Chapter 11 #3
Louis smiled. “She does not like the court obligation,” he said. “Though she is fair. Her knowledge of the law and tradition of Annossy is complete, but I believe her heart is too kind for those times when justice must be harsh.”
“Then perhaps I might invite her to advise me on those days, until I know Annossy’s traditions.”
Louis nodded approval. “She has a rare talent for keeping the ledgers. Her hand is neat and her sums are always perfect. I know she takes pride in a well-formatted and complete ledger.”
“While I would not know where to begin,” Quinn said. “In my trade, tallies are kept in one’s head.” He tapped his temple.
Louis smiled and nodded. “I imagine so, my lord. My lady is frugal but not cruel. I have always admired her balance in managing the coin of the keep, as well as the inventory of spices and wine. She has a gift for making less seem like more.”
“There is a rare talent, as well as one I much admire.”
“She also anticipates matters with great cleverness. Her father was much concerned with hospitality and she has inherited that from him.”
Quinn nodded, recalling her concern about the evening meal upon their return. “I thank you, Louis, for your insight. Now I will know what to suggest to my lady wife.” He would have turned away, but the older man cleared his throat. “Aye, Louis?”
The chatelain looked quickly over his shoulder. “I do not wish to be a person who tells tales of others, my lord, but I am concerned that there is one in this household who does not welcome your arrival. He is one who my lady trusts, and I would not have her misled.”
“Of course not,” Quinn said. He raised a brow, inviting more.
“The Captain of the Guard conferred with my lady at length this morning. I do not know what was said, for he ensured they could not be overheard, and my lady gave no sign of her own reaction.”
Quinn could believe that. Melissande could hide her thoughts behind that veneer of ice if she so chose.
The chatelain frowned. “I am simply troubled by the timing. He went to her side as you were departing, sir, and spoke with her immediately afterward. She was agitated this morn, perhaps as a result.”
“I thank you for your warning, Louis.”
“I trust that you, sir, as my lady’s husband will see her defended, but I am not so convinced of the intentions of others in that regard.”
“I appreciate your concern, and will say naught of it.” Quinn bowed then smiled. “And now, I think, my bath does summon me.”
Gaultier. Already Quinn despised the man, yet he knew little of him.
Though it did not help that on the way to the stables, he spotted the two men-at-arms who had returned from the mill conferring with Gaultier in the bailey. Their manner was urgent and furtive. When one spotted him, he spoke to the others and the group quickly parted ways.
Aye, Quinn’s suspicions needed to be buttressed. Perhaps he would send Bayard to Tulley with a missive and ask for more detail about Gaultier.
Tulley had sent the man to Annossy, after all. He must know more of Gaultier’s credentials and alliances.
Lost.
Melissande was utterly lost.
Quinn looked splendid in the colors of Annossy, and he was attentive at the board that night.
He laid his hand upon the back of her waist as he spoke to his comrades at the board, and he ensured that her opinion was invited in every discussion.
He fed her the choicest morsels of the delicious pheasant stew that he had ensured was on the board, and she felt the warm weight of his gaze upon her.
He asked her about Annossy, about the histories of the holding, about the names of the villeins, about their histories.
He credited her with urging him to think of the welfare of all beneath his hand and she saw that he would excel at the task.
This warrior, so powerful and yet so gentle, would claim not just her body but her heart forever, and even knowing it was folly to surrender so readily, Melissande could not resist him.
A veritable champion courted her favor, attending to her concerns with such resolve that she could not imagine he would ever do aught else.
If it was a deception, it was a most potent one.
If all he seemed to be was his truth, if she could be certain of that, then Melissande knew she could surrender her heart to him forever.
But she was not certain.
And it infuriated her that she fulfilled every expectation of a woman’s weakness.
She surrendered to Quinn’s allure and his touch and his warrantees—even knowing they might be lies—with annoying ease.
Indeed, what had become of her resolve? What had become of her good sense?
How could two nights abed so addle her wits?
She sat at the board, fuming as Quinn charmed all at Annossy, resenting his easy conquest and despising her own weakness even more.
