The Norman's Heart. Margaret Moore
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comfortable going out alone.” She daintily dipped her fingers in a bowl of scented water beside Sir Roger and delicately wiped them on her napkin before rising. “Good day, gentlemen. I shall look forward to your gracious company at the evening meal, when I have returned from my ride.”
“I will not provide an escort,” Sir Roger reiterated.
“I understood you the first time, sir,” she replied evenly. She caught sight of Reginald, who was desperately shaking his head and winking as he tried to warn her to acquiesce to Sir Roger’s wishes.
She could easily ignore her half brother.
Sir Roger shot a glance at Reginald, who flushed bright red and cleared his throat awkwardly. “Mina, perhaps it would be better if you were to stay here today. It was a long and difficult journey, and the rest will do you good.”
“How kind of you to think of my well-being, Reginald. I appreciate it all the more for its rarity. Now I bid you a good day,” she replied, curtsying with maidenly modesty.
Roger wasn’t deceived. He saw her slightly stubborn smile and the hard gleam of determination in her eyes.
He recognized that look on her face. The best knights had it, for it revealed an unyielding desire to win in any situation. Inflexible fortitude was an admirable quality in a nobleman—but certainly not in a woman. There was only one kind of desire he wanted in a woman.
Then Mina Chilcott swept out of the hall without so much as a backward glance. God’s blessed blood, she was like no woman he had ever met before. Thank God.
Reginald cleared his throat again. “There, you see, my lord,” he said eagerly. “She can be reasonable.”
“Good,” Roger replied, but he was far from convinced that Mina Chilcott had any intention of obeying either him or Reginald. That smile, that superior little smile—the man who had trained him in the arts of war had always smiled like that when he expected Roger to fail, and that smile had too often proved prophetic. He had come to hate that smile of Fitzroy’s very much.
“If you excuse me, my lord,” Reginald said, “I have not much of an appetite this morning.” He got up and wandered in the general direction of the outer door, then into the courtyard.
“If he consumes that much when he has little appetite, I fear for the contents of my larder,” Roger said sarcastically.
Albert shifted in his chair. “Your betrothed has spirit, my lord,” he offered. “Very stimulating, and surely suggestive of a passionate nature, too.”
Roger looked at his friend with some surprise. “What’s this, Albert? I haven’t heard you comment on a woman in years.”
“And you seem to be going to great effort to be unpleasant,” Albert noted.
“I am the way I am,” Roger replied. “If she’s going to be my wife, she had better get used to me.”
“I’ve seen you be quite charming toward other women, Roger,” Albert chided gently. “I should think you would make an effort for your betrothed.”
“It is precisely because she is my betrothed that there is no need for any exertion on my part. She will be in my bed on our wedding night whether she wants to be or not. Or whether I want her or not, for that matter.”
“You are a heartless creature, Roger!” Albert said with very real dismay.
“I am the way I am,” Roger repeated coldly, getting to his feet. If he had no heart, that was not his fault. It was God’s, or fate, or the whim of nature that had taken his parents from him too soon. And it was the fault of his parents’ friends, who had decided it was best that Roger go to Castle Gervais to learn the ways of knighthood while his sister Madeline was sent to a convent.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Albert said. “I just thought you could be a little friendlier to her. I’ve heard some things... I don’t think she’s had a particularly easy life.”
Roger thought of the scars on Mina’s back, and although to a casual observer his face would have seemed expressionless, Albert saw that his words had affected his friend.
“Very well,” Roger said. “I will make an effort to be polite, if that will please you.”
“It will, indeed.”
Roger gave Albert the ghost of a grin as they headed to the door. “I daresay it’s quite a trial shepherding Reginald.”
Albert chuckled companionably.
“We had best see what damage the storm brought about,” Roger said. “I am especially concerned about the mill. If the water was strong enough to ruin a bridge, it might have damaged the wheel.” He halted abruptly when he looked into the yard.
Mina Chilcott, attired in a long blue cloak that made her chameleon eyes look like the sky in the first days of spring, sat upon her horse with absolutely no escort in sight. Her mount was a brokendown nag who had obviously seen better and younger days, quite a contrast to the splendid stallion Reginald rode.
Reginald hurried up behind them. “I say, Mina!” he called out nervously. “I won’t give you an escort, you know.”
“Don’t fret, Reginald,” she said with an infuriatingly cool smile directed at Roger. “Unlike some people, I have learned to do without.”
Roger stared at her, very well aware that Hilda had used similar words when she had waylaid him in the corridor the previous night.
He marched toward Mina Chilcott. He would not provide an escort, and no woman—not even this one—should ride alone and unprotected. Before-he could reach her, however, she kicked her horse’s side and went galloping out of the gate, the beast moving with more speed than he would have thought possible.
“Stop!” Roger shouted, running a few steps after her, but she either didn’t hear him, or, more likely, ignored him and rode on.
“Saddle my horse!” he called to one of the lads gawking out of the stable door, suddenly cognizant of the humiliating spectacle he had made of himself. When the boy rushed to do his bidding, Roger turned and glared at Reginald. “Your sister has seen fit to disobey both of us,” he said through clenched teeth. “I am going after her and when I find her, I fully intend to make sure she understands that was not a wise decision!”
Chapter Three
Mina smothered a pleased laugh as the troop of mounted men thundered past her hiding place in the grove of beech trees beside the road. She could see well enough to catch the grim expression on Sir Roger’s handsome face, and the frightened one on Reginald’s. He hated a pace faster than a walk, so this headlong gallop after her had to be terrifying.
Poor fellow! There was no need for Sir Roger to insist upon his presence, for she was quite sure Reginald had been compelled to go either by a direct order, or the force of Sir Roger’s malevolent glare.
The other soldiers simply looked intent upon keeping up with their lord. She could well imagine the harsh words with which Sir Roger would upbraid them if they fell behind.
When the sound of the horses disappeared in the distance, Mina took off her stiffened headband and wimple and walked her horse along a narrow path through the unfamiliar woods. The land around the rise on which the castle stood was flat and even, but a short distance away, the forest began, as well as the slight swell of rounded foothills. Squirrels scampered overhead, and she caught the occasional call of a jay nearby.
As she continued on her leisurely journey, she realized her future home was located in very pretty countryside. The path wound close to tended fields, and she could hear snatches of conversation among the peasants. They spoke of the coming harvest and their families, and they made jokes. Sir Roger must be a good lord, she thought, or she would hear complaints and grumbles from people thinking themselves