This palfrey nuzzled her hair and Annelise wiped her tears. She had been right in that, at least. She could not believe that either of those suitors would have made her first mating as pleasing as her husband had. They had been men with their own objectives—or their mother’s—who cared nothing forher.
Whereas the husband that Annelise had gained by fate was one who desired her forherself.
She was not solely responsible, after all. If nothing else, Yves and Bertrand had played a part in what had happened. Either could have listened to her. Yves had admitted as muchhimself.
In future, though, she would try to discuss mattersopenly.
Annelise scratched the palfrey’s nose and peeked into the other stall. The largest destrier she had ever seen occupied it, his coat blacker than midnight. He flicked an expressive glance her way and stamped ahoof.
“Well, hello to you, sir,” she said, giving him a pat, aswell.
Her husband had admitted to being a knight, and here was theevidence.
The stallion’s ears flicked and he nosed the contents of his feed box impatiently. It was not empty, Annelise noticed. He could not be hungry, although she wondered if he might be bored. He snorted and scattered oats about the stall, then glanced back atAnnelise.
He was probably used to activity. As though to reinforce her thought, the destrier stamped his feetrestlessly.
Annelise folded her arms across the top of the rail and dropped her chin on them. She watched the horse toss his head. “You seem to need a run. Does my husband not ride you daily? My father oft said that a good steed should be riddenfrequently.”
The beast nickered and tossed his head as though approving of the notion. Memory sobered Annelise and she stepped back from thestall.
“Before you decide that my father was a wise man, you should know that he applied the same axiom to women. Whether they were good or bad was not a consideration forhim.”
She frowned at the straw on the floor, determined not to recall another troubling incident so quickly. Still, she had broken her own pledge to wed only for love. Her husband could not love her, but he had been kind to her. Would that last? Would it be sufficient to spare her the fate of her ownmother?
Annelise did not know and she would not find out by standing in the stable allday.
She looked about herself with curiosity. What else could she learn about her husband from the stable? The horses were well-tended, a sign of the same generosity and kindness he showed to her. The stable was neat and the stalls had been swept out, even though there was not a soul to be seen. The destrier’s trap was hung along the opposite side of the stable, and her gaze danced over the familiargear.
She refused to think aboutYves.
If this was her husband’s horse and his equipment, she reasoned, certainly there was nothing about the saddle to indicate any deformity. The stirrups were hung at precisely the samelength.
A glint caught her eye and she ventured deeper into the stables. A knight’s mail was carefully stored there. It was in excellent repair and polished to a gleam. Annelise squinted at it, trying to envision the height of the man to whom it had beenfitted.
It could readily belong to her spouse. He was, after all, lord of the keep, and this mail was finely wrought. It was the armor of a knight andnobleman.
Annelise knew that there were not two noblemen inhabiting thisplace.
Feeling as though she was prying, but continuing nonetheless, she examined the mail. There were a few nicks and scratches, as one might expect from equipment used in battle. On one shoulder it looked to have been repaired with newerrings.
But its silhouette was that of a perfectly normalman.
Remembering her theory that he might have a scarred but previously handsome face, Annelise examined his helmet. It was without blemish beyond the usual scratches and minor dents. There was evidence of nothing that could have granted him a majordisfigurement.
Was it possible that there was nothing amiss with herspouse?
Why would he hide his identity fromher?
Annelise drummed her fingers on his helmet. The nuns had taught her that every riddle had a key, and she knew she could solve this one. Her husband could be a villain, an outlaw wanted for some heinous crime. That would explain his reluctance to reveal himself until after the match wasconsummated.
No. Annelise shook her head firmly. The man who had treated her so kindly could not have a blackheart.
Could he be married already? Snared in a loveless match? Annelise considered that possibility for a long moment even though she disliked it intensely. It would mean that he had tricked her—but why? No man had need of twowives.
Unless his wife was barren and he was without a son andheir.
Annelise bit her lip. But then, where was this barren bride? Surely she would be resident at his home? Annelise knew she was alone in thispalace.
