comes.”
He didn’t mention how much more difficult his wife’s death six years earlier had made things. No use dwelling on that painful subject.
“Bonhomme, just one reminder, for the other servants,” Hugh said. “Our guests are all Saxons, as you know. They must feel no discomfort here. They have endured much, and all at the hands of Normans.”
“Don’t worry, milord Hugh. I’ve already spoken to everyone. They won’t encounter those kinds of Normans here.”
Hugh slapped the faithful seneschal on the back. “Good man!”
“ La Cuisinière has all in readiness when you want the evening meal to begin in the Great Hall.”
Hugh rubbed his hands together and licked his lips. “My mouth waters already at the mention of her name!”
CHAPTER NINE
On the one hand, Renouf hadn’t looked forward to returning to England. Though his visits to his family were fraught with arguments and confrontations, he nevertheless felt more at home in Malbadon. His roots were there. It was where he belonged.
On the other hand, he longed to return to Melton, to run his hands over Devona’s lush breasts, to feel her mouth on his shaft, to see the fear in her eyes. The mere thought of it roused him. At Melton he could drink fine wine to his heart’s content, eat as much rich food as he wished, issue orders and have them obeyed, all without censure. In Melton he was lord of the demesne , whereas in Malbadon—
He’d thought of leaving early, but that would have precipitated another row, so he’d departed on schedule. Now as his longboat neared the English shore, he could hardly wait. He hoped Torod had kept careful watch over his manor in his absence. Things might get tricky with a new overlord snooping around.
Not to worry. The ugly toad is terrified of me. He knows the consequences of failure .
Renouf knew as soon as he saw one of his mercenaries waiting at the landing that something was wrong.
“What is it, Pascal?” he asked as he jumped off the longboat. “Where’s Torod?”
“Gone, milord ,” the man answered nervously.
“Speak more plainly. Where has he gone?”
“We don’t know. None have seen him since two mornings since. He went off to collect rents—and—”
“And what? I’m getting impatient.”
“We—the men—we all fell asleep—after the meal—midday—”
“Fell asleep?”
“We think we were poisoned. We flogged the cook and the servants, but none will confess.”
A feeling of foreboding was insinuating itself into Renouf’s breast. “Poisoned? By whom? Who else is missing?”
The man was plainly nervous to be the bearer of the next piece of information. He’d obviously drawn the short straw.
“The—Saxons,” Pascal stammered.
“Which Saxons,” Renouf asked, his voice dripping ice.
“Your lady wife, milord —and her—family—and those cursed dogs.”
“I don’t care about the bloody hounds,” Renouf spat with fury. By now he’d retrieved his horse and mounted. “And Torod’s is the hand behind this escape? I think not. The man has the brains of a flea.”
“I don’t know, milord , but we can’t find him anywhere.”
Renouf snorted. “Likely dead, killed by the Montbryce brothers. Who else would have the temerity to invade my home and kidnap my wife?”
Pascal had remounted and now rode alongside his master. “Their steward did come to speak with Torod.”
Renouf was startled. “From where?”
“I think their manor at East Preston.”
“The derelict?”
“They’re reopening it.”
Renouf picked up the pace. “What of the madwoman, and the old man?”
The youth swallowed hard. “All gone, milord .”
“And no one saw them go? How could they have fled? Did they take horses?”
“Only one mount is missing. Torod’s.”
“So whoever killed him took his horse. But how did the others escape? And where did they go? Our first stop will be East Preston.” He urged his horse to a gallop
***
Théobald Cormant was feeling pleased with
He didn’t mention how much more difficult his wife’s death six years earlier had made things. No use dwelling on that painful subject.
“Bonhomme, just one reminder, for the other servants,” Hugh said. “Our guests are all Saxons, as you know. They must feel no discomfort here. They have endured much, and all at the hands of Normans.”
“Don’t worry, milord Hugh. I’ve already spoken to everyone. They won’t encounter those kinds of Normans here.”
Hugh slapped the faithful seneschal on the back. “Good man!”
“ La Cuisinière has all in readiness when you want the evening meal to begin in the Great Hall.”
Hugh rubbed his hands together and licked his lips. “My mouth waters already at the mention of her name!”
CHAPTER NINE
On the one hand, Renouf hadn’t looked forward to returning to England. Though his visits to his family were fraught with arguments and confrontations, he nevertheless felt more at home in Malbadon. His roots were there. It was where he belonged.
On the other hand, he longed to return to Melton, to run his hands over Devona’s lush breasts, to feel her mouth on his shaft, to see the fear in her eyes. The mere thought of it roused him. At Melton he could drink fine wine to his heart’s content, eat as much rich food as he wished, issue orders and have them obeyed, all without censure. In Melton he was lord of the demesne , whereas in Malbadon—
He’d thought of leaving early, but that would have precipitated another row, so he’d departed on schedule. Now as his longboat neared the English shore, he could hardly wait. He hoped Torod had kept careful watch over his manor in his absence. Things might get tricky with a new overlord snooping around.
Not to worry. The ugly toad is terrified of me. He knows the consequences of failure .
Renouf knew as soon as he saw one of his mercenaries waiting at the landing that something was wrong.
“What is it, Pascal?” he asked as he jumped off the longboat. “Where’s Torod?”
“Gone, milord ,” the man answered nervously.
“Speak more plainly. Where has he gone?”
“We don’t know. None have seen him since two mornings since. He went off to collect rents—and—”
“And what? I’m getting impatient.”
“We—the men—we all fell asleep—after the meal—midday—”
“Fell asleep?”
“We think we were poisoned. We flogged the cook and the servants, but none will confess.”
A feeling of foreboding was insinuating itself into Renouf’s breast. “Poisoned? By whom? Who else is missing?”
The man was plainly nervous to be the bearer of the next piece of information. He’d obviously drawn the short straw.
“The—Saxons,” Pascal stammered.
“Which Saxons,” Renouf asked, his voice dripping ice.
“Your lady wife, milord —and her—family—and those cursed dogs.”
“I don’t care about the bloody hounds,” Renouf spat with fury. By now he’d retrieved his horse and mounted. “And Torod’s is the hand behind this escape? I think not. The man has the brains of a flea.”
“I don’t know, milord , but we can’t find him anywhere.”
Renouf snorted. “Likely dead, killed by the Montbryce brothers. Who else would have the temerity to invade my home and kidnap my wife?”
Pascal had remounted and now rode alongside his master. “Their steward did come to speak with Torod.”
Renouf was startled. “From where?”
“I think their manor at East Preston.”
“The derelict?”
“They’re reopening it.”
Renouf picked up the pace. “What of the madwoman, and the old man?”
The youth swallowed hard. “All gone, milord .”
“And no one saw them go? How could they have fled? Did they take horses?”
“Only one mount is missing. Torod’s.”
“So whoever killed him took his horse. But how did the others escape? And where did they go? Our first stop will be East Preston.” He urged his horse to a gallop
***
Théobald Cormant was feeling pleased with
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