The Bride Gift (16 page)

Helena shifted her neck to give him better access. Attempting to hold onto her ire when he did that was futile. “It serves as reminder of my station.”

“If you need a reminder, lady,” he nipped at her ear, “I am at your service. Now, for instance.”

“We cannot,” she sighed, as her woman parts grew enthusiastic about the suggestion. “We have a hall full of people waiting.” A suspicion took root in her mind. “Hold.” She stepped away from him to gather her thoughts. “You knew it was Hearing Day, did you not?”

He looked chagrined, but hid the evidence quickly with a bold twinkle in his eye.

“You knew.” She was not to be deterred. “Are you hiding out here?”

“Nay.”

That was too fast a response. “You are.” Helena laughed. “What could make you hide from a roomful of serfs seeking to petition their lord?”

He tried to brazen it out, puffing up his chest and crossing his arms over it.

Helena poked him. “You are lord here now, it is your duty.”

He growled and caught her finger. “I know that.”

“Then why not come into the hall?”

“I know not what to say,” he mumbled. His face wore a savage frown.

His confession took her aback. “But your men,” she pointed out. “They must disagree, fight amongst themselves.”

“Aye.”

“What do you do then?”

“Let them fight it out,” he replied. “With fists or a bat.”

“A bat?” He let his men brain each other? Images of serfs bludgeoning each other in the hall wavered before her eyes.

“A padded bat,” he assured her.

“Padded or otherwise, that will not do.”

“You can oversee it,” he suggested, a hopeful look crossing his face.

“I cannot.” Helena hated to see him look so crestfallen. “They need to see you. To judge what sort of man now holds sway over their lives.”

“Ewayne?”

She shook her head. “I think not.”

“Then you will come with me.” His face cleared as if the matter were settled.

“Only if you ask me sweetly,” she replied.

“Please?”

“Mayhap.”

He lunged for her. Helena laughingly dodged out of the way. He caught her up in his arms and brought her close.

“I need your help. Please.” The teasing was gone from his eyes.

There wasn’t a woman alive who could refuse such a sincere plea. She would have gone into the hall with him anyway. But the small omission had earned her this and she wasn’t sorry for it. Not even Roger had been able to ask for her aid.

“But of course,” she replied.

“Good.” He planted a sweet kiss on her mouth. “Later I will thank you as befitting a woman of your station.”

“Aye?”

“Oh, aye.” His grin was infectious. “‘The Scourge of Farringdon’ will become the ‘Beast of the Bedchamber.’”

Guy sat in his chair on the raised dais and fidgeted as Ewayne spoke to a growing group of serfs. A few men at arms were on hand to keep order, but the entire thing had an air of conviviality about it.

Where was Helena? She’d excused herself to tidy her hair.

Lystanwold was so very different than his father’s hall. Here, the serfs didn’t cower at the far end, loath to incur their lord’s wrath. Still, the task before him was like an itch beneath his tunic. Mayhap his father had felt the same.

Guy gave a short laugh. Nay, his father had revelled in his size and brutish strength. Hearing Days were merely another opportunity to impress this on those serving him.

Helena sailed into the hall. The group of petitioners turned as she appeared through the screens. Something swelled in Guy’s chest and he straightened in his chair. She was every inch the lady in her royal blue velvet, her girdle of gold and sparkling sapphire sweeping her hemline. Her hair hung loose and gleaming down her back. As he liked it best.

She was his. It warmed him through like a hot meal in his belly. She gave him her body with the same passion she did all else in her life. There was a truce, of sorts, betwixt them. Guy was sure he’d be dead and buried before his lady accorded him wifely obedience, but he had grown accustomed—

Then he snorted. He liked the way she was. He admired her spirit and her fire. She stood shoulder to shoulder with him and, oft times, chin to chin. This morning, he needed her help and it bothered him not one whit that he did.

She stopped a moment to exchange a few pleasantries, admire a new baby and ask after an ailing family member. It was all accomplished with a kind of effortless grace that almost had him tugging his forelock like the oldster currently speaking with her.

Geoffrey had been insistent Guy change out of his rough, working tunic and don something more appropriate. Court clothes always made him feel like a posturing peacock. He and Geoffrey had settled on his armour covered by a brilliant red surcoat, his coat of arms emblazoned across the front.

