But how did she calmly manage to ask for things when she was seething with upset? True, her mother's temper had not been as vitriolic as was hers. She had managed to let her husband know in subtle ways that she was displeased with him, and whether he were guilty or not, he would certainly think he had reason to be and so had leapt at any opportunity to make amends, be it a new gown or a visit to court.
Reina could not picture her giant husband doing anything so normal as trying to assuage a guilty conscience. Neither could she picture herself calmly putting suggestions to him when she would rather break something over his head. But if her mother could do it, she could, too. However, once she had the agreements she wanted, then she would kill him—that swine, that miserable, dog-hearted wretch!
How could he? . . . nay, nay, what was wrong with her? She had no business being so furious over something like this. The common belief was that conjugal fidelity was not important. She knew that, had never expected it to be otherwise. What woman did?— except her mother, of course.
The best Reina had hoped for was that her husband would not shame her by bringing his mistresses home, as some men did. And yet was this not as bad? To visit Red Alma in full daylight, in full sight of every gossip in the village, just two days after their wedding. And Red Alma! Reina could understand more readily if she had caught him rutting in a dark corner with Eadwina. Men drooled over Eadwina. Why should her lusty husband be any different?
But Red Alma? True, the woman was not unsightly with her flaming red hair and come-hither eyes of pansy blue. And she was a curvaceous handful, which Reina knew her husband to be partial to. But he was aware that, unlike most ladies, Reina went among her villeins to tend their ills. He had to know that if he visited the village whore, she would learn of it right quickly, even if he had not imagined she would actually find him with the woman as she had.
So did he want her to know? Was this his way of punishing her for her complaints? And she had been complaining, shrewishly so. Or had he even thought of punishing her? More likely he just wanted a more satisfying ride. Yet she could not forget his question just last night, asking her if she would prefer he lust after someone else. Had he taken her silence for agreement instead of refusal? Could he be that stupid?
"Young Malfed said you wished to speak with me?"
Good. Being forewarned would have him thinking she meant to mention Red Alma. But she had no intention of doing that, which ought to confound him nicely.
Reina composed her features as best she could and turned about to face her errant husband—and was confounded herself. She did not know how she had expected a man to look who was wallowing in guilt, but 'twas not with a mere look of inquiry. Even Lady Ella was purring contentedly in his arms, sensing no agitation in her master.
"Do you sit down, my lord." She indicated the lord's chair, which she had moved in front of the hearth for this discussion. "Wine?"
He nodded, taking the seat. Reina raised her hand and a servant rushed forward with the refreshment.
She had not missed his sigh when he sat down. Was he so tired from his exertions in the village? She had to force herself to hand him the chalice of wine instead of dumping it over his head.
"My bailiff informs me he took you out to view the fields and the mill this morn."
"Aye."
He sipped his wine to keep from meeting her eyes, or so Reina thought. She moved in front of the hearth to look down on him. "I suppose the rest of your day was as productive?"
He choked, spewing wine. The cat hissed, jumping down from his lap. Reina picked her up and smoothed off the wine drops from her fur before setting her down on a nearby bench, where she proceeded to do a better job of cleaning herself. Ranulf was still coughing.
"Mayhap the wine is too strong, my lord?" Reina said in all innocence. "Would you prefer ale?"
With a glower, he rasped, "I would prefer it do you come to the point."
"Point? I have no point to make. There are a few things we needs discuss, but if you are too weary right now from such a tiring day, it can wait."
Her emphasis on his exhaustion was not lost on Ranulf. He was tired, but from riding hell-bent through the woods looking for outlaws or any sport that would get his mind off what Red Alma had told him. It was either that or give in to the lust her suggestions had inspired, and he was damned if he was going to let his cursed prick rule him this time.
As long as he kept those thoughts at bay, he was doing just fine, even in the presence of his wife. Her innuendos were proving distracting, however. What the devil did she think had tired him? If she wanted to know what he had been doing, why did she not just ask him? "Iwas not like her to dance about a subject, not this outspoken lady. And he sensed her upset. She appeared calm and serene on the surface, too serene, but he could feel the tension of a powerful emotion radiating from her.
"Has something happened that I should know about?" he wondered aloud.
The question seemed to baffle her. "That you should . . . You would know that better than I, my lord."
Now what did that mean? "Never mind." He sighed. "Just get on with what you wished to tell me ere I am too tired to listen."
Reina clenched her fists behind her skirt. This was not going as she had expected. Why was he not acting as he was supposed to? He knew she knew what he had done. He might have been able to come up with any number of excuses for being in Red Alma's house if Reina had not seen him with his hand pressed to the woman's large breast. That signified only one reason for being there.
Did he not care, then, that she knew? Or did he think she would not dare to upbraid him for what he had done, was confident she would not even dare to mention it? Most wives would not dare, too fearful of a beating should they complain of their husbands' wrongful behavior. Reina did not have that fear, thanks to her marriage contract, but even if she did, 'twould not stop her from reviling this man did he deserve it.
But not yet. She would first see if he was only pretending to be unconcerned.
