Tamsin and Rheged warily approached the man standing in the center of the courtyard beside a magnificent black stallion. The fellow’s gaze wandered over the keep and the walls until he saw them. After that Sir Roland waited as motionless as one of the statues in a churchyard, and his horse was just as still.
As they drew nearer, the man’s features became clearer. Tamsin had thought Rheged’s visage grim and hard, but it was only because she hadn’t met Roland of Dunborough. Tall as Rheged, broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped, his hair dark, as were his hooded eyes, Roland looked as if he had never smiled in his life and never would.
Which was a pity, she thought, for otherwise he was a handsome man who looked nothing like his older brother.
“Greetings, Sir Roland,” Rheged said when they reached him. “My lady, this is Sir Roland of Dunborough. Sir Roland, this is Lady Thomasina, my wife.”
He spoke the last word fiercely, as if challenging the man to refute it.
Roland did not. He ran a gaze over Tamsin that was so lacking any emotion or expression Tamsin shivered.
“My lady, a pleasure. My lord, we meet again,” Roland said, his voice deep and just as lacking in emotion. “I received word of my brother’s death from Lord DeLac. He implied there was some...irregularity...during a trial by combat.”
“Your brother was trying to kill my wife until she stopped him with a dagger he’d concealed in his sword belt,” Rheged replied bluntly.
“He was about to kill Sir Rheged, who was in no condition to fight that day, as your brother well knew, and I tried to stop him,” Tamsin added.
Roland sniffed with disdain and for a terrible moment, Tamsin feared he was going to accuse them both of murder, until Roland said, “I could expect no better from that blackguard.”
Rheged had obviously been right—there was no love lost between Sir Blane’s sons.
“He also brutally attacked my overlord, Sir Algar, without warning or just cause. The wound was mortal,” Rheged said.
“Ah, yes. I was sorry to hear of that. As to my brother’s end...” He turned to Tamsin and regarded her steadily. “For that, my lady, I thank you.”
Because he was now the lord of their father’s demesne, if he was the elder twin after all? Or because he hadn’t loved his brother?
She would well believe Roland of Dunborough did not, and never could, love anybody.
“So, are you the next in line, or is it Gerrard?” Rheged asked.
“According to my father’s will, I entered the world first. Is Broderick’s grave marked?”
Tamsin and Rheged exchanged looks. “We’ll have a stone carved.”
“Spare yourself the expense. Let him lie unmarked.”
Given that vengeance for his brother’s death was obviously not Roland’s reason for coming to Cwm Bron, and although she would rather not see much more of the man, courtesy demanded that she offer any nobleman the hospitality of the household. “Would you care to join us in the hall, my lord?”
Even as she asked the question, the door of the kitchen opened and Foster, covered in flour, came reeling out wielding a loaf of bread like a weapon. He paused, stared at them a moment, then went reeling back inside.
One corner of Roland’s mouth lifted in what might have been the beginning of a smile. “I think not.” His grim expression returned. “I came here to assure myself that my brother’s body would be treated as it deserved, and to thank you for ridding the world of him. He was a villain from the time he could talk. I won’t mourn Broderick, and neither should anyone else.”
A great weight seemed to lift from Tamsin, and she could see that Rheged was relieved, too.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said, “for easing my mind.”
“I gather there has also been some animosity between Lord DeLac and you both over the matter of your betrothal to my father, and then my brother, my lady,” Roland continued. “That has also been...” Again his lip lifted ever so slightly. “Dealt with.”
Another chill that had nothing to do with the air seemed to blow over Tamsin. “How?”
The man raised an eyebrow.
She swallowed and forced herself to speak with more courtesy. “I beg your pardon for my blunt question, but may we know how the matter has been resolved to your satisfaction? After all, it has caused us a great deal of trouble.”
“Lady Mavis and I are to marry.”
Mavis—merry, laughing, pretty Mavis—wed to this...this effigy? “Has she given her consent?”
A little furrow of puzzlement appeared between Roland’s dark eyebrows.
“My lord, I hope you’ll make sure she’s willing before you consider the betrothal certain. If she’s not, I pray you’ll do the honorable thing and allow her to refuse.”
“I have no wish to force a marriage,” Roland replied, much to Tamsin’s relief. “I was there when her father told her of the betrothal and she made no objection.”
Tamsin imagined Mavis standing in her father’s solar, with her father and especially this Roland, with those cold, dark eyes, looking at her. Mavis had no doubt been too intimidated to speak freely. Fortunately the marriage hadn’t happened yet, so there was still time for Mavis to object.
“But if you discover she doesn’t want to be your bride,” Tamsin persisted despite his unfriendly mien, “you will release her?”
The man drew himself up even straighter, although she would have thought that impossible. “My lady, while I appreciate your concern for your cousin’s feelings, I believe that whatever happens between that lady and me is our business, not yours. Now, since I’ve obtained the information I sought, I shall go.” He bowed stiffly. “Farewell, my lord, my lady. I hope you will do us the honor of attending the wedding when the time comes.”
“Of course, my lord,” Tamsin replied, silently adding,
If it ever does
.
Roland didn’t wait for them to respond before he mounted his midnight-black stallion and rode out the gates.
As the sound of his horse’s hoofbeats disappeared in the distance, Tamsin turned to Rheged and regarded him with dismay. “Mavis betrothed to that man! We must stop it!”
To her even greater dismay, Rheged didn’t seem as convinced of this as he should be.
“I’m not certain it’s our place to interfere.”
“You interfered in my betrothal,” she reminded him.
“Because, my lady, I was already in love with you.”
She smiled, but only for a moment. “I love Mavis like a sister. We must help her!”
“You heard him. She’s given her consent.”
“She was probably forced, as I was forced. Or too frightened to refuse with that...that
gargoyle
glaring at her. And he’s from that brood of vipers.”
“I shouldn’t have included Roland in that description. Of all Blane’s sons, he was the only one who was never cruel. Stern, I grant you, and cold, but not vicious or a wastrel, like Gerrard, and compared to Broderick, he’s a saint. And it should also be a comfort to know that from what I’ve heard about Roland, although he’s had a mistress or two, your cousin need not fear he’ll have a slew of lovers and illegitimate children.”
“But to think of her married to that man!”
“Since we’re to go to the wedding, you can surely arrange a few moments alone with her before the ceremony to assure yourself she truly wants to marry him, or to offer her sanctuary if she does not. After all, she’s my cousin, too, now. And,” he added with a smile, “since my wife has brought me a considerable dowry, I should have some influence at court, as well.”
“I hadn’t thought of that!” She sighed as he embraced her and held her close. “I have another reason to bless Algar.” She smiled up at him. “And you. Indeed I feel so blessed, it seems greedy to want more, and yet I do.”
“What is it you’d like, Tamsin?” he asked as he kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Tell me, and I’ll do my best to get it for your wedding present.”
“I hope you will do your utmost, husband, because what I want is a child.
Our
child.”
He laughed softly. “Now, that is a request I’ll be most happy to attempt to fulfill.” Then he drew back and she was surprised to see how serious he’d become. “I do foresee one difficulty, love of my heart. Once our child is born, you’ll be so busy tending it and running the household, I’ll hardly ever see you.”
“Is that all?” she chided with a look full of love before giving him another tender kiss. “I promise you, my lord, my love, that I’ll always have time for you. And we’ll always be alone in bed.”
Laughing softly, arm in arm, they took a moment to look up at the stars before they returned to the hall and all the household of Cwm Bron celebrating there.
* * * * *
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ISBN-13: 9781460335055
CASTLE OF THE WOLF
Copyright © 2014 by Margaret Wilkins
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