thanked him. It was a costly gift, fit to grace the robes of a queen.
Her uncle dismissed her gratitude. 'It is nothing,'
he said, and meant it. In the fullness of time he expected them to return to his keeping and all they had cost him was a little joyful exertion of his sword arm. 'Is your lady mother here with you?'
'Yes, my lord. She pleads your indulgence. She has a megrim.'
'I have that effect on her.' Smiling, he toyed with the blade of the knife still in his hand.
Judith shivered, suddenly thankful that the majority of her uncle's men were outside the keep.
'Are you afraid of me, Judith?' He admired his reflection in the mirror-bright steel.
'Has she cause to be?' Guyon's voice was as soft as his entrance had been.
De Belleme spun round, his expression
momentarily one of shocked surprise before he schooled it to neutrality. For all his height and breadth, Guyon FitzMiles moved like a wraith. It was a trait that irritated the Earl, for God alone knew what the man was capable of overhearing in his stealth.
'Christ's blood, no!' He tossed the dagger back to de Lacey. 'But you know how reputations travel.'
Guyon's eyes fell to the sables puddling the board. His nostrils flared and his luminous gaze struck de Belleme's. 'I know the very roads,' he answered and unpinned his cloak. 'I have granted your men a corner of the bailey. They may have their weapons when they leave.'
'Your hospitality dazzles me, nephew,' said de Belleme drily.
Guyon tossed his cloak on to the table and rested one haunch on the wood. 'Yours would blind. I wonder what you would have done had you caught up with my wife before the drawbridge?'
'Nothing improper, I assure you.'
'By whose code?'
'My uncle has brought us a wedding gift of these fine sables,' Judith said quickly. She could feel Guyon's hostility and knew they could not afford a rift with the Earl of Shrewsbury. There was a moment's silence. The balance teetered. Judith held her husband's gaze and silently pleaded.
Joining him, she grasped his right arm possessively as a bride might do, but actually to prevent him drawing his sword. His muscles were like iron and rigid with the effort of control, and his eyes were ablaze. Frantically she stood on tiptoe to kiss his tight lips, trying to break the terrible concentration.
Through a fog of rage Guyon became aware of her desperation and the spark of sanity that had prevented him from leaping at de Belleme's throat kindled to a steadier flame. He dropped his focus to her upturned face and filled his vision with her shining honesty instead of the contemptuous challenge of his uncle-by-marriage.
'I would set your worth even higher than sables, Cath fach ,' he said with a strained smile as he slipped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek, knowing that she had drawn him away from the edge of a very dangerous precipice.
'As it happens,' said de Belleme pleasantly, 'I do have other fish to fry, nothing too important.
Indeed I am embarrassed to make mention of it.'
Guyon doubted the lord of Shrewsbury had ever been embarrassed in his life. He lifted a brow and looked enquiringly blank, pretending not to see de Lacey's lounging smirk. Beside him Judith had clenched her jaw and he knew that she realised what was coming next.
' Cariad , go and bestow your wedding gift safely and organise some fitting repast for our guests,'
he said.
Judith gave him a keen look. He extricated himself from her grip and ran one finger lightly down her freckled nose. 'If you please.' It was a charming, light dismissal, but a dismissal nevertheless. His gaze flickered to the sables and then quickly away.
Judith curtsied - she could do little else - and excused herself.
'You were saying?' Guyon folded his arms.
'It is a small matter of silver owed to me by my late brother Maurice for the building of Ravenstow...' said the Earl of Shrewsbury with a smile Judith smoothed one of the sables beneath her palm, staring down at the glowing fur
Her uncle dismissed her gratitude. 'It is nothing,'
he said, and meant it. In the fullness of time he expected them to return to his keeping and all they had cost him was a little joyful exertion of his sword arm. 'Is your lady mother here with you?'
'Yes, my lord. She pleads your indulgence. She has a megrim.'
'I have that effect on her.' Smiling, he toyed with the blade of the knife still in his hand.
Judith shivered, suddenly thankful that the majority of her uncle's men were outside the keep.
'Are you afraid of me, Judith?' He admired his reflection in the mirror-bright steel.
'Has she cause to be?' Guyon's voice was as soft as his entrance had been.
De Belleme spun round, his expression
momentarily one of shocked surprise before he schooled it to neutrality. For all his height and breadth, Guyon FitzMiles moved like a wraith. It was a trait that irritated the Earl, for God alone knew what the man was capable of overhearing in his stealth.
'Christ's blood, no!' He tossed the dagger back to de Lacey. 'But you know how reputations travel.'
Guyon's eyes fell to the sables puddling the board. His nostrils flared and his luminous gaze struck de Belleme's. 'I know the very roads,' he answered and unpinned his cloak. 'I have granted your men a corner of the bailey. They may have their weapons when they leave.'
'Your hospitality dazzles me, nephew,' said de Belleme drily.
Guyon tossed his cloak on to the table and rested one haunch on the wood. 'Yours would blind. I wonder what you would have done had you caught up with my wife before the drawbridge?'
'Nothing improper, I assure you.'
'By whose code?'
'My uncle has brought us a wedding gift of these fine sables,' Judith said quickly. She could feel Guyon's hostility and knew they could not afford a rift with the Earl of Shrewsbury. There was a moment's silence. The balance teetered. Judith held her husband's gaze and silently pleaded.
Joining him, she grasped his right arm possessively as a bride might do, but actually to prevent him drawing his sword. His muscles were like iron and rigid with the effort of control, and his eyes were ablaze. Frantically she stood on tiptoe to kiss his tight lips, trying to break the terrible concentration.
Through a fog of rage Guyon became aware of her desperation and the spark of sanity that had prevented him from leaping at de Belleme's throat kindled to a steadier flame. He dropped his focus to her upturned face and filled his vision with her shining honesty instead of the contemptuous challenge of his uncle-by-marriage.
'I would set your worth even higher than sables, Cath fach ,' he said with a strained smile as he slipped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek, knowing that she had drawn him away from the edge of a very dangerous precipice.
'As it happens,' said de Belleme pleasantly, 'I do have other fish to fry, nothing too important.
Indeed I am embarrassed to make mention of it.'
Guyon doubted the lord of Shrewsbury had ever been embarrassed in his life. He lifted a brow and looked enquiringly blank, pretending not to see de Lacey's lounging smirk. Beside him Judith had clenched her jaw and he knew that she realised what was coming next.
' Cariad , go and bestow your wedding gift safely and organise some fitting repast for our guests,'
he said.
Judith gave him a keen look. He extricated himself from her grip and ran one finger lightly down her freckled nose. 'If you please.' It was a charming, light dismissal, but a dismissal nevertheless. His gaze flickered to the sables and then quickly away.
Judith curtsied - she could do little else - and excused herself.
'You were saying?' Guyon folded his arms.
'It is a small matter of silver owed to me by my late brother Maurice for the building of Ravenstow...' said the Earl of Shrewsbury with a smile Judith smoothed one of the sables beneath her palm, staring down at the glowing fur
Similar Books
