The Valcourt Heiress (Medieval Song 7)

She’d said nothing to anyone. She was too afraid. And she’d begun to hear the whispers then, everyone at Valcourt spoke behind their hands of her mother, and witchcraft. Was her mother really a witch? If so, why had she sought out a religious life? Why had she left her and her father and entered Meizerling Abbey?

Garron gave a sharp laugh. “You, a witch? You are too guileless to be a witch. Besides, there is no such thing.” He looked away from her, back out over the sea, searched to see the horizon. “Just a moment ago, the water was flat, running smooth and black. Now you can practically feel the water pulse deep beneath the surface. Listen to the waves boiling up, soon they’ll strike the rocks. The storm is coming.

“Tupper tells me he has a fine nose, something I don’t remember. Mayhap he has grown this fine nose in the past eight years. He tells me we will have howling winds and rain throughout the night, but the morrow will bring warmth and a sun high in the sky. If this comes to pass as he says it will, then we will go to Winthorpe.” He turned to stare down at her with a good deal of dislike. “Very well, I will let you keep your secrets if you continue to be useful to me.”

He was going to leave it, thank St. Cladawr’s bulging eyeballs. She bowed her head, feeling light-headed with relief. “Thank you, my lord. I swear you will not regret it.”

He had the distinct feeling, however, that he would come to regret it greatly.

She said, “The queen was very generous, but the

re are still many items we must purchase. We need wool. Elaine, the woman with the two small boys, she is a seamstress, as is Talia. Borran is Wareham’s weaver. I too know how to spin and weave thread into cloth. I can help him since there is so much to be done. I can teach other women since there is so much need. I know Borran has already begun repairing the looms smashed by the Black Demon. We must make palliasses and stuff them with straw so our old people can sleep better.”

He let her run on. Finally, he raised his fingertips and laid them against her mouth. “I’m certain you can do all these things. If you cannot, then we will see.” His fingers touched her bottom lip. Madness, he thought, it was madness to feel lust for this unknown girl. She had drawn his people in, so easily, it seemed, beginning with old Miggins. He dropped his hand to his side. “I have coin, but I will have to spend most of it on skilled laborers. Wareham’s carpenter wasn’t killed, but Inar is an old man. I am hopeful to find a new carpenter in Winthorpe he can teach. The steward was killed. At least Eller the armorer survived. The Black Demon did not destroy my farms, but the farmers need more seeds, something my brother had not provided them before he died.” He gave a short laugh. “I had believed myself rich, but I do not have enough to rebuild Wareham.”

“Mayhap you could ask the king to find you an heiress.” She hadn’t meant to say the words, but they’d popped right out of her mouth. And just why was that?

He laughed. “It is not a bad idea, except that heiresses do not fall like snow upon the ground. There are very few of them. Heiresses are also, I’ve heard, a very bad business.”

“Surely that cannot be true.”

“Of course it can. Indeed, it is common knowledge.”

“A bad business? What do you mean, bad business?”

“An heiress knows her own worth and thus she is too proud. She complains endlessly, she whines, she casts out orders, and all dislike her heartily and hate to look at her because she very likely has rabbit teeth and foul breath. To be a husband to an heiress curdles my guts.”

“That is nonsense. Only a blockhead would believe that.”

“You, a simple girl of no importance at all, dare to call me a blockhead? Do you know, if you were a man I would likely throw you off this wall for calling me that? As for you, if I wished, I could throw you off this wall with one hand.”

She appeared to think about that. “Very well, in that case, I will mind my tongue even though it is sometimes difficult.”

He could but stare at her. She’d sounded wicked, and she’d done it on purpose. He found he was charmed to his boot heels. He said suddenly, “I remember my father believed a woman should be chastised whenever she misspoke to her lord.”

“I should chastise a man if he misspoke to me. What is your point?”

“I mean he struck her when it pleased him to do so.”

“I should kill my husband whilst he slept if he struck me.”

“You sound much too fierce to be a girl of no importance at all. No, now don’t make up a new lie. Actually, I do not remember his ever striking her. But enough of that. Last night I could hear Miggins snoring from thirty feet away, over all the snoring of my men. And you slept beside her.” He eyed her. “Ah, why do you not sleep in the small chamber where your father slept?” He immediately raised his hand. “I know, I know, it pains you too much to sleep there.”

“Very well, I will not tell you that.”

“Then tell me how you slept with Miggins snoring in your ear?”

She gave him a big grin that made him stare at her mouth and at the deep dimple in her cheek.

“I sang to myself,” she said, “sang every song I knew until I was so bored I fell asleep. When I opened my eyes, it was morning.”

“Sing me one of your songs.”

She cocked her head and sang in a pure, sweet voice,“I was a simple angel,

Sitting on a cloud,

A fair knight smiled up at me