Kissing the Bride (Medieval 4)

He had not known of their visit until afterwards, and then he had appeared, outwardly at least, to be amused by Alfric’s persistence. But now there was a spark of irritation in his blue eyes, a touch of impatience to his smile.

Jenova shrugged. “They are my neighbors. I cannot refuse them entry to Gunlinghorn just because they annoy me.”

“Why not?” Henry declared. “Put a sign upon the gate; a list of persons not to be admitted because they are bores.”

“Henry…”

Raf giggled. “You could put Master Will’s name on it, Mama. He talks too loudly and doesn’t listen to a word you say.”

He was clearly repeating something Jenova herself had said, and she shook her head at him, biting her lip on her laughter.

“And Lord Baldessare. He stares about the keep as though he thinks he could do it better.”

Jenova did not feel like laughing now. She had not realized Raf was so acute. For one so young, he saw much. Beside her, Agetha clicked her tongue in annoyance, refusing to make fun of Alfric’s family. ’Twas a pity, Jenova thought, that Agetha was not as canny as her son…. All of a sudden she remembered something Rhona had said, something Jenova had been meant to pass on.

After Alfric had left her in the great hall, Rhona had returned, looking flushed and agitated and quite unlike her usual restrained self. Jenova had been so surprised by her change in appearance and manner that for a moment she had hardly heard what the other woman had been saying.

“Lady Jenova, my father sends Lord Henry a message. He says to tell him that they have a mutual friend. Someone who knows of le château de Nuit.”

“I beg your pardon? I do not under—”

“I must go.” The other woman’s eyes were quite bright and a little wild. “Will you deliver the message to him?”

“Château de Nuit. Of course. But what does it mean?”

But Rhona had gone, hurrying after her brother, leaving Jenova bewildered and more than a little upset.

Le château de Nuit? It was an odd name, a dismal sort of name, and not one she had ever heard from Henry’s lips. It seemed odd that Baldessare was sending such a message to Henry, a man he hated. Perhaps it was to make mischief. Jenova contemplated the idea of not telling him at all, but she was not the sort of woman to withhold information that did not belong to her.

“Lady Rhona spoke of something when she was here, Henry. A place you might know. She says you and her father have a mutual friend.”

Henry turned his blue eyes on her, smiling. There was a new tension in his body, a new tightness about his jaw. “Oh?”

“It is a little strange. The name of a castle.”

“Probably some new estate he claims I have stolen off him. I see I will have to give him every acre I own just to be rid of him. What is the name of this castle, Jenova?”

“It is called le château de Nuit. Have you heard of it?”

The smile was still on his mouth, his eyes were still fixed on hers, but it was as if he was no longer there. His body was empty, a husk without substance. Henry was gone, apart from a muscle in his cheek, which gave a violent twitch.

“Henry?” she said sharply, reaching out her hand toward him. But the unsettling moment had already passed. Henry was looking down into his wine goblet with a little frown, his hair falling forward to hide his eyes.

“The name is not one I know, or if I ever did, I have forgotten it. Did Lady Rhona say where she had got it from?”

“I believe she said a mutual friend of both her father and you. She impressed upon me that it was important, but Henry, she was acting very strangely. I think something had disturbed her when she—”

Henry shook his head, still staring intently into his wine. “Nay, it means nothing to me, sweeting.” He looked up at her and gave a grin. “I did not think Baldessare had any friends!”

She laughed even while she was thinking, He called me sweeting. He never calls me that in front of others. He must be rattled if he has forgotten to watch his tongue. What can it mean? What is this place, this château de Nuit?

“Raf,” Henry was speaking to her son. “Tell your Mama what Raven did today.”

Raf’s face lit up with the memory, and he began to tell her a long, rambling tale of the black stable cat and her kittens. Jenova pretended to listen, making the right sounds in the right places, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Henry had changed the subject on purpose to give himself time to recover. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him. His normally healthy skin was pallid, almost sickly, and his mouth was closed hard, so that deep lines were clearly visible, slashing through his cheeks.

For the first time since Jenova had known him, Henry appeared old and worn, as though his devils had caught up with him.

Jenova pulled herself up. Such thoughts were strange to her. Henry would never have done a thing so terrible that he was afraid to tell her of it. Henry had never pretended to be faithful, and she was aware that he had had many women. He was also a knight who had fought in many battles and killed many men. No doubt he held secrets with the king, matters pertaining to the kingdom and those who might wish to harm it.