“One of us had to make a concession, if we were to establish a truce.”He raised a hand, humor in his expression.“I wagered it would have to be me.”He watched her, waiting.
Melissande nodded.“I think our truce is made.I am sorry again, Quinn, sorry that I have been too stubborn to appreciate your merit.I am sorry that I did not tell you of the second entry to the solar.”
“But you feared you might have to defend the prize of Annossy against me.”He eyed her.“Do you still?”
Melissande shook her head with vigor.“Nay, Quinn.Nay.”
He crossed the chamber with undisguised satisfaction and folded her into his embrace once more.Melissande felt then that he was shaking as well and closed her eyes at the steady sound of his heart.She wanted to be no other place in the world, and smiled when she felt his kiss against the top of her head.
It would steady him to tell her what he had done, so she asked.“What of the mill?Was it attacked?”
“Aye, but we surprised them.The brigands have been escorted to Annossy’s dungeon and I shall have the pleasure of seeing them again when first we hold court together.”
“Three days after next full moon is too soon,” Melissande said with heat.“Leave them wait until after the next one.”
Quinn chuckled, his breath in her hair and his arms tightly wrapped around her.“We think alike in this matter, my lady.”
She tipped back her head and found him smiling at her, that glint of lazy intent in his amber gaze.“We do,” she agreed.“I feared I would not have the chance to tell you that I love you, my lord husband.”She watched his brows rise and relief light his eyes.
“Surely you might call me by my name when you make such a declaration,” he teased and Melissande smiled.
She reached up and framed his face in her hands.“I love you, Quinn de Sayerne.I am sorry that I did not see sooner how well matched we are.”She shook his tabard a little.“Now, do what you must and do it quickly.I would have you come to bed that I might prove my love to you.”
Melissande saw Quinn’s eyes flash before he bent and captured her lips with his own, claiming her with another of his seductive and potent kisses.This time, however, she met him touch for touch, surrendering her all to him willingly.
She was well pleased when he groaned and lifted her against him, his kiss tasting of relief and a passion that answered her own.
It was not done.
Quinn felt as much in his bones, but he pretended that the death of Gaultier and the arrest of the brigands saw all questions resolved at Annossy.To his dismay, he discovered that Melissande’s confession of love did not set his final doubts to rest.Instead, he wondered if she strove to falsely win his confidence.How he hated his suspicions!But her confession had been timely, and she had not been the one to tell him of the way to enter the keep from the side opposite the gates.She also had not been able to recall the location of the path to Perricault, or so she insisted.As much as he wanted to believe her, Quinn feared he would regret granting his trust.
There had been one brigand who had escaped at the mill.
It was not done.
But in the meantime, Quinn and Melissande labored together so amiably that he wished their marriage had been made of their own choice, for then he could have trusted his wife.She taught him of ledgers and of Annossy’s courts.He learned of measures and makers, while he taught her about arms and defense.At night, each night, they met abed in mutual pleasure.His men worked upon strengthening the defenses of Annossy and he came to better know the villagers.
By May, the execution of the brigands was a memory of another time.The coin he had placed in the miller’s second treasury had not appeared.None of the caught brigands had it, and indeed, there was a discrepancy between the hoard in their possession and the miller’s inventory.Quinn made light of it, but he wondered at the identity of that escaped rider.When he rode to hunt, he sought a path to Perricault through the mountains.
There were only two reasons in his estimation that Melissande would not have told him of it: either she truly did not know, or she was complicit with whoever used that path.
He knew which answer he preferred.
If it had not been for that detail, Quinn might have always been Lord d’Annossy, for he seemed to have been accepted by all.There was a goodly company of villeins wishing to accompany him to Sayerne to till the fields, more than enough to see the work done.Most of them had come from Sayerne, fleeing his own father’s abuse, and wished to rebuild the homes they had known.He was honored that they trusted him to govern them fairly—and truly, he had learned so much from Melissande about such matters that he had more confidence in his own ability to do so.
Something had gone awry between Bayard and Berthe, for it seemed that Niall was the one most often talking to the maid, while Bayard glowered at the pair from the board.Perhaps Bayard had chosen not to court Berthe.Perhaps she had spurned him.Quinn felt he had said more than enough.
His fellows had begun to watch for Rolfe, for none of them could imagine that he would miss the promised meeting.There was much jesting about Rolfe with a bride, and considerable curiosity about that lady’s appearance and nature.His comrades made plans to continue north after the reunion, making their own progress home, and Quinn knew he would miss their companionship.He had offered them all employ, if they chose to stay, but thus far, only Bayard had indicated that he might do as much.
Three months to the day after his marriage to Melissande, Quinn awaited his lady wife in the bailey.He held the reins of her palfrey and as ever, his heart leapt at the sight of her as she appeared in the hall.She was more than a beauty.She was clever and just, protective of those beneath her hand and a competent administrator.Her passion had been awakened by their marriage and he thought that she was a little quicker to reveal her feelings to others than she had been.
She smiled at him as she reached his side.“I thank you for your patience, sir,” she murmured.“And apologize for the delay.”
“You know I would have waited until noon,” he said gallantly and her smile broadened.
“Even though you wished to leave at dawn.”
He lifted her into the saddle and she bent to whisper in his ear.“It is the child,” she admitted softly.“I am ill in the mornings, because of the child.”
