Yves tapped his toe. “Perhaps the Lord de Tulley should be consulted about this match,” he mused. “I would not want to offend him by taking the matter into my ownhands.”
Since their father’s demise, Yves had shown a decisive side that Annelise had barely glimpsed before. She did not really care for this aspect of her half-brother, for it reminded her of her father’sdetermination.
Annelise was forced to acknowledge that she truly did not know Yves that well. She had returned to Sayerne from the convent only a year before Jerome’s death, afterall.
“Nonsense!” Bertrand dismissed Yves’ comment. “Tulley has too much on his board these days to trifle with the match of a noblewoman without a dowry. You must make a match where you can and see the matter resolved withhaste.”
Annelise felt her color rise at being discussed like some baggage to be forced onanother.
“But who is this Hildegarde?” Yves asked, only the first of many questions Annelisehad.
“Hildegarde de Viandin, an old family friend. Her husband, Millard, and I trained together. Sadly, Millard passed away some yearsago.”
Annelise licked a thread and fed the floss through the eye of the needle.A lady should hold her tongue.She repeated the nuns’ admonition to herselfsilently.
Bertrand cleared his throat. “She wrote last summer to ask whether I knew of a suitable young woman to marry her second son. The eldest, of course, is the heir, but Hildegarde might be persuaded to ensure that the younger son be granted a smallholding.”
Yves said nothing, and Bertrand continued. “Annelise cannot expect to do much better, you know, given her lack of dowry. And everyone knows about the curse of her forthright manner.” He fired a glance at Annelise that kept her from protesting theaccusation.
The nuns would have been proud of her, she thought, and jabbed the needle into thelinen.
“The timing is most opportune, Yves, and the family is a good one. Their holdings are prosperous, and your sister would have a most satisfactorylife.”
Annelise could keep silent no longer. “Satisfactory by whosestandards?”
Bertrand visibly gritted his teeth. “It is a curse,” he muttered, and Yves’ lipstightened.
“It is not a curse to know one’s own mind,” Annelise argued, ensuring her tone was polite. “I fail to see how my opinion could not be relevant. You are discussing my future and marriage to a man with whom I would be destined to spend the rest of mylife.”
“Annelise, can you be silent for once?” Yves said impatiently. “You know that this decision is not yours tomake.”
“I do not likeit.”
“It does not matter what you like,” Yves retorted in a sharp tone he had never used with her before. “A sensible choice must be made and I will makeit.”
“You might askme...”
“I know what you will say. You are not in love with any man, so far as I know, so you would remain unwed,” Yves replied. He flung out a hand. “Where will you go, a maiden with nodowry?”
“I thought I would stay withyou.”
“You werewrong.”
Annelise’s conviction that Yves would do his best for herfaltered.
Yves paced across the wooden floor in the shadows beyond Bertrand, his hands clasped behind his back, his bright blond hair catching the light. His expressive amber eyes, so like her own, were hidden from view, and Annelise felt that her brother had become astranger.
He straightened, and before the words even fell from his mouth, Annelise saw that Yves meant to agree with Bertrand. She tossed the needlework aside, hating Yves for betraying her treasuredhopes.
How dare he cast her desire aside for his ownconvenience?
Before she could utter a word, though, there was a knock on thedoor.
“Lord Enguerrand de Roussineau to see his lordship,” Bertrand’s manservantannounced.
Bertrand winced, then composed his expression and beckoned with one stately finger. His wife set aside her embroidery and scurried to call for refreshment. Annelise watched as a young man of whom she had heard much—and little of it complimentary—swept into Bertrand’schamber.
Enguerrand was dark-haired, and more lavishly dressed than Annelise would have expected he could afford. There was a dusting of snow across the heavy green cloak tossed over his shoulders, and more snow on his boots. He brought a whiff of the night into the chamber and she guessed that he had just arrived. His gaze flitted over the room and she knew she did not imagine that his eyes gleamed when he spottedher.