He offered his hand to her when the darkness had fallen and the conversation was fading, then escorted her to the stairs.
Melissande could fairly feel his expectation that they would lie together again, and her own body betrayed her with its tingle of enthusiasm.
Where would Annossy and she be if he took all they offered then abandoned them?
Berthe gave a sigh as she watched them and Bayard rolled his eyes at the maid’s reaction. Melissande shook her head even as Niall moved to be closer to Berthe. Bayard’s brow darkened but he did not follow.
Quinn leaned closer as they climbed the stairs. “What troubles you?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that made Melissande yearn for the weight of his hands upon her skin.
“That Berthe and Bayard so provoke each other. What is his intention, do you think?”
“Bayard? I expect he has none but pleasure,” Quinn replied easily.
As if that were not a problem.
Melissande stopped on the top step and her husband halted beside her. “You cannot mean that he will seduce my maid and leave her unwedded?” She kept her tone even with an effort, and was not reassured that Quinn seemed perplexed by her concern.
“His actions are not mine to govern,” he said easily.
“Though he is in your hall and eats at your board?” Melissande demanded, her voice rising.
Quinn’s expression turned wary. “Bayard is my comrade, not my vassal. I have no right to command his behavior.”
“But he is your friend! Surely he will act with honor!”
Quinn indicated that she should precede him into the solar. He gave Michel a nod, for the boy had followed them, and shut the door, leaning back against it to watch her. “And how would you define honor in this instance?” he asked.
That he could even ask such a question was no good sign. “Any man of merit would wed the woman he desires.”
“Any man of merit would not wed without the means to support a wife and family,” Quinn countered, his tone reasonable. “Bayard has no holding and no fortune. He may well intend to continue to earn his way as a mercenary, which is no fitting fate for any woman.”
Melissande put her hands on her hips. Though she agreed with this assessment, she still wished to defend her maid’s chastity. “Then you will look aside if he seduces her beneath the roof of Annossy?”
“Surely Berthe can choose for herself whether to be seduced or not?”
Melissande exhaled. She knew already how easily objections could be overcome by a man’s persuasive touch. Could Quinn have seduced her if they had not been wedded? She feared he might have found success. “Surely, your comrade should not even try to entice her,” she replied hotly.
“Surely Bayard’s choices are his own to make!” Quinn countered, his voice rising.
“This is not a camp of war, where all the women are whores. Nor is it some paradise where men can take their pleasure without regard for the consequences.”
“I scarce think that one maid’s seduction could lead to such repute...”
“This is a holding where maidens can come to give service to the lord and lady without fearing for their chastity!”
“Berthe need have no fear for her chastity!” Quinn replied, his eyes flashing. “Surely she has the wits to say nay.”
“Surely all women know that declining a man’s touch is not sufficient to turn him aside.”
“Do you suggest that my companion would see his desires sated with violence?” he demanded. “If so, you insult both me and my companion with your assumptions about his nature...”
“If he would seduce my maid without any thought of the future, your companion insults her with his assumptions about her nature.”
Quinn flung out his hands. “Bayard’s assignations are not my concern!”
“They are your concern,” Melissande snapped. “You are Lord d’Annossy. You have an obligation to every soul who takes shelter in this keep, to see him or her defended from violence, to see him or her fed and clothed, to see him or her protected.”
Quinn stepped back, his eyes narrowed. “I do not.”
“You most certainly do. They are your vassals and your villeins. Do you think their pledges of fealty come with no price? Do you imagine that you owe them naught for their loyalty and service?” Melissande spun on her heel and stormed to the other side of the solar.
“I cannot imagine why I feared Annossy being bled dry for the sake of Sayerne. You simply choose to turn Annossy into a new Sayerne.”
“I do not!”
“What is the difference?” Melissande cried. “Your father’s hall was one of ill-repute, and many of his villeins fled here to defend their daughters from the lusts indulged in his hall. Should Berthe be compromised by your companion, that deed will cast a long shadow.”
Quinn rubbed his brow. “I see.”