Stephen sat buried up to his neck in a tub of very hot water. His leg and should
er burned from the blows Roger had given him. His eyes were closed as he heard the door open and shut. “Go away!” he growled. “I’ll call when I need you.”
“And what will you call?” came an amused, familiar voice.
Stephen’s eyes flew open, and the next minute he was bounding across the room, nude, dripping water. “Chris!” he laughed as he clasped his friend to him.
Christopher Audley returned the greeting briefly, then pushed Stephen away. “You’re soaking me, and I don’t want to have to change again for your wedding. I haven’t missed it, have I?”
Stephen stepped back into the tub. “Sit over there so I can see you. You’ve lost weight again. Didn’t France agree with you?”
“It agreed too well. The women nearly wore me away with their demands.” He set a chair by the tub. He was a short, thin, dark man with a small nose and chin and a short, well-trimmed beard. His eyes were brown and large, rather like a doe’s. He used his soft, expressive eyes to their best advantage in bringing women to him.
He nodded toward Stephen’s shoulder and the bruise. “Is that a new wound? I didn’t know you’d been fighting lately.”
Stephen dipped a handful of water over the injury. “I had to fight Roger Chatworth for the woman I’m to wed.”
“Fight?” Chris said in astonishment. “I spoke to Gavin before I left, and he said you were almost sick at the prospect of the marriage.” He smiled. “I saw that wife of Gavin’s. She’s a beauty, but from what I hear she’s a hellion. She had the whole court agog with her escapades.”
Stephen waved his hand in dismissal. “Judith’s calm compared to Bronwyn.”
“Is Bronwyn the heiress you’re to marry? Gavin said she was fat and ugly.”
Stephen chuckled as he soaped his legs. “You won’t believe Bronwyn when you see her. She has hair so black that it almost makes a mirror. The sun flashes off of it. She has blue eyes and a chin that juts out in defiance every time I speak to her.”
“And the rest of her?”
Stephen sighed. “Magnificent!”
Chris laughed at Stephen’s tone. “Two brothers couldn’t be as fortunate as you and Gavin. But why did you have to fight for her? I thought King Henry gave her to you.”
Stephen stood up and caught the towel Chris tossed him. “I was four days late to the wedding, and I’m afraid Bronwyn has taken a…disliking to me. She has some absurd idea that if I marry her I must become a Scot, even change my name. I don’t know for sure, but I think Chatworth may have hinted that he’d do anything she wanted if she married him.”
Chris snorted. “And no doubt she believed him. Roger always could charm the women, but I’ve never trusted him.”
“We jousted for her, but when I tossed him in the dirt, he came at my back with a war club.”
“The bastard! I always wondered how much of his brother was in him. Edmund was a vile man. I guess you won the fight.”
“I was so damn mad that he’d attack me that I was close to killing him. Actually he begged me to do so, said I’d insult him if I didn’t.”
Chris was thoughtful for a moment. “You’ve made an enemy of him. That could be bad.”
Stephen walked to the bed, where his wedding clothes lay. “I don’t blame the man for trying for Bronwyn. She’d make any man fight for her.”
Chris grinned. “I’ve never seen you act this way toward a woman before.”
“I’ve never seen a woman like Bronwyn before.” He stopped, then yelled “Come in” to a knock on the door.
A young maidservant stood there, her arms outstretched, a shimmering gown of silver cloth across them. She stared at the bare-chested Stephen.
“What is it?” he demanded. “Why didn’t you give the dress to the Lady Bronwyn?”
The girl’s lower lip trembled.
Stephen pulled his shirt on, then took the dress from the girl. “You can tell me,” he said quietly. “I know the Lady Bronwyn has a sharp tongue. I won’t beat you for repeating what she said.”
The girl looked up. “She was in the hall, my lord, when I found her, and there were several people about. I gave her the dress, and she seemed to like it.”