Chapter 12 #3
How much had she vexed him with her sharp tongue the night before? God in Heaven, but she hoped that her words had not prompted him to be careless.
“He also insisted that the gate be kept closed in his absence,” Amaury added.
“It is unreasonable,” Gaultier began to argue, but Melissande glared at him.
“It is not your place, Gaultier, to challenge the command of the Lord d’Annossy,” she said coldly.
“My lord husband must have good reason for his decision and his order, and so his command shall be obeyed.” She turned and nodded to the two knights.
“I thank you for these tidings. Please ensure that my lord husband’s will is done. ”
“Aye, my lady,” they said in unison and she could not miss the satisfaction both showed.
She also did not miss that Gaultier was displeased.
Tulley was at the board when Quinn arrived, and invited the arriving knight to join him with a gesture. “Your timing is superb. There is a boar stew this day and some of the wine of Annossy.” Tulley’s niece was seated by his left hand and smiled at Quinn but did not speak.
“In truth, sir, I come for tidings, not sustenance.”
“Tidings?” Tulley’s brows rose. “Of what?”
“I would know more of Gaultier, the Captain of the Guard at Annossy.”
Tulley blinked. “I know naught of him. The one before him, Millard, he I knew for many years.” He nodded, though Quinn did not know if his approval was of that knight or the wine poured into his cup.
He sipped the wine and nodded again. “A good man from the king’s own demesne in Paris, but a younger son.
Well-trained and well-bred, but lacking in coin and opportunity.
He served me for a decade then Annossy for another thirty.
A most excellent warrior. I deeply regretted his loss. ’Twas just over a year ago.”
“My lady wife told me that you sent her current Captain of the Guard to her, to replace the warrior who passed.”
“I did not!”
Quinn was taken aback. “Then from whence did he come?”
“How am I to say? She employs him. Try the meat, Heloise. It is most fine this day. This piece, not that one.”
“Aye, Uncle. I thank you.”
Quinn cleared his throat. “But she employs him because he came at your recommendation.”
“Well, she has erred in that, as women are like to do. I did not send him.” Tulley savored his stew with satisfaction. “You must join us. This is a fine meal.”
He waved to the chatelain, who set another place, while a squire took Quinn’s cloak. He was brought a bowl of water to wash his hands and his stomach grumbled as he took his place at Tulley’s right hand.
“What was his name?” Tulley asked when they were all eating.
“Gaultier.”
“Gaultier,” Tulley repeated, then shook his head. “Has he no holding of origin or town or family name?”
Quinn shook his head. “If so, I do not know it.”
“Lonvaux,” Heloise said and both men turned to look at her. She flushed a little. “His name is Gaultier de Lonvaux. I remember him.”
“Remember him?” Tulley repeated, his tone cross. “How could you remember him? And when did you see him?”
“Last year, in the autumn. It must have been just before he went to Annossy. He was here, at Tulley, lodged in the inn in the town.”
Quinn saw Tulley’s brows rise and was surprised that the older man had missed this detail.
Heloise continued. “I saw him when I arrived, for he stood outside the inn, on the road, as my party passed. He spoke to me.” She blushed a little.
“Audacity,” Tulley muttered.
“Nay, Uncle. We had met before my parents died. There was a notion that we might become betrothed, but I was glad that my father was much against it.”
“Why was he?” Tulley demanded.
“He said that Gaultier had no hope of inheritance, not since his aunt had wed again.”
“Marie,” Quinn said almost to himself, recalling the inscription on the blade in Melissande’s possession.
“Indeed!” Heloise agreed with pleasure. “Marie de Perricault is his aunt and her former husband trained Gaultier for his spurs. She was said to be fond of him and sponsored him even after her husband’s death. People said the most wicked things.” She shook her head and her expression turned prim.
“What wicked things?” Tulley asked.
“Uncle!”
“Tell me. We seek news of this man and even rumor may hold a germ of truth.”
Heloise blushed crimson. “That Marie would have wed him if he had not been her own kin. They said, they said, that their relations were most improper.” She looked disapproving after confessing this much.
Tulley sipped his wine, then nodded slowly.
“I remember this,” he said. “It was most scandalous, but I did not know the young man’s name.
” He snapped his fingers. “And then Marie did wed again, so the rumors fell silent. I suppose that might have been when Gaultier had to leave Perricault to find his fortune.” He nodded, well content with this version of events and returned to his meal.
