Stephen smiled and thought that the last thing Gavin cared about was his wife’s money. “Raine is still talking about his absurd ideas about the treatment of serfs.”
“And Miles?”
Stephen finished the wine in his cup. “Miles presented us with another of his bastard children last week. That makes three, or four, I lost count. If he were a stallion, we’d be rich.”
Sir Thomas laughed and refilled both metal goblets.
Stephen looked up at the older man as he lifted his drink again. Sir Thomas had been a friend of his father’s, an honorary uncle who brought the boys gifts from his many trips abroad, had been at Stephen’s christening twenty-six years ago. “Now that we’re through with that,” Stephen said slowly, “perhaps you’ll tell me what you’re hiding.”
Sir Thomas chuckled, a soft sound deep within his throat. “You know me too well. It’s nothing really, an unpleasantness, nothing serious. Roger Chatworth has spent a great deal of time with your bride, ’tis all.”
Standing up slowly, Stephen walked toward the fireplace. Bits of mud fell from his clothes as he moved. Sir Thomas could not know what the name Chatworth meant to Stephen. Alice Valence had been his brother’s mistress for years. Repeatedly, Gavin had asked her to marry him. She refused, preferring to marry the rich Edmund Chatworth. Soon after her marriage, Edmund was murdered and Alice reappeared in Gavin’s life. She was a treacherous woman, and she had climbed into bed with a drunken, sleepy Gavin, then arranged for Judith to see them together. In her agony Judith fell down the stairs and lost her child and nearly lost her own life.
Roger Chatworth was Alice’s brother-in-law, and even the mention of the name made Stephen grit his teeth.
“There must be more to this,” Stephen said finally.
“Bronwyn hinted last evening that perhaps she’d be more pleased with Roger for a husband than one who is so…discourteous.”
Stephen smiled and went back to the chair. “And how does Roger take all this?”
“He seems amenable. He rides with her each morning, escorts her to supper in the evening, spends time in the garden with her.”
Stephen drank the last of the wine and began to relax. “It’s well known that the Chatworths are a greedy bunch, but I didn’t know to what degree. He must be very hungry to endure the woman’s company.”
“Endure?” Sir Thomas asked, surprised.
“There’s no need to be dishonest with me. I heard how she fought like a man when she was surrounded, and worse how even her own father considered her enough of a man to name her his successor. I almost feel sorry for Roger. It would serve him right if I let him have the hideous woman.”
Sir Thomas stood with his mouth agape, then slowly his eyes began to twinkle. “Hideous, is she?” he chuckled.
“What else could she be? Don’t forget I’ve spent some time in Scotland. A wilder, more savage group of people I’ve never run across. But what could I say to King Henry? He thought he was rewarding me. If I stepped aside and let Roger have her he’d forever be in my debt. Then I could marry some sweet, pretty little woman who wouldn’t try to borrow my armor. Yes,” he smiled, “that’s just what I think I’ll do.”
“I agree with you,” Sir Thomas said firmly. “Bronwyn is truly a hideous woman. I’m sure Roger is only interested in her land. But just so you can tell King Henry you were fair, why don’t you meet her? I’m sure she’ll take one look at you, filthy as you are, and refuse to marry you.”
“Yes.” Stephen grinned, his white teeth only making him seem dirtier by contrast. “Then tomorrow both the woman and I can tell Roger of our decision. Then I can go home. Yes, Sir Thomas, it’s a splendid idea.”
Sir Thomas’s eyes shone like a boy’s; they fairly danced. “You show an uncommon wisdom for a man so young. Just wait here, and I’ll have her brought down the back stairs to this room.”
Stephen gave a low whistle. “Back stairs, is it? She must be worse than I imagine.”
“You’ll see, my boy. You’ll see,” Sir Thomas said as he left the room.
Bronwyn sat buried to her chin in a tub of hot, steamy water. Her eyes were closed, and she was thinking about going home. Roger would be with her, and together they’d lead her clan. It was a picture she was beginning to conjure more and more often in the last few days. Roger was one Englishman she could understand. Every day he seemed to know more about the Scots.
As Morag burst into the room she opened her eyes. “He’s here,” the old woman announced.
“Who is here?” Bronwyn asked stubbornly, knowing exactly whom Morag meant.
Morag ignored her question. “He’s talking to Sir Thomas but I’m sure ye’ll be called for in a few minutes, so get out of that water and get dressed. Ye kin wear the blue dress.”
Bronwyn leaned her head back. “I’m not finished with my bath, and I have no intention of meeting him merely because he’s bothered to appear. He kept me waiting for four days, so maybe I’ll make him wait for five.”
“Ye’re bein’ childish, as ye well know. The stable boy said the man’s horses had been run near to death. Ye can see he tried to get here in a hurry.”
“Or perhaps he always mistreats his horses.”
“Ye’re not too big to take a switch to! Now get out of that tub or I’ll throw a bucket of cold water over yer head.”