Knave Of Hearts. Shari Anton
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Grateful for what he hoped would be sensible meeting of minds, Stephen followed the steward to the right side of the bed.
Carolyn’s father appeared much as Stephen expected: aged, white-haired and withered. But, possibly due to Marian’s cautions, Stephen noted the sharp clarity and unmistakable self-assurance within the man’s deep-set brown eyes. Carolyn had inherited her father’s eyes, his intelligence, and most probably his stubborn nature.
Stephen nodded to William de Grasse, who occupied a bed with the dignity befitting a king upon his throne. “Good tidings, William. ’Tis good we finally meet.”
“You find your bedchamber to your liking, your lordship?” he asked, the words slightly ill formed.
“I have traveled widely, both in England and without. I find no lack in Branwick’s hospitality.”
William’s head bobbed slightly at the compliment. He folded his right arm over the unmoving left. “Your travels kept you away overlong, Stephen of Wilmont. So much so that my daughter cast aside her good manners and left the hall in a snit. I will, certes, speak to her about her rudeness, though you did sorely test her temper.”
Stephen withheld a request to ignore Carolyn’s behavior. ’Twas a father’s right to reprimand his children, no matter their sex or age. Stephen could only hope for light discipline so Carolyn wouldn’t be more upset with him than she was already.
However, he wasn’t about to apologize to either father or daughter for helping his brother.
“Carolyn’s expectations aside, I took charge of a task for my brother, Richard. The duty took me longer than anticipated.”
William said nothing, only looked at him expectantly. Stephen allowed that a fuller explanation might be in order. A man might understand what a woman might not and, given Carolyn’s hard feelings, he needed William’s good opinion.
“King Henry settled the guardianship of an orphaned boy on Richard. I offered to inspect the boy’s lands in Normandy and assess any threat of interference from his paternal relatives. There was resistance, not over the boy, but over control of the fees and rents from the boy’s inheritance.”
“You arranged a bargain?”
He had, except Richard hadn’t liked the bargain. In the time it had taken Stephen to bring the boy’s uncle to England to exchange Philip for more coin and goods than Richard could ever hope to gain in one fell swoop, his brother had grown fond of his ward and wouldn’t give over.
“Nay, only brought the two parties together so a bargain could be reached.”
“Then your brother’s problem is resolved.”
“So I believe.”
William frowned. “You do not know?”
The accusatory tone didn’t sit well.
“The last I saw of the boy’s uncle, he was returning to Normandy without taking his nephew. Richard considered the matter done, so I left Richard’s holding for Wilmont, to report on the situation to our brother, Gerard.”
“I see.”
Stephen heard disapproval. That William thought Stephen left his brother without hope of further aid wasn’t to be borne, no matter how much he wanted William’s goodwill. He did, however, try to keep his anger under control. ’Twas his loss of temper that had gotten Richard into trouble, and Stephen sensed he was in quite enough trouble now without inviting more.
“Should Richard need further help he need only send to Gerard, who will bring every resource of the barony of Wilmont to play, if warranted. Gerard also knows where to send for me if I am needed. Though I thank you for your concern over my brother’s welfare, I assure you ’tis not necessary.”
William waved a dismissing hand in the air. “I have no doubt Gerard of Wilmont can take care of any problem that may come his way. ’Tis you I have my doubts about, Stephen.”
Very aware of his less than steady reputation, and knowing it was one of the reasons Carolyn considered his suit, Stephen asked warily, “How so?”
“Let me say that I do not consider you a suitable mate for my daughter.”
Not suitable? He was a knight of Wilmont, a member of one of the most powerful families in the kingdom. His wealth far surpassed that of William de Grasse. If he had a mind to, he could gather more men-at-arms than necessary to lay siege to Branwick and take it by force. Surely the man knew Stephen of Wilmont to be a better match for his daughter than lowly Edwin of Tinfield.
Had the apoplexy somehow affected William’s mind more than anyone at Branwick, including Marian, wanted to admit?
“Your daughter considers me suitable.”
“My daughter also believes herself capable of overseeing Branwick and her dower lands without assistance.” William tilted his head. “If Carolyn considers you more suitable than Edwin, then why is she out riding with him instead of attending you?”
Stephen couldn’t comment on Carolyn’s ability to manage her and her father’s lands, but he was fairly sure of why Carolyn had dragged Edwin out of the keep.
“To test my resolve. Carolyn wants to know if I insult easily, and if I can give back as good as she gives. I suspect her elderly husbands could not.”
The corner of William’s mouth twitched. “I gather you believe you can?”
“Aye, I believe I can.”
“We shall see.”
William’s attention swerved to the sound of little feet pounding across the rushes.
Stephen turned in time to see the twins pull up short behind Armand. He recognized them as Audra and Lyssa, the peasant girls he’d seen earlier.
His first thought was to shield them against their lord’s anger at being interrupted. The smile on William’s face belied all trace of ire.
To Stephen’s amazement, William beckoned the girls forward. “Back so soon?”
Lyssa nodded. “Cook plopped the eggs into the soup kettle to boil.”
Stunned that the girls had been allowed to interrupt, Stephen glanced down at the basket Audra held. Six hard-cooked eggs lay nestled within.
William looked up behind the girls. “Where is your mother?”
“Wrapping the altar cloth.” Audra held up the basket. “Can we eat these while they are yet warm?”
William patted the bed, an invitation the girls readily accepted. Before Lyssa hopped up on the bed, she flashed Stephen a sunny smile.
“Would you care to share our eggs, Lord Stephen?”
Stephen doubted William would appreciate it, and decided to take his leave while the old lord was in a good mood. He chucked Lyssa under the chin, grateful that at least one female at Branwick considered him worthy of her regard.
“My thanks, little one, but I would not think to deprive you of your treat. We shall continue our talk later, William.”
Stephen left the bedside, Armand at his heels. He headed for the door, hoping a brisk walk might help clear up some of his confusion.
Apparently William de Grasse had gleaned information, and little of it good, on Stephen of Wilmont from someone. Carolyn? Possibly. Marian? Hellfire, had she carried her irritation with him too far, belittled him to her uncle? Somehow he couldn’t bring himself to see Marian as vindictive.
Why were two little girls allowed the freedom of the great hall without the supervision of their mother? Strange, that. Children simply weren’t allowed to interrupt their lord for any reason, but the twins had been joyously welcomed.
Like Richard with his ward. Or Gerard with his sons. Could it be…?
“Armand,