“It is most fine, is it not? I tell the gamekeeper to take a boar whenever he can. It is by far the finest meat.”
“Where is Perricault?” Quinn asked for he did not know of it.
“To the north,” Tulley said. “En route to Paris. It lies on the other side of the mountains that mark the north side of this valley.” He lowered his voice. “Not quite so well favored by the sun and so less prosperous as a result, but still fine territory. They make a passable wine.”
Quinn leaned forward so that he could see Heloise. “Why were you glad that your father had objections to Gaultier, if I might be so bold as to ask?”
Tulley looked at his niece as if also interested in her reply.
She blushed again. “He was called Gaultier le Beau by some, because he was handsome to look upon. But I neither liked nor trusted him. There was something in his gaze that made me shiver.”
Quinn nodded understanding. “I do not like him either, my demoiselle, though I cannot say precisely why.”
“That is why you came to ask Uncle about him, for you knew that Uncle would not recommend a man who was untrustworthy.”
“Indeed,” Quinn agreed, though he was not so certain as that.
He was convinced only that Tulley would not make a choice that might adversely affect his own situation, which was not the same matter at all.
He frowned and cleared his throat. “My lord, my lady has mentioned that she was betrothed to another before our vows were exchanged...”
“Arnaud de Privas,” Tulley said with disdain. “Another wastrel, I am sad to say. She is well rid of him, to be sure.”
“But surely their betrothal has weight as an earlier bond...”
Tulley surveyed him, his gaze cool. “It would, if Arnaud had not wed another woman first.”
Quinn was startled. “Does my lady wife know of this?”
“I told her, but she chose to believe me mistaken.” Tulley sipped his wine and his lips tightened. “I am never mistaken about matters of such import.” He glared at Quinn and Quinn dropped his gaze.
Relief surged through him. His match was legitimate and he was sufficiently honest with himself to be glad. There was no legal impediment—the sole obstacles remained his lady wife’s affection and the conception of a child. These were not small obstacles, but Quinn found his heart lightened.
Tulley, meanwhile, shook a finger at him. “And I am reminded that I meant to speak to you about seeing Sayerne’s fields tilled this year. They have lain fallow too long and we have need of the grain...”
“But I am not to take the seal of Sayerne for another year,” Quinn felt obliged to note.
Tulley smiled. “Then you shall ensure the fields are tilled for me.”
Quinn cleared his throat, recalling Melissande’s practical questions, and strove to ask some of his own.
She did not wish to see Annossy pillaged for Sayerne’s sake, and he did not wish to see either plundered for Tulley’s sole benefit.
“If you are to claim the harvest, my lord, then who shall pay for the seed?”
Tulley harrumphed. “I could command that you do as much.”
“But that would scarcely be fair, my lord, and you are known for your justice. Surely you know that Sayerne no longer has any villeins to do the labor, either.” Quinn shook his head.
“I recall that the fields were fertile, but they have not been tilled in recent years. This is a considerable labor to undertake, particularly with no promise of gain.”
Tulley glared. Quinn held his gaze, ensuring that his own expression was bland. He was well aware that Heloise was endeavoring to hide her smile.
“I will send the seed,” Tulley said finally. “But the villeins must come from Annossy.”
“But where shall they live, my lord?” Quinn asked.
“It is too far for them to journey back and forth each day, unless they are to labor for no more than an hour.” He nodded.
“And I visited Sayerne just this week. You may not be aware that there is not a single structure of integrity there, save the old grain barn on the border where we spent that night. The hall is not bad, but the roof of the solar is damaged...”
“I know the state of Sayerne,” Tulley fairly growled.
“I cannot ask the villeins to abandon the comfort of their homes to labor without shelter. ’Twould be most irresponsible.”
Tulley’s lips tightened. “I will send men to help with the building, after the rain stops.” He pointed at Quinn. “But you shall see that all is defended.”
Quinn inclined his head. “They will need provisions, as well, for it will be months before the harvest. Although if you intend to claim it all, then they will still be hungry then. And there must be knights for the defense, who will also need shelter and provisions, as well as their steeds and squires.”
“You would have me pay to rebuild all of Sayerne!”
“I would not impoverish Annossy to rebuild Sayerne, particularly when I do not hold the seal of Sayerne.”
Their gazes locked for a potent moment and Quinn did not dare to take a breath. He was aware of Heloise’s keen interest and Tulley’s vexation, but did not blink.