An Honorable Rogue (31 page)

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Authors: Carol Townend

BOOK: An Honorable Rogue
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Not here. Sir Richard was definitely not here.
He bit back a smile. That gave him some time. He wondered how long he might need. He glanced over his shoulder at Rose, and picked out a phrase or two about the quality of linen best used for swaddling bands. He heard Lady Cecily exclaim as she noticed the cut on Rose's palm. And he realised with something of a jolt that he had not the faintest idea of what Rose felt about Sir Richard's absence.

She does not seem upset. She does not
--a burst of laughter came from the trestle--
she does not appear to be pining for him.

Women! What a mystery they were. And thank God for it, he thought, a rueful smile twisting his lips as he shot another glance at Rose. She was unpinning her veil. Already she must feel at home. Her hair hung in its thick plait down her back and his fingers itched to loosen it for her. Even though Rose had her back to him, he knew her dimples would be in full view. His spirits lifted. He had liked Adam's Saxon wife on sight, and it would appear Rose agreed with him, which pleased him greatly. But he would have been hard put to define why that should be.

Adam also told me." Lady Cecily was saying, 'that you have designed huge wall-hangings for the castle at Quimperle?"

Rose nodded, put her veil on the table and reached for an apple. Yes, she did indeed feel at home. Cecily was a clever, hospitable,
kind
woman.

Cecily was gesturing at the wall opposite the door, where a smoke-grimed tapestry was hanging. 'My grandmother made that but it is, I fear, past its best. Perhaps when your hand is fully healed and you have taught me to sew a straight seam, we could make a start on a replacement.'

While Ben waited for Adam to come in he listened and watched. He could not read Rose at all. The girl he had known most of his life was a stranger and he did not have the first idea of what she was thinking. His eyes were lingering on her womanly shape, were enjoying the narrowness of her waist and the gentle curve of her hips when a shadow filled the doorway.

Ben swung round, a smile at the ready, but it was not Adam. Brian was bringing in their packs.

Nodding at Ben, Brian hefted their belongings to the other end of the hall, placing them on a chest in what must be the general sleeping area. A series of looped-back curtains confirmed Ben's guess. At night, they would be drawn to form compartments for those wanting privacy.

Brian had put his lute on top of his pack. Startled to realise that Rose had him so abstracted he had left it on Piper's back. Ben wandered over and took it out of its bag. Sitting on a chest, he set about tuning it.

'Lady Cecily?' he said, trying out a note.

'Yes?'

'Is Maurice still with Adam?'

'Indeed, he is his squire.'

Ben smiled. 'I am glad of that.' He indicated his lute. 'I can play for you and your household this evening, if you wish."

'That is very kind. But I do not want you to feel an obligation. I am certain you must be fatigued after your journey."

'Not at all.'

'Then I shall be very glad to hear you play. But I should warn you, your reputation precedes you. Both Adam and Sir Richard have informed me that you are the best minstrel in Christendom. Indeed, Adam said that you were only to be rivalled by the Moorish slave-dancers that were stolen from Spain."

Ben raised a brow. Adam had mentioned the Moorish dancers to his convent-bred wife? 'Adam thinks those dancers more entertaining than I? My lady. I am mortified.'

Rose giggled. Across the hall her eyes were alight with laughter.

Cecily picked up the wine flagon and brought it over. 'I have not seen the slave-girls, of course..." her lips twitched as she refilled his cup '...but I can imagine them. So tonight, you will just have to do your best. Perhaps Adam will change his mind, and rate you above the Moorish slave-girls."

Ben grinned and, smiling his thanks for the wine, continued tuning his lute.

Rozenn was being shown round Fulford and Cecily had taken her into the cookhouse. Lufu the cook was cracking eggs into a wooden bowl when Rozenn heard a burst of men's laughter coming from the green outside.

'Do you think that is Adam?'

Cecily put down a basket of apples she had fetched from the storehouse, and peered through the doorway. Her face softened. 'Aye, it's Adam. He's by the millpond with the troop. He was not expecting you for a week or so--why don't you surprise him?"

Rozenn didn't need to be told twice and, smoothing down her skirts, she hurried out.

