In The King's Service. Margaret Moore

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In The King's Service - Margaret  Moore


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pardon me, Dobbin,” she said to the older soldier, “I believe our guest wishes to speak to me.”

      The man nodded and, after giving Blaidd the once-over, meandered away, his men with him, leaving them alone near the barracks door.

      “I do wish to talk to you, my lady,” Blaidd agreed as he came to a halt. He struggled not to sound impatient, although his nerves were taut as a ship’s rigging in a gale. “Is there somewhere more private we can speak?”

      She raised one brow in query. “Do you think I’ll risk being alone with you again?” she asked quietly. “Whatever you have to say to me, you can do so here.”

      He subdued a scowl. “I’d like to know if you intend to tell your father about…” Rather than be specific, he gave her a look that she had to comprehend.

      “Why wouldn’t I?” she asked evenly, regarding him as steadily as Sir Urien Fitzroy on the training field after Blaidd had blundered.

      “Because I give you my word that I won’t do it again.”

      “It shouldn’t have happened the first time.”

      She must like watching him twist in the wind, he decided, but she had the upper hand, and they both knew it. “I agree, and I’m sorry. Sometimes desire overrules the head.”

      She snorted in a most unladylike manner. Her glance darted below his belt before returning to his face. “Something overrules your rational mind, Sir Blaidd. In that, you are like many men. However, since you’ve apologized again, I’ll be lenient.” Her gaze hardened. “But don’t take that as a sign that you may do as you please, with me or anyone else here. And might I suggest that, in future, you avoid situations that later require apologies.”

      He bowed and tried to make light of the situation. “I’ll try.”

      “You’d better do more than try, or you won’t get far in your wooing of my sister. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must see to the day’s meals.”

      With that, she walked past him, her head high and her bearing as regal as a queen’s.

      Even if she limped.

      Chapter Five

      Several days of rainy weather passed, during which Blaidd did his best to avoid Lady Rebecca while everyone was more or less confined to the castle. It was rather obvious she was of the same mind about him, for although they were often in the hall at the same time during the day, they spoke only during meals, and only when it was necessary. She dutifully played her harp for dancing when her father made the request, and Blaidd dutifully danced.

      He spent most of his time with Lady Laelia, as a man courting a woman should. Despite her outward beauty, however, this felt more and more like imprisonment. She asked very little about him personally, and didn’t seem to want to talk about anything to do with her family or her home. If he tried to ask questions, she appeared bored and listless.

      Finally, after several fruitless attempts to find a subject to spark her interest, he’d finally found one when he began to speak of the court. Then she grew more animated, asking questions about the king and queen, the lords and ladies, the entertainments, the royal apartments.

      When he wasn’t being interrogated by Laelia, he attempted to engage Lord Throckton in games of chess or draughts, hoping to sound the man out about his politics, to see if he could find any hint that Throckton was discontented enough with Henry’s rule to foment actual rebellion. Unfortunately, Lord Throckton usually insisted Blaidd stay with Laelia, as if this was a great favor, and spoke only vague generalities when he did not.

      In spite of these impediments and distractions, Blaidd kept an eye on the man as well as he could and discovered Throckton didn’t appear to do anything remotely suspicious. If he was planning rebellion, he was being very careful about it.

      Still, there were things that made it difficult for Blaidd to dismiss talk of traitorous plots completely. There was the man’s astonishing fortress, for one thing, constructed with as much expense and care as if he was expecting a war any day. The garrison had to number a hundred at least, and they were well trained and well armed. Blaidd had spent years with fighting men, and these were some of the finest soldiers he’d ever seen. Men that skilled and well trained didn’t come cheap.

      A lord could, of course, plead the necessity of guarding his land, but few put so much of their resources into it. Where was the man getting the money to pay for his soldiers, their weapons, and this castle? To be sure, the estate looked moderately prosperous, but even so, it didn’t seem possible that Throckton could afford such a fortress and provide for so many soldiers unless he had another source of income.

      Yet the man himself was so friendly, so pleasant….

      His father would tell him to utterly disregard that; nevertheless, Blaidd found it hard to accept that a man could be so hospitable and encouraging to a courtier of a king he despised and hoped to ruin.

      The other thing Blaidd had come to realize, although it had nothing to do with his mission, was the unusual position of Lady Rebecca in the household. By rights, and as the eldest, Lady Laelia should be the chatelaine, overseeing the food and linen and everything else in and about the hall and apartments. However, those tasks seemed to fall solely to Lady Rebecca. Keys jingling as she moved, she went from the kitchen to the storeroom to the buttery with seemingly tireless energy. She gave orders to the servants and spoke with the merchants who came to sell their goods. She apparently organized everything.

      Blaidd had yet to discover exactly what Lady Laelia did except look lovely and embroider.

      He wasn’t the only one getting restless here, either. Trev was clearly beginning to wish he had more to do than polish Blaidd’s sword and shield. He’d been good about obeying Blaidd’s admonitions concerning the serving women, but a bored youth and a pretty maidservant who always had a smile for him could find themselves in mischief soon, if the weather didn’t clear.

      Then, after a tedious evening during which Blaidd decided he and Trev would ride out the next day, rain or not, the morning dawned sunny and warm—a beautiful spring day. Blaidd felt years younger, and he was determined to get out for a gallop across a meadow.

      Blaidd was in such a good humor, he whistled as they left the chapel after Mass and headed toward the hall to break the fast. Lord Throckton walked beside him on his left, Lady Laelia glided along on his right and Trev brought up the rear. Lady Rebecca had disappeared, probably into the kitchen.

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