Chapter Seventeen #4
He smiled, giving her a squeeze as they walked. “Your defense of me is flattering.”
“You are my husband and a fine example of man. I will kill anyone who says otherwise.”
He was genuinely touched. “There are many who do.”
She looked up at him, her anger gaining speed again. “Who are they?” she demanded. “Tell me right now.”
He laughed softly. “Well,” he pretended to be thoughtful, “there is the King of France, the Lords of Navarre, the entire population of the Aquitaine, and….”
She cut him off, understanding that he was jesting with her. He was trying to calm her down and she appreciated his gentle, humorous manner. As Sabine and Daphne’s carriage tore off for the gatehouse, Ellowyn realized just how irate she had been. She eyed Brandt, trying not to look too ashamed.
“I understand,” she said, fighting off a contrite grin. “Everyone in France hates you. Well, you must start a list, then, so I know who it is I must defend you against. According to you and to my father, it might take a very long time for me to work my way through the ranks of haters.”
He smiled, his dark eyes twinkling. “It would take you more than one lifetime, for certain,” he said, pleased she was calming. “You are very gracious to want to defend me. I have never had anyone defend me before.”
She gave up the fight altogether and collapsed against him, her arms around his waist. “I would kill for you,” she said. “And if that foolish sow ever comes back here again, she will be very sorry.”
He laughed low in his throat, hugging her. “Aye, she will,” he replied, kissing the top of her head. “Return to the keep now and I shall join you in a short while for the nooning meal.”
She nodded and let him go. “It would seem that I slept overlong this morning. I do not normally do that.”
He eyed her. “You do not seem to sleep very well.”
She shrugged, averting her gaze. “Sometimes I do not.”
“More dreams?”
Her head shot up, looking at him. “How would you know that?”
“Because you mutter in your sleep.”
She averted her gaze again, thinking on the murky, terrible dream she had been having for some time now.
It wasn’t every night but it did come to her every few days, pieces of this same dream like chapters of a book.
The dream exhausted her. She always woke up feeling heartsick and weary. She didn’t want to talk about it.
“Sometimes I dream,” she said evasively, changing the subject. “Brandt, do you suppose we could go into town today? There are a few things I would like to buy.”
He gave a reluctant nod. “I suppose,” he said, well aware she was shifting the focus away from her poor sleeping habits. “What do you need to buy?”
“Thread, if I can find it,” she said. “I have put a hole in one of my new stockings and must repair it.”
“I can have the smithy make you a spinning wheel and we could provide you with all of the wool you need for thread,” he said.
She shook her head. “I was never any good at spinning,” she told him. “My mother and I would buy our thread from a merchant in Milnthorpe. In fact, I could use a great many sewing items.”
Again, he nodded. “If that is your wish.”
“Can we go today?”
He shrugged. “That depends,” he replied. “Dylan told me that St. Hèver is approaching. The man sent scouts ahead to announce his arrival with six hundred of his father’s men. I should like to be here when they arrive.”
Ellowyn smiled. “Brennan is arriving?” she repeated. “I am glad to hear he has made a safe journey. He is a nice man.”
Brandt was surprised by the stab of jealousy he felt at her innocent statement.
He knew it was innocent. From what he knew of his wife, she didn’t think covertly and she had never shown anything other than polite regard for his knights.
She had spoken to St. Hèver more than most, more than likely because she felt a connection with him after he had saved her life.
It never bothered Brandt until this moment.
Her positive assessment of Brennan had him fighting off an unexpected surge of jealousy.
“Then you will understand when I say I want to be here when he arrives,” he said, trying to keep his manner even. “However, if you can promise me that our trip to town will not take more than an hour, I believe I can take you now.”
Ellowyn nodded eagerly. “Let me gather my things and I shall be ready to go.”
On tiptoes, she pecked him on the cheek and ran off towards the mighty motte with the keep perched on top.
Brandt watched her go, still feeling the kiss to his cheek and the warm adoration that brought about.
But he was also still fighting off the last pricks of jealously and forced himself to shift focus, ordering the nearest sergeant to bring forth chargers and a palfrey for his wife.
Whatever hateful envy he was feeling, it was unexpected and unnecessary.
He had no reason to feel so. But as a man untried in the realm of romance, his control when it came to his feelings wasn’t as practiced as it should have been.
Unfortunately, his jealously was going to make an ugly return.