“Rafe?”
“What is it, Fricka?”
Rafe did not turn from his task but became even more intently focused upon it. He sat in a chair by the fire in Leofric’s tent, his sword was on his knee, and he was sharpening it with firm, even strokes.
Leofric judged that the time was not right for him to say that which was on his mind.
“The tents have been reconstructed on the other side of the camp, joining our camp with Rand’s. I have set guards to patrol the perimeter.”
Rafe nodded, dusk was approaching and it was necessary to accomplish their plans before it was completely dark.
“How is Finan?”
“No change.” Leofric looked down at the floor, and his next words came with difficulty. “Drogo becomes increasingly worried; he does not say anything, but I think he is at a loss to know what more to do.”
For a moment both men were silent, and then Rafe flung himself from his seat.
“Why, Fricka? It would be something to know why Lord Merrodon has done this thing.”
“I fear that we will not know why until Finan recovers sufficiently to tell us.”
Neither man spoke the fear that ran cold in their veins; that Finan might not recover, that they might lose him just as they had lost Evoric. Some time elapsed before Rafe spoke again, his voice filled with determined bravado.
“We will right this yet.”
“Will we, Rafe?” Leofric surveyed his friend thoughtfully. “Maybe Lord Merrodon will not be so easily defeated.”
Rafe snorted scornfully.
“At this moment Lord Merrodon sits at home weak with fear and worry, I would bet my life on it.”
“Fear is not an emotion to be disparaged, it breeds a dangerous power. Only think; with one move he has placed all he has in jeopardy. He has nothing more to lose and his actions will be desperate.”
“That may be true, but you will find revenge is just as powerful,” answered Rafe, pulling back the tent flap. “Look out there, Leofric, look at those men. Valrek’s finest warriors, soldiers who respect and like Finan. If you do not know the rage in their hearts over this atrocity, you will soon see its effects.”
“What if Lord Merrodon will not yield?”
“He will be powerless to do aught else. I will fight him with every means at my disposal. I will hound him and thwart his every move until he finds himself cornered like the cur he is; and he will yield.”
Leofric watched his friend quietly for a moment.
“Lady Adele was not best pleased I take it?”
Rafe’s head jerked around, his eyes turbulent and just a little bit wary.
“I fail to see the connection.”
Leofric raised an eyebrow, and colour stained Rafe’s cheeks.
“It is a different matter altogether and has no bearing on this.”
“Ouch, that bad was it?” Leofric shrugged his shoulders. “No matter; it has been my observation that great anger needs much fuel to sustain its intensity. ‘Tis probable that a period of calm reflection will do much to make the matter clear.”
Rafe shook his head, his shoulders sloping tiredly.
“You saw not her face.”
“I was talking about you.”
Rafe scowled and turned back to his task.
“What would you have me do?”
Leofric wondered over to the bed and flung himself down upon it, leaning back and closing his eyes.
“Forgive me; to which of your problems do you refer?”
“The one which, I have no doubt, you have prepared a monologue for.”
Leofric grinned.
“You are fortunate, my friend; I have prepared words of wisdom on both subjects.” He paused and the light heartedness disappeared from his face. “This thing with Merrodon, by all means exact justice but be careful: revenge is a powerful emotion that will not always prompt you to do right.”
“And with regard to Adele?”
Leofric tilted his head thoughtfully to one side.
“Do not be so anxious; your discomfort will only make her ill at ease. Try instead to put all that is past behind you, there is no help in looking back.” Leofric smiled ruefully. “And now I have given so freely of my great acumen, I will leave you.”
“Where do you go?”
“If it please you, I wish to speak with Lady Adele.”
“Of course, if that is your wish.”
Rafe’s face showed plainly that he wanted very much to know why Leofric should wish to hold any sort of conversation with Adele, but he forbore to question his friend.
“It occurred to me that the ladies might have some knowledge that would be of help to Finan.”
“I never thought of that,” his tone was startled. “I do not know if they will be of any use.”
“There is no harm in asking,” he replied.
“No, but… I did not wish your hopes to be raised only to be disappointed.”
Leofric gazed down at the grass, a slight frown between his brows.
“You do not seem to hold either lady in very high esteem.”
“‘Tis not that. Lady Eda, though upon occasion irritating of manner, is I believe a perfectly agreeable young lady.”
“And Lady Adele?” asked Leofric softly.
This time Rafe was silent for longer, and when he finally spoke his words were slow and carefully chosen.
“Adele is amiable. In all our journeying I do not believe she offered one word of complaint, but I have no reason to believe that she has been brought up to be in the least useful. In fact, quite the reverse; the lady who had charge of her made it more than plain that she was fit only to adorn Valrek as some sort of object of beauty.”
“Having seen her I should say she will not disappoint in that duty.” Leofric smiled teasingly. “A beautiful, uncomplaining bride? I have a mind to lay claim to her myself. You will remember that I offered her my hand and heart before you did. It could be said my claim is stronger than yours!”
For an unguarded moment Rafe’s eyes betrayed a light not unlike the light of battle.
“As I recall you were not present, Leofric. It was your father’s offer on your behalf and I cannot recall any mention of your heart at the time.”
“Ah yes, but she doesn’t know that. I could have been suffering under a hopeless passion all these years!”
Rafe raised an eyebrow.
“For a woman, nay, a babe you had never even met?” he queried. “Even if she were fool enough to swallow such a tale I would soon set her right.”
“And destroy my chances with her?” asked Leofric pretending shock.
“You have no chance with her,” responded Rafe unfeelingly. “Besides ‘tis no more than you would do to me.”
“Really, Rafe, and here I was thinking I would rid you of your unwanted burden.”
