One Knight's Return, page 14
And what they would say.
Bayard exchanged a glance with Quinn and he knew his old comrade shared his concern.
The villagers came forward to cheer Melissande’s return and eye the new arrivals. They were garbed in clean but simple clothing, like that of Berthe, and appeared to be healthy. Quinn could smell fresh bread and the fire at the smithy. He turned back to consider the walls and their defense, and thought it good. Annossy was in good repair, to be sure, and strongly built. There were sufficient sentries and he saw more than a few men-at-arms within the walls. He was aware that Gaultier watched him. The villagers surrounded Melissande and their affection for her was obvious. She gave pennies from her purse and accepted small gifts. She might have been absent for a month. He would win their support by courting her favor, and in no other way. Amaury surveyed the tower and the walls when they dismounted, his approval clear. Bayard and Niall surveyed the women and Lothair gazed about himself in wonder.
The ostler bowed low, calling for boys to take the horses. Quinn’s companions followed, for they were particular about the care of their steeds, and called for their own squires to be of aid. Quinn saw with a glance that the stable was clean and well-tended, but he had greater concerns.
He knew Melissande feared him to be like his father, and Quinn could readily imagine what his father would have done in similar circumstance. Melissande might have found herself outside Annossy’s walls with unwelcome speed, particularly if she did not conceive a child.
Even the pledge she had demanded of him might have seen her banished.
Quinn had to speak to his wife and calm her fears. Somehow, he had to convince her that he was different from Jerome in every way.
But the lady was out of her saddle and striding for the door to the keep with remarkable purpose. Quinn abandoned his comrades and hastened after her, ignoring the teasing of his friends and their comments about the desires of those newly wed.
He caught up to Melissande in the kitchens, still in her cloak and boots, conferring urgently with a short bald man. What was this? Quinn hung back, curious as to what his lady schemed. Did she intend to see to his demise with all haste? He could not believe it, but he wondered.
The little man laid books before her in rapid succession. “There is a keg of very new wine, my lady, and a small keg of older wine yet remaining from the Yule. Sadly, we sold a great deal of it this year and our stores are low.”
“Aye, I recall as much.” Melissande surveyed the accounts, as yet unaware of Quinn, and began to tug off her gloves. “What of ale?”
“We have little here, but I will send a boy to the village to buy whatever he can find. It is almost Lent so there will be little brewing, although that can be remedied in a few days.”
“Aye, see that it is so, please, Louis.”
“How long do they intend to linger?”
“I cannot say. It is possible their plans are not yet made. What of the meat?”
“There is a hind of venison in the larder and yet some salted pork...”
“The eels?”
“Gone, my lady. We finished them last eve.”
Melissande winced. “Are there yet three roosters?”
“Aye, my lady.”
“Kill two of them, please, Louis. We have need of more meat this night and George’s chicken stew is fit for a king. Instruct him to make it with an abundance of dumplings, please.”
“Aye, my lady.” The little man snapped his fingers and whispered to a portly man who might have been the cook.
“And bread?” Melissande asked. She was as vigilant as the keeper of provisions for an army and Quinn had the sense she carried much of the inventory in her thoughts. She seemed to be verifying what she already knew to be true.
“I have already sent to the village for the baker’s stores,” the cook said. “I heard the party arriving, my lady, and knew we would need more bread.”
“You are a marvel as ever, George,” she said, sparing that man a smile. She blinked when she noticed Quinn in the doorway and her face paled. “My lord,” she said and dropped to a curtsey. The two men—Quinn guessed châtelain and cook—glanced at him and bowed deeply. “Louis and George, this is my husband, your lord Quinn, a bold knight and crusader who is now Lord d’Annossy.”
Quinn noted that she omitted to mention his home estate.
That might have been a prudent choice, for all would know of his father here.
“Sir!” the two men exclaimed in unison and others in the kitchen turned to look at him.
