould have naught to do with you personally, demoiselle, but with Ranulfs distrust of all ladies. He has had bad experiences in the past that have soured him against them. So being, I will use Clydon to tempt him, you understand? You will have time enough to bring him around to trusting you after you are wed."
"You do not further your cause by telling me that, Sir Walter."
"Mayhap, but you must allow that Ranulf is young enough to change his ways, whereas Rothwell is not."
"Then begone, for I will need every single second I have to consider it."
Chapter Thirteen
Walter was ready to pull hairs. He had been at it for nigh an hour, and although Ranulf had not lost his patience yet, was still listening to his arguments, he was not changing his mind.
They sat before the fire near Ranulf's tent, forcing down the last of the unappetizing camp food that had been quickly prepared. The lady under discussion was across the camp at another fire, Searle and Eric both sent to guard her under the guise of keeping her company. Even so, Walter noticed Ranulf s eyes going to her repeatedly as they spoke, though she had not once looked their way.
If he thought there was something there that was attracting Ranulf, he would change his tactics. But although he might himself find the lady quite comely with her powdery blue eyes and delicate features, he knew his friend was drawn to more stunning wenches, certainly more robust ones. But mayhap he should change his tactics after all, though he had a few more things to say yet in Clydon's favor.
"I do not understand you, Ranulf. I know of no other man who would not leap on this incredible chance, none who would not hesitate to wed the lady even by force, and you can have her willing. Have you not considered the power behind the annual income Clydon has? One hundred knights' service!
Imagine how many fiefs she must have besides Clydon Castle, to allow for that much income."
"I am surprised you did not ask for an exact accounting while you were at it."
Walter flushed. Ranulf had not been pleased at all that he had approached the lady, especially for the reason he had. Walter had related to him everything she had to say, except about her offer if they would simply return her to Clydon, but it did no good. Ranulf was simply not interested.
"Do you realize Clydon is like to equal your father's lands?" Walter threw in, then quickly added before Ranulf could react to mention of his father, "And have you considered that you would only need swear fealty to Shefford? You would have had to swear to King Richard for Farring Cross. Better an earl than a king, especially a king who so loves war. The demands would be much less—"
"From my overlord, mayhap, but what of the extra demands in holding such a large fief? Did you ask her how greatly subinfeudated it is? How many vassals she has? How many people she is responsible for? All I wanted was a small fief to farm and settle on, Walter. I never entertained the idea of becoming as powerful as my father."
"Because it was an impossible notion. You could sell your sword the rest of your life and still never earn enough to buy a fief like Clydon. But here 'tis being given to you, costing you naught but the taking of a wife. You do not even have to fight for it."
"Nay? Think you Rothwell will just give up, that he still will not come a-calling? She also has neighbors who visit with drawn swords, if you did not notice."
Walter shrugged aside that sarcasm. "But you will no longer be only thirty men strong, Ranulf. You will have your own army, and another to draw on from Shefford should you need it. And there is another thing. Tis easier getting aid from an earl than from a king."
"Be that as it may, there is naught that could compensate for the headaches I would have from the lady and her ladies. Christ's toes, Walter, did you count how many she has in her care?"
"Is that what you object to?"
"She is what I object to. I want no lady in my life, least of all a tiny one who thinks she is seven feet tall and has not the sense to know when to push a man no more."
Walter almost grinned, for he knew now that Ranulf could be brought around, that he was only still smarting under the insults the lady had heaped on him. "She may be a mite big on audacity, but she has long been in control of all around her. She only needs a husband to put her in her place." At Ranulfs grunt, he opted for his last arguments. "Did you never l intend to take a wife once you had Farring Cross?" |
"Aye, a lusty village wench will do nicely."
Walter stared at him aghast for a moment, but he now had the ammunition he needed. "And who would see to your household, to the making of cloth, to the cleaning, the cooking? Think you the servants will work just because there is work to do, or that they will take direction from one of their own just because you elevate her to wife?"
"If I say-"
"Ranulf, my friend, that is your stubbornness speaking through the mouth of a fool. Nay, hear me out," he added quickly at Ranulfs scowl. "Can you hand a villein a sword and call him a knight?"
"Do not be stupid," Ranulf growled.
"Aye, it takes years of training to make a knight. But so, too, does it take years to make a lady. She has no skills from the cradle, Ranulf. She is trained to her duties just as we were. Will you live like a pig for years whilst your village wench learns the skills of a lady? And who will teach her if not a lady? And what lady would condescend to do so for any price?"
"Enough, Walter!"
"Aye, enough, de Breaute," came a new voice as Lady Reina stepped into the circle of their fire, Searle and Eric not far behind her. "If you have not an agreement by now, you are not like to get one, and I do not need to be forced on any man. This was your idea—not mine, and certainly not his. I agreed for only one reason. You painted a better picture of him than you did of Rothwell. But Rothwell is obviously the better man, at least a man who feels himself capable of being Lord of Clydon, whereas your friend must doubt his own ability to rule so great a fief."
Walter groaned aloud. She could not have said anything worse if she had tried. To compare Ranulf with Rothwell was bad enough, but to say Rothwell was the better man! To question not only Ranulfs ability but his courage as well, implying he was afraid
of the challenge that Clydon presented!
Ranulf shot to his feet well before she had finished speaking, and Walter would not be surprised to see him throttle the lady for these newest insults. He was so angry he could not speak at once, his eyes dark indigo as they glared at her, and heaven help her, she did not seem the least bit afraid, dared to taunt him even more.
"If I am wrong, Fitz Hugh, say so. Or do you want me to believe that you would refuse Clydon because /frighten you?"
The air came hissing through Ranulfs teeth. "Saddle her a horse, Walter! We ride for the abbey now!"
As Ranulf stalked off to fetch his own mount, Walter looked at the lady incredulously, to see her smiling at him. "You did that apurpose!"
She shrugged. "You appeared to need some help. As you said, better him than Rothwell."
"But he is not like to ever forgive you for what you just implied, lady."
Again she shrugged. "If he is too stupid to realize he was goaded into making the right decision, for his own benefit, mind you, then that is his problem."
" Tis more like to be your problem," Searle said softly from behind her.
Eric was quick to agree. "Are you certain you want him, lady?"
"Ask me instead if I want Rothwell, whom you were all so eager to give me to."
She left the three flushed faces behind and went to find a horse for herself.
Chapter Fourteen
Ranulf was well aware he had been goaded into marrying the lady, and he would do it for the sole purpose of making her regret manipulating him in such a way. But this was no time to let anger get in the way of his reason. She was prepared to make contract with him, and whether he liked it or not, he knew it was necessary, was in fact considered to be the most important aspect of any marriage. She was also too shrewd for him not to pay close attention when she dictated the terms to the young monk who had been lent to them as scribe.
They had been allowed the use of a small room for the discussion, with Walter and Searle there as witnesses for Ranulf, and the monk for her. Ranulf would have preferred talking over the terms with her privately first, but she had insisted that it would not take long, and that he should find everything agreeable to him, as she was offering him the same as she would have Lord John de Lascelles—he finally had the name! Whether this was so or not remained to be seen, but if it was not, he was less likely to argue with her in front of the monk, which she was surely counting on.