When Love Awaits

Chapter 38

ROLFE leaned back in his chair and fixed Thorpe with a steady gaze.

It was always good to consult his old friend. The talk with Bertrand of Marhill and his son Reginald had gone well. They had begged off staying any longer once the meeting was over, because they had left guests of their own in order to meet with Rolfe. Rolfe was well pleased. It was as Henry had said. Bertrand had several sons that Rolfe could make use of, and that was just what he needed. Rolfe's own men were loath to take the responsibility of governing his remaining keeps. They preferred soldiering.

"What do you think of Sir Reginald? Will he make a good castellan of Warling?"

"He seems eager enough, overeager in fact," Thorpe replied thoughtfully. "Until now he had only the prospect of Marhill, and that only after Bertrand dies. I think he will serve you well, if only to prove he is worthy of Marhill when the time comes."

"I agree. Now we have only to win Warling."

"Another week or two, and the walls will give," Thorpe predicted confidently. "The tunnel at Blythe is in the works as well. Kempston should be well secured before the first snows. And what will we do then?

We will have peace across your lands, and nothing left to do."

Rolfe grinned. "Let me enjoy peace for a while, before I go looking for another war."

"You may come to like being a landed lord too well to go hieing off to war."

Rolfe said nothing. He was considering the truth of that statement, and Thorpe knew it.

Thorpe grunted. "At any rate, I see your point. It was wise to sound out Sir Bertrand and his son before you actually need them. To tell the truth, I thought you were only using this meeting as an excuse to see your wife."

Rolfe grinned, and Thorpe guffawed. "Damn me! I was right!"

"Whatever brings me back here is welcome." Rolfe shrugged.

"And what did she think of your enlisting two of Bertrand's sons for your own keeps? He did say he had another son who would do well for Blythe Keep?"

"Yes, but I have not told Leonie yet."

Thorpe rolled his eyes heavenward. "What can you be thinking of, my friend? Sir Bertrand isherman."

"I know."

"You should have consulted her before you made him the offer."

"I meant to, but last night . . . was not the time. And this morning"—he smiled fondly—"she was sleeping so peacefully, I couldn't waken her.

But what can she object to? I have simply bound the family more firmly to us. The father will work for her, the sons for me."

"A woman can be more jealous of what is hers than a man would ever be."

Rolfe frowned. "How is it that you know so much about women all of a sudden?"

"I know a good deal more than you do, apparently."

Rolfe grunted, stretching his arm to reach the cold meat on a platter which the young serving maid was just bringing to the table. Rolfe noted her smile and his eyes followed her as she walked away.

"If you know so much about women," he demanded of Thorpe, "tell me what the devil has plagued the women around me. I do not mean my wife."

Thorpe choked on a bit of bread. "What women?" he managed without grinning.

"All of them! The servants, the wives of my men. For weeks every one of them behaved as if I were diseased. Now suddenly I get smiles all the time. Lady Bertha even rode over to Warling to bring me a fruit pie, and Warren's wife sent flowers—flowers!"

Thorpe could not hide his amusement any longer and laughed with delight. "They are doubtless trying to make amends for thinking it was you who beat your wife on your wedding night. Lady Leonie was the one who corrected the mistake. I hear she was quite angry when she learned you were being blamed for what her father did."

"She was beaten. Who says so?"

Thorpe's humor fled. Rolfe had paled, and his body was still as death.

"Damn me, Rolfe, do you mean you didn't know? But you spent the night with her. How could you not know?"

"Who?" Rolfe repeated. His voice was a whisper.

"Lady Roese caught a glimpse of her face the next morning when the ladies came for your sheets," Thorpe said uneasily.

"How badly was she beaten?"

Thorpe realized he had to tell all he knew. "Apparently it was a harsh beating. I heard it said Lady Leonie's face was swollen grotesquely and blackened with bruises. That is what shocked Lady Roese so badly.

Thinking you were responsible, she did not keep quiet about the beating."

"You knew all this, and you never spoke to me about it?"

"I thought surely youknew.I would not have mentioned any of this now except for the gossip and . . ."

Thorpe watched as Rolfe leaped from his chair and bounded out of the hall in six strides. A few moments later, he jumped as a door slammed shut upstairs.