“Aye, my lady,” Bayard said with approval.
“Then I grant you leave to deliver them and thank you for the courtesy of bearing me tidings.”It took all within Melissande not to ask more questions of Quinn’s plans, but she reminded herself that the defense of the holding was the lord’s responsibility.
Bayard bowed and retreated, the men behind him.Gaultier gave her an intent look, which she ignored, then spun to follow the three of them with quick steps.
“Audacity,” Berthe whispered though Melissande did not know whether she meant Bayard’s message to her or his refusal to acknowledge her presence.She was staring after the men, bright spots of color burning in her cheeks, and her fists were clenched at her sides.
Perhaps Melissande did know what infuriated her maid.
“Do you remember where I left my embroidery needles?”she asked pointedly.“This hem should be mended before my lord’s return.”
Berthe spun away, then stamped up the stairs.Her passage was audible the entire way to the solar and back again, though her temper might have been slightly improved by her return.
“A lantern, if you please,” Melissande said quietly when the maid might have said more.The hall was falling dark as it always did after noon, for the rays of the afternoon sun did not come through the few windows.Berthe hastened to fetch a lantern and had the boys stir up the fire as Melissande settled to her mending.
Quinn had replaced the men assigned by Gaultier with his own comrades.That was just as Gaultier had predicted.He might simply intend to push her aside and take her place in the administration of Annossy.That would be sufficiently harsh to trouble Melissande.She frowned and wondered what course she could possibly take that would both fulfill her obligations as her father’s daughter and Quinn’s wife.
All paths led back to the conception of a child.
But what would she sacrifice herself if she surrendered repeatedly to Quinn’s touch?She had no desire to become an ornament or a brood mare or wanton who hungered for her husband’s attention abed.She scowled at the cloth and worked fiercely, stabbing her finger more than once due to her lack of expertise.
If this was to be her life, she had best become accustomed to it.
She did not, however, have to like it.
The shadows were longerwhen there was a roar of greeting in the bailey and the sound of horses once more.Melissande rose to her feet and smoothed her skirt, her heart skipping at the sound of Quinn’s voice.He laughed aloud and she found her lips curving, so complete was the spell he had cast upon her.
Intrigued by what might make her husband so merry, she left the board and went to the portal.Her breath caught at the sight of Quinn, his eyes flashing gold fire as he laughed.He had a deer slung over the back of his saddle, while Amaury had two bunches of pheasants bound to his.Both destriers’ nostrils were flaring, but the creatures held their ground, more accustomed to the scent of blood than was often the case with horses.Louis was clapping his hands, calling for boys from the kitchen to take the kill, and it was clear that Quinn had secured his popularity with this deed.Someone jested at the size of the stag he had felled and Quinn turned to help remove it from behind the saddle.
He looked so vital and masculine, so at ease and powerful, that Melissande could not tear her gaze away from him.Indeed, her mouth went dry and she tingled anew in recollection of what they had done abed.She had become hungry for his touch and, worse, she could not regret it.
Amaury held up a hand.“I confess that I but followed behind and gathered the kill,” he said to those who gathered around.“’Twas Quinn who hunted with such success this day.”
“He is too modest,” Quinn protested, then surrendered a crossbow to his companion.“His aim is true as might be expected of one carrying such a fine weapon.”There was a joyous shout at that and Quinn shook hands with those who pushed close to congratulate him.He laughed at a word from the smith, then asked that man a question.The smith indicated the miller’s son on the far side of the bailey, the one who had become his apprentice, and she guessed that Quinn had spoken to the miller about his family.
Then he turned, as if he had felt her gaze upon him.
Melissande might have been struck to stone as his gaze locked with hers.Then Quinn smiled, a slow potent smile that heated her blood to a simmer, and she felt as if they were alone in the bailey.
“What else could I do?”he asked those surrounding him without looking away.“My lady wife told me this morn that we had need of meat for the board.Her will is as my command.”And he bowed to her, his gesture making her cheeks heat and the villeins laugh.
Melissande could not think of a single word to say.
Quinn strode to her side, doffing his gloves, and paused beside her on the threshold.His eyes glittered and she fairly sensed his anticipation.“All is well at the mill?”she asked quietly, recalling their responsibilities.
“I believe it will be,” he replied in kind.
“You dismissed the guards that Gaultier assigned to defend the mill.”
“I did not trust them.”
Melissande parted her lips then closed them again.
Quinn smiled.“And you do not trust me.You need not say the words to make your concerns known to me, my lady.”
She felt herself flushing but could not be silent.“I do not know your intentions or much of your history...”
“And I did not know theirs.I learned long ago, my lady, to trust my instincts when it came to entrusting other men.”He shook his head as she watched him.“There was something amiss, though I cannot name it.For the sake of the miller and his kin, I chose to be cautious.They have lost a son already.”
