“—a lady to add comfort to your keep.” The duke paused, seeing Graelam frown. It was true, he thought, he was meddling. It was none of his affair. “Aye,” he said, “a lovely mistress. Perhaps I will see you both in London,” he added, “if I can but convince my nephew to return to England. I plan myself to oversee his coronation.”
“Edward loves splendor and ceremony,” Graelam said. “Make your
letters to him reek of this and perhaps you’ll seduce him home.”
“Aye, mayhap I will.” The duke rubbed his hands together. “Mayhap I will hint to him of rebellion. Edward is like you, Graelam. He prefers nothing more than fighting. I must take my leave. My lady, I came to Wolffeton expecting to be bored with ceremony. You provided a charming diversion.”
10
Kassia carefully held up her skirts, not wanting to dirty them in the muck from the rain that had fallen earlier in the afternoon. It was disgraceful, she thought, filth so close to the cooking outbuilding. Her husband obviously had no interest in the place where his meals were prepared, but Kassia kept her thoughts to herself, for the moment.
“You are not overtiring yourself?”
“Oh no, my lord,” Kassia said quickly. “Your keep is surely vast, but I wish to see all of it.”
“Even the armorer’s?”
There was a touch of amusement in his deep voice, and Kassia, emboldened by it, smiled impishly up at him. “Aye,” she said, “even the armorer’s. Perhaps I can give him some suggestions to improve your gear.”
They toured the falconery after the armory, and Graelam, seeing Kassia’s excitement, gave her a peregrine falcon for a gift.
“He is mine?” she asked, gazing at the beautiful bird, who was in turn regarding her with an unblinking stare.
“Aye, he is yours.”
“Oh, thank you, my lord!” Without thought, Kassia clasped his arms in her delight at his generosity.
“Do you hunt?” he asked, smiling down at her.
She nodded happily and turned quickly away from him to croon soft words to her falcon. “What is he called, my lord?”
“Strangely enough, his name is Hawk.”
Her tinkling laughter rang out. “Ah, you are much too noble to carry such an insulting name,” she said to her falcon.
“When you are stronger, we will hunt,” Graelam said. “Hawk can bring down a heron without breaking his speed.”
Kassia wanted to tell him that she was strong as a mule, but indeed she was tiring. The long journey had weakened her. That, and coming face to face with a man who was her husband, and a stranger.
“I thank you, my lord,” she said. “You are very kind.”
Her voice rang with sincerity and Graelam felt inordinately uncomfortable for a moment. “Your father, my lady,” he said harshly, “was perhaps overly generous in his view of me.”
“My father,” Kassia said firmly, “is never wrong about a person’s character.”
“Thus I am kind because Maurice tells you so?”
“Aye, and of course, you did give me Hawk.”
“I did, did I not?” Graelam said. “Come, Kassia, it is beginning to rain again. I do not wish you to become ill.”
Graelam strode toward the keep, Kassia hiking up her skirts to keep up with him. He turned at a sharp cry and saw her stumble on a slick cobblestone. He caught her easily and lifted her in his arms.
“I am clumsy,” she said in a breathless voice.
“And you weigh no more than a child.”
Kassia turned her body against him and he felt her soft breasts against his chest. His body reacted immediately. She was his wife and he could take her now, if he wished. His breathing quickened.