“My lord.” Helena curtsied before the dais and glided up the stairs toward him. She took her place by his side. He almost stood to offer his seat, but she placed a casual hand on his shoulder and pressed. Obediently he stayed where he was.

This endeavour threatened to involve a lot of talking. He felt naked without his sword, but Geoffrey had been adamant on that point. God’s wounds, give the boy a few pointers on swordplay and he grew an enormous set of ballocks to go with them.

“This is John.” Helena indicated the first petitioner, a square built man of middle years. His weather-darkened face marked him as someone who worked hard in the elements. “John tends thirty acres to the northeast of the castle.”

“My lord.” John bowed his head deferentially.

Helena squeezed his shoulder. Hastily, Guy nodded. “Good morrow, John.”

“My lord, my daughter is looking to wed later this year.” The details blurred as John continued to talk about water rights, marriage and his neighbour. Guy gleaned that his daughter would be marrying the neighbour and John didn’t seem happy about it.

The hand on his shoulder exerted a gentle pressure. Guy threw his wife a desperate look.

“Give us a moment to confer, John.” She nodded toward the older man, then leaned down until her mouth was level with Guy’s ear. Her breath was warm on his neck.

“Will we confer in our chamber?” he whispered, drawing in a deep breath of her heady scent. It went straight to his shaft.

“Mark me.” Delightfully pink, she tried to look stern, but her eyes gleamed.

He felt ten feet tall.

“But for now—” She paused as if to gather her thoughts. “John is marrying his daughter to Matthew of the allotment beside his. John and Matthew have had cross words in the past about the damming of a stream. John does not favour the match, but adores his daughter.”

Mayhap we should give the daughter a bat and let her crack both their heads.
If he leaned forward he could see the full swell of her breasts through the neckline of her bliaut.
Sweet Jesu
. Was he eight and twenty or eighteen?

Guy attempted to pay attention, but his mind didn’t work as well when he could feel the soft brush of her cheek. If he turned his head a hairsbreadth, then her mouth would be level with his. Guy released a low rumble of approval.

He leaned forward, then stopped before he kissed his wife in front of the entire hall.
Jesu
. Now he was thinking about kissing and where that led.
Thank the Lord for chain mail
.

A tiny smile played around the corners of her mouth. “You should, in your infinite wisdom, reassure John that his acres will not become merged with Matthew’s. This is not so much about water as it is about John’s concerns for his land once the marriage has taken place. If you were a truly compassionate lord, you would also agree to let John have his irrigation trenches and consent to the building of a water wheel to be shared by both farmers.”

“Could I afford such a thing?” He wanted to keep her close to his side.

“Verily, you could. Are you a compassionate lord?” she teased softly.

“So it seems.” He couldn’t resist the pull of her smile. “John,” he called out.

The yeoman jerked to attention and hurried back to stand before him. “Aye, my lord?” He stared expectantly at Guy.

Guy parted his lips to speak, hesitated, then with relief felt Helena’s hand tighten on his shoulder.

Her voice not quite steady, she said, “Sir Guy has decided, John, that you should . . .”

It sounded better when she said it. Guy made sure to nod firmly as she finished delivering his judgement.

His
judgement. What legendary conceit was this? John looked pleased, however, bowed and stepped back.

Guy relaxed and let her take charge. His lady knew her role.

And so it went for most of the day. Helena called for refreshments to be offered to the group at the end of the hall. As the day wore on, there didn’t seem to be any end to the constant trickle of hardy souls in and out. There were as many petitioners as there were hairs on a dog.

Guy considered giving Geoffrey the bat with an instruction to beat
him
senseless. His lady, however, handled them effortlessly. All required of him was to allow himself to be managed. He was happy to comply.

As the afternoon waned into the long summer twilight, Colin slunk into the hall. He watched the proceedings from the far wall. Guy met his eyes and Colin’s gaze slid away.

There would come a reckoning betwixt them.

Chapter 19

“You cannot go in there.” Willie’s voice broke through Helena’s sleep fog. She pushed the tumble of hair away from her face. Beside her, Guy shifted and she cracked open her eyes.

