Chapter Five #2
She smiled, once again flattered by his compliment.
“I was wondering if we may speak on something,” she said.
“I know it may seem silly, but I have never been married before, and I was wondering what your expectations of me are. As your wife, I mean. Are there certain things you expect from me? Things you expect me to do? I see other married folk, like my parents, and I see how they are with each other. How each person has a role. I was wondering what you expect from us. From me.”
She was rambling on a little, as if she didn’t know, exactly, how to ask the question. But it was a legitimate question as far as he was concerned, and an astute one. The woman wanted to know what she was getting in to.
“That is a reasonable concern,” he said. “But there is no simple answer. Being my wife will require all of the usual things—tending my home, tending to me. We’ve not discussed this, but I have two daughters. Did you know that?”
Diara nodded. “Beckett told me,” she said. “Adalia and Dorian.”
“That is correct.”
“Are they fostering?”
“They were, but they returned home a couple of years ago,” he said. “They had been fostering since they were young, and I simply wanted them home, with me. They live at Pembridge.”
“Are they your chatelaines?”
Roi snorted. “Nay,” he said. “Though they are involved in the management of the house at my mother’s insistence.
Dorian is fourteen years of age, and all she wants to do is tend to her horses.
She has four of them. She cares nothing for managing a household, but my major-domo does require her to do chores.
She must help manage the stores, and she hates every minute of it.
Adalia, on the other hand, understands the duties more. ”
“How old is she?”
“She has seen seventeen years.”
“Then she is a woman grown.”
Roi half nodded, half shrugged. “Nearly,” he said. “She is much more adept at doing things around the keep, but she has a terrible head for figures. I am constantly having to fix her sums. If there are ten onions in a bag, she’ll count seven. She always has. But she has other talents.”
“Is she betrothed?”
Roi shook his head. “She is not,” he said. “Men terrify her. She is of an age where I must think about seeking her a husband, but every time I bring it up, she weeps. She says she would rather go to a convent.”
“Is that a choice for her?”
“I suppose,” he said. “But I am hoping she outgrows this fear. I do not think it is normal for a lass to feel that way.”
“Mayhap she hasn’t met the right man yet.”
“Mayhap.”
The conversation lagged a little, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Roi was aware he hadn’t fully answered her question, so he reached out and took her hand. Holding it tightly, he began to walk again.
“As for you,” he said. “I suppose my expectations would be that we always try to understand one another, that we always be kind to one another, and that we always be truthful. A marriage is nothing without truth.”
Diara liked the feeling of her hand in his big, warm palm. It made her feel safe. “I will agree completely,” she said. “Sometimes the truth is difficult, but it is better to know than to not know. Nothing solid can be built on a foundation of deceit and secrets.”
“Very wise,” he said, smiling at her. “Who taught you such things?”
“I had to learn for myself.”
“Where?”
They were on to something she really didn’t want to talk about.
She wasn’t sure how they got here, but she’d opened the door when she made her comment—I had to learn for myself.
She supposed that she should tell him before someone else did.
The man traveled in the first social circle and knew many warlords, including de Redvers.
He hadn’t been oblivious to what his wife and daughters did to Diara, so she thought that perhaps it was time for a little of the truth she just spoke of and hope she didn’t offend him.
“You mentioned that you knew the House of de Redvers?” she said.
He nodded. “Of course.”
“Do you know the family well?”
“Well enough.”
“What do you think of them?” she said. “Are you a good friend?”
At this point, they’d reached the kitchen yard. There were a few goats and chickens scattered about, and servants as they moved about on the course of their duties. Coming to the gate, Roi paused again and faced her.
“I’m assuming you’re asking for a reason.”
“Aye.”
“You fostered at Carisbrooke,” he said. “Are you a good friend of Lady de Redvers?”
She hesitated a moment before slowly shaking her head. “Nay,” she said. “She did not like me very much.”
He scratched his head, clearing his throat as if he wanted to say a good deal, but instead, he was searching for the right words.
“I had wondered,” he muttered. “Aye, I know them well. Am I a good friend? Nobody is good friends with Richard de Redvers and his wife… She’s respected, but not well liked. She is a shrew of a woman, from what I’ve seen.”
