Page 55 of Fortress of Snow

“It is always so good to see you looking so well,” Martin said, placing his hand on his heart. “When I think of what might have happened, how you could have been hurt or even worse...”Martin sighed dramatically. “You should marry me and let me watch over you.”

Sir Berenger was looking at them, his expression going slack. He seemed to recover from his surprise and turned to face Martin.

“Sir Berenger, this is Martin Fisher. Martin, Sir Berenger is in charge of the king’s guards.”

“Thank you for your service to our king,” Martin said, nodding to Sir Berenger, then eyeing him as if wondering why he was there.

Sir Berenger looked from Martin to Mazy and back again. She was fairly certain he had heard Martin say that she should marry him. He looked as if he might speak to Martin, but then he took a step back.

“I shall go,” Sir Berenger said. “Fare well, Mazy and Ro. I shall see you when I return.”

Why bother? You’ll be married to someone wealthy by then, someone who can make you a landowner.

“Fare well, Sir Berenger.” Mazy forced herself to smile and wave as if she were happy and his news had not affected her in the least.

As Sir Berenger turned his back and walked away, her chest ached.

“Are you well, Mazy?” Martin asked.

“Perfectly well. Did you want anything, Martin?” she asked a little brusquely.

“I only wanted to look in on you.”

“We haven’t a care in the world. How are you faring?”

Just then two customers came to buy bread. Martin, thankfully, took his leave. When the customers had gone, Ro turned to her with a woebegone look.

“Oh, Mazy.” Ro sank down on a stool inside their stall and stared at her. “I thought Sir Berenger would marry you.”

“I knew he could never marry me. I’ve told you that, Ro. You should not have been thinking that.” But until this moment she had not realized how much she had been hoping... hoping against all reason that Sir Berenger would marry her.

O God, let her treat him well. Let her love him. I couldn’t bear it if he were tied to a wife who was cruel to him.She knew he would never be cruel or faithless, no matter what his wife did to him. Sir Berenger was the best and noblest man Mazy had ever known.

Even now, though she felt hurt that he was marrying someone else, she had nothing to accuse him of or blame him for. Sir Berenger had behaved with nothing but kindness and chivalry. He couldn’t know that she’d been hoping he would marry her.

And he would always be her ideal of what a man should be.

Berenger and a handful of soldiers, along with Lady Bristow and her servants, set out on their journey to Suffolk. The road was not bad, only a little muddy, as the first snow had fallen and then melted quickly, so they were able to travel at a steady rate.

Lady Bristow talked less than he had expected, which gave Berenger more time to be alone with his thoughts. He couldn’tget out of his mind the man at the market who had been talking to Mazy. He’d sounded as if he had asked her to marry him before and she had refused. He tried to remember the look on Mazy’s face. Had she been receptive to his proposals? Would she eventually say yes?

These thoughts made him sad and unsettled. He wished now he had stayed and questioned the man, found out what kind of man he was and if he could provide for her. But Mazy probably would have told him it was none of his business and that he had no right to ask such questions, which was true. But he was her friend, was he not?

He seemed to have two minds. One minute his thoughts were of a sober, apprehensive bent, as he wondered if he was making a mistake. The next minute he was of a hopeful mind, dreaming of having his own lands and castle and tenants, imagining passing his title of earl down to his son.

Mazy. Always Mazy was there in his thoughts as well. But why? She was Sir John’s sister, and she was Delia’s friend, but she was also his friend, and he cared what happened to her. It was foolish to feel as though he was letting her down by marrying a woman who was... Well, he had nothing to accuse her of, but there was something about her, something bold and a little less than circumspect. He couldn’t help remembering how she had looked at him when they met, similar to the way lascivious men looked at a pretty woman in the street.

What did he truly know about Lady Bristow? She had singled him out when she knew nothing about him, but why? He should feel flattered, he supposed. Perhaps she knew moreabout him than he realized. Perhaps she was a good woman. Why should he think less of her just because she was flirtatious? She was nothing like Delia or Mazy, but did that mean she was not a good woman?

This was why he was going to Suffolk to Bristow Castle, to see Lady Bristow in her own home around her servants, to see how she treated people, to see if a marriage with her was possible. After all, she was beautiful. Anyone would think so.

His mind went to Mazy and how she had looked when he told her he was possibly going to be marrying a widow for her lands, property, and title.

She was disappointed in him. But she quickly changed her expression and told him she was happy for him. She smiled, but what was she really thinking? That he was greedy and grasping?

Berenger almost wished he could introduce the two women so he could get Mazy’s opinion of her. But at the same time, something inside rebelled at that thought.

Two minds? He seemed to be of half a dozen minds at least.