Page 57 of Roland

Page List


Font:  

All Is Not Lost

Roland and Adrien were perusing a selection of outfits laid out on the beds in their chamber when William arrived unexpectedly and dismissed the servant assigned as their valet.

His hair still wet from the bath and wearing only his chausses, Roland felt at a disadvantage. The stern set of his cousin’s chin had him worried.

“Did you find anything to your liking?” William asked. “My steward can procure other clothing if nothing suits.”

“These will do nicely,” Adrien replied with a polite smile. “They look to be a better fit than the garments you borrowed from Kendall d’Aigremont, to be frank.”

Roland was certain a discussion of clothing wasn’t the reason his cousin had come to their chamber. “Is something wrong?” he asked, shrugging on a red tunic.

“Forgive me if I am mistaken,” William began, looking directly at Roland. “I sense there is something between you and Lady Adelina.”

Roland’s hackles prickled. Surely his English cousin didn’t intend to pursue her romantically. He didn’t want to have William as his rival. “She is my betrothed,” he declared, narrowing his eyes, “and under my protection.”

William exhaled. “That news comes as a relief. It was impossible to miss the spark between you. However, there is something you must know about the de Quinceys.”

Roland braced his legs, suspecting he wasn’t going to like whatever William was about to say.”Go on.”

“I haven’t told them yet. It’s about Melton Manor.”

Roland’s patience was wearing thin. “What about it?”

“When the king put it up for auction, I bought it.”

“That’s wonderful,” Adrien exclaimed. “The property remains in Montbryce hands.”

“And I secured the right to hand it back to the de Quincey family should Terric be found alive.”

A creature wearing spiked boots raced up Roland’s spine. This was good news, though Terric would obviously no longer be forced to flee to Normandie. He might pressure his sister into staying at Melton. “When do you plan to tell them?” he asked.

“Directly,” William replied. “I wasn’t sure if you would want to be present.”

Roland had no intention of begging Adelina to accompany him to Normandie. She would have to make that decision without interference from him. “I think it would be best if I am not there,” he replied, shaking his head.

William eyed him curiously before nodding. “Then, I invite you to join me in my solar for the evening meal, let’s say in an hour.”

Roland stared at the door after his cousin’s departure, his emotions all at sea—until his brother’s firm hand on his shoulder jolted him back to the chamber.

“Don’t worry,” Adrien said. “She’ll choose you.”

“I hope so,” he muttered, fearing he might yet lose the love of his life.

* * *

Feeling more capable of dealing with the earl now he had bathed and was suitably dressed, Terric was proud to escort his sister into William’s solar. He sensed she too felt renewed in clean clothing, albeit borrowed from some lady in Ellesmere.

He was surprised Roland and Adrien were absent, but supposed they would arrive momentarily.

Huge tapestries adorned the walls of the solar. The chairs William invited them to sit in were solid, yet comfortable. Every piece of furniture, from the enormous armoire and elaborately carved chests to the highly polished oak table and chairs bespoke wealth and quality. Rugs from eastern climes warmed the planked floor. A hearty fire blazed in the hearth.

Terric conjured a vision of his Montbryce ancestors relaxing in this opulent chamber. He felt uneasy, though, when William cleared his throat several times. He and Adelina exchanged a cautious glance. She too had sensed there was something William wanted to get off his chest.

After a few minutes of meaningless small talk, their cousin took up a stance before the hearth, legs braced and hands behind his back.

Terric clenched his jaw. “Is something amiss?” he asked.

“It’s about Melton Manor,” William replied. “I purchased it from the king’s agent and secured the right to hand it back to the de Quincey family should you be found alive.”


Tags: Anna Markland Historical