Diara felt a great deal of relief with that statement.
It would be easier to be honest with him about her time at Carisbrooke now.
“I would never disparage them because they taught me a great deal,” she said.
“But you should know that Lady de Redvers and her daughters were not very nice to me. If we are speaking truthfully, they were horrible to me. It wasn’t bad in the beginning, when I first went to foster when I was about twelve, but as I grew into womanhood, they became quite… unkind.”
Roi wasn’t without sympathy. “How so?”
Diara showed some reluctance. “I do not wish to complain.”
“You are not complaining by telling me the facts.”
“I do not wish for you to think I am a gossip, or worse.”
“By speaking of your experience at Carisbrooke? I would not think that.”
She took a deep breath. “The daughters did not like me because the pages and squires would pay attention to me and not to them,” she said.
“I do not ignore people. I like to talk to them because I find people interesting, but there was a squire that one of the daughters was sweet on, and he did not like her. He would only talk to me.”
Roi nodded in understanding. “And that is when the trouble started.”
“Aye,” Diara said timidly. “They told the other wards not to speak to me, and soon, none of the women would. The only people I had to talk to were the other pages and squires, and even some of the knights, because the women shunned me. Lady de Redvers would punish me for what she considered inappropriate behavior, all because the only friends I had were the boys around me. It only grew worse as I got older, and finally, I had to beg my father to let me come home. The other woman had resorted to stealing my things and cutting my hair while I slept. I am telling you this not to complain, as I said, but should you ever encounter Lord de Redvers and his wife, and they only have terrible things to say about me, I want you to know the truth. You can ask any of the men or boys at Carisbrooke about me and they will bear witness that I was never immoral or sinful. They will tell you that I was quite persecuted.”
There was not one part of that rather painful statement that Roi didn’t believe implicitly.
He knew the de Redvers. He knew that they were petty and ambitious.
The House of de Lohr didn’t have a close relationship with them, but the House of de Winter did, and de Winter was a great friend to Hereford.
Roi had been in the politics of England too many years not to know of the disdain most had for the de Redvers.
Diara’s story was probably one of many emerging from Carisbrooke, stories of poor treatment and shame. He felt a great deal of pity for her.
“I would never believe what they told me, even if I did not know you,” he said. “But you should know that before I came to Cheltenham, I was told that you had something of a reputation for being… friendly.”
As he watched, her eyes filled with tears.
“I am so very sorry,” she said. “I know those rumors have been going around, but I did not know you had heard them. I swear to you on all that is holy that they are not true. I’ve never let a man touch me, and I swear upon my very life that I have never even been kissed.
I would never let a man I was not betrothed or married to do such a thing. ”
The tears were falling, and he grasped her hands, holding them against his chest. “Listen to me,” he said softly as she sniffled.
“I know they are not true. I am a good judge of character because, quite often, my life depends on it, and I can tell that you are a woman of good and noble character. You are sweet and friendly, and that can rouse jealousy in the hearts of those who are not. They wish they were like you. They envy your spirit and your beauty. Those are the people who have started those rumors, without merit, and I do not believe any of it. Please do not weep. I will defend your honor to the death, my lady, I promise.”
That only made her weep harder. “No one has ever said that to me,” she said, pulling a hand free out of pure necessity and wiping the tears from her face. “Not even my father. He is ashamed of me.”
“I am not. And I am the only one who matters.”
She nodded, overcome by his support, and he smiled at her. Lifting the hand he still held, he kissed it sweetly, twice, before reaching out to smooth a few stray pieces of hair from her face.
“Stop your tears,” he said gently. “There is no need. I will take care of everything from this point forward, and woe to the man or woman who repeats anything unsavory about you. They will have to deal with me.”
She was trying to regain her composure. “Thank you,” she said. “But I am very sorry my burden will become yours.”
He kissed her hand again. “I’m not,” he said. “My shoulders are very big for such burdens, in case you’ve not yet noticed.”
She took a deep breath, stilling herself. “I’ve noticed,” she said. “I’ve noticed everything about you, and it’s all quite nice.”