“He has no manners, uncle,” Rosamund remarked, ignoring the boy now. “Do you not beat him? Obviously not.” She sat down by the hall fire, indicating that her uncle should do the same.
Taken aback by his niece’s attitude, Henry Bolton sat heavily. “He is high-spirited, that is all,” he excused his son. “He will grow into a fine man one day. You shall see.”
“Perhaps I shall,” Rosamund replied. “Now, uncle, what brings you to Friarsgate? It has been many years since we have seen you.”
“Can I not pay you a visit, Rosamund, after all this time, and bring young Henry to meet his future wife?” the older man protested.
“You do nothing, uncle, without a reason. That I learned quite young. You have not been here in several years because you trusted Hugh to manage everything for you. Now you have learned that my husband is ill, and so you have come, posthaste, bringing this ill-mannered brat of yours with you, to see for yourself the truth of the situation,” she said harshly.
“I think it is you who needs a beating, Rosamund,” Henry Bolton snarled. “How do you dare to speak to me like that? I am your guardian!”
“You relinquished your guardianship when you gave me to my husband,uncle,” she snapped back.
“And when he is dead you will be in my keeping once again,” Henry Bolton threatened. “You had best mend your ways, niece. Now, I have brought the betrothal papers with me, and you will sign them. They shall be dated at the appropriate time,but you will sign them today.I will have no one stealing you and Friarsgate out from beneath my nose after I have been so patient.”
“I shall sign nothing without my husband’s permission,” Rosamund said. “If you try to force me I shall complain to the church. They will not approve of your high-handed tactics, uncle. I am no longer a frightened and malleable child who can be coerced by threats. Ah, here is our wine. Drink up, uncle. You are looking positively apoplectic.” She tilted her own goblet to her lips and drank delicately.
For a moment all was red before Henry Bolton’s eyes. Taking his niece’s advice he gulped down his wine, trying to calm his thoughts and the pounding pulses in his temples. The girl who sat so self-assuredly before him was more than pretty. And had not the old Countess of Richmond given birth to King Henry VII at thirteen? His niece was no longer a child. She was practically a woman, and a strong-willed woman at that. How in the hell had this all happened in just six years? Henry Bolton’s chest felt suddenly tight. He struggled to master himself. The amber-eyed bitch sitting across from him viewed him gravely.
“Are you all right, uncle?” she asked him solicitously.
“I want to see Hugh,” he demanded of her.
“Of course, but you will have to wait until he is awake. While his mind is perfectly clear, my husband is no longer strong. He sleeps much. I will have him told of your arrival when he awakens, uncle.” Rosamund arose. “Remain here, and warm yourself by the fire,” she advised. “I will have more wine brought.” She smoothed her blue skirts down with her long fingers. “I must leave you.”
“Where are you going?” Henry Bolton almost croaked.
“I have my work, uncle.” She turned away.
“What work?”he demanded of her.
“It is spring, uncle, and there is much to be done in the spring. I must tot up the monthly accounts and arrange a schedule for the plowing, and see how much seed I will need to distribute for the planting. We have had more lambs born this winter than we could have possibly anticipated. A new meadow must be cleared and planted to contain the increased flock. I am not some fine lady who can remain by the fire to entertain you.”
“Why are you doing these things?” he challenged her.
“Because I am mistress of Friarsgate, uncle,” she answered him. “Surely you didn’t expect I should grow up only to weave at my loom, or make conserves and soap.”
“Those are women’s pursuits, dammit!” Henry Bolton shouted. “Of course those are the very things that you should be doing. You should leave the stewarding of Friarsgate to the men!” His face was growing very crimson once again.
“Fiddlesticks!” Rosamund answered him pertly. “But if it will soothe your mind, uncle, I can also do all those things as well. Friarsgate, however, is mine. It is my responsibility to care for its welfare, and the welfare of my people, as any good chatelaine would do. I dislike being useless and idle.”
“I want to speak with Hugh!” Henry Bolton practically yelled.
“And so you shall, uncle,in due time.” Then she turned about and left the hall. Behind her she could hear Henry Bolton sputtering his protests, and then she heard his son.
“I don’t like her, father. I want another wife.”
“Shut your mouth!”Henry Bolton shouted savagely at his heir.
Rosamund grinned as she hurried off to seek her husband, who was indeed resting in his chamber. Catching hold of a passing serving wench she instructed the girl, “Find Edmund Bolton, but send him to the lord’s chamber and not to the hall where my uncle waits.”
The servant nodded her understanding and dashed away.
Hugh Cabot was sitting up in his bed when she entered his room. He had grown thinner and was very frail, but his bright blue eyes still danced with an interest in everyone and everything. “I hear we have a visitor,” he said with a small smile.
Rosamund laughed. “I vow, my lord, that you know everything before I do.” She went and sat on the edge of her husband’s bed. “What we have, Hugh, is a spy among our people. I have told Edmund to find out who it is. Aye, we have not one visitor, but two. He has brought me mynext husband.”
“And do you favor the lad, Rosamund?” Hugh teased her, a wicked smile lighting his narrow lips.
