“Oh?”
Theo grinned, remembering. “He was vexed, I think, that he could not tell how old you were.” He was not about to repeat the man’s exact words. “He asked your age, when the wedding was to be, and who your betrothed was.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“Nothing to set his teeth into, so he is like to repeat his questions to you—that is, if he calms down enough.”
Reina became very still. “Theo, tell me you did not offend him?”
“Of course not…but…he might think otherwise.”
“Tell me!”
Theo blushed, looking away. “He was so distracted that when I…well, I did not get out of the way as quick as you suggested. He was ready to tear me apart. I did not wait around to see if he would.”
“Oh, Theo,” Reina groaned. “Could you not sense that he was not interestedbeforeyou went so far as to make him wroth?”
“I told you, he was distracted.” His tone turned defensive. “There was no easy way—”
“You could have just asked him right out! SweetJesú, what was I thinking to let you near him? I do not need this on top of everything else.” She threw open her clothes chest and yanked out whatever was on top. “Well, do not just stand there. I must hurry now so he will not be kept waiting a second time. Did you at least send Eadwina to finish his bath?”
Theo tossed a linen shift over her head. “She was already busy with one of the others.”
“Who did you send?”
“Amabel.”
“Theo! Fat Amabel? How could you?”
“What did I do?” he replied in all innocence as he tied the laces on her long-sleeved chemise. “She was available.”
Reina glared at him, ready to box his ears. “If he was not insulted before, he is like to be now. And I swear, if your silly spite causes me difficulty with him, I will myself nail your hide to the wall.”
Theo protested. “He had so much on his mind he was not interested in a tumble, from anyone. He will not even notice Amabel.”
“You better have the right of it. Oh,Jesú, you still have to dry my hair! Do hurry, Theo. I must be there when he returns to the hall.”
Chapter Eight
Ranulf came down the tower stairwell to find Walter sitting on the bottom step waiting for him. “I was beginning to think you were lost up there. And here I thought I would be the last to return to the hall after that stunning little blond wench saw to me.”
Walter could not have said anything worse, not after Ranulf had lingered apurpose in the tower chamber to give his temper time to cool off. First he was given that catamite, then a female so hefty even he could not get his arms around her if he had wanted to, which fortunately he did not.
“How was she?” Ranulf said curtly.
“Need you ask?”
Ranulf growled low in his throat before demanding, “Has the lady come down yet?”
“Aye, a while ago,” Walter said with a curious look. “And what is wrong with you?”
“Naught thatshecannot fix,” Ranulf replied and passed through the archway that opened into the Great Hall.
With anger near choking him, he headed straight for the raised dais and the large hearth in the center of it, where Searle and Eric stood amidst an entire group of ladies. Even the thought of going among so many “ladies” did not daunt him. But he did slow down and feel rather deflated as he rounded the long table now set with white linen for the afternoon meal, realizing belatedly that he would not know which of the women was Reina de Champeney.
There were four older women, the young Lady Elaine, whom he had frightened earlier, and three other girls who looked no more than twelve or thirteen. Which of the older women was the Lady of Clydon was impossible to guess, for even the oldest could be no more than a score and ten years.
It was the youngest of the four women who stepped away from the others to greet him. That her eyes, as well as the others’, were lowered demurely kept him still in the dark, for at least he would have recognized those cerulean-blue eyes he had seen earlier.
