LITMIR.BIZ

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remember his first love and know not to expect more than the affection from a spouse who understood their relationship as he did. Even as he let the thoughts free, he knew them for the sham they were.

      He would not lie to himself—he would keep company with Catherine when he could and would use the task she’d agreed to in order to keep her near until the last possible moment. Then they would part. If it were to be difficult in this next week, then so be it. He would be with Cate and that would make it worth the pain.

      Geoff strode through the great hall and made his way to his chambers.

      “They are in love.”

      “It has no bearing on what is to come.”

      Emalie sighed. How could her husband be so obstinate, even after their own trials? Turning to face him in the shadows where they stood, she thought of how best to approach this problem.

      “Love means nothing to you?” Sometimes she needed to prod him out of his arrogance and into realizing the value of the intangibles that surrounded him. ’Twas ever his failing.

      “Your love has meant everything to me and you know it. But as we found it after we married, so will Geoffrey. If he accepts our guidance in the matter of a wife and chooses well, love will come.” Christian held out his arm to her and she placed her hand on it.

      She sighed again. How could such intelligent and powerful men be such fools? She had seen this coming almost from the first time Catherine had visited from the convent and met Geoffrey. Soul mates. Two halves of the same soul that were meant to be joined together. How could her husband not see that?

      “You are too quiet. That does not bode well for me, wife.”

      “She was a victim as well, Christian. Do you hold her accountable for his sins, too?”

      “She has no family….” he said. Emalie thought to correct him, but his growing anger was apparent. “She has no family, no wealth and no titles. She is not suitable to marry my brother.”

      Emalie began to answer him, but Christian drew to a stop and pointed at her. “Do not think to meddle or gainsay me in this, wife. I have my limits.”

      She looked away and let him lead her to their chambers without further argument. She knew he thought he had won this one, but she would have the last word. Catherine had suffered much and did not deserve to be held in dishonor because of her brother’s actions. Even if those actions had been against Emalie’s own person.

      Emalie stopped at the door to her room and blocked her husband from following her into her sleeping chamber. His puzzlement was clear and she was glad. Mayhap it would make him think about his unkind attitude and words.

      “Even after three years and countless steps forward, you are still a prig.”

      She slammed the door closed and forced herself not to laugh at the astonished look on his face as she did so.

      Chapter Four

      Melissande.

      Marguerite.

      Mathilde.

      Maude.

      Melissande, Marguerite, Mathilde and Maude. The names did not bode well for him, for he had to always struggle to remember them. Now he was saddled with meeting strangers and trying to keep their names and faces in his memory.

      Had his sister-by-marriage forgotten the lessons she’d learned about the letters of the alphabet? Even he knew that there were more letters than simply M and certainly women whose names did not begin so. Apparently, the only suitable women who had been invited to Greystone were those whose names began with an M.

      “No, my lord Geoffrey, I did not limit my search for suitable wives to women whose names began thus. ’Twould only seem so.”

      Surprised that he’d said the words aloud, he noticed the mischievous grin that teased the corners of Emalie’s mouth. Seeing the matching glint in her eye, he was not convinced that it was unintentional. For confusion? For levity? Her reasons he knew not, but they were there somewhere.

      “You mentioned six prospective wives. Two seem to be missing.”

      Although Emalie’s lips tightened at his comment, his brother’s snort of amusement was loud enough to be heard by those below table, as well as those at it.

      “The ladies Petronilla and Phillippa are late risers, my lord. They tend to like the activities of the afternoon and evening far more than those in the morn.”

      Ah. Well, four were easier to manage than six, so Geoffrey would use this early time to meet the two who were not present at the meal and dancing last eve, before meeting the others, the P ladies, later in the day.

      “Emalie,” he whispered to her after realizing she used the title not yet known by those here. “I thought we’d decided that I was simply a knight for now?”

      “’Twould seem, brother, that word of our bargain with Richard has escaped, in spite of our best efforts.” Christian looked neither pleased nor displeased by this lapse.

      Gazing around the tables, Geoffrey now understood why there was so much wealth and beauty on display. As much as he hunted a bride, their families hunted him.

      “So, I am worthwhile now that they know I am a marquis?”

      Christian snickered and leaned across Emalie to answer. “And worth far more when you inherit the title of Comte de Langier and become the sole owner of the lands that lie between Anjou, Poitou and Aquitaine.”

      “Do not spare me, brother. Why are they truly here?” Geoff gnashed his teeth at his change in status. Not now. He wanted time without the pressure of his true title being known.

      Christian threw him a look that confirmed his suspicions—he was more valuable than any of the women to be considered. Their fathers wanted him for the lands and titles he would have upon his investiture, and the connections to the Plantagenet crown and the proximity to the French one.

      “The hunter has become the prey, I fear, brother,” Christian answered. “All of my hopes to accomplish this before your inheritance was known are for naught.”

      “Has anyone asked outright?”

      “Nay, no one yet, although many hints have been dropped in initial discussions.”

      Geoffrey broke off another chunk of cheese and chewed it. Leaning back as he washed the food down with some ale, he considered his choices. He could ignore the inevitable gossip or he could have Christian make the announcement of the terms of Richard’s agreement with the Dumont family. The news would be known as soon as negotiations began in earnest with the family of whomever he chose, so mayhap disclosure was best now. Subterfuge made him uncomfortable, a failing that Christian warned him about.

      “My apologies, Geoff. I knew that word was out as soon as the rest of them gathered together in the hall this morn. Their visits and times of introduction were to be spread out over several days, not made into a marriage market like this.”

      He nodded as his brother continued. “But none would allow another an advantage in showing off his daughter to you unchallenged. So, here they are.”

      The speculation in the gazes that met his told the story. Those assembled wanted or needed him more than they wanted to hold on to their daughter or the wealth they would need to give away in the bargain.

      A marriage to Melissande of Quercy would produce a united border with the south and west of France and make the duke more valuable to Philip Augustus. Marguerite of Brittany would strengthen the Plantagenet hold on that area and stem the tide of support for the French king. The count from Navarre would gain a foothold deep in the Plantagenet provinces and secure his borders with Gascony. The marquis who held lands near Orleans and owed fealty for those lands directly to the king of France would gain esteem for capturing a favorite of King Richard’s as his son-by-marriage. Marriage to either of the English heiresses would put more of England and Wales

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