The sun was well past its zenith. The mill-wheel had been stopped and several men--they had doffed their armour, and were clad in simple tunics and cross-gartered trousers--were grouped round the millpond. Swallows and house martins were swooping low over the water and a couple of oversized wolfhounds were bouncing up and down by the reeds at the bank, whimpering with excitement. She saw splashes and heard another roar of laughter, but focused on the figures. Most of Adam's troop were familiar to her, or they had been when he had left Brittany to join Duke William. Yes, there was Maurice, and George, and Felix. And there at last, her brother Adam. Or, to be more precise, her adopted brother. Adam had his back to her, but that black hair and that strong soldier's stance were unmistakable.

'Adam!'

Adam turned. For a moment he looked blank, then his eyes lit up. 'Rose!' Striding over, he met her halfway, grabbed her by the waist and whirled her round exactly as he had done when she was a child. Fulford Hall, the church, the mill and the stables blurred dizzyingly into one.

'Put me down, you wretch!'

Grinning, Adam obliged and a lock of dark hair flopped over one eye. Reaching up to kiss his cheek, Rose smoothed it back.

'Let me look at you." Adam gripped her by the shoulders and subjected her to a thorough scrutiny. 'You look well. You have caught the sun on your travels.'

'You also look to be in good health. Marriage to Lady Cecily must agree with you.'

'I cannot complain,' he said, in his serious voice, but she could see that he was having trouble hiding a smile.

It had been on the tip of Rozenn's tongue to ask Adam whether he still missed his first wife Gwenn, but Rozenn had seen how his eyes had warmed when she mentioned Lady Cecily. So too had Lady Cecily looked in the cookhouse when she had leaned out and seen that Adam was back from training his men. With something of a lurch, Rozenn realised that while her friend Gwenn would always hold a special place in her brother's memory, his heart was now in the keeping of a Saxon.

Something wet nuzzled her hand; the wolfhounds had bounded up and were vying for her attention. 'Yours?' she asked, drawing back a little. Count Remond had kept wolfhounds and she had learned to be wary of them.

Adam lifted a dark brow. 'They are. At least, I
think
they are.'

'Don't you know?'

'They were Thane Edgar's originally.'

'Cecily's father?'

Aye."

'And wolfhounds are usually faithful to one master?'

'Just so.' Adam grimaced. 'Let us say that they did not take to me at once, but I think I have won them over. It has been a long road."

The dogs flopped into a sitting position, one at either hand, like sentries. Sentries with lolling wet tongues. Rozenn laughed. 'They look loyal now. Do they have names?'

'Rose, meet Greedy and Lightning.' Adam took her arm and turned towards the hall. Behind them, more laughter and splashing came from the pond. 'When did you arrive? Did Mother come with you?'

'No. I am very sorry, Adam.' Rozenn said, her steps slowing. 'Ivona sends you her best love. She filled a bag with gifts for you, but she said to tell you that she is too old and too set in her ways to undertake such a journey."

Adam nodded, his expression thoughtful, but resigned. 'This is what I feared. Mother will stay in Quimperle till her life's end, I think. But I am sorry. I would have had her here, so she might live out her remaining years with the honour that is her due."

'Quimperle is her home."

'I see that.'

'Aye, it is what she knows and she is content."

Adam tugged her braid. 'Whereas you,
ma belle,
you were not entirely happy there.'

Rose focused on the thatched roof of the hall. 'I was not aware that you had noticed."

'I am not a complete blockhead.'

Rose sighed, 'I was the blockhead, Adam. I made a dreadful mistake with Per."

'As did I,' came the quiet response. 'I have made a couple of bad mistakes where you are concerned, Rose, and I am more sorry that you can imagine."

Rose blinked. What
was
Adam talking about?

He put his hand on her arm. 'But once I had word Per had died--'

'How did you hear? I have been wondering.'

'A trader in Winchester market, a Norseman. It turned out he was a distant cousin of Ketill Saffell.'

'The ship master who did business with Per?'

'The same. When this cousin learned that my lady had married a Breton he struck up a conversation with her and...' Adam lifted his shoulders '.. .this world is smaller than we realise.'

'So news of Per's death travelled with the traders to England? How extraordinary.'

'Aye. And you may think very ill of me, but I was not exactly sorry when I heard.' He hesitated, his eyes full of sympathy. 'Rose, what of Per's debts?'

