“Sir Ranulf, allow me to make known to you Lady Margaret, wife to Sir William Folville, who is still bedfast and unable to join us.”
Lady Margaret was the oldest. One down and threewomento go.
“Lady Elaine says she has met you.” Was that censure he heard in her tone? “And this is Lady Alicia, Sir William’s daughter.”
A pretty twelve-year-old. He was obviously being introduced by rank.
“Dames Hilary and Florette are widows now,” the spokeslady continued. “Their husbands were Clydon knights, lost with my father in the Holy Land.”
Thatdemanded a response, even though he now knew for certain after this introduction which was the lady he meant to have words with. Dame Hilary was a stout woman of a score and five years, Dame Florette a winsome brunette with green eyes that peeked up at him shyly. And that took care of the women present except for the one beside him.
“I am sorry to hear of your recent loss,” Ranulf said to these two, getting no more than a halfhearted smile and nod in reply.
“Cecilia’s and Eleanor’s fathers also joined mine on Crusade. We are hoping these knights will return safely with Lord Guy.”
These were the last two younger girls, each too shy or frightened to look up at him. “The honor is mine,” Ranulf allowed, bowing to them all.
And now that that was over, Ranulf was damned well done with politeness. He turned to the Lady Reina with every intention of taking her off some where and blistering her ears with what he was feeling.
She spoke first, however, placing a tiny hand on his arm and leaning closer to him to say in a soft, half-whispered voice, “Sir Ranulf, do you come with me, please. I would have a private word with you ere we sit down to table.”
For all that “please” she included, it was still a command to his ears. That it suited him and was what he would have said, though not so nicely, did not change the fact he did not like being commanded by a woman. But she did not wait for his response, taking it for granted he would not refuse her. She turned away from the others, her hand not just resting on his arm now but gripping it, as if she meant to pull him along with her, as if she could if he chose not to follow. But he did follow her, only becausehewanted that private word, too.
She led him to a window embrasure on the side of the hall between what appeared to be wall chambers. There were two steps up into the arched alcove, an area five feet wide and as deep as the thickness of the walls, with two benches facing each other, lit brightly by afternoon sunlight.
She entered first, sitting on the left bench to face away from the dais. Ranulf took the other bench, though this left him in clear view of those still gathered at the hearth. He did not think that would stop him from venting his anger, as justifiable as it was, but again she did not give him a chance to have the first word.
“Thank you, my lord, for allowing me to apologize to you in private. The incident that resulted from my inattention is embarrassing for me to speak of, as I am sure it is for you, so I will be brief. I meant no insult to you in sending to you my personal servant. I was not thinking clearly when he beseeched me to let him attend you. Theodric is not usually so clumsy in giving insult, but in this case he tells me he did, and for that I beg your forgiveness, for myself and Theo. There is no excuse for his thinking you would be…he was simply besotted…oh,Jesú, this is more embarrassing than I thought.”
Reina squirmed uncomfortably, her cheeks flaming with color. The man was not helping her to end this. She had not been able to meet his eyes during this recital, but knew he stared at her, his own color high, waiting to see what more she would say. What more could she say?
With a sigh, she floundered on. “One has only to look at you, Sir Ranulf, to know you are not like…well, you must realize by now that Theo is different, that he is attracted only to…” She could not go on in that vein. “Verily, I am putting my foot in it.”
“Aye, you have that aright.”
Reina stiffened to hear his surly bass rumble at last. So he was still in high dudgeon, was he? She finally met his eyes directly and did not like what she saw in their depths, darkened now to indigo.
Coldly, offended herself that he could not be magnanimous after her apology, she said, “The mistake was mine. Theo cannot help how he is, but he has been with me for five years and is dear to me. I have already chastised him and will assure that you will not be reminded of the incident by his presence. But if you cannot see your way clear to forgetting the matter and wish to leave immediately, I will understand.”
Forget it or leave? Ranulf had to choke back what he would like to say to that ultimatum. The little bitch. She was forcing him to let the matter rest, denying him a chance to vent his fury now that she had put it this way. Of course he could not leave, not until night came and he could take her with him. But, by God, she had seen to it that he no longer had any regrets at all about delivering her posthaste to Rothwell. The two deserved each other.
With difficulty, Ranulf got out, “As you say, the matter is forgotten.”
“Forsooth, I cannot say I feel forgiven, Sir Ranulf. Do you wish to shake me again? Will that help?”
He glared at her for reminding him that he had also made an unforgivable mistake, and he had little doubt the reminding was done apurpose. And she had the audacity to smile at him now, revealing a row of pearly white teeth.
Nor did she await an answer. She reached across the narrow space between them and placed her small hand on his knee, then drew it back as if recalling she was not familiar enough with him to touch him. Yet she still smiled.
“I was not serious with that offer, you know. Does no one ever tease you?”
“Aye, Walter risks his life often to do so.”
She laughed, a soft, pleasing sound. “Fie on you if that is so. I hope ’tis only an empty belly that has you so surly, for that I can amend.”
Ranulf had the grace to blush. The lady was still teasing, but if he did not let go of his bad temper right quickly, she would not be offering him a chance to leave, but demanding that he do so.
“Your pardon, demoiselle. And your viands will indeed be most welcome.”
