Page 14 of Wed By Proxy

“Yes, I know what they say,” responded Guy swiftly. Everyone in these parts whispered that Tristan Kerslake was an active spy for the north.

“Then, he may know of her…the real one, I mean. He may even have caught a glimpse of her. On his travels,” said Firmin with meaning. “Which means he could identify this one as an imposter.”

“I doubt very much that Kerslake’s travels took him anywhere near the southern court,” Guy replied dismissively.

“You never know,” said Firmin mysteriously. “Anyway, it couldn’t hurt to ask.”

“I suppose he may,” Guy conceded grudgingly. Seeing Tristan always reminded Guy of Tristan’s sister, Julia. They looked very alike with their auburn hair and good looks. Generally, Guy avoided having to think about Julia Kerslake — or Julia Allworthy as she was now known by her married name. Firmin shot him a sympathetic look, and Guy smarted that his past disappointment was public knowledge. Still, it was all water under the bridge. He wasn’t eighteen anymore with a head full of dreams. That boy was long gone. It seemed a lot longer than thirteen years ago.

Guy stared into the distance. Sometimes, he thought, it would be nice to get away from it all. His responsibility. His people. His past. But that was something he could never do, no matter how weary he grew of both his burden and his privilege. This new complication simply added a new stick to the donkey’s back. He had to find a way to counter this possibly hostile move, to minimize the damage this female could inflict on his reputation. Already, the scene that had played out this morning in his Great Hall would likely be doing the rounds in the servant’s quarters. He had never bought a woman into his home before this. If he wasn’t careful… He drew in a sharp breath. For all he knew, the servants could be drawing the same conclusions as Waldon and Temur.

He needed to act fast. But how could he separate her from his own household? He thought fleetingly of the Dower House. But placing her there would also give rise to gossip. She was no kinswoman of his, so there could be no legitimate reason for settling her there. Think Guy, think! And suddenly it flashed into his mind. He remembered the old hunting lodge deep in the forest. He hadn’t thought of the place in years.

“The old hunting lodge,” he said aloud. “The one my father built.”

“Aye,” said Firmin cautiously.

“It still stands?”

Firmin gave a short nod of assent. “It does,” he said gruffly.

Guy brooded in silence a moment. “What if I were to take her there,” he said slowly, speaking his thoughts aloud. “And keep her sequestered there, away from everyone. Until I’m sure of her. That we have proof either way.”

Firmin gave him a searching look. “There could be some merit to your suggestion,” he said, clearing his throat. “We certainly don’t want her here,” he said sourly. “She’s sown nothing but discord here this morn.”

Guy felt an inexplicable burst of irritation with his steward. “If her claims are true,” he retorted, striving for a mild tone, but even he could hear the edge to his voice. “Then she has every reason to be here.”

Firmin gave a wave of his hand. “Her claims are preposterous, Guy!” he spluttered. “Nay, I’ll never believe such a thing.” He paced over by the window, and Guy found his thoughts turning once again to the enticing little maiden with her fair skin and curling hair. Firmin was right. It was preposterous to think she could be his marchioness. “I would like that above all things,” she had said of bearing his baby. His baby. His breath quickened. How she had the nerve to sit naked in his bed and say such a thing was beyond him. To a man such as he? She ought to be cringing and terrified at the idea of such a great brute touching her tender little body. Not giving him an open invitation! Again, unbidden, he thought of her bruised feet. The carter trampled me, she had said matter of factly. He wanted to kill that fucking carter. Slowly.

“Guy?” Firmin was speaking again. Guy turned his head quickly. “You have every right to be angry at her deception,” his friend cautioned. “But we must ensure no harm befalls her, or you’ll doubtless pay a high price.” It seemed Firmin had misinterpreted his angry looks, imagining it was directed toward the small female. The idea brought him up short. Firmin’s words were annoying him, but hers hadn’t. Hers had stopped him in his tracks.

“Perhaps you’re onto something,” Firmin continued slowly, oblivious to Guy’s conflicted mood. “Maybe removing her to some remote spot is a good notion. After all, only servants have seen her so far. None have heard her false claims save yourself. It would be unwise to allow her to remain here, stirring up trouble for us all.” Again, despite the fact Firmin only echoed his own thoughts, Guy found himself having to fight down a stinging retort. Firmin was his most trusted friend and advisor. Right now, his every word grated on him. Why was that?

“The hunting lodge is remote enough,” he forced himself to say. “Though probably in some disrepair. She’ll need a servant or two to accompany her there.”

“She can take her young friend with her,” said Firmin in a generous tone that annoyed Guy, considering the lad was not part of their household to bestow.

“He’s not a servant,” he pointed out sharply. “He’ll likely have to return to his own people soon.”

“His people?” asked Firmin, looking up with swift concern.

“He’s the son of a knight. Sir Edward Geddings.” Or was it Edgar? Guy wasn’t sure.

Firmin looked a little taken aback, but quickly rallied. “I would take every word that falls from their lips with a pinch of salt,” he said curling his lip. “They’re a pair of liars.”

“Firmin,” Guy said with sudden curtness. “Watch your step.” Firmin opened his mouth, but Guy stopped him with an abrupt gesture. “If there’s even a remote chance she could turn out to be who she says she is…”

Guy had left his warning unspoken, but Firmin hesitated, and colored slightly. “I take your meaning,” he said a little stiffly.

Guy sat back in his chair. “Leave me now,” he said in dismissal. “Send Waldon back in to me.”

Firmin shot him an incredulous look. “You’ll need me here in order to plan,” he protested.

“No.” Guy had made up his mind. “I’ll oversee this personally.”

He made a great show of opening and closing the drawer to his desk, ignoring the heavy silence before Firmin took his leave. Doubtless Firmin’s nose was out of joint over the business, but he’d get over it. Guy just knew he couldn’t listen to his overt hostility toward the wench. For some reason he found it intolerable. He had to remain cautious and on his guard, but he expected everyone else to treat her with deference. For now.

Moments later Waldon shuffled in, a wary look in his light blue eyes. Swiftly Guy outlined his plan to take the lady Mathilde to the old hunting lodge. He did not specify who she was to Waldon, but likely the man had his own suspicions. “We’ll need provisions,” he said. “The place has been shut up for at least four years.”