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Velvet Bond. Catherine Archer
Читать онлайн.Название Velvet Bond
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Автор произведения Catherine Archer
Издательство HarperCollins
But Elizabeth could not make herself believe this. How could her own instincts be so badly askew as that? Surely, if she was to judge by her feelings, Raynor was truly a man among men. Else how could she explain how her heretofore-dormant emotions had been so suddenly awakened?
Just then she heard the sound of her brother’s booted feet coming up the narrow wooden stairs that led from the large living chamber below. Olwyn must have let him in. Elizabeth felt a stab of guilt at thinking about the other woman. She’d managed to avoid speaking to her mistress since Elizabeth snapped at her upon coming home from Windsor. But she had given Elizabeth many long, disapproving looks to let her know how badly she had behaved.
Elizabeth knew that as soon as Olwyn was ready to listen, she would need to apologize to the woman who was more friend than aught else. After all, it was Stephen she was unhappy with. Olwyn had been her companion since the day Stephen brought her to court, after their parents died, seven years ago. At seventeen, four years Elizabeth’s senior, Olwyn had just been widowed, and had needed a way to make her living. Her husband had been the youngest of six brothers and thus had left her with little but his horse and sword. Stephen had felt the older girl would be able to teach Elizabeth about the realities of living at court, and hopefully keep her out of trouble.
But Elizabeth didn’t want to think about that now. She and Olwyn had had more serious disagreements over the years, and had settled them quickly enough. At the moment, she wanted to concentrate her attention on Stephen.
Stephen opened the door of his chamber, his face taking on a pained expression as his gaze swept the room. The chamber was not large, and in the cheery glow of the firelight he could see that it was immaculate. The wooden floor had been scrubbed clean, the hangings on the bed had been pulled back, so he could see that the linens were tucked so tightly he could have bounced a sword upon them and not made a wrinkle. Not one single item of a personal nature was visible. The lids of his two chests were shut tight upon their contents, which were usually spilled about in happy disarray. “Ah, Beth, you've been cleaning again.”
She smiled with feigned politeness. “I thought your chambers in need of a good airing, dear brother. You would not have me neglect you.”
He grimaced. Not so much as a speck of dust dared lend a hint of casual livability to the room. The only objects she had let remain unhidden were the pitcher and cup on the table beside his chair. And, judging from the mug she held in her hand, that had not been for his comfort. He shut the door behind him with a sigh. “It will be weeks before I am able to find everything again. What has come over you now, woman? I asked you last time to stay clear of my personal chamber.”
Her chin tilted. “But think, dear brother, and you will have your answer. I was most laboriously occupied in helping you to fend off the attentions of your former mistress when I suddenly found myself banished for home.” She shrugged, her blue eyes wide with feigned innocence. “I but looked about for some way to make myself useful.”
“God’s blood, Beth. Do you mean you hold that against me? I hadn’t seen Warwicke for years.”
She arched delicate black brows. “I do mean just that.”
He sat down on the edge of the bed, shaking his head. “I do suppose I could have been more considerate of your feelings, but I didn’t think you’d mind. After all, you had done nothing but complain about going up to the castle with me, as it was.” He lifted an apologetic hand. “I can but say I am most sorry for having offended you.”
Feeling that she had made him suffer quite enough, Elizabeth grinned. Stephen was really very good to her, and she did believe he had thought she would be happy to be gone from the castle. He could have no idea that she had become so easily enamored with his friend. She inclined her head. “You are forgiven. And if you like, I will go through your chests and throw everything about as it was before.”
He chuckled wryly. “Nay, help me no more. I knew where things were then. You could not put them back where they belong, did you try.”
She rose and poured him a cup of wine, then held it forth as a peace offering.
Stephen took the cup.
It was a long moment before Elizabeth got around to the next order of business. But get around to it she did. “Did you enjoy your evening?”
He grinned. “Aye, that I did.”
“And Lord Warwicke? He enjoyed the evening, as well?”
Stephen frowned. “I suppose. We caught up on many years. I had not seen him since we were both boys of fourteen.”
Ah, she thought. That might explain why Stephen had failed to mention the other man. “And has he changed a great deal from when you were younger? You recognized him readily enough, after so long a time. And he you.”
“You are right. I did recognize him, but as I think on it, it is not really so very surprising. Even though he is a man now, rather than a boy, his eyes are the same. One doesn’t forget those walnut-brown eyes so easily, they are most uncommon. And we were rather close as fosterlings. Both of us trained with the earl of Norwich, and shared a room for the year Raynor was there. He left upon his father’s death, when he was but fourteen.”
“He has been a baron since the age of fourteen. 'Tis a great responsibility,” she remarked thoughtfully.
Stephen cast her an assessing glance before he went on. “What you say is true. But what have you, Beth? What concern is it of yours?”
She looked toward the fire, hardly feeling its heat on her already flaming cheeks. “I am but curious because you never mentioned him before now. Please go on. Tell me all you know of him.”
Stephen’s expression told her that he was not wholly content with her answer, but he did continue. “He spoke little of his family. I do believe that he loved his father, but I felt there was some bad blood between them. Of his mother I know nothing. He seemed reluctant to mention her at all. I do know that she died some few years after Raynor inherited.”
'Tis most odd, Elizabeth thought as he took a sip of his wine. With a pang, she recalled the deaths of her own parents by plague. She and her brothers often spoke of them, even now. They had been a close-knit family. It had been hard to lose them both so quickly, but she felt her father would not have been happy without his beloved wife.
Perhaps Lord Warwicke was one who did not wish to share his personal life with others. That he was something of a mystery simply made him all the more interesting to Elizabeth. He only needed the right person to confide in. Not that Elizabeth would allow herself to think that she could be that someone. She refused to go that far in her imaginings.
“What is he like now?” she queried softly. “Is he noble and kind and true?”
Stephen watched her intently. “We spoke of general matters, Beth. Many years have passed since we knew each other well but if he is anything like he was as a boy, Raynor is a decent sort. Neither saint nor devil, just a man. He was more open as a boy, but then, life has a way of changing people, does it not?” Stephen stopped, obviously tired of pretending he didn’t see her too-avid interest. “Have you taken a fancy to Raynor?” He laughed. “That’s a tangle, when you could have half the men in England, did you but want them. You don’t even know the man, in fact barely spoke to him.”
“I...” She scowled, her delicate brows meeting over her slender nose. Then she shrugged, deciding to just come out with the truth. There was no sense in prevaricating with Stephen, he knew her too well. “He is quite fascinating, don’t you think?”
“Well, I couldn’t really comment from a woman’s point of view, but I'll be content that you might think so. But hear me, Beth, you’d best set your sights elsewhere. From what he said tonight, I got the impression that Raynor is in no hurry to wed. He told me his personal life has been more than complicated of late. Raynor has a bastard