Page 48 of The Unwilling Bride
She looked up, aghast, at his impassive face. “By yourself?”
He shrugged as if what he had done was not something worth mentioning. “I told you I’m used to taking care of my wounds.”
But to pull out stitches! She went to take hold of his arm to examine it, but he held her off with an upraised hand. “You tend to the injured first. You can look at my arm later.”
There was no room for dissent in his tone. “Very well,” she reluctantly agreed, “as long as you’ll give me your word I can do so and you won’t try to stop me.”
His lips curved up, revealing teeth that looked very white against his soot-darkened skin and he bowed as if they were in the king’s court. “I give you my word, my lady.”
AFTER LEAVING HIM, CONSTANCE made straight for Peder, who was sitting on a blanket the miller’s wife had brought him. Fortunately, no one was near him, so no one would hear their conversation. He smiled when he saw her, but she was in no mood to smile back.
“Has Talek left Tregellas?” she asked in a whisper as she crouched beside him.
She was well aware that not only were Talek and Peder friends, they shared some of the profits from the smuggling of Peder’s tin. Peder dug the metal out of the ground and prepared it for transport to France; Talek ensured Peder’s cache was never discovered and the French seamen never caught when they came ashore to collect their contraband cargo.
The old man’s eyes widened with surprise. “What makes you ask that, my lady?”
“Do you think he was angry enough to set fire to the mill?”
“God help us, no!” Peder cried. “I’d wager all the profit I’ve ever made that it wasn’t Talek.”
“Then who do you think could have done it?”
Peder scratched his grizzled chin. “I don’t know anybody who’d do something so terrible—except a Norman. That’s the sort of game those bastards play. Beggin’ your pardon, my lady.”
“In retaliation or during a siege perhaps, but Merrick’s not made war on anyone hereabouts.”
“Not yet,” Peder said significantly. “And there’s been plenty of talk about what he’ll do if the earl moves against the king. Maybe some want to prevent him from helping one side or the other.”
“That’s what—” She hesitated. Perhaps it was wiser not to say what Merrick suspected. “That’s what I was thinking.”
Since Peder knew no more than she, she rose. “I’vearranged for Elowen to take you in until you’re well. I think she’s already missing Eric.”
“The lad’s not married yet,” Peder said, wheezing a laugh. “What’ll she do when he’s off on his own, with a wife to boot?”
“Take in stray dogs, I expect.”
“Or help old men with no one else, eh?”
Constance regretted making that flippant remark and bent to kiss Peder’s forehead. “You’ve got me, Peder. And didn’t Lord Merrick say you could ask for his help? I’m sure he meant it.”
Peder frowned. “Aye, I think he did, too,” he muttered.
And for once he didn’t hawk and spit when speaking of the lord of Tregellas.
BY THE TIME CONSTANCE HAD ensured that all the injured were taken care of, she was desperately in need of washing herself. A little embarrassed by her filthy, untidy appearance, she tried not to be noticed as she made her way to the stairs leading to her bedchamber.
That wasn’t as difficult as it might have been. Henry and Ranulf had already washed and changed their clothes, and Henry was now seated on the dais, goblet in hand, describing the fire and their attempts to stop it to his rapt audience that consisted of a gaping Beatrice—who was too entranced to ask questions—as well as her father, Lord Algernon, Sir Jowan and Kiernan, who likewise seemed too spellbound to pay attention to anything else. She gathered from a comment Sir Jowan made that the nobles had watched the fire from the wall walk of the castle.
She wondered if Kiernan had been there, too. He wouldn’t have set fire to the mill, no matter how upset he was. He would plead, cajole, beg and complain, even issue a challenge to combat, but he’d surely consider firing a building beneath his dignity.
She paused to speak in a hushed whisper to Demelza, who assured her that there was clean, warm water waiting in her chamber. Lady Beatrice had ordered it the moment Sir Henry and the others had returned, and she’d ensured that it was kept warm.
Beatrice was proving herself very capable indeed. “And Lord Merrick? Is there hot water for him, as well?”
“Yes, my lady. He ordered a whole bath.”
Considering how dirty he was, she could see why.
