Page 62 of Bold Angel
“She would have made a man a fine wife,” Caryn said, watching him from beneath her lashes.
“A gentler man than I,” he said. “I like my women with fire in their veins.” He bent his head and kissed her, a lusty kiss that told her what he was thinking. Knowing it was she that Ral wanted and not her more beautiful sister, Caryn breathed a sigh of relief.
It was with a lighter heart and a fresh hope for the future that she said good-bye to Gweneth, and together with her husband and his men, left the convent to return to the castle.
***
Rain battered the cold gray stone of Braxston Keep, draughts of chilly air crept in, and the men moved restlessly about the hall. Richard worried that an argument might ensue, should the weather not break soon, but so far there had been only a few ruffled feathers.
The midday meal of mutton and rabbit stew had just ended, yet Lord Ral remained on the dais, speaking with Odo about an upcoming trip the red-haired knight would soon be making to France, about the Ferret and problems that might lie ahead. Richard left them there, intending to return to his duties, knowing he had much to do. Geoffrey stopped him at the edge of the dais, pointing his finger toward a messenger standing in the entry.
Richard followed Geoffrey there, curious and a little uneasy that something grave might be wrong. He greeted the man briefly and accepted the message, then returned to the great hall and headed straight for the platform.
“The king’s messenger, my lord.” Richard climbed the stairs, capturing the men’s attention as he carried the wax-sealed missive to the table. “The man has declined to stay. He remains only long enough to be certain his message is delivered.”
“Open it,” Ral said.
Richard did as he was bade, scanning the text, his insides growing tighter with every word. “Trouble farther to the north, my lord. William asks that you and as many men as you can spare join him in the field outside Caanan. Even now he lays siege to Caanan Castle.”
“Lord Arnaut. ’Twas thought for some time that he could not be trusted.” The dark Norman’s fist slammed down on the table. “Christ’s blood, will this fighting never cease?”
Though the Lord Ral had never shirked his duty or tried to pay the scutage to keep from having to serve,Richard knew how much he loathed the slaying of men in battle.
“’Tis the way of men, it seems,” Richard said. “Until they learn how bitter the price of war, they are only too willing to pay in blood for the chance at victory.”
Lord Ral nodded. “’Tis an unfortunate truth you speak.” He sighed and glanced toward the stairs. “I trust you will keep things well in hand here.”
“Of course, my lord.” Following the line of the tall Norman’s gaze, he smiled. “I believe she will miss you.”
A corner of Ral’s mouth curved up. It was obvious the notion pleased him. “I will make certain of it.” Shoving back his chair, he left the dais, stopping to speak to Odo, who would relay his instructions to the men. Then he strode across the room and climbed the stairs.
Richard watched his ascent with a small grain of envy. Already Lady Caryn had come to care for him. Richard could see it in her eyes whenever she looked in her husband’s direction. ’Twas something to consider, this taking of a bride. Even Odo had made mention of the finding of a woman, of a marriage and the raising of sons.
Richard frowned at the notion. ’Twould be unfair to a woman, should he take her to wife. He had too much to do and too few hours in a day to see it done. Then again, what did it matter? There had been no woman he had found appealing—save for an occasional moment of pleasure—and he had no time in which to seek one out.
Richard grumbled to himself then set the thought away. Crossing the hall, he headed toward the chamber where he worked on his ledgers. Lord Ral needed coin to repay his debt to the moneylenders. ’Twas his duty to see from whence it might come. Then there was the cleaning, which was long overdue, and the stores to see to, and the feast days which must be observed, and the gardening to begin, and—the list went on and on.
Yet he wasn’t complaining. He was needed here at Braxston, and he had made the castle his home.
Returning to the heavy wooden table where the ledgers sat open, Richard sat down with a weary sigh and went back to work.
***
Ral had been gone three days when the boredom—and worry—and Caryn’s newly altered status as Lord Ral’s accepted wife sent her marching down the stairs.
“I would speak with you, Richard,” she called out through his open chamber door.
“Of course, Lady Caryn.” He rose from the seat behind his desk, stacked high with ledgers, documents, and petitions. “What is it, my lady?”
She sat down across from him in a high-backed chair fashioned of wood and leather. “Do you think the fighting will go well?”
Richard sat back down at his desk. “The king has strong forces behind him. Not only Lord Ral joins them, but Stephen de Montreale.”
Still she was worried about him, more every day. She sighed. “I am tired of this weather.”
“As am I,” Richard said. He studied her a moment then carefully asked, “What is it, my lady? Is there something you need?”
Caryn forced herself to smile. “’Tis simple, Richard. Now that I am Lord Ral’s wife in truth, I would have you teach me the duties of chatelaine.”
