Secret Song (Medieval Song 4)

“Would you like some warm ale, Daria?”

She forced a smile to her lips. “Aye, and I thank you.”

“Please, call me Kassia.”

Later, downstairs in Wolffeton’s great hall, Kassia de Moreton said to her husband, “What do you make of all this, my lord?”

“Of Roland and his new wife? Why, I should like to see her when her face isn’t green and when she isn’t clutching her belly.”

“She is with child.”

“Aye, Roland told me. Odd, the way he said it. Not the way a man should, I don’t think.”

“You mean, my lord, he didn’t begin to strut about like a smug cock with his announcement?”

But Graelam didn’t return her humor with his own. He shook his head, looking thoughtful. “Something is amiss. Do you mind keeping the girl here whilst Roland travels to his keep—rather the keep he will soon own?”

“Not at all.”

Later in the afternoon, Daria, embarrassed at her illness, emerged from the chamber feeling as wonderful as she had when Roland had become her husband. She was walking down the winding stone stairs when she met him coming up. She stood on the step above him.

He said nothing for a few moments, studying her face.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly. “I’m sorry. This illness is so unpredictable.”

He remained silent. Then he stepped up onto the step with her, pressing her against the stone wall. He felt the length of her legs, her soft belly, her breasts flattening against his chest. He raised his hand and absently began caressing the line of her jaw.

Daria began to tremble. She couldn’t help it. She closed her eyes and leaned into him, wishing he would close his arms around her, wishing he would kiss her and tell her that he’d missed her and wanted her. “Roland,” she said.

Roland said nothing.

He continued to stroke her jaw with his callused fingertip. When she unconsciously leaned her face against his hand, he withdrew, turned, and left her. He called over his shoulder, “If you are well enough, there is food for you in the great hall.”

The main meal of the day at Wolffeton Castle was served in the late afternoon. The sun still shone outside, for it was deep summer. The hall was filled with laughter and jesting and howls of outraged humor.

Daria sat beside her husband, picking at her food. The herring was delicious, she knew it, but she was afraid to eat because she didn’t want to become ill again, at least not today.

She heard Lord Graelam speaking to Roland about the king and his grandiose plans for castle-building in Wales. “So he is now visiting all the Marcher Barons. Eating them down to bare granaries and assessing their strength. Edward has always employed sound strategies.”

Kassia turned to her new guest. “Try eating some of this soft bread soaked in the milk.”

“I feel wonderful, truly, it’s just that I wish to continue feeling this way. I don’t like Roland to see me when—well, he is very kind about it, but—” Her voice dropped into nothing.

“But nothing,” Kassia said briskly. “Now, tell me of your adventures. I overheard just a bit, and wish to know everything.”

The evening passed pleasantly. Daria had begun to relax and to smile again. When Kassia excused herself to feed her babe, Harry, Roland turned to his wife and said, “Are you tired? Would you like to retire now?”

She nodded, feeling weariness tug at her.

Roland looked down at his empty trencher and said, “I will come to you tonight, since you are well. Prepare yourself for me. You belong to me, and if you aren’t ill, then I wish to treat you as a man does his wife.”

She hated the coldness of this, hated the man he became when he remembered himself her husband.

“What do you mean that I am to prepare myself? Do you wish me to stand naked in the middle of the chamber when you enter? Do you wish me to lie on my back with my legs parted? What is it you wish, Roland?”

He sucked in his breath, surprised at her attack. He wouldn’t allow her sarcasm at his expense. “I wish you to cease your insolence, Daria. What I meant was simply that you know I intend to take you tonight, so be prepared for it.”

“Will you treat me as you did on our wedding night or will you be gentle and tender and call me by another woman’s name?”