Melissande nodded. “Aye, we will need to ensure that the entire household and the guard pledge fealty to my lord husband before the evening meal, Louis, so we can eat as allies and comrades. It is not long past noon, so we should be able to manage as much.”
“Of course, my lady. I shall see to it,” Louis said. “The hall will be arranged and all the household summoned...” His gaze flicked to Quinn and his words faltered as he bowed again. “If my lord desires it to be thus, of course,” he added with haste.
Quinn nodded approval and smiled. “My lady wife, as ever, shows wondrous good sense.” He offered his hand to Melissande. “She is a rare treasure. I shall rely heavily upon her expertise with regards to Annossy. If fact, you may assume that her every command is as mine own.”
Melissande’s eyes widened at that even as she put her hand in his, but the two men smiled as they bowed again. They turned to hasten about their duties but Melissande lingered on the threshold of the kitchens. “Eggs, George,” she said. “We shall start the meal with eggs, and a broth soup if you can manage as much.”
“With ease, my lady.”
“Have you some fruit that can be stewed? Louis, you may open the spice box to ensure that all is at its best for our guests.”
“Aye, my lady.”
Melissande looked as if she would like to flee his side, but Quinn caught her shoulders in his hands, compelling her to look at him. She regarded him warily. “I fear it will be a meager meal,” she said quickly. “We do not customarily have guests in winter at Annossy and the stores are low...”
“Melissande, it is not the king himself come calling.”
“But we have guests,” she said. “And hospitality must always be upheld...”
“These are my comrades from war.”
“It matters little how you know them or even if you know them at all. They are guests in the hall, and must be granted every consideration for the honor of Annossy...”
“Consider, Melissande, that we rode to war together,” Quinn said, giving her a little shake. “There were days aplenty that we had no bread, and more on which we had no meat. We seldom had wine, and oft made do with water from a well.”
She eyed him, still not understanding.
And truly, he was glad that she did not know what it was to be famished.
He smiled. “If you took that one loaf of bread there to the hall and told them it would be the sum of our meal, they would divide it and thank you for it and savor every morsel.” He shook his head. “They would not complain. They would be glad of your generosity.”
The lady frowned. “But they are your guests.”
“They are my friends,” Quinn corrected. “They will have shelter and they will have good company. Their horses will have fodder and they will be able to sleep, knowing the walls are defended around them. It is remarkable how much a man can endure with those gifts. Indeed, they will be grateful for it.” She still looked to be unconvinced. “Fear not. They will be awed by the hospitality of Annossy, however meager you might think it to be.” He bent then and touched his lips to her brow.
She closed her eyes and caught her breath and he dared to hold her for a moment. “I would ensure that there are provisions made for your guests’ comfort this night,” she said and he knew that she wanted to flee.
“They will be glad to sleep in hall or stables,” Quinn said but he lifted his hands away and Melissande strode from the kitchens. He watched her go, then looked up to find the châtelain, Louis, watching him. Affection was clear in the older man’s expression and Quinn recognized that it was for the lady. Quinn smiled and nodded, and was glad when Louis smiled back.
“Welcome, sir,” he said then bowed again. Quinn was encouraged to know that there were other souls who worried about the lady left to defend Annossy alone.
“I thank you, Louis, and would entreat your patience in my early days here. I have much to learn of Annossy.”
“Aye, sir. I am certain that the Lord de Tulley chose well.”
Quinn cleared his throat, recalling why Tulley had chosen him. “Louis, I wonder if you might arrange for any who know about the raids on Annossy’s borders to come and speak with me? I am charged by the Lord de Tulley to see these attacks ended, and I see no cause for delay.”
The little man bowed crisply, a light of approval bright in his eyes. “I shall see to it, my lord. Perhaps in the morning, after you break your fast?”
“That, Louis, is an excellent suggestion. I can see why my lady wife so relies upon you.”
Chapter 7
Quinn won over the entire household within moments.
