The Norman's Heart. Margaret Moore
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taken away to France with his uncle to avoid any taint from his father’s Saxon wife. She had not been very old then, but she remembered that of all her half brothers, Reginald was the only one who had ever said a kind word to her. “Thank you for providing it.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Reginald answered sincerely as he stood awkwardly by the door. “I always liked your mother, you know. The first time Father brought her home, she kissed me and said she hoped I would be her friend. Her voice sounded like music. I was quite sorry to say farewell to her when my uncle took me away with him.” He came a little closer, toying with the heavily decorated leather belt around his waist “I know it wasn’t easy for you, with my brothers and sisters. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help. But, Mina, I think Sir Roger will be a good husband for you. I truly do.”
Mina rose and went to the window. “He’ll be a husband, and more than that, I don’t expect.”
“He’s not the cold brute he seems, really. He was most kind after those horrible ruffians left us in the woods. He was even polite to the abbot who was captured with us, and I assure you, that was no small feat. I mean, for a man of God, you should have heard him! He acted as if Sir Roger had been personally responsible for his discomfort. And it was Sir Roger who suggested this marriage, you know.”
“I thought it was the Baron DeGuerre.”
“No!” Reginald came a little closer. “He suggested only that I marry Madeline de Montmorency. It was Sir Roger who came up with the alternative.”
“He only thought of it to please the baron,” she said.
“Mina, you mustn’t take such a cold view of this. I mean, if Sir Roger didn’t want to marry you, he wouldn’t. He and the baron are such good friends, I’m quite certain the baron wouldn’t hold it against him if he changed his mind.”
“You’re forgetting the value of our family name, Reginald. The baron needs your goodwill as much as you seek his.”
Reginald did not look convinced.
“I suppose the baron will be trying to make another match for you one day soon,” she said matter-of-factly, trying to alter the course of the conversation.
“What?”
“You would be a great prize, Reginald.” Not for a woman like herself, perhaps, who despised weakness, but he was a harmless, good-hearted fellow, and many a woman could do worse.
“I’m...I’m not ready after what happened last time,” he stammered.
In the next moment, however, he was pensively fingering one of his carefully arranged curls, and she had to suppress an indulgent smile. “Well, I would take care some woman doesn’t try to seduce you into marriage.”
“I will,” he answered solemnly. Then he blushed and cleared his throat. “Since you’ve raised, um, the subject, Mina, is there anything you need to know...about the wedding night?”
“I know what is expected of me,” she answered just as solemnly.
Reginald looked very relieved. “Well, that’s good. Excellent.”
She might have been tempted to smile again at her sibling’s comical discomfort, except for the sudden vision of a naked Sir Roger waiting for her in bed, his dark eyes watching her. Her pulse started to race, and it took some deep breaths to restore her calm.
“When do you return to France?” she asked.
“Oh, that,” he said. “Well, as a matter of fact, Mina, Sir Roger’s offered to let me stay here for a while. Southern France is so hot this time of year, and the travel would be so uncomfortable, I’ve agreed. And—” he lowered his voice and knit his brows together with genuine concern “—I do want to make sure he’s kind to you. I’ve heard how Father was near the end, and I think I owe you that much.”
Mina suddenly felt rather remorseful for the unflattering things she had thought about Reginald in the past. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
There was a loud rap at the door, and Hilda’s head appeared. “It’s time, my lady,” she announced solemnly. Her gaze ran over Reginald. “My lord,” she said with some awe.
“Well, Mina, shall we?” Reginald asked, holding out his arm to escort her to her wedding.
“Yes, Reginald,” Mina replied, and with a purposefully blank face and a heart lacking any expectation of true marital felicity, she went.
Chapter Five
Roger surveyed his hall while taking small sips of the expensive wine imported from Agincourt. He was glad that the weather had cleared enough to allow the wedding ceremony to be held outside the chapel. Everyone had been able to see the bride and groom as they stood in front of the doors and pledged their troth, albeit barely looking at each other. For his part, Roger’s gaze had been fastened firmly on doddering Father Damien, who seemed blissfully unaware that the couple he was joining in holy matrimony didn’t seem particularly thrilled by the idea.
At least the guests appeared to be enjoying the celebratory meal. Dudley had compelled the cooks to outdo themselves. Every dish of meat had a special sauce, and many smelled of an extravagant use of spices. The bread was wonderful, the fruit as fresh as could be, and the wine the best.
The decorations in the hall had been enhanced, too, with more flowers and linens. Reginald had provided a multitude of candles, so that the large room would continue to be brightly lit as the evening wore on.
Unfortunately, Roger’s pleasure in regarding the scene before him was definitely diminished by his growing obsession with the woman sitting beside him, now his wife.
He had expected his bride to be a vain, foolish woman of no particular beauty. He had anticipated finding his wedding ceremony no more exciting than any trade arrangement, and his wedding feast to be simply an expensive extension of the transaction. He had thought that he would take more pleasure in the baron’s company than anyone else’s, and find his new wife’s presence less distracting than that of a horsefly.
Instead, he had discovered that Mina Chilcott was quite unlike any other woman he had ever met. As she sat beside him tonight, he couldn’t help noticing how the green gown she was wearing enhanced her eyes and brought out the subtle purity of her skin beneath the few freckles, or how the gold circlet emphasized the golden highlights in her astonishing red hair.
His first impression of Mina, though, which had been rapidly corroborated, was of her fortitude and astounding inner strength, not usually qualities that excited one about a woman.
Tonight, it dawned on Roger de Montmorency that to win Mina Chilcott’s respect would be no common thing, and to have her desire him would be worth any effort it might take. He didn’t doubt that later, when they were alone in bed and he caressed her with his expert hands, he would bring her such ecstasy as she had never known. Yes, he would earn both her respect and her desire. More than that, he didn’t need or want.
Harboring such thoughts, Roger slipped into a companionable mood. Now he could overlook Father Damien’s mumbling of the blessing outside the chapel that had made him a married man, although at the time he had ground his teeth with frustration. Instead, he remembered the moment he had put the ring on Mina’s slender finger and repeated Father Damien’s words. She had not trembled or blushed, but thrust her hand toward him with a vigor he found exciting. No timid wench, Mina, and he hoped she would do everything with such enthusiasm.
Glancing at her seated to his right, he noticed that she was not eating, despite the plethora of fine foods placed before her. Well, he supposed many brides lacked that kind of an appetite.
“A bountiful feast,” the baron, who was seated on Roger’s left, remarked, as if he had been reading his host’s mind. “You’re not eating much.”
Startled, Roger looked at his own trencher