Fire Song (Medieval Song 2) - Page 70

Blanche ate daintily, savoring every bite of the tender pork. I am safe, she thought. She was so relieved that she could not long sustain her fury at Dienwald de Fortenberry. Graelam would never believe his wife. And of course Kassia, little fool that she was, was too proud, too unbending to convince her husband otherwise. Blanche had looked closely at Kassia, searching for bruises. It had surprised her to see none, for she would have sworn that Graelam was furious enough to kill her. Again she stilled her guilt. Kassia had returned safely, and Blanche had but to bide her time.

“I had not realized that you knew of Lord Graelam’s treasure trove.”

Blanche’s heart skipped a beat at Guy’s words, but none of it showed on her lovely face. She arched an eyebrow. “You spoke, Sir Guy?”

“Aye, Blanche. You took the Saracen necklace and you hired those men to remove Kassia from Wolffeton. Did you expect them to kill her?” He shook his head thoughtfully. “No, you are not without some pity. But you wanted them to take her back to Brittany, did you not? Were you dismayed to see Kassia returned with nary a scratch?”

“Your imagination rivals the minstrels’, Guy. Pray, Sir Knight, have you other, equally interesting tales?”

Never, he knew, would he succeed in getting her to tell the truth. He would have to do something else. He stroked his jaw with his shapely hand, realizing that Blanche was single-minded, if nothing else. She had failed this time to rid herself of Kassia. He had no doubt that she would try again, and that frightened him. How could Graelam be so damnably blind? He said very softly, “Blanche, even if Kassia were dead, Graelam would not wed you.”

She gave a soft, tinkling laugh. “Ah, Guy, is that jealousy I hear in your voice?”

He looked at her for a long moment. “Jealousy, Blanche? Mayhap, lovely lady, you are onto something.”

“ ’Tis a message from the Duke of Cornwall. He comes within the week.”

Kassia quickly set aside the ledger of accounts, uncertain of Graelam’s reaction to what she was doing, and forced a tentative smile to her lips. Blount certainly delighted in her skills, but she wasn’t at all sure what her husband’s reaction would be. “I shall see to his comfort, my lord.”

“You may recall that his retinue is vast.”

“Aye, I remember.”

Graelam eyed her with growing irritation. “Must you leap out of your white skin whenever I am about?”

She looked at his darkly handsome face and felt a small wrench of pain. “I believed you wished proper submissiveness in your wife.”

“You are about as submissive as my destrier. You cannot even play the role well.”

She said nothing, her eyes on her hands that lay clasped in her lap.

“What are you doing?”

He leaned to the table and picked up the ledger, riffling through it. “Ah yes,” he said, “I had forgot that your father taught you to read and write. Does Blount know that you poach on his preserves?”

“Aye,” she said softly.

He tossed the ledger back onto the table. “Does it please you to make fools of us all? Nay, do not say it again, Kassia. Your lies have filled my craw to overflowing.”

He strode from the small workroom, not looking at her again. She returned to her figures, wishing she could tell him that Wolffeton was becoming a rich holding. But hearing her say it would only anger him, for he would doubtless believe that she was angling for new gowns, jewels, or the like. She finished her task and called all the indoor servants together in the great hall.

She looked at their faces, some of them dear to her now, others, like Nan’s, implacably hostile. Seeing Blanche sitting near the great fireplace, her expression chillingly serene, Kassia felt herself shudder. She told them of the duke’s impending visit. “Marta,” she said to an older widow who was now in charge of the spinning and weaving, “we will speak of new clothing for the women. We have enough surplus cloth now to see to our own needs.”

All but Nan smiled at that.

“Aye, my lady,” Marta said, beaming at her new importance.

“Bount will give up his chamber to the duke. Nan, Alice, you will see to its thorough cleaning. I hope to have finished new cushions for the duke’s chair.”

She heard Nan muttering, but ignored her. She gave other orders, then dismissed the servants, all save the cooks. She spent another hour planning meals with them.

Kassia rose and rubbed her neck. She wanted to ride, but doubted Graelam would allow it. Indeed, she thought, he would likely humiliate her in front of his men if she even tried.

“Kassia.”

She jumped, startled, for she had not noticed Guy entering the hall.

“I have news, my lady. You shall be the first to congratulate me.”

Tags: Catherine Coulter Medieval Song Historical
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