“Of course,” he said, nodding to his steward. “Alain, find a suitable chamber for Sir William and a place for his men in the barracks. They will be staying with us for a short time. I have some matters to attend to, but we will talk more at supper. Your men may join us as well, if you wish.” He gestured at Roger, Gautier and Armand, seated a distance away.
“Again, my thanks for your hospitality. It will be a welcome change from living on the road.”
His men stood and bowed as Lord Hugh passed them and then they came to him. The steward stood ready to show them to where they would sleep.
“I need to know how many he has here. And where they are,” he said quietly, never taking his gaze off the steward who stood just out of earshot. “And anything else you think important.”
He turned to the steward. “Alain? When does Lord Hugh eat his evening meal? I have a matter to see to and do not wish to be late.”
“At sundown,” Alain answered.
“Roger, accompany Armand to your quarters. Gautier, come with me.”
“Sir William, the gates close at sundown and will not be opened for anyone.”
“Just so, Alain. We will be back by then.”
They reclaimed their horses from the stableboys and left then, watching as Roger and Armand were taken to one of the smaller buildings farther inside the castle. This time they rode through the village, not trying to hide or be discreet. Now they were guests of Lord Hugh. He slowed his pace as they passed the smithy. From the sounds and smells, Gavin was hard at work, making weapons for Lord Hugh. Glancing down the smaller paths and around the cottages and other buildings, William searched for any sign of Brienne and saw none. He hoped that was a good omen, that she was heeding his warning and keeping to her usual tasks.
After giving his men new orders, he sent one of them to Marcus across the valley. Nothing he’d seen there spoke of a knowledge of fighting or defense. From the man’s own words, they had no skills and no soldiers among their group. But he knew that he must at least warn them of the possible danger of an angry lord in regard to the trespassers on his property.
Riding back toward the castle, William felt as though his true task for the king was finally under way.
The evening meal was uneventful and more pleasant than he had expected it could be. In spite of the fear that seemed to control the villagers, those living here in the castle seemed at ease. The lady and her daughter ate with them and retired early to their chambers, which William noted were not in this building but in a smaller one across the yard.
Lord Hugh did not remain in the hall, though his men did after his departure, offering some games of chance that lasted well into the night. Remarkably, when he returned to the room he’d been assigned, a young woman stood at his door, offering whateverhospitalityhe wished. Whether sent by Lord Hugh or Alain, it mattered not, for William would not partake of her favors.
Lying on the rope-strung bed that night, William realized that the one woman he would like to have in his bed was the one he would not ever have. He would not dishonor her by taking her virtue. And no amount of wanting or desire could make it so.
She’d takenher evening meal on a tray in her chamber.
Her chamber.
Glancing up in the light of the expensive wax candles that sat around the room, she could not believe the events of the day. The bed had a down-filled mattress over tightly strung ropes, which made it blissful to lay on. She’d let out a gasp and then a long sigh as her body sank into the softness of it. With plump pillows and a pile of blankets to keep her warm, Brienne knew she would be asleep in moments.
But now, an hour or more later, according to how far the candles had burned down, she could not sleep.
Pushing the bedcovers back, she climbed out and pulled on a robe. Unlike any garment she’d ever had, it was plush and thick and covered her from neck to feet. She did not know what the fabric was, but she loved the way it felt against her skin.
Walking over to the trunk in the corner, she lifted the lid and just stared at the costly clothing inside it. During the rest of the day, servants had come to do Lord Hugh’s bidding—delivering gowns, shifts, stockings, shoes, and jewelry, the likes of which she’d never seen or hoped for before. Combs, veils, and circlets for her hair, and several belts and fine linen kerchiefs added to the amazing collection.
The most extraordinary arrival had been a young woman named Emilie. Emilie came from Lord Hugh’s holdings in France and was some sort of distant cousin. And now she was Brienne’s lady’s maid and companion.
As someone who took care of herself and carried out her chores and performed errands for whoever needed help in the village, having a servant to see to her needs was too difficult to believe.
And Emilie, with guidance from Lady Margaret and Lady Adelaide, would help Brienne learn the skills a young woman of good birth should have. Music. Embroidery. Reading and writing—skills that had been ignored in her life because there were other more important tasks to be done. Now she would learn them.
She was shocked by the wealth showered upon her. It was not that she was unaware Lord Hugh was wealthy. She had known. But the chance that any of it would be shared with her was not something she thought in the realm of possibilities until now.
She walked to the window and carefully opened the shutters to peer out. From this height, she could see the village over the wall. The cottages seemed even smaller to her now, seen from this distance. Nothing moved in the dark. Gavin and Fia would be asleep by now, rising at dawn to face the new day’s chores and tasks without her help. And James. It seemed so long ago that the boy had asked to marry her.
She let out a sigh. The bliss was beginning to slip a bit, and her sense of judgment crept back in. Brienne knew there was surely a price to pay for all this good fortune.
Nothing she’d seen in Lord Hugh over her whole life led her to believe he did this for her. Or that he was seeking to do the right and fatherly thing. He needed or wanted something from her, and all these luxuries were payment for it. When she turned back from the window, he stood before her as though her thoughts and questions had conjured him.
“My lord,” she said, dropping into a curtsy the way Emilie had shown her. “I did not hear you enter.”
“Your chambers. The garments. All are to your liking?” he asked.
