Val paused at the top of the stairs. “Horsham,” he said. “We were fortunate to capture our fugitive in Whitehill so we took the man to Lord Horsham. It is a long ride there and back.”
Margaretha eyed her son, disapproval in her expression. “I see,” she said. “While you have been rushing about all over Hampshire saving the world from cutthroats, a man and his daughter showed up on our doorstep demanding food and lodgings. He says he is a friend of yours.”
Val began to loosen his gloves. “Did he give his name?”
“McCloud d’Avignon.”
Val eyed her. “He is, indeed, an old friend of mine,” he said. “I saw him in Whitehill and invited him to sup. You were not rude to him, were you?”
Margaretha scowled. “Of course not,” she snapped. “I did not question him, although I wanted to. The man wears rags and appears destitute. Are you certain he is a friend of yours?”
Val sighed. “Not all friends come with coffers of gold,” he said. “D’Avignon comes from a very old family that lives somewhere to the south. Down by Southampton, I think.”
Margaretha didn’t appear convinced. “Why have I not heard of this friend until now?”
Val simply pushed past her. “Because I cannot tell you of every single friend I have ever had,” he said. “I knew many men in France, men I have not told you of. But rest assured, McCloud d’Avignon is my friend. I intend to sup with him tonight to become reacquainted with the man and I would like for you to be polite to him.”
Margaretha followed him into the keep. “I have been. I am the model of decorum.”
Val wasn’t entirely sure of that. His mother came across like a shrew most of the time, so he was hoping McCloud and his daughter hadn’t been offended by her manner. But to say something about it would only bring about an argument, so hekept his mouth shut. He pulled off one of his gloves, heading for the spiral stairs that were built into the thickness of the wall.
“Where did you put McCloud and his daughter?” he asked.
Margaretha pointed up. “On the top level,” she said. “The Priest’s Chamber and the Constable’s Chamber.”
Those were designations that, one hundred years ago, were rooms that had once actually housed the castle priest and the castle constable. Selborne no longer had a resident priest or a need for a constable, so these days they were chambers meant for guests but were still referred to by their formal designations. Val began to mount the steps.
“Are we supping in the great hall tonight?”
“We are.”
“Then I shall return to my chamber, strip myself of my weapons, and escort McCloud’s daughter to the great hall,” he said. “You will escort McCloud. It will give you time to amend your opinion of him.”
That was proper etiquette with guests but Margaretha wasn’t thrilled about it. She didn’t want to amend her opinion about anyone. She began to follow her son up the stairs.
“They can only stay the night, Valor,” she said sternly. “I do not like your friend’s manners. You should see the way he looked over Selborne when he arrived.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that he looked it over most greedily. And he commented on it.”
“What did he say?”
“He said you must have done very well for yourself.”
“Well, Ihave.”
Margaretha wasn’t finished. “It was thewayhe said it,” she stressed. “Almost… envious. He even asked if you had married.”
“There is no crime in that.”
“Nay, there is no crime in that question, but it seemed to me that it was a rather bold question to ask. Furthermore, do you know they arrived on foot? They did not even have a horse between them.”
They had reached the floor above and Val came to a pause. “On foot?” he said, surprised. “When I saw them in Whitehill, it was near the livery. I assumed they had horses in the livery.”
“Nary a one.”
Val thought that was strange but not overly so. He didn’t give it much thought, truthfully. He was simply looking forward to the coming meal and conversation, and that was all that occupied his thoughts at the moment.