“You mistake the matter; should I wish to be rid of her I could accomplish the task without your help.”
“Could you though?” Leofric’s tone was mock admiring. “Your ingenuity knows no bounds.”
Rafe caught Leofric’s eye and saw that the words were the teasing of an old friend. His irritation was somewhat diminished.
“Am I being insufferably ill tempered?”
“Yes,” answered Leofric promptly.
Truth be told Leofric was rather pleased with the direction the conversation had taken. He had sought Rafe out with the express intention of discovering what had passed between his foster brother and Lady Adele. Such curiosity was only natural in a friendship as old as theirs, but he had known that the information would have to be extracted with some skill. In most things Rafe was completely open with Finan and himself. However his opinions on his betrothal, his marriage, and Lady Adele, were closely guarded. Leofric had learnt long ago that idle interest in that direction produced unpleasant results in Rafe.
And so he had been cunning, using Rafe’s reactions to the mention of Adele as a way to gauge his thoughts. Pursuing this far more succ
essful line of inquiry, he had found, that Rafe was not so complacent of his fate as he had tried to appear. It had become obvious that he had looked forward to his marriage with trepidation. His trepidation seemed to stem from the worry that he would not make his wife happy, and that this unhappiness would be mutual.
For the most part however, Rafe had sought to expunge Adele from his mind. Although his care of her had never faltered. Leofric had a shrewd suspicion that this care had been rather more than was generous, simply because Rafe felt towards Lady Adele an unpleasant sensation of guilt. Yet all of that had been before; now Rafe had actually met her, had been days in her company. Leofric had not seen very much of Adele, but what he had seen had convinced him, had he needed any more proof, that Rafe really was the most fortunate man in all of Wessex.
Adele had her own special kind of beauty, and a trick of looking at a fellow out of her large eyes, as though he were the cleverest, most important, man alive. To her credit she seemed to think a great deal of Rafe, a circumstance that could only lift her higher in Leofric’s estimation. All in all he thought that Rafe might brush through the thing very well. He took another look at his friends face.
“So, is the wedding to proceed?”
It was a gamble asking so direct a question. However, considering the information which he had already gleaned, he felt he could now be a little more reckless. Rafe sent him a glowering look.
“I do not forget my duties just because it becomes difficult.”
Leofric controlled the urge to laugh only by extreme effort.
“I actually meant is she still agreeable to marrying you?” he stressed gently.
Something in Rafe’s eyes told him that his friend was considering visiting physical harm upon his person. Leofric grinned, inwardly of course, he wasn’t suicidal enough to laugh in Rafe’s face.
He reflected that Rafe would not have been so livid if his words had not touched a raw nerve of truth. How angry had Lady Adele been? It must have been pretty bad to put Rafe in such a foul temper. He wondered if perhaps Lady Adele had berated him for the deceit. Rafe would have been furious, knowing that he had no way to defend himself or his actions.
It had been Leofric’s observation that maids with sweet faces and tiny statures were usually anything but sweet tempered when crossed. A mental image of a dainty Adele rebuking a very large Rafe burst upon him, and he was obliged to choke violently to cover his mirth. The look on Rafe’s face assured him that his efforts had been to no purpose.
“I think you had better go and talk to Adele while you are still able,” Rafe intoned wrathfully.
Rafe could hardly believe it. How could this happen twice in the same day? First Adele calmly indicating that his audience with her had finished. Now Leofric was prying into his most personal affairs and finding amusement in their hopelessly tangled state.
Both of them.
Without fear.
Although there had been a faintly wary look of self preservation in Leofric’s eyes. How had Adele looked? Rafe groaned, leaned forward, and rested his head in his hands. He felt Leofric touch his shoulder and then heard the sound of his foster brother walking away.
Huh! Some friend he’d turned out to be, leaving him to the mercy of his own thoughts.
How had Adele looked? He couldn’t remember, it had seemed as though she had spent the whole time with her face averted.
Was that how it would be between them from now on; would she never be able to meet his eyes again? Would the chilly formality that had sprung up between them replace the warmth of friendship that had been before?
Coldness.
It seemed so strange to think of Adele being cold, almost a contradiction in terms. Rafe groaned again, digging his fingers into his scalp. He didn’t want it on his conscience, didn’t want that responsibility. Adele was warm, generous and kind, maybe even loving. He didn’t want to be the one who made her sad and miserable, cold and depressed.
She seemed to hate him now. He wished he could think that he didn’t deserve it, but he had a rather horrible suspicion that he had come by his just desserts. It had been so easy to become friends with her, easier than he had ever imagined it would be. To be faced suddenly with losing that friendship he felt a good deal of regret.
He had an uncomfortable notion that if it hadn’t been for how much he liked Adele, his dealings with her would have been handled better. He was starting to think that anything would have been better than the way that conversation had gone. He had never made such a mess of anything in his life.
At least if they had yelled at one another there would have been a relief of some sort. Had it been Eda it would have been different. They would have shouted and argued and then they would have felt badly and apologised to each other. They would have come to the conclusion that the past could not be changed, and that they were still friends despite all that had occurred.
That would have been the end of the matter, because that was how it was between friends.
For a shocked moment Rafe was completely still; even his thoughts would not move.
Great goodness… Adele?
He began to laugh; surprised, helpless.
Adele?
All his life he had been told that he was fortunate. Everyone had agreed that such a life as had been gifted to Rafe of Valrek could only be a benediction from God. Until that moment he had thought them all fools, but it had been he who was the fool, and he believed now.
Rafe of Valrek had just discovered a very surprising thing; he loved the lady he had been obliged, all those years ago, to claim as his betrothed.
He loved Adele.
Chapter Twenty Four