Page 57 of Fortress of Snow

“No matter. A girl her age should not be worried about impressing me, someone she’s never met.”

“Well, of course she should.” Lady Bristow put both her hands on his chest now. “You will be a part of her life now that the king wishes us to marry.” She suddenly pushed away from him and started up the stairs. “After that long journey, I need to refresh myself and change my clothing. But I shall see you in an hour in the Great Hall. Howard will take you to your room and get you anything you need.”

She snapped her fingers at the young man who still stood in the hallway.

Howard stood up straight and bowed to Berenger. “This way, my lord.”

When he was certain Lady Bristow was out of earshot, he said to the young man leading the way up the stairs, “I am Sir Berenger of Dericott. And you are Howard?”

“Yes, sir.”

He still was not quite certain what had happened in the kitchen. But Lady Bristow’s explanation that she had only raised her voice because the cook was hard of hearing did not ring true. Still, he didn’t want to falsely accuse her either.

She was right when she said the king wanted them to marry. He had further elaborated his desires in a letter he sent just before Sir Berenger and Lady Bristow had departed on their journey, saying he wanted this castle in capable, loyal hands, especially since it was on the coast at a point that was easily accessible by ship.

Not only was this quite a handsome reward—a castle, lands, and a title—for the third son of an earl, a landless knight like Berenger, but it was a huge honor that the king had chosen him to control and defend this strategic castle.

He just had to marry Lady Bristow to get it, which would further endear him to the king as a loyal and dutiful ally. If the king were to come to rely on Berenger as one of his close advisers, he could only imagine the good he might be able to do—and the evil he might be able to prevent.

As he allowed the servant to fill a small tub with water so he could wash off the road dust and get clean, he thought about how Lady Bristow had greeted her young ward, Juliana. There was no warm embrace, and something in the child’s expression and manner seemed a bit concerning, almost as if she was afraid of the woman who should have been something of a mother figure to her. It stuck in his mind like a cocklebur.

He was having misgivings about whether he should marry Lady Bristow, more of a gut feeling than anything else. But if he rejected the king’s offer, he might never get another reward from him, and his refusal might even anger the king.

He needed to be really sure about this decision.

Seventeen

Berenger and Lady Bristow had just sat at the table in the Great Hall when Lady Bristow exclaimed, “There she is!”

The wide-eyed little girl he’d seen earlier came toward them wearing a lovely pink dress, her hair hanging in curls by her cheeks and over her shoulders.

“Come, come,” Lady Bristow said, motioning to the child. She picked her up and placed her in her lap. “Now, that is better, is it not? A beautiful dress, clean face. Is she not a little beauty, Sir Berenger, and nothing like the little beggar child we saw before?”

“I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Juliana. You look very pretty.” He smiled, but the child barely glanced at him. Instead, she kept her head down.

“Look up, darling, so we can see you.”

The child was sitting stiffly, with Lady Bristow’s hands onher shoulders. She lifted her head but looked on the verge of tears.

“She is learning languages with her tutor.” She leaned back to look at Juliana. “Show off what you’re learning to Sir Berenger. Say something in German or Italian.”

Juliana’s mouth turned down ever so slightly at the corners and tears welled up in her eyes. She sat very still.

“That is all right,” Berenger said, trying to sound soothing. “When you are more accustomed to me, you can tell me something of what you are learning.”

Lady Bristow frowned and shook her head.

“All is well,” Berenger assured them both. “I wouldn’t know what she was saying anyway, as I never learned German or Italian. But later I will teach Juliana some games I was taught as a boy. I think you will like them.” Berenger leaned down to try to look into the child’s eyes. She finally looked at him just as the first big tear slipped down her cheek.

Lady Bristow waved a young woman servant over and handed Juliana off to her. The servant hurried the little girl away.

“Is she not joining us for supper?” Berenger asked.

“She has her meals with her nurse. Children do not eat in the Great Hall.” She sounded as if she were explaining something to him that he couldn’t possibly know anything about.

But he happened to know that children did sometimes eat with their parents. He couldn’t imagine Delia and Strachleigh turning their children over to a servant at mealtimes. But perhaps that was how Lady Bristow had been treated as a child and she did not know any other way. Perhaps Berenger could be a goodinfluence on her, could help her learn to love and be loved, to take a more affectionate approach to her ward’s upbringing.

He rather liked thinking he could be a help to her, could rescue her from a sad life. He’d always imagined he’d rescue a woman and fall in love with her. Was Lady Bristow that woman?