Chapter Four #2
McCloud held a steady expression even though he was shocked to hear that Vesper had mentioned Mat. “Because… because someone must remain at the farm to tend it,” he said. “My son does not like to leave home. He prefers to remain there.”
It was a reasonable explanation, one that Val believed. He had no reason not to. “I hope to meet him someday,” he said.
McCloud forced a smile, vastly uncomfortable on the subject of his son. “He is not very sociable, unfortunately,” he said. “But… but we would, of course, be honored with your visit.”
Val was chewing on his pork now, using a broad knife to shovel it into his mouth. “Durley,” he said thoughtfully. “Did you tell me once that it was near Southampton?”
“I did.”
Val continued to chew. “I’ve not been to Southampton in quite a while,” he said. “I have heard the weather is quite fair there. Mayhap my mother and I are due for a visit.”
Margaretha was sipping at her hot, mulled wine, her favored drink. “There is nothing in Southampton that I could want for,” she said, making it clear she had no intention of visiting the d’Avignon homestead. “Much like your friend’s son, I prefer to remain at home.”
McCloud turned to her. “I do not blame you in the least, my lady,” he said. “Selborne is a beautiful place. I would never want to leave it, either.”
Margaretha looked at the man, hearing that appraising tone again, the same one she’d heard when he’d first arrived at Selborne. She didn’t like it in the least and her eyes narrowed as she responded.
“The castle has been in my family for well over two hundred years,” she said. “My family heritage is Saxon, a long and distinguished line. We managed to keep our lands when the Normans came and when I die, the estate shall be passed to Valor.”
McCloud wasn’t oblivious to the woman’s suspicious nature; he could read it in her expression.
Not that he blamed her, for in this case, she was absolutely right – he was quite envious of Selborne.
He had been since he’d walked through the gates and, in seeing the great castle, the plans that had been working in his mind since Whitehill began to take definitive form.
He’d had the entire afternoon to think on his scheme and plan what was to come.
It was a pity for greatness like Selborne to belong only to one man, one family.
But confident in his plan as he was, he also knew that he had to be very careful about his words or actions if Lady Margaretha was already suspicious of him.
Yet his plan, for all of its unsophisticated beauty, was so very simple… .
If he could marry Vesper to Val, his troubles would be over.
Even if McCloud’s body didn’t move swiftly these days, his mind did.
It was clear that Val wasn’t married and McCloud was seeking a husband for his daughter.
That has been his whole purpose of going to Eynsford – a marriage for his daughter that would lift their family out of their poverty-stricken state.
What could be better than a marriage between Vesper and his dear friend, the Itinerant Justice of Hampshire?
Not only would it ensure the survival of the House of d’Avignon, but if Mat’s ghastly deeds were ever discovered, surely Vesper’s husband could not punish his wife’s brother.
It was the perfect situation.
But he had to be more clever than Lady de Nerra for his plans to come to fruition. He didn’t want her blocking his attempts. In truth, there was something to be said for him marrying again as well. And with Lady de Nerra being a widow, that might be another avenue to pursue.
Ah, yes… be clever!
“Then your son and his future wife are very fortunate to not only have such a distinguished matriarch, but such a fine estate,” he said after a moment, throwing in a little flattery for the old bird.
“In fact, Val never told me he had such a lovely mother. I shall become very angry at him for not telling me.”
Ripples of surprise rolled across Margaretha’s face, stumped for a reply for the first time in a very long while. But that surprise quickly turned to annoyance. “Flattery will not work on me,” she told McCloud. “I am too old to fall victim to such things.”
McCloud grinned. “That cannot be true,” he said. “For certainly, when I first saw you, I believed you to be Val’s sister.”
Margaretha nearly choked on her wine, but her round cheeks flushed a bit. “Then your eyesight is terrible.”
“That is possible, but I still know a lovely woman when I see one, Lady de Nerra. You can deny it all you want, but I know the truth.”
Margaretha hadn’t been complimented in so many years that the soft praise poked holes in her brusque matter.
Perhaps McCloud was only feigning his flattery, perhaps he wasn’t.
Perhaps he really meant it. Margaretha was so unused to such things that she simply didn’t know what to think and her feminine vanity, long buried, began to awaken, just a little.
