to speak any louder, while Sir Henry smiled as if he’d just been given a present.
Yes, he would bear watching, and Beatrice, too. Constance loved her cousin, and didn’t want Beatrice’s heart broken—or worse, for Beatrice to be dishonored by a charming seducer her betrothed had brought into their midst.
Merrick paused in his progress toward the steps and glanced back over his shoulder. “Well, my lady, will you join us or not?”
Despite his imperious tone, she made no effort to rush as she followed the new lord of Tregellas.
Who seemed to be very much his father’s son after all.
CHAPTER TWO
MAKING SURE NO PART OF HER came into contact with Merrick as he waited by the door, Constance followed the uncles into the solar, the small chamber Lord William had used for his private business.
As in the hall, expensive and colorful tapestries lined the walls to keep out the chill. A massive trestle table, pitted and scared from Lord William’s blows and missiles, stood near the window. A wooden, bossed chest holding all the various parchments detailing the tenants and the tithes rested in the corner. There Merrick would also find a copy of his father’s will, a document that had elicited many a raving tantrum before it had finally been completed to Lord William’s satisfaction.
The lord’s chair—a huge, heavy thing of carved oak with a cushioned seat—was behind the table. The only other seats were stools, set against the wall, and rarely used in Lord William’s time. He preferred to have those brought before him standing like humble petitioners, no matter what their rank or worth.
“We hear you’ve been to court many times, my lord,” Lord Carrell began as they arranged themselves like a line of soldiers about to be inspected. “You must have met the king and queen, for which I envy you. Tell me, what do you think of our young ruler?”
Merrick didn’t go around the table and take his seat, as she expected. Instead, he stood in front of it and crossed his muscular arms, regarding them steadily. “King Henry is my sovereign lord.”
“Your liege lord, the earl of Cornwall, often disagrees with his brother the king,” Lord Carrell replied. “Indeed, we hear many barons fear King Henry is too much influenced by his French wife.”
The corners of Merrick’s full lips curved downward in a frown. “Whatever the king does or does not do is not for me to question, and how he comes to his decisions is not for me to ponder.”
Merrick was obviously the sort of nobleman who was loyal no matter what the king did, even if Henry and his French queen were leading the country down the road to rebellion.
And if Merrick, like most noblemen, believed a woman’s place was confined solely to the hearth and home and children, her observations on the political situation, as well as her suggestions as to how he should deal with the earl and the king, would surely be unwelcome. So she blithely began to tell her intended husband exactly what she thought.
“From what I understand of the court, there’s a great deal of conflict between the English barons and the relatives of the queen. The king seems to be making a terrible mistake giving Queen Eleanor’s relatives so much power. As for her insisting that her uncle be made Archbishop of Canterbury, is there a more ambitious, greedy candidate? If that man is holy, I’m a nun. Thank heavens he has yet to be confirmed because the pope is in such difficulty. Now we hear the earl of Cornwall might marry Eleanor’s sister. No doubt the queen seeks to bind him closer to prevent him from leading a rebellion, since there are many who would prefer him to his brother when it comes to commanding the kingdom. After all, it’s because of Richard’s diplomacy that Henry is free after his failed campaign to win back lands in France. And then there’s the matter of Simon de Mont-fort’s marriage to the king’s sister. Is it true de Mont-fort seduced her, or is that just gossip?”
She felt the uncles’ gaze upon her, but she ignored them and continued to look at Merrick, her brows raised in query. “What if Henry does something stupid again and the earl doesn’t rescue him? What if Richard finally turns against him?”
Merrick straightened, lowered his arms and regarded her sternly. “You speak of rebellion and treason, my lady. I will have no such talk, or even the suggestion of it, for any reason, in Tregellas while I command here. If the earl of Cornwall rebels against his brother, if this country is torn apart by civil war, then I shall choose which side to support, and not before.”
A vein in his temple began to throb, just as his father’s had before an enraged outburst. Having already endured enough fits of temper to last a lifetime, and realizing she’d achieved a certain measure of success, Constance changed the subject. “Perhaps we should discuss the wedding.”
“Very well,” Merrick said, nodding his agreement. His features relaxed a fraction, enough to tell her he preferred this subject to politics, or at least her political opinions. “I wish to be married within the week.”
If he’d grabbed her and bitten her, she couldn’t have been more shocked. How could she make him hate her enough to break the betrothal in that short a time? “That’s impossible!”
Merrick merely arched his straight black brows. “Why? You knew we were betrothed, did you not? And that I was to marry you as soon as I inherited the title, if not before. I see no reason to delay.”
“I do,” she retorted, her dismay turning swiftly into indignation. “We need time to prepare food for the feast—”
“The larders are well stocked,” her uncle interrupted. “Indeed, Constance, if Merrick is eager—”
She was anything but eager. “What about our guests? It will take at least a month to invite them, gather responses and prepare accommodations.”
“The only guests I care to have at my wedding are already here.”
“And then there are the wedding clothes…”
Merrick’s dark gaze impaled her. “It wouldn’t matter to me if you were married in your shift.”
Her breath caught for an instant—but only that. “It would matter a great deal to me, my lord,” she declared. “After being delayed for so long, I expect my wedding to be worth the wait.”
“I hope to make it so, my lady.”
Even though she was as incensed as she’d ever been, when he said those words in that low, husky voice, an unwelcome frisson of heated excitement flowed through her traitorous body. But she snuffed it out quickly. This whole discussion was proving that he was still the same selfish, spoiled brat, concerned only about his own needs and desires.
Therefore, she would give him a selfish need, if that was what he required. “Such celebrations are useful for creating alliances. Our wedding could be a valuable opportunity.”
“I wasn’t thinking of my marriage as a political opportunity.”
Only a financial one, she supposed. Why else would he be in such a hurry? If he were truly chivalrous, if he cared at all about her feelings, he would have asked her when the ceremony should be.
“I believe she’s right, nephew,” Lord Algernon seconded, albeit warily. “Perhaps it would be best to move more slowly.”
Constance