Melissande had never seen the like. He might have known everyone at Annossy all of his life and simply been encountering old friends. By the time the evening meal was served, every soul at Annossy seemed to be enraptured with its new lord—save Gaultier. That knight watched Quinn steadily, as if he suspected him of being less than he appeared to be.
Melissande wondered whether her Captain of the Guard knew some detail about her new husband, and resolved to find out.
She was keenly aware that her hired warriors were nigh matched in number by Quinn’s party, and certainly so if the boys who rode as squires with Quinn and his comrades were counted as warriors themselves. She did not doubt that they were each and every one adept with a blade.
She could not help her sense that Annossy had been besieged and over-run by her new husband and his fellows.
But the villeins seemed to welcome the arrival of a lord to administer the holding, even without knowing much of Quinn. Once again, Melissande regretted her gender. He was a stranger, a man whose history and skills were unknown to them, but because he was a man, they greeted him with enthusiasm. The truth of it was sufficient to make her seethe, but she smiled, not wanting to hint that she was not the ally of Annossy’s new lord.
They came and knelt before Quinn, kissed his hand and pledged their fealty. The women smiled at him. The men watched him with admiration. The village boys followed him. The sentries and men-at-arms expressed pleasure to have a knight and crusader of his experience leading them and Melissande heard their relief at his arrival. She wondered at that, as well. He reviewed the guard on the walls and jested with the men and she saw how they stood taller after his words. At the evening meal, the servants in the hall saw that every course was served to him first. That was how it should be, but still Melissande found it irksome. She felt as if she had ceased to exist. All the labor she had done in this hall was as naught. All the sacrifices she had made for Annossy were forgotten, as was her lineage.
She had not done that badly, had she?
Their ready loyalty to a knight and stranger along with her uncertainty of how Quinn would use his advantage combined to leave Melissande concerned. She had not shared the detail of his paternity because she wanted Louis and George to accept him. In hindsight, she wondered if her whim had been foolish. It had seemed churlish to taint his arrival at Annossy with that truth, since he seemed to be different from his father, but now it would be more churlish to blurt out the truth.
Indeed, Quinn was polite beyond every expectation. He was the one who brought her into every conversation. He was the one who consulted with her about Annossy’s traditions. He was the one who ensured she was not forgotten, which left her feeling both grateful and unsettled. She did not wish to owe him more than marriage dictated she did. Each time she glanced his way, he granted her the engaging, crooked smile that made her heart lurch.
She feared that this was but a game to him and she was naught but a pawn.
A pawn who had to conceive his son with all haste.
Perhaps that explained Quinn’s charm. He knew what had to be done, and he but waited for her to make the invitation. Perhaps he meant to soften the blow to her pride. Melissande no longer knew what to think.
It was after the evening meal that Gaultier came to her. He bowed low and Quinn watched him, his eyes narrowed slightly. Indeed, there was a crackle of animosity between the pair. It was only in noting Gaultier’s obvious displeasure that Melissande wondered at his own objectives at Annossy. It was true that Gaultier was tall and straight, a fine figure of a man and a knight often watched by the maidens of Annossy. His hair was so dark as to be almost black and his eyes were a striking hue of green. She knew he was a younger son with no hope of inheritance himself and she had been glad when Tulley had sent a man of such abilities to her gates the year before. Gaultier flicked a glance at Quinn that was markedly hostile and Melissande wondered again if there was a root to their seemingly immediate dislike.
“My lady, I would confer with you,” Gaultier said.
“Surely whatever you would confide in my wife can be told before me, as well,” Quinn said, a thread of steel in his voice. He reached out and took Melissande’s hand, and Gaultier watched the gesture, his expression impassive. His eyes darkened, though.
“Before her departure, my lady granted me an assignment,” Gaultier said, keeping his tone formal. “Since it was the lady’s task, I would tell her of the result.”
