Her gaze snapped up to him as horror shot through her. “But I do not wish to wed, Papa!”
“I know that,” he responded, his words steady, “but wed you will, Maris. And by Christ’s Mass next. ”
“Nay!” The denial sprang from her lips in a whisper.
He appeared not to hear her. “I’ve sifted through the many suitors that have inquired for your hand—”
“You misspeak yourself, Papa, they inquire not for my hand but for my lands. Nothing more than that,” Maris said wryly, swallowing back the heavy lump in her throat. “Would that you had heirs other than me, that I could choose my husband. ”
He gave a short laugh. “If you were to choose your husband, that occasion would never happen!”
“But Papa—”
Merle’s bushy eyebrows furrowed and he raised a silencing hand. “You’re the heiress to Langumont, Maris. Lady of Firmain and Cleonis. You cannot disown your heritage, and your husband must be worthy of you. ” He leaned toward her, his blue eyes serious. “I have made certain that you are lady of the lands in your own right. ’Tis writ, and I would not wish to see you lose that power. You will rule in your own right, just as our queen yet does—but a husband is needed to ensure that you remain able to do so. ”
“Papa, have you not allowed me to learn to ride and hunt as well as a man? Have you not insisted that I learn to read and write so I can keep my own accounts? Yet you feel that I am not able to retain hold of my own lands without a husband. ” She looked imploringly at her father, her small hand resting over his big one. “Do not force me to marry yet, please, Papa. ”
He was shaking his head slowly. “Aye, Maris, I insisted that you be as able to rule your lands as a man, yet never did I disallow the fact that you must marry. It is the best for Langumont, too, daughter. Langumont, which you purport to love as much as you do me. The people cannot be left without a strong liege to protect them, and, intelligent and brave as you are, my dearling, you cannot ride into battle and defend the lands. And there is the matter of your own heir, my dearling. ”
Maris opened her mouth to argue, then closed it as she realized he spoke the truth. She had known, had she not, that this day would come. As much as she had ignored it, tried to believe it would never happen…nay, it had always been on the horizon. She bit her lip and swallowed, then looked at him. “Papa, at the least, do not force me to wed with a man I do not know. ”
“Maris, I am not fond of the word ‘force’. You will do your duty, and you will trust me and accept my decision for your husband. Have I not always taken the best care of you? I cannot allow this matter to remain unsettled any longer. ” He paused for a sip of his own wine. “The son of the man who saved my life in battle rides to Langumont,” he told her. “Take care that you do not offend him, nor drive him away as you flaunt your horsemanship and archery skills. ”
“Who is he?” she asked, a note of desperation creeping into her voice. Her fate had already been sealed.
“You shall meet him,” he promised.
“Aye, Papa,” she said, staring studiously at the hands in her lap.
“Good girl, Maris. ” He put his arm around her, pulling her shoulder to his. “Know that I want only what is best for you. ”
“Aye, Papa,” she said again, struggling to keep the sadness from her voice.
After a few moments of silence, she rose slowly. “I’ll to bed now, my lord. ” She kissed his cheek gently.
“Sleep well, child,” he said quietly, brushing her face.
Merle hoisted himself carefully into bed. His muscles ached, not to mention the wound in his side that was barely healed enough to sit ahorse.
Allegra sat in the bed next to him. She had dismissed her maid Maella after the woman brushed out her mistress’s long hair and braided it in its customary plait. Curls framed her face as her wide gaze fastened on her husband. He sensed her tension, and not understanding the reason for it, reached to take her cold fingers.
“’Tis glad I am to be home,” he told her, bringing them to his mouth for a soft kiss. “And back in my own chamber this night, at least. ”
“And I too,” she murmured, pulling her hand away as she reached over to pull the draperies about the bed.
“Maris is grown to a beautiful lady,” he said, staring at the velvet draperies as she drew them together. “’Tis well past time for her to be wed. ”
Allegra froze. “My lord?”
“Aye. She will be wed within the year. ’Tis not safe for her otherwise. ”
“My lord, you—but my lord, you may not find a worthy man in the year. ”
“Aye, yet I have found one. One that is worthy of my Maris’s hand, worthy to have Langumont. ” He scratched his belly and looked at her slim form with interest. It had been a long while since he’d bedded his wife, and though she wasn’t the most receptive woman he’d coupled with, she was his wife, and she was there.
“Who is it?” she asked, her voice thin and tight.
“’Tis the son of a dear friend. ” He struggled under the blankets to twist and show her the ugly wound in his side.