Honor & Roses (25 page)

“And you fight on the side of King Stephen?” Pierce said it as a question, though he obviously knew the basic facts.

Alric nodded. “He is my lord’s liege lord.”

“You doubtless endured many battles. So you thought nothing of such a peaceable enterprise as escorting my bride to me.”

“I never assumed it would be peaceable. There are many threats, and the lady Cecily’s safety was paramount. Hence two knights and ten men-at-arms. We heard much about the dangers of the Ardenwood in particular.”

At that, Pierce raised a finger. “Exactly what I wished to ask you. How was your journey?”

“We ran into trouble with a group of brigands, but defeated them with no loss to our own number.”

Pierce relaxed. “I am glad to hear it. There are many rumors about the Ardenwood, all of them troubling.”

“Then why do you not investigate, if I may ask? The forest is near enough to your border.”

“I have sent men. Some come back with reports dull as rocks. Others have not come back at all. But as for a root of the rumors, or a specific foe to seek out…I have nothing to go on.”

Alric noted, “Not to mention that rumors of the Ardenwood may be to your advantage. You need not fear an attack from the south if everyone is afraid of traveling through the Ardenwood before they reach here.”

Pierce lifted his glass in acknowledgement. “True! You have a gift for strategy. But all the same, I’d rather know what really lurks in those woods…even if I choose to allow it to lurk.”

“You have the strength to stop whatever is within?”

“Oh, make no mistake. If I want, I’ll burn the whole region to the ground. Once I decide on a thing, no one and nothing opposes me.” He looked at Alric with a smile that held no warmth. “You will do well to remember it.”

Alric swallowed once, reminding himself that no one could prove any connection between him and Cecily beyond friendship. He said, “I’ll pass the message along to Theobald. He’ll find reassurance that his only niece is in the care of a man who will stop at nothing to protect what is his.”

Pierce held his gaze for a moment longer, then laughed. “Theobald concerned about his niece? Well, yes, I suppose he was.”

“You spoke to him?” Alric frowned. From everything he’d been told, the whole matter had been handled through letters.

“By proxy,” Pierce said hastily. “I trust my envoy.”

Alric nodded, though from what he saw at the castle, Pierce trusted almost no one…and his behavior toward his people inspired fear rather than loyalty. If Alric were Pierce’s envoy, he’d consider disappearing on the road. The city of London would provide many opportunities for a servant seeking a saner master.

“So Theobald entrusted you with the mission to bring me my beautiful Cecily,” Pierce went on.

Myfanwy made a rude sound, reminding both men of her presence.

Pierce glanced over at her. “A walk around the gardens would do you good, my dear.”

“I’ll decide what’s good for me,” she retorted. Nevertheless, she rose and swept out of the room. The look she gave Alric as she passed by made him feel like a horse for sale at market.

“Your mistress doesn’t seem to share your opinion of your bride,” Alric noted mildly, after she left.

“Myfanwy is an opinionated woman.” Pierce dismissed further discussion of her, asking Alric about his experience with fighting and defense.

“Do you consider this castle well defended?” he asked.

“You don’t need my judgement on that,” Alric said. “You know it to be so. The location, the height… This castle will stand against any siege.”

“Let us hope your statement is never tested!” Pierce held up his glass in a toast, then drained it. “But Cleobury, where my bride grew up…it’s not a castle, only a manor house. What of its defenses?”

Alric told him a bit about the natural defenses of the landscape, as well as Theobald’s construction of a new stockade around the property. But Pierce’s continuing questions surpassed mere curiosity. He was probing for something, though Alric wasn’t sure what.

“If I didn’t know better,” he said, “I’d think you were planning on seizing Cleobury for yourself.”

“What need have I to do that?” Pierce asked. “With this marriage, it will come to me as part of my Cecily’s dowry.”

“So that’s why you want to know it’s well defended?”