'Paid off!'

'Good girl, I am glad to hear it."

Rose opened her mouth; she was bursting with questions--questions she was half-afraid of asking. Questions about Sir Richard, about whether he was returning; questions about his exact whereabouts, but no sooner had she begun to frame them... 'Adam, about Sir Rich--'

Ben strode round the corner of the cookhouse.
'Adam!
'

Rose snapped her mouth shut and watched as they exchanged greetings and slapped each other on the back in the casual way of men who had a profound fondness for one another. Frowning, she wondered what Ben had been doing; there had been no sign of him this past hour while she had been talking with Lady Cecily. It looked as though he had come direct from the armoury, but what business would Ben have in the armoury? No matter. He had probably been in the stables, checking up on Piper.

' Ben!' Adam was grinning from ear to ear. 'So you did escort Rose!"

What an odd thing for Adam to say. Rose felt confused. It sounded as though Adam had expected Ben to accompany her, but how could that be? They had had that falling out at around the time of her marriage to Per and she was not sure they had been in contact with each other since then. Still, here they were, embracing each other, exactly as though the quarrel had never taken place.

'Adam, let me tell you I have had the devil of a journey," Ben said, rolling his eyes. 'Your sister..." And then to Rozenn's dismay, Ben reached out and tugged at her braid, as he had done on board the ship in Bosham harbour, as Adam had just done. As a brother would do, a
brother,
blast him. 'Your sister... Do you realise how sadly you neglected her education?"

'I neglected her education? How so?"

'She did not know one end of a horse from the other! Claimed never to have sat in a saddle,' Ben shook his head while Rose spluttered in indignation.

'I never said such a thing! Of course I had sat in a saddle! I just didn't like it.' Rozenn tossed her head, inwardly resigning herself to the fact that, since Ben had joined them, her questions would have to wait. Oddly, the questions no longer seemed so important. She found herself wanting to take Ben's hand.
That
seemed far more important. To prevent herself from doing anything so revealing in front of Adam, she edged away.

'And you the son of a horse-master, and a knight." Ben was saying. 'Shame on you, Adam!"

'I can ride now,' Rose told Adam, with a touch of pride, 'I even have a horse.'

Adam lifted a brow.

'Yes, and she is beautiful. Her name is Jet and Ben gave her to me." As she spoke. Rose was conscious of Ben's dark gaze on her. She shot him a glance, and something in his expression put her in mind of Adam when Cecily's name had been mentioned. Warmth surged into her cheeks, and she hastily renewed her interest in the pattern of the thatch along the roof ridge.
Wishful thinking,
she told herself,
wishful thinking.
'I... I think I will leave you to catch up with your news,' she said, backing away. 'Cecily has promised me a tour of her herb garden."

'It's that way.'Adam pointed. 'Out beyond the stables, just south of the orchard. You cannot miss it.'

'Oh, yes, I remember,' Rose said, and, picking up her skirts, she fled in the direction Adam had indicated.

Ben watched the gentle sway of Rose's hips as she crossed the sunlit grass and walked towards an arch in some wattle fencing. Behind the fencing, apple and pear trees were in full leaf.

Adam tipped his head to one side, a slow smile dawning. 'My thanks for bringing Rose,' he said. 'And it is good to see you in Wessex at last.'

'I would have come sooner, but the Duke bid me wait until your position here was secure.'

Adam's eyes narrowed. 'I am glad that he did so. But I would have you know that I would not have consented to your involving Rose or my mother for that matter, if my holding had been precarious. It is safer here than in Brittany, I think."

'You may be right.'

'I confess I have missed little Rose greatly. My hope is that she will choose to stay. Does she know the truth?'

'No. And, Adam. I beg you to say nothing of Sir Richard just yet."

Adam frowned. 'Why on earth not? The man is miles from here, but he never asked for her hand and this continuing deceit makes me uneasy. She was asking about him a moment ago."

'And you said...?'

'Nothing, there was no time." Adam grinned. 'You interrupted us at exactly the right moment. Which is probably a good thing, since I didn't have the first idea what to tell her. We need to discuss this. I don't want Rose hurt.'

'Neither do I, man, neither do I.'

'Then tell me your plans."

'Aye, we must talk, but since what I have to say concerns the Duke, it needs privacy."

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