“Greedy wench!” He squeezed her tightly until she yelped for breath. “When you are no longer sore from this plowing, sweetheart.”
14
Graelam led his fatigued men into the inner bailey, a smile leaping to his eyes at the sight of Kassia, clutching her gown above her ankles so she would not trip, hurtling down the steps of the great hall toward him. He quickly dismounted, tossed Demon’s reins to the stable hand, and caught her up in his arms. He held her above his head for a moment, feeling her warm laughter flow over him like soothing balm.
“Welcome home, my lord! Did all go well at Crandall? Who is the new castellan? There was no fighting, was there? You were not hurt?”
He gave her a quick kiss and set her down, aware that every eye in the castle was enjoying their reunion. “So many questions,” he teased her softly. “Everything is fine, Kassia,” he added quickly, seeing her pale at the dried blood on his sleeve.
“But your arm,” she said in a shaking voice.
“I took a fall when Demon slipped, ’tis naught. Such a welcome, and I was away but four days.”
She laughed and hugged him. “When I was told you were approaching, I ordered water taken to our bedchamber for your bath. Or would you prefer some ale first? Come, my lord, and I will attend you.”
He smiled at her tumbling excitement. “I will follow in a moment. First I must see to Demon. I fear his hock is bruised.”
“May I help you, my lord?”
Graelam turned to Evian. “Well, boy, you are looking fit. Aye, come with me. My lady, soon.” He added, dropping his voice. “ ’Tis more than a bath that I desire.”
He grinned at the rush of color to her cheeks, patted her shoulder, and strode toward the stables, Evian trying valiantly to keep pace with him.
“You are looking well, my lady,” Guy said, drawing her attention from her husband’s retreating figure.
“What? Oh, Guy!”
He mocked her gently. “You are not concerned about my health, my lady?”
“You, sir,” she said with a scolding frown, “are but a worthless knave! It is your responsibility to see that my lord comes to no harm.”
“True,” Guy sighed. “I fear Graelam’s thoughts were on other things, thus his clumsiness. He is the only one of us who has shucked off his fatigue like an old cloak, and all at the sight of you, my lady.”
Kassia laughed disclaimingly but turned pink with pleasure at his words.
“I see Blanche hovering about like a disapproving abbess,” Guy observed.
Kassia’s smile faded somewhat.
“Has she been a trial to you, my lady?”
“Nay, truly, ’tis just that she . . . well, she is unhappy, Guy.”
“I imagine she tries to treat you like an unwanted guest,” he said shrewdly. “Graelam should find her a husband, and soon.” But something deep within him hated that thought. Damn her, he thought, irritated at both himself and her. Why couldn’t she let go? But he knew the answer to that. Blanche was strong-willed and determined. She could see no other course open to her.
“She spends much of her time in the chapel,” Kassia said. “I fear she is praying not for a husband, but for ways of doing me in. But enough of my woes, Guy! What happened at Crandall?”
“All went just as Graelam thought, and I will leave your husband to tell you about it.”
“No fighting? No attempt at treachery?”
“Nay, ’twas revoltingly tame.”
“You may be disappointed because there were no heads to knock together, but I am relieved! Just you wait for supper. ’Tis my major accomplishment in the four days you have been absent.”
“Strung that varlet Dayken up by his worthless heels?”
“Nay, but I did discover that one of his assistants, a poor fellow who spent most of his time being kicked about and cursed, is really quite accomplished. ’Tis he who now does the cursing!”