"Very well, my lord. This will not take long, just a few decisions I need from you. First, we have had an offer to buy the wardship of the de Burgh heiress. Simon brought me the letter from one of his neighbors, a young lord he vouchsafed is capable of administering to the girl's holdings. I did not wish to mention it until all our guests had departed."
"Then your little lordling has left?"
Her mouth tightened at that derogatory tone. "Aye, Lord John left us this morn."
"I hope you bade him Godspeed for me. I am gracious, after all, to those who lose to me."
"He did not lose to you, he lost by default," she snapped. "And as he does not even know he lost, your being gracious to him on that count is superfluous. Not that he would have noticed graciousness on your part had you been present to offer it. 'Tis rather difficult to discern courtesy when you are being growled at."
"I do not growl, lady."
"If you say so," she replied sweetly, his growl ringing in her ears.
He nearly came out of his chair but caught himself, surprising her by chuckling as he leaned back again. "At least I do not squeak as your little mouse does."
"He is not a—" She clamped her mouth shut, glaring at him. "Very funny, my lord. Now may we get back to the subject at hand? The wardship?"
"How much was offered?"
"Four hundred fifty marks and two palfreys."
"Why so much?"
" 'Tis a small amount actually, when you consider the two manors, each with its own village, owe rents of a hundred and fifty marks annually, making the income from the farms considerably more than that. You must also take into account the child's age. She is not yet two years. Her wardship will continue a goodly number of years ere she is wed and the holdings given over to her husband's control. That allows for a tidy profit for whoever administers her fief.''
"Then why sell it?"
"I am not suggesting you sell it. I am not suggesting anything at all. I am mer
ely mentioning an offer that needs be answered one way or the other. But something must be done eventually. The widow has a bailiff and several knights and is managing well enough on her own, but then she has had no problems thus far."
"So you are suggesting I sell the wardship?"
"Nay, I am not," she gritted out. "Simon may know this neighbor of his, but we do not. And there are other possibilities that would benefit us better."
"I could appoint my own steward, I suppose, though stewards not closely watched are like to manipulate profits into their own pockets. Or I could betroth the child and thereby let the man govern now what will eventually be his."
Reina was surprised he did know what options he had, but he did not mention the one she wanted. "As you say, a steward cannot always be trusted. But do you betroth the child now, it must be to a man old enough to govern, and so you do them both a disservice. He must wait many years yet for his heirs, and she must eventually marry an old man, which she is not like to be happy about."
"Not if I choose Searle or Eric. The lads would be only twenty and eight ten years from now, no great tragedy to a marriageable wench."
That was true, rot him. "But you would gain only one man's service in that way, when you could have two do you arrange a marriage to the widow instead. A stepfather would have the profits of the land now, enough to buy a sizable holding of his own later for his own heirs. I have been considering Sir Arnulph for long now, but I have needed him in Birkenham, so I put the matter off."
"Tell me something, Reina. If that is what you wanted all along, why did you not just say so?"
"Then you agree?"
"I agree the widow should be married. You will allow I should meet this Sir Anulph ere I consider him?"
"Certainly."
"Good." He stood up to tower over her. "But do you get straight to the point next time you want something of me. There is no need to waste time skirting—"
"I am not finished," she cut in, bristling that he should dare to chastise her for anything just now. "There is another matter—about your cat."
"What about her?"
She called the boy forward, feeling her first hesitancy as they waited for his slow gait to reach them. But she had had one success, and so concluded that Ranulf was suffering a guilty conscience, even if he did not show it.
She did come right to the point this time. "Aylmer here has taken a liking to your pet. He works in the kitchen, but wants the added chore of caring for Lady Ella, feeding and grooming and suchlike."
"Is this another one like your Theo?" Ranulf asked her.
"I have always looked out for him, if that is what you mean. He is orphaned."
He looked down at the boy then, while she stared at him. Her uneasiness grew, even though Ranulf revealed nothing of his thoughts in his expression. She should not have risked this. She should have hidden the boy from him, rather than bring Aylmer to his attention. What if Ranulf did send him away? What could she do?
And poor Aylmer was terrified. He would not look up. She could see his thin limbs trembling. What had been galloping toward panic reared in fury. How did Ranulf dare to put the boy through this with his silence?
Reina drew her foot back with every intention of kicking her husband, when he spoke to Aylmer, and in what was a gentle tone for him. "So you like my cat, do you?"
"Aye, my lord." A mere whisper.
"See that you do not overfeed her."
It took a moment for Aylmer to realize he had the permission he wanted, and he looked up in surprise, which quickly turned to a wide grin. "Aye, my lord!"
It took Reina another moment to put her foot back on the floor. The swine, to keep them in suspense like that. Guilt. He really was wallowing in it. And as long as he was atoning, she might as well go for blood.
"Do you take Lady Ella to the kitchen now, Aylmer. Lord Ranulf has had her out with him all day, so she is like to be quite hungry." She waited until the boy had carefully picked up the cat and limped away before facing her husband again. "As long—"
"You should have warned me ere you brought him forward, lady."
