lightened slightly.
She stepped forward and pressed her lips to Garr’s cheek. “All is well, Brother. Think on it no more.” She looked to her mother. “Shall we collect my niece and go to the garden?”
The worry in Lady Isobel’s eyes waned. “It seems a good way to pass the hour.”
Shortly, Gaenor, her mother, and Garr and Annyn’s three-year-old daughter lay on their backs exclaiming over the pictures that God formed from the clouds.
CHAPTER NINE
“Y ou are happy,” Gaenor mused.
Beatrix smiled. “I am very happy.”
“Then I rejoice with you.” Gaenor looked out across the hall. “Married…” As she herself would soon be. “Michael seems a good man.” She settled her gaze on him where he stood in the midst of the celebration alongside her second brother, Everard, who laughed at something Garr said. Then the entire group was laughing, including Annyn who cradled her infant son.
Beatrix sighed. “Aye, Michael is a good man.”
Gaenor laid a hand over her sister’s. “You are most blessed.”
“As you shall be.”
Gaenor laughed and hated that it sounded forced. “You have to say that to me,” she said, trying to tease away the uncertainty that had attempted to gain a foothold on her since her witnessing of Beatrix and Michael D’Arci’s vows.
“Aye, but it is also true.” Beatrix leaned toward her. “Christian Lavonne—”
“Did not come.” No sooner were the words spoken than Gaenor regretted her sharp tone.
After a long moment, Beatrix said, “Tell me of your stay at Wulfen Castle.”
“As already told, our brother, Everard, mostly kept me confined to a tower room in the donjon.”
“Then you saw no men other than our brother and the knights a-assigned to your needs?”
Gaenor averted her gaze. “From my window, I sometimes watched the young men train.”
“Hmm. Methinks you are not telling all.”
Hating how perceptive Beatrix was, Gaenor weighed the risk of revealing her meetings with Sir Matthew. In the end, she said, “’Tis true, but naught can come of what I do not tell.”
“Mayhap I can help.”
“You cannot. Regardless of my own wishes, I shall soon wed Baron Lavonne.”
Beatrix moved nearer. “Is there someone else? Another you would wed?”
Gaenor startled and immediately tried to disguise her reaction with a shrug. “I did meet a knight at Wulfen, but I hardly know him well enough to wish marriage.”
“How well do you know him?”
“We…talked. In the chapel. That is where I met him.”
Beatrix made a sound of surprise. “Surely you were not allowed to attend mass with the men?”
“Of course not. I went only after they were done that I might have the chapel to myself.”
“Then how—?”
“He was there one day when I thought myself alone.”
“When he should have been training pages and squires?”
Gaenor shook her head. “He was not one of our brother’s men. He was a visiting knight.”
“Truly? How long did he visit?”
Beginning to wish she had not confided, Gaenor said, “More than a month, though I did not meet him until a fortnight past.”
“For what purpose was he at Wulfen?”
“Abel and Everard were training him.”
“A knight?” Beatrix exclaimed. “A man who has already earned his spurs?”
She should have said naught.
As if sensing Gaenor’s unease, Beatrix said, “Of course, you are surely relieved to be returned to Stern Castle.”
Gaenor lifted her goblet and sipped at the warm wine.
“Wulfen Castle must have been t-t-” Beatrix’s search for the word caused Gaenor to wince. “It must have been tedious.”
Gaenor lowered the goblet. “Do you forgive me, Beatrix?”
“For what?”
“For the ill words I spoke the day King Henry delivered his decree that a Wulfrith wed a Lavonne and it was determined that I would be the one? More, for what happened to you—what would not have happened had you not drawn the king’s men away from me and Sir Durand?”
“Gaenor—”
“I thought
She stepped forward and pressed her lips to Garr’s cheek. “All is well, Brother. Think on it no more.” She looked to her mother. “Shall we collect my niece and go to the garden?”
The worry in Lady Isobel’s eyes waned. “It seems a good way to pass the hour.”
Shortly, Gaenor, her mother, and Garr and Annyn’s three-year-old daughter lay on their backs exclaiming over the pictures that God formed from the clouds.
CHAPTER NINE
“Y ou are happy,” Gaenor mused.
Beatrix smiled. “I am very happy.”
“Then I rejoice with you.” Gaenor looked out across the hall. “Married…” As she herself would soon be. “Michael seems a good man.” She settled her gaze on him where he stood in the midst of the celebration alongside her second brother, Everard, who laughed at something Garr said. Then the entire group was laughing, including Annyn who cradled her infant son.
Beatrix sighed. “Aye, Michael is a good man.”
Gaenor laid a hand over her sister’s. “You are most blessed.”
“As you shall be.”
Gaenor laughed and hated that it sounded forced. “You have to say that to me,” she said, trying to tease away the uncertainty that had attempted to gain a foothold on her since her witnessing of Beatrix and Michael D’Arci’s vows.
“Aye, but it is also true.” Beatrix leaned toward her. “Christian Lavonne—”
“Did not come.” No sooner were the words spoken than Gaenor regretted her sharp tone.
After a long moment, Beatrix said, “Tell me of your stay at Wulfen Castle.”
“As already told, our brother, Everard, mostly kept me confined to a tower room in the donjon.”
“Then you saw no men other than our brother and the knights a-assigned to your needs?”
Gaenor averted her gaze. “From my window, I sometimes watched the young men train.”
“Hmm. Methinks you are not telling all.”
Hating how perceptive Beatrix was, Gaenor weighed the risk of revealing her meetings with Sir Matthew. In the end, she said, “’Tis true, but naught can come of what I do not tell.”
“Mayhap I can help.”
“You cannot. Regardless of my own wishes, I shall soon wed Baron Lavonne.”
Beatrix moved nearer. “Is there someone else? Another you would wed?”
Gaenor startled and immediately tried to disguise her reaction with a shrug. “I did meet a knight at Wulfen, but I hardly know him well enough to wish marriage.”
“How well do you know him?”
“We…talked. In the chapel. That is where I met him.”
Beatrix made a sound of surprise. “Surely you were not allowed to attend mass with the men?”
“Of course not. I went only after they were done that I might have the chapel to myself.”
“Then how—?”
“He was there one day when I thought myself alone.”
“When he should have been training pages and squires?”
Gaenor shook her head. “He was not one of our brother’s men. He was a visiting knight.”
“Truly? How long did he visit?”
Beginning to wish she had not confided, Gaenor said, “More than a month, though I did not meet him until a fortnight past.”
“For what purpose was he at Wulfen?”
“Abel and Everard were training him.”
“A knight?” Beatrix exclaimed. “A man who has already earned his spurs?”
She should have said naught.
As if sensing Gaenor’s unease, Beatrix said, “Of course, you are surely relieved to be returned to Stern Castle.”
Gaenor lifted her goblet and sipped at the warm wine.
“Wulfen Castle must have been t-t-” Beatrix’s search for the word caused Gaenor to wince. “It must have been tedious.”
Gaenor lowered the goblet. “Do you forgive me, Beatrix?”
“For what?”
“For the ill words I spoke the day King Henry delivered his decree that a Wulfrith wed a Lavonne and it was determined that I would be the one? More, for what happened to you—what would not have happened had you not drawn the king’s men away from me and Sir Durand?”
“Gaenor—”
“I thought
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