Velvet & steel (4 page)

He did not miss her invitation, and he found his reluctance a surprise. "No, there is nothing more.

Get some rest. I'm sure the child has kept you busy. Good night."

She sighed, but turned away. There was time. She had heard his insult to the Lady Lynette, and was sure his marriage vows would mean nothing if he desired another. She certainly didn't intend for Lynette or his unwanted child to get in her way.

Royce poured another horn of wine, and again eased himself down in the chair before the dying fire. This was the time of the night he hated most. These quiet hours, when memories could not be held at bay and he saw her violet eyes and deep brown hair in the glowing coals.

He felt the same old undefeated agony wash over him, a longing that crushed his breath and squeezed his heart until he felt the pain would never cease.

"Sybella." He whispered her name, and the ache of longing filled him for the nights they had shared in the brilliant ecstasy of love.

He could feel the heat of tears in his eyes, and could not fight the memory of her touch, her kiss, or the unselfish way she had given herself to him without reservation, with a fire that had left him filled... and now left him empty. Empty, with nothing to fill the emptiness but longing and a loneliness that was devastating.

He poured wine, the only defense he had, and thought of the child they had created; self-hatred filled him again. But the agony that filled him when he looked at Cerise was too much to bear.

He would see to her care, but he could not bring himself to look into those purple eyes, so like her mother's. No, she was safe, and well cared for. He could not admit to himself that after Sybella's death, he had looked into his daughter's eyes and seen his own guilt.

Because he had wanted a son, Sybella, who should never have considered giving birth, had accepted his seed, and had died trying to give him what he had desired more than anything else. He had helplessly watched her life bleed away. ... He had wept, and staggered from the room. Later they had brought his daughter to him, and in his agony he could not take her, hold her, or even look at her. All he could see was his beloved Sybella's life bleeding away. It was his fault, and the child he could not release or hold was the proof of his guilt. He had looked into her eyes once, and the bitter anguish had never left his soul since that night. Every time he had seen her from that day forward, the black shadow of guilt and self-hatred had eaten at him until he thought he would go mad.

It was then the devil of self-destruction had filled him. But God seemed to laugh at his attempts. He had lived and had fought again and again with reckless abandon, until he put fear into his enemies that he was a devil who could not be killed. In fact, he had often wondered himself.

Now he was caught in a difficulty not of his choosing, bound by an oath his honor would not let him break. He would go through with this farce of a wedding. But when a child was conceived he would leave ... and he was certain the Lady Lynette would be glad to see him go. He raised the horn to drink again.

Lynette was always an early riser, often leaving her bed just before dawn. The hall was still quiet as she left her chamber and started toward the stairs. That was why the muffled cry of pain was heard so clearly as she passed the child's chamber.

Thinking there might be something wrong, she pushed the door open. The sight that met her eyes brought a gasp of outrage.

Oriel was holding the child brutally by the arms and shaking her. The little girl was crying softly, and her tangled hair was flung wildly about her. She stood with her bare feet on the cold stone floor, dressed in nothing but a thin piece of linen.

"Quiet, you little brat, or I will give you something to cry about. I warned you you were not to get out of bed before I told you to. How often must I punish you before you learn to obey?"

That someone should treat a child like this was abhorrent to Lynette, but that it was the child of the lord of the manor was beyond belief.

"What is amiss here?"

Two pairs of very surprised eyes turned toward Lynette. One pair was filled with cold disdain, and the other with tears of misery.

Oriel was quick to display her arrogance. After all, it was obvious Royce did not respect his betrothed, and she was just a Saxon slave anyway.

"It is not any of your affair. The child was put in my charge. She is in need of discipline."

"What has she done? She is cold and most likely hungry, since you did not see to her supper last night."

Oriel had the grace to flush.

"She is willful, and sometimes needs a strong hand. Besides"—Oriel's eyes glittered with smug and vengeful laughter—"it is not your place to change the rules given by her father. I will take care of her."

Lynette might have let it go at that, but the child's eyes lifted to her with such a look of quiet despair that she could not leave her in the hands of this woman.

"Within two weeks, I will be Royce's wife. This child will then become mine. I will take over her care now. Come here, Cerise," Lynette ordered the child, who looked from Lynette to Oriel with a gaze suddenly filled with hope.

This woman, this kind woman, who had given her food and laughed with her last night was to be her new mother.

She pulled free of Oriel's hand and went to Lynette, who smiled down at her and brushed her tangled hair from her face.

"Go and dress, and then bring your hairbrush. Find something warm. Then we will go to the kitchen and see what we can find to break our fast."

"Her father will not approve of this. His command was to keep her away from him, his men, and everyone else. She is to be kept out of sight."

The cruelty of such words spoken in front of the child only succeeded in making Lynette angrier than she already was.

