He had to wonder if there could be some truth to what Walter said.Hadhe been too rough with her? He had somehow forgotten how really small she was, at least small to him. Had he hurt her? Was she too stubborn to tell him if he did, reverting to anger instead?
What he knew of ladies he did not like, but in truth, he knew very little about them. The two who had turned him against their kind had done a good job, for he had avoided gentlewomen ever since. Now he was married to one, a woman he had no understanding of at all, and who set him to doubting his own behavior when he knew no other way to be.
She was right about what he was used to with women. Getting right to it was necessary when the moments were stolen, for a servant or villein rarely had any free time to herself. And they had always been easy to come by, costing no more than a cheap bauble or a decent meal, or nothing at all because they found a man his size a novelty and wanted to try him.
He had never had to woo a woman, not even Lady Anne, for she had been the one to start their affair. Yet she had never complained of his roughness, if rough he had been. He could not recall much of their passionate encounters except that they had been hurried, too, the fear of being discovered very strong. But he had been only ten years and five at the time, and well and truly smitten. By the time his head had come out of the clouds, it was too late for him to see through the sweetness to the rotten core beneath.
Rationally, he knew ’twas unfair to compare all ladies with that bitch Anne, yet he had done exactly that. As for his wife, she had had fair warning of how he had been raised, as well as a sample of his mannersbeforeshe had decided to settle on him. A man learns by example, and his example had been first his blacksmith stepfather, then Montfort, both men as churlish as they come and ever quick with a blow. Walter had tried to show him differently, and teased him mightily about his lack of courtly ways, but Walter’s own were nearly lost during their years at Montfort.
Ranulf was what he was, a product of his upbringing. If his wife wanted different, she would have to find it elsewhere.
That thought cut deeply into his good humor. There would be no finding aught elsewhere, not for her. The lady had stuck herself with him and would just have to lower her expectations accordingly. But he supposed he could not call his treatment of her gentle thus far.
Since he had met her, he had dropped her on the floor, bound her and rolled her up in a blanket, ordered sacks of grain dumped on her, literally rolled her out of same blanket, and God only knew in what manner he had taken her on their true wedding night, for he had been too sotted to remember his part in it. In all fairness, she deserved none of that, and what would it cost him to be less—brutish? Aye, that was her word.
He could at least try to be as she would like. There were those comforts Walter had mentioned as a reward. And she had given him so much, more than he had ever expected to have. He would try.
Chapter Twenty-four
Reina’s good spirits had returned somewhat by the time they crossed over Clydon’s first drawbridge. Her guests had enjoyed good sport, even if she had not. They were still quite merry. They had returned early enough to refresh themselves ere they sat down to another feast that was awaiting them. And most would be leaving after that, to take advantage of the rest of the afternoon to get back to their own homes. Clydon could then return to normal, at least by the morrow, which would be a welcome relief.
As much as Reina usually enjoyed company, insisting her guests stay as long as they liked, this time she did not. She needed some time alone to acclimate herself to this drastic change in her life. She had even thought of a way to get rid of her husband for a while, if he would only agree.
But she was not to get rid of all the guests, did in fact have a new one, as she saw when she entered the hall with the hunting party. John de Lascelles rose from the bench by the hearth, where Lady Elaine had been having a conversation with him, and crossed the hall to meet Reina halfway.
Her own step had slowed. She felt raw anger at first sight of him, for at the moment she was none too pleased with her choice of husband, and John could have changed all that if he had just arrived one week sooner. One cursed week! Then she felt contrition. He had his own troubles in taking over his brother’s lands. She could not blame hers on him, no matter how much she wanted to blame them on someone. And she was forgetting that Ranulfwasher choice, and for all the reasons that were important. It was just her misfortune that she was beginning to dislike him personally.
Aside from those feelings, Reina was glad to see her old friend, for it had been more than a year since he had visited Clydon. He had lost weight in that time he could ill afford to lose, and looked a bit pale, but otherwise the same. His green eyes still revealed a tenderhearted nature, his expression warm with delight to see her. She summoned a warm smile for him, too, and returned his brief embrace of greeting.
“Lady Elaine tells me good wishes are in order, Reina. Was this the urgency implied in your letter, a summons to witness your marriage?”
Reina accepted this excuse gladly. “Indeed. I had so wished you could have attended the wedding.”
She immediately regretted the choice of those words and their double meaning, which she hadnotintended, but which was apparent when she heard her steward smother a snort. She noticed Theo leaning nonchalantly against the wall and saw him roll his eyes. Simon and Guiot turned quickly away to hide their expressions.
But what else could she have said? John might have been thrilled at the idea of having her to wife, especially since the power behind Clydon could have more easily alleviated his present difficulties. To tell him now that she had wanted him for husband, when it was too late to do aught about it, was apt only to cause unnecessary bitterness on his part.
“Why the secrecy, Reina? Why could you not be more specific in your letters?”
“What? Oh, that. Trouble with one of my neighbors, intercepting my messengers,” she said evasively. “He wanted to marry me himself, you see.”
“Lord Falkes, I would wager, but we can speak of that later. Do you tell me which of these noble gentlemen is that fortunate lord to win you.”
He was looking behind her, at the faces he did not recognize.Jesú, how could she have forgotten about Ranulf, even for a moment?
She swung around to find himrightbehind her, so close her nose collided with his hard chest. Curse and rot him, had he heard her, too, and the wistfulness in those words about wishing John could have attended the wedding? But his expression, when she craned her neck to see it, was only curious, and she realized he did not know who John was. Mayhap he would not recognize his name either, having heard it just once.
Reina quickly introduced them, hoping she could as quickly separate them, but that was not to be. She did not know what exactly she had expected from Ranulf, antagonism mayhap, in seeing John as a rival. What she got was a golden brow raised in her direction, and a distinct feeling of amusement just below the surface of his falsely bland expression.
“Now where have I heard that name?” he asked her.
“You would have heard me mention it,” she replied tightly, and to John: “Do you come with me and I will see you refreshed before we sit down to table. Sir Henry left this morn, so you can have his chamber.”
She deliberately dragged John away before Ranulf could say any more. He knew, the lout. But what did he find so amusing? So John was closer to her height than his. So he was not as broad of shoulder or thick of arm, was in fact quite thin of frame. At least John was kind and gentle, andhewould not have tumbled her in the woods.
When she returned to the hall, it was to hear her husband’s booming laughter. He stood with his friends, Walter, Searle, and the others, and she flushed with anger, imagining some jest at dear John’s expense. She would not have it, and marched directly into their group while her irritation was high.
“I would like a private word, my lord.”
