the woodshed, something in him had changed. ’Twould seem he had a problem.
He stabbed forcefully into his food, leftover stew from the previous evening meal. William wondered what it was about his enemy’s daughter—his wife—that attracted him so much. Like flowers that followed the sun’s path through the day, so did his attention on Madeline. Next, he would be spouting poetry to the delectable woman like some lovelorn court bard.
Although he cursed to admit it, he constantly looked for her. He checked with Sir Alex or his steward that she was safe and being well cared for at all times. His wife, with her easy manners and delightful charm, wooed everyone she met. It was no surprise even his soldiers at Kingston Castle had succumbed to her charms and now worshipped wherever she walked. She was a natural-born leader, one everyone wanted to know, and one from whom everyone sought advice.
Although not once had she sought his council on any matter pertaining to her ancestral home. Madeline certainly seemed able to get along well enough, when away from him. It was only when they were together that their joint animosity came to the fore, livid as ever. His, from the sheer frustration of her not needing him, and because he did not know what he wanted any longer. And hers, it seemed, because she could not stand him, no matter what her kisses told.
He pushed his plate away, having no taste for the fare before him. He sighed, tired from his constant thoughts and the strained conversations with Madeline. A half smile lifted his lips as he remembered some past disagreements. Fire and ice described his wife. Strong and demanding, just like her deceased father. And he could not but be proud of how she stood up for herself with him. In fact, she was the first ever to have done so. He looked across the hall and noticed Sir Alex stride out into the courtyard. William stood and followed him, not for the first time wondering if there was something between his wife and most trusted knight. His hand fisted at his side, his other clasped the hilt of his sword. Did they dare?
*
Maddie placed a bucket of water on top of the village well, and laughed with the other ladies who helped fill the barrels for the apple bobbing contest to be held tomorrow. The men were busy measuring where the archery contest would take place. Maddie had suggested a small area, which sat at the end of the outer bailey’s wall. There were still small drifts of late snow on some of the shaded areas within the walls but here was clear and green. A large pile of wood was stacked together with rushes, signalling the location of the bonfire for the night’s dancing and celebrations. Hessian bags for the children’s jump race lay folded, checked and ready, along with rope for the adults’ competitions. The people seemed carefree and happy, welcoming and loyal. An overwhelming sense of belonging and companionship filled her.
“M’lady, ye should not be out here, helping us as ye are. As much as we’re grateful and all, it isn’t fittin’.”
Maddie laughed as she picked up her third bucket. “Its fine, Annie, I don’t mind. Besides the festivities are in celebration of my marriage to Lord William. And, in any case, there is so much to be done; I couldn’t in all good conscience leave it to everyone else.”
“Well, we’re happy to have your help, Lady Madeline. And so glad you’re home amongst us as well,” Beth replied, while she scooped some snow into her hand and flicked Annie with it. “Even if Annie here thinks otherwise.”
Maddie watched as an affronted Annie placed her bucket on the ground, and threw her own handful of snow against Beth. “I didn’t mean no disrespect to Lady Madeline,” she replied. Beth gasped when the cold snow hit her directly in the face.
Madeline smiled at the girls’ good-humored banter. “No offense taken, Annie, and thank you, Beth,” she said as she made her own snow pile on top of the stone well.
The women
He stabbed forcefully into his food, leftover stew from the previous evening meal. William wondered what it was about his enemy’s daughter—his wife—that attracted him so much. Like flowers that followed the sun’s path through the day, so did his attention on Madeline. Next, he would be spouting poetry to the delectable woman like some lovelorn court bard.
Although he cursed to admit it, he constantly looked for her. He checked with Sir Alex or his steward that she was safe and being well cared for at all times. His wife, with her easy manners and delightful charm, wooed everyone she met. It was no surprise even his soldiers at Kingston Castle had succumbed to her charms and now worshipped wherever she walked. She was a natural-born leader, one everyone wanted to know, and one from whom everyone sought advice.
Although not once had she sought his council on any matter pertaining to her ancestral home. Madeline certainly seemed able to get along well enough, when away from him. It was only when they were together that their joint animosity came to the fore, livid as ever. His, from the sheer frustration of her not needing him, and because he did not know what he wanted any longer. And hers, it seemed, because she could not stand him, no matter what her kisses told.
He pushed his plate away, having no taste for the fare before him. He sighed, tired from his constant thoughts and the strained conversations with Madeline. A half smile lifted his lips as he remembered some past disagreements. Fire and ice described his wife. Strong and demanding, just like her deceased father. And he could not but be proud of how she stood up for herself with him. In fact, she was the first ever to have done so. He looked across the hall and noticed Sir Alex stride out into the courtyard. William stood and followed him, not for the first time wondering if there was something between his wife and most trusted knight. His hand fisted at his side, his other clasped the hilt of his sword. Did they dare?
*
Maddie placed a bucket of water on top of the village well, and laughed with the other ladies who helped fill the barrels for the apple bobbing contest to be held tomorrow. The men were busy measuring where the archery contest would take place. Maddie had suggested a small area, which sat at the end of the outer bailey’s wall. There were still small drifts of late snow on some of the shaded areas within the walls but here was clear and green. A large pile of wood was stacked together with rushes, signalling the location of the bonfire for the night’s dancing and celebrations. Hessian bags for the children’s jump race lay folded, checked and ready, along with rope for the adults’ competitions. The people seemed carefree and happy, welcoming and loyal. An overwhelming sense of belonging and companionship filled her.
“M’lady, ye should not be out here, helping us as ye are. As much as we’re grateful and all, it isn’t fittin’.”
Maddie laughed as she picked up her third bucket. “Its fine, Annie, I don’t mind. Besides the festivities are in celebration of my marriage to Lord William. And, in any case, there is so much to be done; I couldn’t in all good conscience leave it to everyone else.”
“Well, we’re happy to have your help, Lady Madeline. And so glad you’re home amongst us as well,” Beth replied, while she scooped some snow into her hand and flicked Annie with it. “Even if Annie here thinks otherwise.”
Maddie watched as an affronted Annie placed her bucket on the ground, and threw her own handful of snow against Beth. “I didn’t mean no disrespect to Lady Madeline,” she replied. Beth gasped when the cold snow hit her directly in the face.
Madeline smiled at the girls’ good-humored banter. “No offense taken, Annie, and thank you, Beth,” she said as she made her own snow pile on top of the stone well.
The women
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