Page 84 of The Unwilling Bride
Her gaze moved to Merrick, riding at the head of the column in full chain mail, his shield on his left arm, his sword at his side, his mace tied to his saddle. His posture was so straight, so stiff, so apparently ready for battle.
“I wonder if the rain will cease or get worse before we reach Tintagel,” Lord Osgoode speculated beside her.
Constance stopped looking at her husband and tittered. “I hope better, or I fear my gowns will be ruined and I’ll look a complete fright.”
“I’m sure you are never anything less than beautiful,” Lord Osgoode assured her.
Constance struggled not to betray any scorn, but this man made Henry look an amateur when it came to meaningless flattery. “Is it much farther? I fear I’m not well traveled. I’ve never ridden past Lord Carrell’s holding.”
That was quite true, and she had the aching legs and sore back to prove it.
“I doubt we can reach it today,” Lord Osgoode replied. “I understand there’s a monastery not far from here that offers lodging to weary travelers. I’m sure your husband will stop there for the night to let you rest.”
Constance feared Merrick didn’t care one jot about her discomfort or fatigue.
Lord Osgoode tilted his head and looked up at the sky. “I do believe the rain is stopping.”
He threw back his hood. “Ah, that’s better,” he said, inhaling deeply. “There are times I regret I don’t have more estates in the south of France. The weather is so much more pleasant. You and your husband must visit me there.”
“Oh, I’d love to! It must be delightful to be so rich and travel! I fear I seem woefully ignorant to you.”
“A woman of such beauty has no need to be clever,” Lord Osgoode replied, giving her a condescending smile. “Nevertheless, you’re quite well-informed about the situation at court.”
She grinned sheepishly. “I confess I care little about such matters, my lord. However, I’ve discovered that thebest way to get my husband’s attention is to feign an interest and ask lots of questions.”
God help her, even Beatrice never sounded so silly.
“I hope he appreciates your efforts.”
She giggled and lowered her eyelids to feign a modest blush. “Oh, yes, indeed. I am well rewarded.”
She slid a scrutinizing glance at the nobleman riding beside her from beneath her lowered lids.
Lord Osgoode didn’t look overly pleased by that answer. Perhaps he hoped she was frustrated and so lacking for affection she’d be an easy target for his oily charm.
Lord Osgoode kneed his horse closer and she anticipated more empty flattery. “If it does come to rebellion, many men are going to wonder which side your husband will support.”
So, he thought to get information from her. Even if she did know her husband’s opinion on this vital matter, she wouldn’t share that knowledge with Lord Osgoode, especially after Merrick’s warning.
Instead, she widened her eyes with bogus dismay and very brightly said, “I have no idea. He’s never told me.”
There was a flash of annoyance in Osgoode’s eyes, but in the next moment he was once again the placid, genial companion. “Let us hope that no choice need be made, especially as it seems your husband has quite enough to deal with on his estate. The fire at the mill was most unfortunate.”
“Yes, it was. Thankfully, the repairs should be finished before we return from Tintagel. It was kind of SirJowan to send us his mason. He’s a rough and crude sort of commoner, but he seems to know what he’s about. At least, I hope so.”
“And you still have no idea how it happened?”
“No. Merrick’s been trying to find out, of course, but alas! To no avail.”
“At least your husband’s been successful at stopping the smuggling. It’s a pity he hasn’t captured some of the outlaws, though, so that their punishment could set an example. Peasants and villeins require a strong hand, or they begin to think they have more rights than they do. These tinners, for instance. I don’t know how the Cornish lords put up with them.”
Ahead, Merrick raised his hand to halt the cortege, giving her an excuse not to answer. It was getting nearly impossible to hide her true feelings and guard her tongue.
“I wonder why we’ve stopped,” Lord Osgoode muttered as he nudged his horse closer to the front of the cortege.
She was curious, too, so she did the same. Lord Osgoode repeated his question when they reached her husband, who was staring ahead at the thick wood of oak and ash.
“This would be a fine place for an ambush,” he replied.
