Rogan came back to her and, as always, Liana’s heart seemed to beat a little faster when he was near.
“Move your hands,” he said.
Liana looked into his eyes, saw the way the moonlight made them sparkle, and was aware of nothing else—until he brought his sword down on the log and hacked away a big piece of her skirt. She gaped at the hole and was utterly speechless. That embroidered silk had cost her quarterly rents from six farms!
“Now, come on,” he commanded, and turned his back on her again.
Swallow! she commanded herself. Fight the anger down and do not display it. A woman is always loving and kind. A woman does not point out her husband’s faults. Fighting her anger, she began to follow him and wondered if he was looking forward to their wedding night with as much anticipation as she was.
With every step he took, Rogan remembered ever more vividly his brother’s death. Two years’ time had done very little to dull the memory. Here he and Rowland had talked of buying horses. Here he and Rowland had talked of James and Basil’s deaths eight years before. Here Rowland had spoken of protecting Zared. Here—
“Could you tell me something of your castle? I’ll need to know where to hang my tapestries.”
Rogan had forgotten the girl was with him. William, who had been three years older than Rogan, died as a boy of eighteen. His dying words were to get the Peregrine lands back and that would make sense of his death.
“Is it a large place?” the girl asked.
“No,” he answered gruffly. “It is very small. It’s the discards of the Howard bitch.” He halted at the edge of the forest and gaped at the campsite. Before him was a sea of big feather mattresses on the ground. They might as well set up torches and blow trumpets to announce their whereabouts to the Howards.
Angrily, he strode across the campsite to reach his brother, who was talking and smiling at one of the Neville maids. He punched his brother’s shoulder to turn him around.
“What stupidity is this?” he demanded. “Why not invite the Howards down on our heads?”
Severn pushed Rogan’s shoulder. “We’re well guarded, and there are only a few mattresses for the women.”
Rogan punched Severn’s chest. “I want them out of sight. The women can sleep on the ground or they can go back to Neville.”
Severn doubled his fist and planted it in Rogan’s chest, but his heavier brother didn’t waver. “Some of the men want to sleep with the women.”
“All the better that they do not sleep too well. If a Howard comes, we’ll be ready—as we were not ready the night Rowland was butchered.”
Severn nodded at that and went to tell the men to stow the feather cushions.
At the edge of the forest, Liana stood and watched her husband and brother-in-law punch each other as if they were sworn enemies. She held her breath for fear their fight would erupt into bloodshed, but after a few minutes of low, guttural sentences, they separated, and Liana released her breath. She looked about her and saw some of her women staring, but none of the Peregrine knights seemed to take any notice of their masters’ rough exchange. Yet Liana knew that any one of those blows would have felled most men.
At that moment, Joice came running to her, her face contorted with emotion. “My lady, they have no tents. We are to sleep on the ground.” She said the last with horror.
Usually when they traveled, Liana, her father and stepmother, and most of the women, if they were not guests of another landowner, slept in sumptuous tents. Since they moved most of their furniture with them from castle to castle, the beds and even tables were set up inside the tents.
“And there is no hot food,” Joice continued. “We have only cold meats that were taken from your wedding feast. Two of the women are in tears.”
“Then they’ll have to dry their tears,” Liana snapped. “You have told me that a good wife does not complain. That goes as well for her maids.” Liana was much too excited about the prospect of the coming night to worry about cold meats and tents.
At a noise, both turned to see the Peregrine knights removing the feather pallets from the ground and returning them to inside the wagons.
“No!” Joice gasped, and went toward the men.
For the next hour, all was chaos as Liana settled her maids to sleeping on the ground under the stars. She removed bags full of furs from the wagons and had them put on the ground, skin side down, and this helped mollify the tears. A few of the Peregrine knights put their arms around the women and comforted them.
Liana had furs placed outside the camp, in the deep shade of an oak tree, for herself. Joice helped her remove her mutilated gown and put on a clean linen nightshirt, then Liana lay down and waited. And waited. And waited. But Rogan did not come to her. She had not slept the night before, and that and the long journey made her sleep even though she tried to stay awake to greet him. But she went to sleep with a smile on her lips, knowing how her husband would wake her.
Rogan lay down on the coarse woolen blankets near Severn, where he always slept on their journeys.
Sleepily, Severn turned to him. “I thought you had a wife now.”
“The Howards attack and I’m thrusting away at some girl,” Rogan said sarcastically.
“She’s a pretty little thing,” Severn said.