"Go to your lord," Lynette said furiously. "Tell him his cruelty will not be permitted under this roof while I am alive. If he cares to take out his petty cruelties on me, I can be easily found."

"You will regret this. He does not want the child in his sight."

"Be gone from here, before I forget myself and do you more harm than you have bargained upon," Lynette hissed.

Oriel was quick to see the wisdom of a hasty departure, but she was not going to let this Saxon wench get the final word. She would make it clear to Royce that Lynette meant to bring the child into his company. That would put an end to Lynette's interference. Royce would see that she was put in her proper place before the wench got too full of the idea that being Royce's wife was going to make her important. She would enjoy seeing Lynette face Royce's wrath.

When the door closed behind Oriel, Lynette turned to Cerise and smiled, and watched a tentative smile appear in return.

"Are you really going to be my mother?"

"It appears I am."

"And I will not have to stay with Oriel anymore?"

"I will speak to your father about that." Lynette said thoughtfully. She was only now realizing that, if the child was forced back into Oriel's company, even for the short time before the wedding, she would pay the price for Lynette's interference. She knew Oriel had left her in a vindictive mood, and heaven only knew what she was telling Royce at this moment. "For now we must get you dressed and fed." Lynette helped Cerise choose something warm to wear, and was secretly appalled at the condition of her clothes. It seemed her father did not even worry about how she was dressed.

When they got to the kitchen, it was already bustling as preparations for the morning meal were under way. Lynette gave orders for the child to be fed, then kept in the kitchen until Lynette returned for her.

"Under no circumstances are you to place her in the hands of that vicious creature, Oriel. If she appears, send for me at once."

"Where will we find you, mistress? The new lord will not take it well should we cause difficulties."

"You needn't worry," Lynette said with grim determination. "I am going to see the new lord now."

The servants watched her leave the kitchen with hidden smiles. The mistress was more than angry, she was overflowing with fury. It was going to prove interesting when those two clashed. Even the old lord often gave way to her anger when she thought she was fighting for something worthy. This time there was a child involved.

Lynette walked with purposeful strides toward the main room, where the sound of men's voices could already be heard. But Royce was not among them, and it was Robert who spotted Lynette first and came to meet her. He knew fury when he saw it and wanted to abate whatever storm was brewing before she and Royce could make the situation between them any worse than it was.

"Good morning, my lady."

"Good morning, Sir Robert," Lynette replied, but her eyes were scanning the group.

"If you are looking for Royce, he is not here."

"Does he lie abed to be served like a king?" Lynette said sneeringly.

"No, my lady. He has been up and gone for two hours. He looks over..."

"His property. It is too bad, Sir Robert, that he does not give as much thought to the humans in his care as to the lands and animals."

Robert knew at once what Lynette was referring to, and he sought a way to prevent a more serious problem. "My lady, could I speak with you in private?"

"So that you can make excuses for his actions, for his brutality?"

"Brutality, my lady? There is not a brutal bone in Royce's body."

"Your loyalty is commendable, Sir Robert. But this time I think it is misplaced. How can a man treat his own child like a ... a ... " Her voice broke.

"Where is the Lady Oriel?"

"Chained with the dogs, I hope, but most likely carrying tales to Royce of my interference."

"Aye," Robert said softly. "But I beg a moment to talk with you before you loose this anger on Royce."

"Very well," Lynette said reluctantly. She would rather have faced Royce and settled the matter. She was going to fight to keep the child away from Oriel if it was the last thing she ever did.

Robert offered her his arm, and she laid her hand upon it. The two walked out of the main hall and found a quiet place to talk.

"It is against all I know to break a confidence, or to betray a trust," he began. "But this problem has been festering for a long time, and I would see an end to it."

"How can he allow that woman to care for one as small and helpless as Cerise?"

"You know her name?"

"Aye, we shared a very late meal last evening."

"She is to take her meals in her chambers with Lady Oriel."

"It seems," Lynette said scathingly, "that the lady had other more pressing matters to attend. She neglected to see to the child's supper."

"Aye," Robert repeated, "and I can surmise what those pressing matters were. It seems I am the only one who can see the lady has more in mind than caring for the child."

"She is his mistress?" Lynette questioned. The idea was shockingly upsetting. If Oriel was Royce's mistress, Lynette would be able to do little to protect Cerise.

"Nay, not yet. But I do not think she will let go of the idea easily. It seems Royce is the only one who has not seen her intent."

"Sir Robert, can you not tell me why the child is not allowed in his presence? What could that shy little thing have done to be treated so?"

"All she has done, my lady, is to look like—"

"Robert." The voice that came from behind Lynette was cold and uncompromising. Lynette spun around and looked up into gold eyes alight with an emotion she could not read.