As his mother flushed and pretended not to care that a man had paid her a compliment, Val watched the entire scene with a grin on his face. He loved seeing his mother ruffled.
“Keep talking, McCloud,” he encouraged the man. “Mayhap you will cause her to smile. I think she likes it.”
Margaretha waved a hand at her son as if to brush him off. “You are a beast,” she told him. “Flattery is the product of a weak male mind.”
Val’s eyebrows lifted, looking at the other men around the table, including Calum. “Did you hear that?” he said to the knight. “Your mind must be horribly weak because I know for a fact that you flattered Celesse most sickeningly when you were courting her.”
Calum laughed. “And I thought I was being rather clever about it.”
Celesse patted his cheek. “You were, my love,” she said. “You were so clever that I believed every word.”
“And now look at you.”
Celesse sighed and patted her pregnant belly. “Aye, now look at me,” she said. Then, she looked at Vesper. “Are you married, my lady?”
Vesper, who had been paying less attention to the conversation and more attention to her food, looked at Celesse as if startled by the question. Mouth full, she struggled to swallow her bite.
“N-Nay, my lady, I am not,” she said.
Celesse didn’t sense that she might be embarrassing the guest. “I cannot believe such a thing,” she said, meaning it as a compliment. “You are quite lovely, which I am sure has not gone unnoticed by any of the unmarried knights here. Are you betrothed?”
Vesper was starting to flush again, her cheeks turning hot. “I am not, my lady,” she replied, praying this woman would move to another subject. Not wanting to take the chance that she wouldn’t, she sought to change the focus herself. “May I ask when your child is due to be born?”
Any mention of her baby and Celesse was more than willing to speak on it. She forgot about the unmarried lady at the table and beamed as she rubbed her belly.
“Early next year,” she said. “Calum wishes to return to Scotland to present the babe to his father, who is the Constable of Scotland. Have you heard of him? His father is the Lord of Westmoreland.”
She said it proudly and Vesper shook her head. “Alas, I have not heard of him, but that is a very prestigious association,” she said. “Was your husband born in Scotland, then?”
From Vesper’s other side, Val spoke. He found he simply couldn’t keep out of a conversation with Vesper involved, not even when the subject didn’t directly concern him.
“Calum was born in Scotland but he has spent most of his life in England,” he said.
“He does not sound like a Scots, nor does his brother, Hugh. Calum, what has become of Hugh as of late? He used to visit us quite often because we are on the road between Winchester Castle and London, but now we never see him.”
The women were pushed out of the conversation completely as Calum replied. “He has been with Henry in Winchester as far as I know,” he said. “But my father has also been ill so it is possible he has returned to Scotland. I am not for certain.”
Val’s gaze lingered on his friend. “I told you that you could return to Scotland, too, to see to your father.”
Calum shook his head, looking at his wife. “I do not want to take the chance that I will not return before my son is born.”
Val understood his point of view, but his thoughts inevitably turned to Scotland. “I would like to return to Scotland someday,” he said. “I always thought I would like to live in the north. It is such a wild place but it is also a place of such beauty. Have you ever been north, Lady Vesper?”
Vesper shook her head as the conversation swung back to her. “Never,” she replied. “But I have heard it is quite lovely.”
“Then mayhap you should ask your husband to take you there for your wedding trip.” Mayne suddenly entered the conversation from across the table.
He’d been staring at Vesper through the entire conversation with something more than polite interest. “I must agree with Celesse. I cannot believe that you are not married or at least betrothed. What fool has allowed you to get away from him?”
Vesper had never been around so much flattery in her life. She was certain her cheeks would be a permanent shade of pink after this. But before she could answer, Val stepped in.
“That is a rather impertinent question, don’t you think?” he asked Mayne, frowning. “You will apologize for being rude.”
There was a flicker of jealousy in Val’s eyes, which surprised Mayne.
Still, in hindsight, he shouldn’t have been surprised.
Lady Vesper was quite lovely, something that wouldn’t have gone overlooked by Val.
He had an eye for pretty women. Opening his mouth to plead the lady’s forgiveness, Mayne was interrupted when Vesper lifted a hand to him.