had teased her to set her at ease last evening, and she had responded in kind. Though she could be coy, he had seen immediately that she possessed none of the traits of the sophisticated jades he was used to. He had found himself going half-serious with his talk of mutual love. Would it not be astounding if she really—
“The keep is a ruin, but this lady is not, eh?” Henri interrupted his thought with a sly grin. “She is right handsome for one so old.”
“Impertinent whelp,” Edouard admonished as he splashed his face with water from the basin. “Shake out my blue cote-hardie and find the belt, will you? No, the silver one.”
Baincroft must seem rather impoverished by Henri’s standards, Edouard thought. His son had never lived in so modest a place as this. Not that it was in ruin as the boy described, but it did lack the well-appointed comforts and rich trappings of their various estates in France.
And after many occasions of sharing palatial accommodations with the kings they had attended, Henri must believe he had fallen on mean times indeed. But Edouard knew this sound old castle, small though it was, possessed great possibilities.
Lady Anne kept a spartan household, though there were woolen blankets aplenty for warmth, and victuals plentiful enough so that no one suffered hunger. She prepared plain food, missing the customary spices save for salt, and served it up on humble trenchers and unembroidered linens. Economy was good in a wife, though it would no longer be necessary for Anne to employ it.
The old-fashioned square keep boasted only three stories above ground level, all its rooms accessed by a spiral stairway. Some wise ancestor had thrown up a high wall to add protection, creating the spacious ward where stood several outbuildings. All the stone, inside and out, remained undressed and not even whitewashed.
His wealth could change all of that. He would meet the ship this week and receive all the items his factor could gather and transport from the holdings in France. His belongings could make Baincroft a right habitable abode for the next few years, a place suitably grand for a lady such as Anne. By the time her son claimed it for his own, Edouard planned to have built her a home fit for royalty on her land adjacent to this.
Would she welcome grandeur, or would she remain the unpretentious, dignified soul that she seemed in spite of it? He secretly hoped that she would stay as she was. She wore a glow of serenity, a mantle more dear than any he had acquired thus far. Though even now, Edouard could feel a calmness seeping into his soul to replace the constant watchfulness and suspicion.
He straightened the hose points he had just tied to his belt and stood waiting for Henri to assemble the rest of his clothing. “You approve of the lady, then?” he asked his son.
“Dare I not?” the boy returned, holding the velvet garment out to be donned. “Would it matter? It did not the last time.”
“No,” Edouard admitted. He should have cuffed Henri for his sarcasm, but the lad did come by it honestly. Instead, he softened the truth with a smile of affection. “However, I would appreciate your support in this.”
Edouard sighed and laid his hands on Henri’s slender shoulders. “Son, you are nearly a man now. I have done you ill by remaining unattached so long. Who is to teach you manners and the way with proper ladies if I do not take a wife? True, I could foster you with another lord, one with a wife who would take on the task, but I trust no other to train you up as I will do.”
Henri nodded. “I would learn from the best there is, Father.”
“Not above boosting the old man’s pride, eh?” Edouard did feel immensely proud that Henri felt this way. He brushed nonexistent lint from the shoulders of his son’s finely stitched jack. “So! Shall we go below, break our fast, and charm my bride-to-be?”
“Why not?” Henri replied. “At least she does not serve up sheep guts as I have been told they do here. One must like her for that, I suppose.”
Edouard did cuff him then as they laughed together.
As they descended the stairs, he wondered whether Lady Anne had her own son convinced this marriage would be a good thing. A half-grown lad could harbor jealousy of a mother, hatred for a man who would replace his dead father, and resentment for anyone who had charge of his lands these next few years.
She greeted them, all gracious and soft-spoken, as they entered the hall. “My lord. Henri. Do come and eat. My uncle left Baincroft some two hours past.” She raised her brows and offered Edouard a conspiratorial half smile. “He wants musicians for the wedding feast. And better wine.”
“Now, why does that not surprise me?” Edouard laughed softly and placed her hand on his forearm. He pressed her fingers and felt her answering squeeze.
All the while, he congratulated himself again on his decision to wed this woman. Upon first glance at her the day before, he had known he would have her. She stirred his blood rightly enough, but her appeal extended beyond the obvious. He detected a remarkable strength, that inner calm, and a bold decisiveness surpassing any he had yet beheld in a woman. All that, without any evident aggressiveness. He wondered how she managed it.
She did resemble Hume’s daughter, Honor, somewhat. Only Lady Anne’s lovely gray eyes shot no sparks of hatred and fear when they met his own. Her inviting lips, which he had pressed for as long as he dared in their kiss of peace, offered only smiles and sweet words. Her musical voice did wondrous things to his senses, soothing and exciting at the same time. He could just imagine the gentle purr of it when he...
“When will we meet your son, my lady?” Henri dared ask. Edouard should have chastised him for speaking without leave, but he wanted the answer, as well. He added his questioning look to Henri’s.
She bit those rose-touched lips together for an instant before she answered. “Later today, I trow. Robert went a-hunting with my steward. I fear we did not expect your company yestereve and today found our meat in short supply. You will forgive him, won’t you? Rob does feel so responsible for Baincroft’s hospitality.”
“He has recovered from his illness then?”
“Illness?” The lady appeared confused for a moment and then fixed a bright smile. “Oh, aye, he is well enough to hunt! He seemed determined to go.”
“That is admirable of him.” Edouard assured her. He had noticed a small break in her poise and wished to restore it She must be concerned about her son’s reaction to the news that she would marry. “Lord Robert must provide you much comfort since you lost your husband. When he returns, I must commend your son for his thoughtfulness in seeing to our needs.”
The lady merely smiled, nodded and indicated they should sit down. This time he motioned for Henri to join them at board. There were hands enough to fill the cups and the food already lay on the table before them.
Edouard had hardly touched his ale cup when a heavyset man, one he’d seen in the stables, rushed in at a lumbering run, gasping, “Lady—come quick—our laddie—north wall!”
Lady Anne issued a sharp little cry and leapt up from her seat. Abandoning all grace for speed, she raced across the hall and out the door. Edouard followed at a run, as did Henri and the rest of the hall’s inhabitants.
When they rounded the keep itself, there were already a number of people staring up at the small figure atop the corner merlon, arms raised to the sky. A large hawk circled above him and the boy looked set to leap toward it.
“Mon