"Royce," Robert replied. Lynette sensed some communication pass between the two men. But the golden gaze held hers, until she felt her cheeks grow warm and a stirring of something unfathomable within her.

She wondered where the vicious Oriel was, and why she was not with him.

Oriel had indeed waited near the stable to have the first opportunity to reach Royce's ear. She had watched his destrier approach, a huge beast that could strike terror in the heart of an enemy. But Royce rode relaxed and at ease, as if his mind was elsewhere. And indeed it was. He had seen, from his early morning ride, that Creganwald was well cared for. He had stopped to speak with every peasant, and heard in their voices the truth about their lord and his daughter.

Well loved... honest... trustworthy, with the welfare of their people always in mind. Why, did not the Lady Lynette nurse their ills when they were sick? Did not the lord mete out justice with fairness? Yes, the lord and his daughter were well loved .... Why did it annoy him so much?

He had almost been upon Oriel before he saw her, and was hard put to control the mighty horse. When he finally calmed the animal, he gave the reins to Selwyn, one of Eldwyn's stableboys, and turned on Oriel.

"You could have been killed!"

"Oh, my lord." Oriel shed practiced tears, and for a moment Royce felt his heart lurch.

"The child, is she all right?"

"Aye, my lord. I... I think so."

"What do you mean, you think so? She is in your care."

"Nay, my lord, no longer."

"Woman! What has happened?"

Just the harsh grate of his voice made Oriel's tears become more real. She shook with fear. What if he didn't believe her?

"The Saxon wench, she took her from our chamber this morning. She would not even let me see that she had eaten. She said that no Norman brat would be treated like the lady of the manor while she ruled here. She said I was not to see her again. Oh, the poor child. What kind of care will she get from a Saxon who hates you and all Normans?" Royce clenched his teeth as Oriel continued. "I tried to explain to her that you wanted her cared for in her own chambers, but she said she would not get any special treatment, but would be cared for in the main hall, and sit next to you and her."

"Hold!" Royce said. "I will see to this."

Oriel had watched him stride toward the manor, and a smile played across her lips. Soon the child would be back in her care, and the arrogant lady would find that the Normans were masters here.

When Royce had come upon Robert and Lynette in conversation, he was at first surprised to find them together. How clever she was. Did she mean to gain support from Robert in her plans to remain mistress of this manor? Did she question Robert on things that were not her affair?

When he spoke Robert's name, he watched Lynette turn to meet his gaze, and he felt more than saw the animosity there.

"I would speak with you, demoiselle," he said firmly. "Alone."

"Royce," Robert began, "I—"

"I am not going to devour her, Robert," Royce said with amusement at Robert's protective attitude. He was a bit surprised that Robert looked as if he suspected he might do just that. Already the wench was undermining him, seeking his own friends and knights for protection.

The sooner he made her position clear, the better for them all. Even the child. It had never occurred to Royce that he never referred to Cerise by name. In every way, he tried to distance himself from his daughter. Reluctantly Robert walked away, and Royce and Lynette stood looking at each other for a silent moment.

"You seem to have run across some difficulties with Lady Oriel this morning."

"I have no difficulties with the creature," Lynette said sweetly. "Let her keep her distance from me, or I shall find a pigsty in which to deposit her."

"Lady Oriel is the sister of Sir Giles. They are of a very fine family."

"Does that justify her vicious behavior? Silk and jewels do not make a lady."

"Lady Oriel has gone to some extent to care for—"

"For your little 'problem'?"

Now it was Royce's turn to flush. Even he had never referred to his child as a problem. In fact, he knew he hardly ever referred to her as all.

"The little 'problem,' as you put it, is my concern, not yours."

"Then where were you last evening when she was crying on the stairs because she was cold and hungry—wallowing like a pig with that 'lady'?'-'

Royce jerked erect, and his face portrayed his anger. "Lying about the Lady Oriel is hardly just."

"Lying!" Lynette sputtered. "You great oaf! I need not lie about something your own knights are afraid to bring to your attention! Only a man with no conscience at all would subject an innocent child to what Cerise has had to bear. You would wed me, my lord," she added scathingly, "by the order of your king. But let me warn you, Norman, you will rue the day you try to bed me. Before I would breed a child by you, I would place a dagger in my own heart. You are a man with no honor, and even this conquered Saxon would be dishonored by your touch!"

Lynette spun on her heel and was gone before Royce could reply.

Angrily, he walked back into the silent main hall, where every man at table was trying his best to avoid his fierce gaze. Clearly every ear had heard the last words and was waiting for his explosion.

Robert sat, completely engrossed in his food. He had to keep his head bowed. It would do little good for Royce to see his satisfied smile. He had begun to like the stormy little Saxon, and meant to tell her so the first chance he got ... if she did not take his head off before he could.