She tensed defensively. "Why? Because you do not want a cripple tending your precious cat?"
"Because 'twas Lanzo's job, and he will not like being usurped by a kitchen lackey."
"Aylmer is no lackey. His parents were freeholders. When they died, no one would take the boy in or even help him. They treated him as if his lameness were a disease they might get from too close association. He was weak and sickly, and twice I nearly lost him to minor illnesses that would barely have affected a stronger child. He is small and defenseless, yet he has his pride. He will not accept charity, but works for his keep. And if he is special to me, 'tis because he has no one else."
"Who else does he need with a general in his corner?"
She ignored that. "While we are still on the subject of your cat—"
"Are we? I thought the subject was the boy."
"The boy is my concern. The cat is yours, particularly where she is to sleep. I do not like waking up with her nose in my face, as I did this morn. She should never have been allowed upstairs."
"She goes where I go, sleeps where I sleep. It has always been so."
"That was well and good when you slept in tents, my lord, but a bedchamber is no place for animals."
"And here I thought you had me in that class. Or do you mean to kick me out of the chamber, too?"
"As if you would go if I did," she snorted.
"Nay, I would not. And neither does Lady Ella
"Then we needs discuss it more."
"The subject is closed, Reina," he said, his tone warning that he meant it. "Now do you order me a bath. If you would like to join me, come along. Otherwise, I will see you at the evening meal."
She had to grit her teeth to keep from calling him back as he walked away. She was supposed to have her every request agreed to, not the least of them denied. But she had to allow that two out of three was not bad. Only if he thought he had just atoned for his infidelity, he had best think again.
Chapter Thirty
“You will feel better do you talk about it."
Reina did not answer, keeping her eyes closed as Theodric pulled the comb gently through her hair. She wished he were not so perceptive to her moods. She had said naught to him about her husband's visit to Red Alma, nor did she intend to. He would hear about it soon enough once the gossip reached the cas-tlefolk, but hopefully he would not relate that to the upset he sensed in her now. Confession might be good for the soul, but humiliation was not.
She felt like pacing, not sitting calmly on a stool. This nightly ritual was usually so soothing. Theo had the magic touch when it came to easing her tension. But her agitation was mounting, not decreasing, as it grew closer to the time Ranulf might appear.
"Did you get your legs spread again betwixt here and the village?"
"Do not be vulgar, Theo."
"Well, did you?"
"Nay, I did not," she gritted out.
He pulled her hair until her head bent back far enough so she could see him looking down at her. "Who are you wroth with, then, if not the giant?"
"Theo-"
"Tell, or I will go down and whisper in his ear that vou are eagerly awaiting him—in bed."
"Do, and you take your life in your hands," she snapped, yanking her head back down.
That hint was sufficient and he said no more. But the ensuing silence only made Reina's nerves more raw. She decided he might as well know half of it.
"You had the right man, Theo, but the wrong reason. I thought I had Ranulf s agreement that he would give Louise de Burgh to Sir Arnulph in marriage. But at supper, he told not only Searle and Eric but Walter, too, to ride over and make the widow's acquaintance."
"So?"
"So I know now he means to give her to one of them, when I as much as had his promise just this afternoon that Arnulph could have her."
"He does not strike me
as a man who would break promises lightly, Reina."
"He did not exactly promise," she said grudgingly. "But he knew I wanted the match, and he said he would consider Arnulph."
"Considering is not a firm decision, not by any means. It seems to me he is only preparing ahead does he decide against Sir Arnulph."
"You do not understand, Theo. He owes me his concurrence on this."
"How so?"
"Never mind how so, he just does," Reina said impatiently. "And Arnulph is the best man to place there. He has given us excellent service. He has proved himself most capable of such responsibility. He is deserving of a reward. And besides all that, he knows the lady and likes her, too. They are well suited."
"Ah, but what does she feel about it? Mayhap she would appreciate having more than one man to choose from."
"Since when is that a matter of importance, especially when the lady is so young?"
"Need I remind you that you were not much older than Lady de Burgh when you very logically and rationally chose John de Lascelles and Richard de Ar-court as the men you would prefer to marry of all those you had to pick from? And not only that, you changed your mind at the last moment."
"Which proves that even at ten years and seven, a woman is an idiot if she thinks she knows what is best for herself," Reina said, her tone disgruntled.
"Now, now, you know the giant is still the best choice, even if you are having your first discord with him. You cannot expect him to agree with you always, Reina, any more than your . . . father . . . would . . ."
Reina glanced up as Theo's words trailed off into silence. Ranulf had entered without a sound and stood staring at them, his expression growing darker by the second. Lanzo stood just behind him, revealing a neck red with embarrassment as he gazed up at the ceiling.
Theo cleared his throat to get Reina's attention, and when that did not work, nudged her shoulder. Only then did she realize what was causing the reaction of the two at the door. Her bedrobe had slid open down her front to expose one breast and a goodly portion of navel.
With a gasp she yanked her robe closed, then glared furiously at her husband. That this should happen once was bad enough. Twice was just too much.