“Naturally,” Pierce said, after a pause that lasted slightly too long. “I don’t want just anyone strolling through the gates.”

“Theobald shares your concern. He’s taken every precaution.”

“He’s a man of my own mind,” Pierce said. “I knew immediately that we’d come to a happy agreement advantageous to us both.”

That’s how he saw the marriage, Alric thought. Purely as an exchange between two powerful men. Well, that’s what marriage was among the nobility. Love was an afterthought, a gift for the lucky. But how could any man take one look at Cecily and not hope for something more? Pierce must be made of stone.

“That reminds me,” said Alric. “Last evening, Cecily was insulted by one of your guards. He was drunk, but I don’t find that an excuse.”

“Tell me,” Pierce said.

Alric recounted what happened, emphasizing Cecily’s innocence. He described the guard, and Pierce nodded.

“I know the one. His mouth runs off when he’s in his cups. I’ll teach him that what may pass for a joke among commoners is one thing, but he’ll not say such things about a lady of noble birth. Not again.”

Alric almost asked what Pierce planned to do, then decided he’d rather not know. He’d heard how the lord dealt with minor mistakes. He assumed Pierce had even harsher punishments for those who stepped further out of line.

While Alric spoke with Pierce
, Cecily spent the morning in the castle grounds. Due to the restricted space on the slope where the castle stood, the gardens were not so extensive or elaborate as those at Cleobury. But Cecily imagined possibilities of what she might do to improve the grounds, particularly the small, walled garden she discovered this morning.

Fruit trees grew in each corner, and a low fountain burbled in the center of the garden, where the paths all met. Perhaps her rose might do well around the fountain.

Before Cecily could contemplate further plans, someone approached. It was none other than Myfanwy. Cecily’s heart beat faster, anticipating an unpleasant exchange.

Cecily suspected that the other woman embodied every secret dream men had. Her body was plump and curved outrageously, and those curves were quite evident due to the low cut of her gown and the lacing at the waist. Her hair was a tumult of blue-black curls, worn loose. She had a habit of curling one lock of hair around her finger in a way that Cecily knew was suggestive, through she couldn’t quite say why. When Myfanwy turned her head, though, there was nothing subtle about the way that lock of hair would fall to rest between her breasts, drawing even the most innocent eyes.

To make it worse, the other woman was truly gorgeous, with high cheekbones and large, lovely dark eyes that sparkled impishly whenever she laughed. Men vied to catch her attention, and earning a smile from her seemed to be some sort of prize. And she was nothing more than a leman!

Cecily couldn’t understand it. She knew that power did not always correlate with a title or a position, but how could a woman of no name or birth bend a whole castle to her will? Because Pierce so clearly prized her? Perhaps, but then she ought to care very much what Pierce thought of her. Yet Myfanwy flirted incorrigibly. Did she have some hold over Pierce?

The mistress now approached the bride, as though they were equals.

“Greetings, my lady.”

“Good day,” Cecily said, not even wishing to address such a woman directly.

Myfanwy smiled, enjoying Cecily’s discomfort. “I’ve just come from Pierce’s chambers.” She paused significantly. “We were talking about you.”

Cecily said nothing. She was learning how silence could be an effective tactic—particularly when anything she could have said would only embarrass her.

“Do you want to know what was said?” Myfanwy prompted, a tiny line appearing between her brows when Cecily didn’t beg to hear.

“You obviously wish to tell me, or you would not have brought it up,” Cecily noted, pleased her voice wasn’t shaking.

“We were saying what a lovely young woman you are,” Myfanwy said, her voice sweetening. “So polite. So composed. Hair so golden that you scarcely need a crown to look like a queen.”

Cecily hadn’t expected a compliment, even though she sensed a sour note would follow this sweet one. “Did you say so,” she responded, not making it a question.