“And what task was that?” Quinn asked Melissande. Truly, the Captain of the Guard had an insulting manner, and she believed that Quinn was striving to be fair. Gaultier should not have tried to urge her away from Quinn’s side to confer, after Quinn had bidden him to speak.
She was wed. She was chattel.
“There was a raid at the mill,” Melissande told Quinn. “We heard of it in the morning and I intended to ride there to confer with the miller as to the damage, but Tulley’s messenger arrived before I could do so. He insisted that I must ride with haste to Tulley, so Gaultier went to the mill, at my dictate.”
“A raid?” Quinn asked and she saw Bayard glance over. The other knight’s attention was avid and his charm dismissed. “By these same villains who harry Annossy’s borders?”
“I believe so,” Melissande said.
“And what did you discover?” Quinn asked Gaultier.
“I would speak with the lady,” Gaultier said, his tone stubborn. “She granted me the task and the tidings are due to her.”
The two men glared at each other, but Melissande spoke with quiet resolve. She knew her duty, even if she disliked the truth of it. “Gaultier, you have pledged your fealty to Quinn de Sayerne, Lord d’Annossy, and this report is thus owed to him.” It was her responsibility to ensure that her lord husband was not insulted and she hoped she managed the feat well. She had never been much of a diplomat.
Quinn’s features might have been set to stone, and she feared she had not been sufficiently fulsome.
“Sayerne?” Gaultier echoed and Melissande realized what she had said. “You hail from Sayerne?” he asked Quinn, his opinion of that more than clear. His voice rose slightly and the name of Quinn’s home estate began to be repeated in the hall. The villeins and servants stared at their new lord in surprise.
“My father was Jerome de Sayerne, it is true,” Quinn said, not flinching from the truth. He stood to address them all, his voice ringing over the company. “He and I parted ways twenty years ago, for we argued, and Lord de Tulley took me under his protection. I was only a boy, but Tulley sponsored me that I might train for my spurs. He found me employ to ensure that I gained experience at war, then suggested I take the cross when the pope called for the crusade. He sent word to me a year ago in Palestine, summoning me home, for my father had died. I had thought to rebuild Sayerne, but Lord de Tulley, in his generosity, granted me a bride instead.” Quinn took Melissande’s hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing the back of it as he smiled down at her. His smile was tight and she knew he was not pleased by the timing of her revelation, though she had not intended either to hide his lineage or suddenly reveal it.
“And Annossy,” Gaultier said, his tone silky.
“And Annossy,” Quinn agreed, their gazes locking again.
“What splendid good fortune for you,” Gaultier continued, and it was clear he thought otherwise.
Quinn took his seat beside Melissande again, her hand securely captive in the breadth of his own. “And what did you discover while the lady was at Tulley?”
Gaultier’s gaze flicked to Melissande, his dissatisfaction clear, then to her hand within Quinn’s. She smiled with a serenity she did not feel, for she could not fathom Quinn’s thoughts. He seemed harder and more resolute in this discussion, more a man of war, and her fears of his intentions were renewed.
She would be alone with him again this night, and his comrades filled the hall. How curious and troubling it was to consider that she would be outnumbered in her own abode.
“I have asked you a question, sir,” Quinn said softly and color rose on Gaultier’s neck.
The Captain of the Guard faced Melissande, making his true loyalty clear. “There was a theft, my lady. The miller and his wife were unharmed but frightened, and their coin was taken. The villains crossed the river at the ford, just below the mill, for I found the tracks from their horses there.”
“They ride horses?” Quinn asked. “Where would they stable their steeds?”
“If I knew that, sir, I should know where to apprehend them,” Gaultier snapped.
“You might be able to see their haven from the mill,” Quinn replied.
Gaultier straightened and Melissande raised a hand to silence him. She turned to Quinn. “The mill, sir, is not on the river Helva, but on a mountain stream that flows into it. We did not pass close to the mill on this day, but on the other side of that stream, the forest is dense. I would wager that in twenty paces, the sight of a horse would be lost in the undergrowth.”
