“Go!” he cut in, but his expression was not daunting. In fact, it was just short of breaking into a grin.
She smiled at him for good measure and heard Isabella say before she closed the door on them, “’Twas an excellent suggestion she made, Warrick.”
“I am not surprised you wouldst think so, lady, as it solves your dilemma nicely. It does not, however, get me the son I desired.”
Rowena did not wait around to hear the lady renew her apologies. But she left wondering about the sex of the babe she carried. A son would be nice for a firstborn, but a son was what Warrick wanted. The question was, would a son gain her an offer of marriage, or guarantee her losing her firstborn child?
Chapter 31
Warrick was not sure what complexity the wench was perpetrating on him, but he had already drawn the conclusion that he did not mind it. What Rowena hoped to gain with her strange behavior he could not guess. Not that it mattered. What he had planned for her would not change—well, mayhap only slightly, for he no longer had any desire to make her suffer. Her puckish wit was also a pleasant surprise. As solemn and determined as she had been at Kirkburough, he would not have expected a playful side to her.
Kirkburough—’twas not her town, nor would it be now. But for the first time, he wondered who Rowena was and where she had come from.
“Have you spoken to the lady yet about Emma?”
Warrick turned from watching his men testing their skills against Sheldon’s knights on the training field. For a moment he had no idea what his friend referred to—until he saw whom Sheldon was staring at. Rowena was crossing the bailey to the washhouse, her arms piled high with linens. So easily was she noticeable, her long braid glittering in the sunlight, her bright red chemise only visible at her neck, arms, and feet, but such a contrast to the drab dun bliaut she wore. In no conceivable way did she look like the servants around her. ’Twas almost ridiculous to call her so, yet he would continue to do so, regardless of how others saw her—or called her.
He was chagrined, however, that he had completely forgotten the new task he had agreed to give her. Obviously, when she was near him, his thoughts gravitated in only one direction.
“With Isabella’s coming and going, there was no opportunity—”
“Say no more,” Sheldon interrupted what was in truth a lame excuse. “’Tis appalling the treatment you have had from that family, and young Miles, the boy must be mad to think he could steal your bride and not die for it. ’Tis a shame. I know his father and—”
“God’s blood, Sheldon, do not put deeds to my hand that have not entered my head.”
Sheldon stared at him so incredulously, Warrick flushed to the roots of his hair. “You cannot mean to actually let the boy live after the ill he has done you. You? Are you feeling quite well, Warrick?”
Warrick was scowling before Sheldon finished, because his friend was absolutely serious in his concern. “I am in no wise addled, damn it. Merely do I not care overmuch that the lady is lost to me. The alliance stands, since I have now promised Beatrix in my stead. Lord Reinard is as satisfied as I with the end result. Verily, what have I lost but the lady herself, who was already bespoke in her feelings, so would no doubt have turned shrewish on me. In truth, I must thank Miles Fergant for his daring.”
Again Sheldon just stared, prompting Warrick to growl, “How is your arm, my friend? Grown as rusty as mine has these past weeks?”
Sheldon finally laughed. “Do I dare refuse such a pleasantly expressed offer?”
“I would not recommend it.”
“Then have at me,” Sheldon said, drawing his sword. “Just do not suddenly forget that you are forgiving the Fergant whelp. The last time you substituted me for one of your enemies, I did not rise from my bed for a fortnight.”
Warrick cocked a brow as he drew his own sword. “That bedridden time lengthens each time you make mention of it. Is it sympathy you seek, or a light practice?”
“The day you give anyone a light practice—”
Sheldon did not finish as he met Warrick’s first swing. The clang of their blades joined the others on the field, but soon only the two rang out as their men quit their own sport to watch. Rowena watched through the open door of the laundry, ignoring the bedding she had brought there to wash. Near the inner gate, a messenger who had just arrived was now reluctant to deliver the challenge he carried, when he was directed toward the two seasoned knights hacking at each other in what appeared mortal combat.
High on the castle ramparts, Beatrix also watched her father, hoping he would trip or err in his offense, thereby making a fool of himself. She was so furious with him, she had already slapped two servants and caused her beloved Melisant to cry.
’Twas the horrid disappointment in having his betrothed arrive when Beatrix had begun to think Isabella never would, and expecting the worst, a wedding within days, only to be told a few hours later that her father was not to wed, thatshewas instead—and intothatfamily. The Malduits might have been good enough for her father, butshecould have aspired to a more lofty title, more power, more wealth, an earl at the very least. But nay, she was to have a stripling of a boy, only just knighted, who could not hope to inherit for many a year. She would not even have her own castle, but was expected to live with her father-by-marriage. ’Twas intolerable, and all becausehedecreed it so. She would,mustmake him sorry for it. That he would dare do this to her…
Warrick sat up slowly, his pride more bruised than his arse. Sheldon stood over him laughing, and with good reason. Never in Warrick’s life had he been taken so unawares, like a squire with his first wooden sword in hand. Damn that flaxen-haired wench and her eye-drawing red chemise, not to mention that delectable body it covered. He had no more than caught that flash of red out of the corner of his eye, just enough to be drawn into looking further—just enough for Sheldon to knock him off his feet as their blades connected low, the unprepared-for impact sending him backward, flat on the ground. And now she stood there, having stopped across the yard to stare at his ignoble position on the ground, looking as if she might be concerned, when ’twas more like she was fighting not to laugh, as Sheldon was doing.
“You realize, do you not,” Sheldon said, “that my prowess in downing the dragon will travel—”
“Go to hell,” Warrick grunted as he rose to his feet, but added with a tight smile, “Or better yet, do you care to try that again?”
Sheldon backed up, still grinning. “No fool stands before you, friend. I will take my laurels and quit whilst—”
“A messenger, my lord,” Warrick’s bailiff interrupted at that point.
Warrick turned impatiently to the messenger, noting that he was too clean to have traveled very far. He took the rolled parchment handed to him without the least change in expression to indicate that he recognized the seal.
