Bride Of Trouville. Lyn Stone

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СКАЧАТЬ Anne grabbed his arm and hung on as he rushed past her. “Wait! There’s no time!” Then she released him and put the fingers of one hand to her lips, emitting a sharp, earsplitting whistle. Then another.

      The lad turned. For an instant, he wavered, arms wind-milling before he finally caught his balance. Edouard’s heart stopped. He envisioned the broken little body lying in a heap on the other side of the wall.

      Anne beckoned frantically and the agile little fellow scrambled down. No one in the bailey moved as they watched the boy tear heedlessly along the open wall-walk, a narrow path of rough wooden planks protected on one side by the stone wall to which they were attached. On the other lay an unguarded drop of some sixty feet. A collective groan emerged from the crowd as he reached the steps and clambered down.

      Lady Anne sank to her knees in the dirt. Edouard marched forward and grasped the boy by his shoulders. He could not stop the flow of harsh reprimands. “Do you see what you have done, you reckless lackwit? Look at your lady! She is nigh in a faint with worry you would break your foolish neck!”

      He shook the little beggar sharply and then dragged him before Lady Anne by the scruff of his neck. An old hound rushed forward, growling, but the boy silenced him with an upraised palm. Ignoring the dog, Edouard forced the boy to his knees in front of her. “Apologize at once!”

      Edouard could not bear the pale fright that stole Anne’s calm, the leftover terror in her soft gray eyes. Neither could the lad, apparently. With a look of absolute contrition and the most gentle of gestures, the grubby young hands cupped her face and patted. When he removed them, there were streaks of dirt along her cheeks, mingling with the wetness of her tears.

      Her lips firmed and her eyes narrowed. “To my solar with you! Go!” she demanded. She did not shout, but clipped each word distinctly in a low tone that did not bode well for the little daredevil’s backside, Edouard thought. The boy and the old hound trudged off as ordered, heads down and contrite.

      He took her arm and raised her up. “You are extremely overset, my lady. Shall I deal with him for you?”

      “No!” she exclaimed with a lift of her head. “He would not comprehend you—your French.”

      Edouard raised his brows at that. “I know my English. But I had no mind to do much speaking. The rascal is incredibly heedless and he needs be taught a lesson.”

      She pierced him with a look of the purest hatred he had ever seen. “Beat anyone who belongs to me and I will kill you!”

      Before her shocking words registered, she had whirled angrily away from him and followed the boy around the side of the keep.

      “Father, did you hear? She threatened you!” Henri whispered in awe.

      “Yes, I heard. Apparently Lady Anne is very protective of her people.” A good thing to be, Edouard supposed, but her vehemence seemed unwarranted. “Go along, Henri, and finish your meal. You have sword practice in half an hour.”

      Sir Gui approached as Henri left. “My lord, I need a private word with you.”

      “What’s amiss, Gui?”

      The knight fell in step with Edouard as they walked slowly back to the keep. “I overheard the lady. You should take her threat seriously, you know.”

      Edouard laughed. “And why is that? You think her able to follow through?”

      Sir Gui hesitated only briefly before speaking. “Yes, my lord. The people here are different than we are used to. Rough, not quite civilized, I think, and more prone to violence. Her first husband died under very peculiar circumstances. By her own hand, they say.”

      Edouard halted. “Who spouts such rumors? I would have his name. His tongue, too, if he cannot keep it still.”

      “I cannot give his name, for I do not know it. Last eve I slept in the stables instead of the barracks. My mount seemed ill and off his feed, so I took the empty stall near his. I awoke late in the night when I heard two men speaking together in low voices, as though secrets passed between them. One laughed and asked the other if he thought the French count might also succumb to the old lord’s ague in due time.”

      “And the answer?” Edouard demanded.

      “Most likely, so the other man said, for the lady suffered too long before discovering the solution to her problem. Now she had found it, the man declared, and it would be no great trick for her to solve this one. If that means she killed her first lord, she might have the same plan for you!”

      The silence drew out between them while Edouard considered the probability of truth in the exchange. He knew well the power of gossip. When anyone died in a manner that left doubt as to the reason, the remaining spouse always became suspect. Never mind that there was no motive, no proof, no shred of evidence.

      Edouard himself had been a victim of that particular occurrence, not once but twice.

      But the fact remained, Lady Anne had just warned him outright that she would kill him if he usurped her power to discipline her people. A strong reaction for the mere shaking of a stable lad.

      The look she wore when she said it spoke of passion far more intense than he had suspected she possessed. He could direct that surprising fervor, however, and make it a positive thing between them. Despite that intensity, he could not believe Anne capable of murder.

      “Speak to no one of what you heard, Gui. I doubt me there is reason to put any credence to it.”

      “Doubt if you must, my lord, but do not discount it altogether, eh? She thinks this place and these people are still hers, not yours. Even the tamest bitch grows dangerous when you manhandle her pups.”

      “You court death yourself with that comparison!” Edouard warned, his hand automatically gripping his sword.

      Gui backed away, hands up. “No disrespect! I but meant to make a point. A poor choice of words. I apologize.”

      Edouard knew he had overreacted. “Very well, then. Take charge of Henri when he comes out. He needs work on his parry.”

      “Gladly, my lord.” Sir Gui paused and risked another warning. “You will have a care? Finding another such generous lord would not be an easy task.”

      Generous? Edouard wondered what had fostered that compliment. Gui had not yet proved himself worthy enough to gather any special rewards. Nor was he likely to, given that loose tongue of his. “Of course, Gui. I am ever aware.”

      Chapter Three

      

      

      Edouard climbed the rough wooden steps and entered the hall. The reckless stable lad, the hound, a priest, and Lady Anne were just exiting the solar. She rushed forward to meet him as the others headed toward the kitchens. “My lord, I must apologize for my hasty words. There is no excuse—”

      “Do not trouble yourself, Anne. I understand how worried you were about that boy.” He smiled down at her, feeling again that powerful need to restore her quiescence. “If you have the same concern for all your folk. I should imagine they adore you.”

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