Quinn blinked, astonished.
Melissande laughed, clearly pleased with his response.
“When?”he whispered to her, well aware that the company awaited them.
“Who can say?It has only just begun.I suspect the babe will arrive in January, well within Tulley’s dictate of a year from our nuptials.”
Sayerne would be his, if the child was a boy.
Quinn went to his own steed in a daze, realizing that he did not care as much as once he had about claiming the seal of Sayerne.He hoped that Tulley would surrender it to him in time, but his concern was for the welfare of Melissande and the health of the child, regardless of its gender.Was there a midwife in Annossy?There must be, and he must ensure her skill.He might wish to send to Tulley for one of greater experience.
They rode out as he marveled at these tidings, the company trailing behind them in a long ribbon.Quinn rode at the front, Michel carrying his standard before him, Melissande on his left.His comrades, Thierry and Bayard, rode behind them and on either side.Amaury and Luc remained at Annossy to ensure its defense in his absence.There, the villeins had begun to tend the vines, pruning away winter’s damage.There were wagons aplenty in the party, burdened with palettes and linens, food and crockery for Quinn’s stay at Sayerne.Louis accompanied them, as did George’s apprentice and two serving maids from the kitchen, as did Berthe.
The villeins who had chosen to move followed the supplies, with their carts and children and horses.In many cases, they brought all their possessions.Lothair and Niall rode at the vanguard of the party with their squires.The party was filled with an optimism for the future, one that was fed by the bright sunlight and the greening of the meadows.
They would reach Sayerne by noon and then the work would begin.
A child!
Truly all goodness came to Quinn’s hand.He smiled at Melissande and she smiled back at him, her eyes alight.He dared to wish that trust would blossom fully between them.
And soon.
Arnaud de Privaswatched the procession leave Annossy’s gates.Although he stayed under the shadow of trees that he might not be spied, he could still identify Melissande’s figure.
His gaze lingered upon the man by her side.A champion and a knight, a crusader and her legal husband, as dictated by Lord de Tulley.Quinn de Sayerne was the obstacle to Arnaud gaining all that he desired—he had also dispatched Gaultier.Arnaud hoped that Marie’s nephew had been loyal to the last and held his tongue.
It was unfortunate to have lost such an ally within the very walls of Annossy, but Arnaud had no doubt of his own success.Within days, his plans would come to culmination.He smiled in anticipation of delivering the death blow to Quinn himself.They would have to hunt to feed this company at the wasteland that was Sayerne, and accidents at hunt were so easily arranged.
Indeed, Arnaud had an affection for the hunt.This time, however, he would hunt neither boar nor stag.He would hunt the Lord d’Annossy himself but no one would ever convict him.He had done as much before, having dispatched the Lord de Perricault, and he would do it again.
It was so simple.
Arnaud was already Lord de Perricault and would be a widower before the day was out.He would wed Melissande after Quinn’s demise, become Lord both of Annossy and Sayerne, and Tulley would be obliged to return Privas to his hand.Melissande could administer them for him, for she was skilled with such details—unlike Marie, who had proven to be only a demanding expense—and he could do whatsoever he chose for all the rest of his days and nights.
Perfect.
Or it would be, once Quinn was dead.
Arnaud could not wait.
Sayerne.
Melissande had not visited the holding ever in her recollection and she was uncertain of Quinn’s ultimate plan.Did he mean to make his court at Annossy or Sayerne?Or had he not decided as yet?He had been vague when she asked, but perhaps he wished to assess his father’s holding with a clear eye.
She could be of aid in that.
Melissande studied the holding as they rode closer, striving to see its merits instead of the taint of its history.Tulley wished the fields to be tilled and she could see by the furrows that the fields were extensive.The soil was dark and she eyed the angle of the sun.
“Well?”Quinn asked, evidently having taken note of her survey.
“It seems that the fields must enjoy many of the same advantages as those of Annossy,” she said.“The crops will be in bright sunlight all the day long, and the soil is so dark that it must be most fertile.”She nodded.“And most of it has lain fallow.You could till as much of it as you desire this year.”
“As much of it as can be tilled,” he agreed.“I spoke with one of the older villeins and he suggested a plan which was used with success in the past.There was a scheme as to which third was left fallow each year and I would follow with tradition.”He gestured to the north.“He said the oats did best in those fields.”
“Tradition oft is a good place to begin,” she said.
“And he said the barley did best to the south.”