“Get out of my way, boy,” Geoffrey demanded. The sound of a scuffle followed.

“Sweet mother of God.” Guy rolled toward her and braced his arms on either side of her shoulders. “This was not the manner in which I planned to wake you.” He leaned down and planted a hot kiss on her mouth.

Outside the door, the scuffle escalated. Something large hit the door, followed by a grunt of pain.

Guy leaned in for another quick kiss. “Stay.”

“Aye, my lord.” Helena tried to look meek, but from the doubtful look on Guy’s face, she obviously failed abysmally.

“Or I might have to beat you,” he added as he rose from the bed.

Helena scoffed as he walked naked across the room. It was a stirring sight. He ruined her view by snagging one of the drying cloths and tying it around his waist. She wanted to protest the loss, but he was already opening the door.

Geoffrey tumbled through and landed at his feet. Willie staggered in moments after.

“Aye?” her husband snapped. Helena spared a moment’s sympathy for the lads as Guy glowered at them.

“Sir Ewayne sent me for you. There has been a raid. He says to come immediately.”

“What?” Helena’s lassitude disappeared. “What raid? Where?”

“I will be right there.” Guy ushered the boys out of the room before they could answer her questions. Helena was on her feet, tugging the sash of her bed robe around her waist.

“Hurry,” she motioned to Guy. “Get Geoffrey back to help you with your armour. I must dress.”

Guy fastened his braies. “Geoffrey is not needed.” He shrugged his gambeson over his shoulders and reached for his chausses. “You can help me don my armour.”

“I cannot.” Helena ducked behind the dressing screen. “I must be ready to go when you are. I do not want to keep the men waiting.”

Guy appeared around the corner of her dressing screen. “Nay.”

She stopped lacing her own set of braies. The man drove her near mad with his grunts and growls. Could he not speak?

“Do not stand there looming with ‘nay’ on your lips.” She straightened her skirt over the braies. “I always ride out with Ewayne.”

“Used to,” he corrected with infuriating calm. “No longer.”

Helena’s mouth dropped open. A moment passed before she could formulate her reply. He was already striding back to his hauberk as she said, “For certes, I will go. I have been lady here all this time. The people expect to see me. If there is trouble, it is me that they expect.”

She braided her hair with impatient fingers. “Do you suspect Sir Ranulf?”

“Nay.”

“Who, then?” She grabbed a leather tie to bind her braid.

“I mean you are not going.”

“Of course I am,” Helena replied.

“It is dangerous.”

“Not so very dangerous,” she assured. “This is not the first raid we have ever experienced, you know. I will ride out with Ewayne and the men, well protected.”

“I will not allow it.” His tone indicated he regarded the matter as settled.

Nay, it wasn’t settled. It was not going to be settled either, until she was on her horse riding out with the men. “I beg your pardon?” The blood in Helena’s temples began to throb. “
You
will not allow it?”

“You are my wife. I am the lord here.” He gestured for her to help him don the hauberk. “It is my duty now. Stay here and prepare.”

He thought that was the way of it, did he? A few sweet smiles and a couple of glorious nights and she would just do as he bid. “I am coming with you.”

“You are not.” The muscle in his jaw tightened, then he turned and bellowed, “Geoffrey!”

Helena strode for the door. “I can either ride beside you or I will follow right behind. Either way, I will be coming.”

“Be damned!”

She flinched but held her ground as he stomped to her, his sheer size overbearing. Helena raised her chin. He didn’t cow her. He would rather cut off his arm than hurt her.

“I will not allow you to put yourself in harm’s way.” He was, however, annoyingly stubborn betimes.

“And I will not allow you to wrap me in swaddling,” she retorted, sticking out her chin.

He glared down at her.

Outside, the noisy clatter of feet announced Geoffrey was on his way.

“Please, Guy?” Helena changed her tactic, softening her tone. “I cannot sit back when my people need me.” She sensed a slight softening in his manner and pressed her advantage. “I will do exactly as you say and if there is any danger, I can return to the keep.”

Geoffrey flung open the door with such enthusiasm it swept into the wall behind it and swung back. With a yelp, he dodged the hurtling wall of wood and it rattled into the lintel with a resounding thud.