Fire Song (Medieval Song 2)

Unaware of his thoughts, Kassia laughed softly. “When I was recovering from the fever, my father was forever pouring his Aquitaine wine down me. I feared I would become a drunkard with a red nose. I promise that I will be plump as a spring goose before long, my lord.”

He did not reply and Kassia smiled contentedly. He was kind and strong and he appeared to at least like her. She felt his arm tighten beneath her thighs and sudden rosy color washed over her cheeks. She ducked her head down against his shoulder. They had entered the hall, yet her husband still held her close.

“Good afternoon, my lord.”

Graelam’s hold on her eased and he let her down. “Blanche,” he said. “Have you yet met Kassia?”

“I bid you welcome,” Blanche said sweetly. She stared at the girl standing so close to Graelam. She looked for the word like a boy with her tumbled curls, and skinny. Blanche smiled. She knew Graelam preferred women with more ample proportions. He could not be pleased with this sorry excuse for a wife. During the long preceding night and the equally long day she had finally accepted the fact that she would never be mistress of Wolffeton, and Graelam’s wife. It was, she supposed, her fervent dislike of Joanna that had kept her from seeing the futility of her wishes, that and the growing dislike she saw Graelam evince toward his betrothed. But Joanna was gone and Kassia was here, already wed to Graelam. But what of my son? she wondered.

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, but Kassia, still flushed at her reaction to her husband’s arms, did not notice. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“I am Lord Graelam’s sister-in-law,” Blanche said. “Blanche de Cormont. Would you like a cup of ale, my lord?”

“Aye, Blanche,” Graelam said. He looked down for a moment at Kassia. “And a cup of wine for Kassia.”

Kassia watched Blanche give instructions to one of the serving wenches. The girl appeared sullen, her eyes darting toward Kassia before she took herself off.

Blanche walked gracefully to Graelam’s chair and carefully pulled it away from the trestle table.

“I understand,” she said to Kassia, “that you have been quite ill.”

Kassia nodded, pleased that Graelam motioned for her to sit beside him. “Aye,” she said. “But I am well now.”

“Perhaps not entirely, yet,” Graelam said.

Blanche took the goblet of ale from the serving girl and handed it herself to Graelam. She nodded to the girl to give the wine to Kassia.

“You still look rather pale and . . . thin,” she said, sitting herself near to Graelam. “Perhaps, my lord,” she continued in a soft voice, “you wish me to continue in my present duties until she is stronger?” Why am I doing this to myself when there is no hope?

Kassia stiffened. She shot a look toward her husband, waiting for him to tell his sister-in-law that she needn’t bother. To her chagrin, Graelam smiled warmly at Blanche. “Aye, thank you, Blanche.” He downed his ale, wiped his hand across his mouth, and asked, “Where is Guy?”

“I do not know,” Blanche said, her lips thinning. How he must be laughing at her now!

Graelam rose from his chair. “Kassia,” he said, “I must meet with my steward, Blount. Why do you not rest for a couple of hours?”

Kassia didn’t know what to say. She was too uncertain of her husband to tell him plainly that she wished to direct the servants, but without his permission, she could accomplish nothing. She knew Blanche was watching her. She nodded, saying nothing, and watched her husband stride from the hall.

“We have the evening meal in two hours,” Blanche said. “Would you like me to have one of the serving wenches show you to your chamber?”

Perhaps she is his mistress, Kassia thought, and thus her power with him. But no, that made no sense. Lord Graelam would not take his own sister-in-law, and a lady, to his bed. She looked about the hall, seeing at least a dozen servants watching them. Did they expect her and Blanche to pull each other’s hair out?

“Not as yet,” Kassia said.

“You are scarce more than a girl,” Blanche continued after a moment. “Your marriage to Lord Graelam came as a shock to everyone. I shall try to shield you from the . . . unkindness of the servants and Lord Graelam’s men.”

For a long moment Kassia gave Blanche a puzzled stare. “Why should anyone be unkind to me, Blanche? I do not understand your concern.”

“Wolffeton is a very large keep. There are many servants to direct. I doubt that you have the experience to make them do your bidding.”

Kassia laughed warmly. “My home in Brittany—Belleterre—is as vast as Wolffeton. My mother died when I was quite young and I have kept my father’s castle for a number of years. Indeed, I read and write and keep accounts. My husba

nd did not ally himself to an orphan waif, Blanche.” She was tempted to ask what experience Blanche had had, for the keep did not show a woman’s caring attention.

“I am pleased,” Blanche said. She dropped her eyes to her lap to cover her sharp disappointment and frustration.

“My lord Graelam,” Kassia said after a moment, “did he care mightily for Lady Joanna?”

“Lady Joanna is very beautiful,” Blanche said honestly. “Her hair is long, to her hips, and nearly silver, it is so light. Aye, he has—had—very strong feelings for her.”