“No.” Hildegarde cleared her throat and looked away. She watched the posey as she tapped it against the side of the stall. “Viandin runs as ceaselessly as always itdoes.”
Rolfe watched her as he waited,puzzled.
She glanced up at him, dismay gleaming in her eyes. “Last fall, Adalbert took theague.”
“But he isrecovered?”
To his dismay, his mother shook her head. “He is dead,Rolfe.”
Adalbert dead. It was impossible to believe. Rolfe swore softly and stepped away. The homecoming he had anticipated would not occur. Adalbert would not stalk out to the bailey, complaining all the while about his lot. They would not shake hands, as they always did when Rolfe returned home. They would not look into each other’s eyes for a silent moment and see the admiration each had for theother.
Adalbert would not wink. He always turned away after that wink, bellowing for the ostler and the cook, complaining heartily about the trouble caused by those who arrive unexpectedly at thegates.
He would not have the opportunity to plague Rolfe with questions. Rolfe realized how much he had been looking forward to sharing his adventures with his older brother. Usually, they talked so much that their meal became stone-cold before they had taken more than abite.
It was unthinkable that Adalbert was not atViandin.
Rolfe cleared his throat and his words were husky. “He did notsuffer?”
“It was quick,” his mother admitted. “Too quick in one way and too arduous inanother.”
Rolfe’s shoulders sagged in relief, but his mother was not finished. She laid a hand upon his arm. “I have not the will or the strength to administer Viandin, Rolfe, though I have endeavored to do my best in your absence.” Her voice was low with concern. “I hope you will not be disappointed in my efforts when you take the reins of theestate.”
Take the reins? Rolfe turned to look at his mother for amoment.
She smiled at him. “You are heir, Rolfe,” she said. “Viandin isyours.”
All the breath left Rolfe’s lungs. He was no longer a landless younger son, but Lord deViandin.
He had something to offerAnnelise.
His mother frowned as she continued. “I must apologize, though, for despite my finest efforts, I was unable to procure a bride foryou.”
“I told you, Mother, that I had met a maiden. She loves me and I loveher...”
“Whimsy!” his mother said. “Even Bertrand tried, without success, to convince a local noblewoman, name of Annelise de Sayerne, to take your hand. I fear that young women are less enamored of matches made without a meeting these days, though I do not know why they should imagine themselves above such sensible solutions.” She patted Rolfe on the cheek even as he marveled at her words. “Perhaps the ladies have need of a taste of your owncharm.”
Rolfe’s lips twitched at her confession. They had tried to match him with Annelise? He was the other suitor she had deemed unfitting? It was the threat of wedding him that had driven her to the convent...and hence tohim?
The coincidence could only make him laughaloud.
“Rolfe!” His mother frowned at him. “I should hardly think the matter amusing. Despite the insult that witch Rosalinde granted you, you will have to consider marriage, whether you have the inclination or not. It is part of your responsibility to Viandin to ensure the bloodline continues....” She suddenly fell silent and glared at Rolfe’s hand. “Where is your ring? Surely, you did not lose the token I granted you?” She caught her breath and took a step back. “Surely, you did not sellit?”
“No, Mother,” Rolfe said with a smile. “It was used to seal the vows between my wife andI.”
“Wife?”
“The maiden I spokeof.”
His mother exhaled in a hiss. “You married? Without consultation? Without any consideration of her lineage orsuitability...”
Rolfe silenced his mother with a touch. “The lady’s name is Annelise deSayerne.”
Hildegarde’s eyes widened, then a reluctant smile curved her lips. “Well, does that not take all?” she murmured. “I always knew you had the devil’s own charm. Evidently, you have his luck, as well.” She tweaked Rolfe’s ear and he abandoned his brush, beckoning for the ostler to finish thetask.
“Come, Mother. There is someone I would like you tomeet.”
“I should think so,” his mother retorted. “A wife. And without telling me first.” Her manner was indignant, but the sparkle of delight in her eyes revealed her true feelings. “At least she has the wit to love you. That shows her goodsense.”