“We did.” Myfanwy’s smile grew sly. “Such an Englishwoman. So unlike me! But we thought that was intriguing. Pierce wondered how different it would be to take you to bed. So quiet and shy and proper in the light.” Myfanwy leaned closer, her voice dropping to an insinuating purr. “Does that change in the dark? Or are you a shy little thing even when a man strips you bare? Pierce said he’d like to take us both to bed at the same time, and see for himself who gives him greater pleasure.” Myfanwy put her arms around Cecily’s neck, not allowing her to step away. “I have no doubts, of course. I know how to make him shout my name. But I’d like to see you try to keep your place in his bed. I’ll even give you a few hints…”

Outraged, Cecily reached up and grabbed a lock of Myfanwy’s hair, yanking downward with all her might.

Myfanwy screamed and pushed Cecily to the ground, a long lock of black hair still in her hand.

The Welshwoman touched her head. When she pulled her hand down, there were red stains on the tips of her fingers.

“You little bitch!” she hissed.

Cecily clutched the lock of hair tight in her fist. She held her hand up.

“I’ll keep this in remembrance of you,” she said, her voice shaking in the aftermath of her unexpected act of violence. “I think you’ll also remember me. Also,
never
speak to me that way again.”

By then, guards had come, summoned by Myfanwy’s screams. One helped Cecily to her feet, asking, “Should we take you to Lord Pierce?”

“No,” said Cecily. “I have no great desire to see him.”

Rafe strode into the garden.

“My lady Cecily?” he asked, his eyes flicking between both women. When he saw the lock of hair in Cecily’s hand, he looked as if he was about to laugh. “I see you require no assistance.”

“No,” she said, “but I would like you to escort me back to my chambers. And then, if you please, let Sir Alric know I’d like to speak with him.”

Rafe did exactly that, and soon enough Alric came to her chambers. He entered only after he saw Agnes there as well, along with the maid Yvota, who was helping prepare the wedding attire.

“Rafe told me what happened,” he said, looking Cecily over for damage. “You truly got into a fight with that woman?”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I heard you drew blood.” He sounded astonished, and a little bit impressed.

“No! Well, only because I ripped out some of her hair.” Cecily sighed. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Whatever happened, she must have provoked you. But now she’ll think twice about meeting you alone again.”

“I don’t want to meet her alone again, either. She’ll be looking for revenge.” Cecily knew one thing for certain. Myfanwy was a woman who would never suffer a defeat for long.

“What revenge could she take, beyond a petty jibe or two?” Alric asked.

There was a feeling of unease in the pit of Cecily’s stomach. “She’s not merely a mistress. Myfanwy acts as though nothing will change after the wedding.”

“You have to make your will known, Cecily. Don’t let her gain the upper hand after this. Go to speak to Pierce now. Give him your terms. Don’t delay.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. Once you’re lady of this castle, you’ll need to fight your own battles.”

She heard the words he didn’t speak—he wouldn’t be there to fight for her.

“Very well,” she said. “If you say so, I’ll begin now.”

Cecily walked past him on her way to the door. Alric reached out to squeeze her hand, just for a moment.

“You’ll win,” he said in a low voice. “You’re stronger than you think.”

She didn’t trust herself to respond to that.

Following Alric’s advice, Cecily went to Pierce’s chambers. When she arrived, she stood at the door uncertainly. It was open a few inches. Should she knock? Stride in? What was the best move?

She glanced to the right and left. The passageway was deserted, which surprised her. Pierce seemed to have servants and soldiers attending him at all hours. Why was his door open but unguarded now?

Her question was answered by an outburst on the other side of the door.

“You’re not listening to me!” Myfanwy yelled.

“How could I not be listening when you speak at that volume?” Pierce returned in a more conversational tone. “You’re worried about Cecily.”

At that, Cecily forgot her original intent and leaned forward to the opening.

“She’s less of a child than you seem to think,” Myfanwy was saying.

“You should not have teased her,” Pierce said. “I told you to stay well away from her, but you had to taunt the maiden. That was your mistake.”