Blake shrugged. "She was wearing a dress when I woke up after the injury."
"So sometime while ye were unconscious," Angus murmured.
"She was still the same Seonaid 'ere Aeldra and I left to visit my family," Little George offered helpfully.
"So it was during the last two days 'ere I awoke," Blake said with a nod. "During the time that Amaury says Emmalene was spending a lot of time with her."
Angus Dunbar shook his head again. "I canna see it, lad. As I said, plenty o' ladies visited Dunbar over the years, including Iliana, and she tried to turn Seonaid into more o' a lady at my request, but Seonaid would have none o' it. It must be something else."
They were all silent, considering the matter; then Little George said, "Mayhap it has something to do with Lady Ardeth."
Blake's head shot up at this comment. "Lady Ardeth?"
"Aye. Aeldra was telling me that Lady Ardeth tried to insult Seonaid, but she put her in her place," he explained, then shrugged. "Mayhap something she said affected her after all."
"What did she say?" Blake asked.
"She said she had witnessed their practicing with their swords, then said something about it being interesting for you to be married to an Amazon and did you substitute swordplay for foreplay to accommodate her."
"Bitch," Angus said with distaste.
"Aye," the earl agreed, then murmured thoughtfully. "Ardeth ... Did you not dally with her 'ere she married? You came home for Christmas the year you earned your spurs and she was here. She and her family stopped in on the way to her marriage, and I felt sure there was something between the two of you."
"Aye," Blake said and nearly groaned aloud. Lady Ardeth had a vicious tongue. "She is a viper."
Angus Dunbar shook his head again. "Plenty o' ladies have taken their talons to Seonaid over the years. She's always put them in their places an' gone about her business. Why would this be any different?"
"Mayhap because she loves Blake," Little George said, and Blake found himself turning to him sharply. "The way she reacted when you were injured was pretty telling. She would not leave your side, but sat up staring at you day and night as if willing you to live. She cares for you."
"And you think her loving Blake would make her change?" the earl asked.
Little George shrugged. "Amaury tried to be more like Blake to please Emmalene when they first married. Mayhap Seonaid thought being more like Emmalene would please Blake."
"Aye." Angus Dunbar nodded. "That may be the way o' it. In fact, 'tis the only explanation that seems likely so far."
"Well, there you are, then." The earl took Blake's arm and turned him toward the stairs. "All you need do is talk to her and sort the matter out. Tell her you love her just the way she is and she need not change. All will be well."
Blake helped his father up the stairs, his mind whirling with what he should say to his wife. By the time they reached the keep doors, the matter was settled in his mind. He knew exactly what he would say; he just had to find the chance to talk to her.
It was a task easier said than done. It seemed a number of their relatives had descended on Sherwell on hearing of his father's illness. With several aunts and uncles and cousins under the roof, as well as the bishop, and Lord Dunbar and his new wife, Blake found he did not even have his room at the moment. He and Seonaid had been relegated to sleeping in the hall along with the lesser guests and the servants.
*
"You are becoming very good at sewing, Seonaid. But would you not prefer to go practice in the bailey with Aeldra?" Lady Margaret asked gently.
Seonaid forced a smile for her new stepmother. "Nay. I am content to sit here with the ladies and sew," she lied. In truth, Seonaid was so sick of sitting around with the women sewing that she felt sure she would scream. Unfortunately, she found it hampering to practice with swords in a skirt. The stupid thing tripped her up at every turn.
"Seonaid," Lady Margaret said quietly, "your father is very worried about you. He thinks you are not happy."
Seonaid stared at the cloth she was practicing stitches on and grimaced. Her father was not wrong; she was miserable. But every time she considered giving up this ladylike business, she recalled Blake's yelling "My wife is perfect just the way she is," and her determination to be what he wanted was renewed. She had been behaving this way for two days when he made that claim and was obviously well pleased with the change. It gave her hope that he might come to love her.
"Wife?"
Seonaid gave a start as Blake suddenly appeared at her elbow, then managed a smile for his benefit. "Aye, husband?"
"Come." Catching her arm, he urged her to her feet and began to lead her out of the great hall.
"Is somethin' amiss?" Seonaid asked, eyeing his determined expression warily.
"Nay, but I wish to talk with you," Blake answered. "I have wished to talk with you since arriving at Sherwell. Howbeit, we have not had a moment alone since we arrived here, and as it does not appear that any of the guests intend to leave any time soon ..." He shrugged. "I have decided we shall have to find someplace we can talk."
By this time he had led her out of the keep. Seonaid spied the saddled horses waiting for them and frowned. "Where are we going?"
"To a secret spot I know where we can be alone."
"Outside the walls?" Seonaid asked the obvious. They would hardly need the horses if this spot were within Sherwell's walls. "Do you think that's wise? What if Greenweld's men attack again?"
"There is little chance of that. Surely they have heard that Greenweld is dead and will have moved on by now." He didn't sound the least concerned, so Seonaid let the subject drop and concentrated on mounting and keeping her seat on the sidesaddle as he led her o
ut of the bailey.
The secret spot was a little glen awash with buttercups. Seonaid smiled at the sight of the lovely yellow wildflowers carpeting the ground as she slid off her mount and into Blake's arms.
She almost protested that he shouldn't strain himself as he caught her and lowered her to the ground, but his strength had much improved in the days they had been at Sherwell. His color was completely back to normal, and Seonaid knew that he had been practicing with the men in the bailey, rebuilding his strength.
"Nice, is it not?" Blake asked as he retrieved a blanket and a small sack that hung from his saddle.
"Aye," Seonaid agreed as he took her hand and led her to the center of the small clearing. He released her then and spread out the blanket, then gestured for her to sit. Settling next to her, he opened the sack and pulled out some cheese, bread, fruit, and a skin of wine. He obviously intended on putting the talk off until after they had eaten, and Seonaid found herself growing nervous at the idea. He had sounded so grim and determined on approaching her in the great hall. ...
"I thought ye wanted to talk to me," she prompted.
Blake lifted his gaze to Seonaid and noted the anxiety tightening her face. She looked much as she had on their wedding night, as if expecting something unpleasant was coming and wishing to get it over with. He hesitated only a moment, then nodded and set the food and wine aside. They might as well get the hard part over with first.
After briefly considering how to start, he asked, "Seonaid, why do you not wear braies any more?"
She looked startled, then opened her mouth, closed it again, and asked, "Do ye no prefer me in gowns?"
"In truth?"
She nodded.
"Nay," he answered firmly. "I prefer you naked."
Seonaid's eyes widened, then she grinned, and he continued. "Second to naked, I prefer you in those tight old braies that show every curve of your body."
She chuckled at his frank admission.
"I also prefer you happy," he said. "And while you may think you have a smile pasted on your face the day through, in truth it looks more like a determined grimace. You are not happy. I want you happy."