Now the son would finish what the father had begun.
Indeed, if sire and son were cut from the same cloth, it was not unlikely that this manwasbehind the recent raids on Annossy.
Surely, Tulley would not compel her to wed him.
But her overlord’s resolute expression left no doubt that he would do exactly that.
Quinn de Sayerne would be Melissande’s husband and, if she did not miss her guess, their vows would be exchanged without delay.
She and Annossy were lost forever, and worse, there was naught she could do about it.
It was troublingto see such a beautiful woman displeased, and worse to recognize that Quinn himself was the source of her dismay.
The noblewoman in Tulley’s office had long fair hair, although it was twisted and braided so that its golden glory was difficult to see.She frowned at Quinn when he entered the chamber, her expression making him well aware that Tulley had granted him no opportunity to bathe before the meeting.He had been troubled enough about that fact, but the châtelain had insisted he bend his knee first, and so Quinn had complied.
Even the lady’s foul mood did not deter from the beauty of her heart-shaped face and slender form.Her green eyes were tipped upward at their corners and heavily lashed despite her fair coloring.They snapped with fury as she glanced toward him, as if he were guilty of some crime.Her very presence made Quinn aware of how long he had lived in the company of men.It seemed that she, too, had been rushed to this chamber, for a fine dark cloak lined with fur still hung over her shoulders and her gloves were yet in her hand.
She must have been in the small party that rode down the valley ahead of his own.
Quinn was not certain what to say to her or if he should speak to her at all.In all honesty, he recalled few of the niceties of polite society.The company of noble ladies was a distant recollection for him and he had never possessed the easy charm of a knight like his comrades Amaury or Niall.
He considered his own garb and knew he would have to improve his wardrobe before he sought a bride.
“Lord de Tulley?”he said, knowing his voice dropped lower in his effort to appear composed.The lord’s smile seemed genuine and Quinn dared to hope that all was not lost.
“Aye, Quinn.I suspect that you barely recall our last meeting.”The lord rose from his chair and rounded the desk to shake Quinn’s hand.“You were only a boy, then.You have grown tall these twenty years.”
“Aye, sir.And I thank you for your support.”Quinn regarded the older man with surprise at his unexpected familiarity.He recalled those bright blue eyes and the relentless set to the older man’s lips.He also recalled Tulley being stern and uncompromising.Although the thick mane of white hair was new, there was a vigor in the lord’s grasp that recalled a long-ago summer afternoon to Quinn’s mind.
“It was you who sent me to earn my spurs and bade me seek my fortune,” he said.
The lord nodded as he released his hand.“Aye.I always knew that you would grow up straight and true, despite the challenges laid at your door.”He looked Quinn in the eye again.“How are matters at Sayerne?”
Quinn flicked a glance to the silent lady, disliking that he had to confess the truth before her.
Although, it seemed impossible that she could think less of him.
“Neglected,” he admitted.
The lady sniffed at his admission and averted her face.Obviously, she thought the fault was his and Quinn immediately longed to defend himself.That she evidently thought little of him was something he should not find troubling.Bayard had warned him often enough of the fickleness of noblewomen for Quinn to let such a judgment concern him.
He fired a hostile glance in her direction when the lord turned away.She held his gaze boldly and something sparked between them, something that put a flush in her pale cheeks and a fire in his own blood.She averted her gaze again, tossing her head like a filly objecting to the bridle.
Tulley paced behind his desk.“You appear undaunted by Sayerne’s state,” the older man mused.His manner was much that of a cat toying with a mouse and Quinn eyed him before he responded.
Surely the lord did not intend to grant Sayerne to another?Quinn realized suddenly that the missive had only summoned him here.It had not mentioned his investiture, although he had assumed...
Quinn resolved to learn the truth in short order.
“Sayerne is my inheritance,” he said with care.“And there is naught wrong with the holding that hard work will not put right.”
The lady folded her arms across her chest.“And who will do this work, now that your abused villeins have fled?”
“It is only natural that villeins would leave an estate without a lord,” Quinn countered.“I am convinced that they will return when they hear that I have arrived and intend to rebuild.”
“You?”The lady scoffed.“Surely the arrival of the son of Jerome de Sayerne will have no appeal for his tenants!”
That he should be accused by a stranger of being like his father prompted Quinn’s anger as naught else could.He had never abused another.He had never cruelly taken whatever he desired and ignored the repercussions.He was as different from his father as a man could be, and he was different by choice.
