Rosamund sucked in air. Her gaze followed Oliver’s broad, well-muscled back as, head high, he passed through the curtained doorway and was escorted out of sight. Dimly, she was conscious of an excited buzz starting up around her. Speculative eyes shifted from Alfwold, to her, and then back to Baron Geoffrey.
Her lord was muttering in French to his mother. Lady Adeliza nodded and lifted her head. She beckoned imperiously. ‘Girl! You may approach the board.’
Rosamund’s jaw dropped for Lady Adeliza had addressed her in English, in flawless English. Heart pounding, she went to the dais.
‘Closer, girl, I would see your features.’ Lady Adeliza said, looking her over from top to toe. ‘You don’t seem afraid.’
Rosamund swallowed. ‘Fear is not uppermost in my mind, my lady.’
Lady Adeliza’s dark eyes narrowed. Rosamund didn’t think she was angry. Startled, but not angry.
‘Do you like children, girl?’
Rosamund’s brow wrinkled, she couldn’t see where this was leading. ‘Yes, my lady. And my name is Rosamund.’
Alfwold gasped. ‘Rosamund, for pity’s sake, remember who you’re speaking to.’
Rosamund kept her gaze on Lady Adeliza which was why she saw her lips twitch. Yes, Lady Adeliza was amused. Her spine stiffened. She and Alfwold were nothing but a source of amusement to these people. Marie was right, they had no hearts.
‘Good,’ Lady Adeliza said, briskly. ‘You are refreshingly direct, vaguely intelligible and fairly presentable. You’ll do. Marie will show you your duties. Away with you.’ Waving a hand in the direction of the lower trestle, she turned back to her son. ‘Geoffrey, I can’t say I was pleased when I heard what you’d done. But on reflection, I think you may be right.’ She shook her head. ‘Although part of me can’t help thinking that you’ve always been too soft with Cecily, she should have been sent to a convent years ago...’
‘Mother, what happened was my fault, I’ll not have her dropped in a well and forgotten.’
Lady Adeliza put her hand on her son’s arm. ‘Very well, Geoffrey, I have agreed. There, are you happy?’
Rosamund stepped forward. ‘My lady?’
Lady Adeliza’s dark eyes went wide. ‘I thought I ordered you to return to your place?’
‘You did, my lady, but I cannot obey. I’m married to Alfwold.’
‘You are married to Alfwold.’
‘Yes, my lady.’
Lady Adeliza’s breast heaved. ‘You – Alfwold!’
‘M..my lady?’
‘I need your wife as a...nurse within the castle. She is required to live here. You will be paid for her services and should she be dismissed for any reason, I will make certain she is brought back safe to you. Satisfied?’
‘But, my lady, Rosamund is my wife. Am I never to see her?’
‘Enough!’ Sir Geoffrey thumped his goblet down and ale showered onto the snowy linen. ‘The girl was my vassal long before she became your wife. Her father owes his position at the mill to my favour. Should I give the word, there are plenty other villagers who’d be more than happy to take over from him.’
Alfwold flinched.
‘The point has gone home, my son,’ Lady Adeliza murmured.
Sir Geoffrey looked consideringly at Alfwold. ‘I wonder? The man looks something of a clod to me.’
‘My lord!’ Fists clenched, eyes anguished, Alfwold strained to be free. ‘Call off your hounds, I can do you no harm.’
The baron nodded and the guards stood back. They remained watchful – should the need arise they would be at Alfwold’s throat in a heartbeat.
‘My lord,’ Alfwold licked his lips. ‘My marred skin proclaims my trade.’
‘You’re a stone dresser.’
‘Yes, my lord. And in pursuing my trade, I get to travel more than most. I’ve seen more than most too. And I see that this warring among factions is used as an excuse for much lawlessness on the part of certain barons.’
‘Alfwold, no!’ Rosamund wrung her hands. The baron’s face had stiffened, and Lady Adeliza had gone very still. Everyone was listening. She held her breath, she had never thought to see such passion in Alfwold, nor so much anguish.
‘Wife, I will speak.’ Visibly trembling, Alfwold ploughed on. ‘I’ve seen some cruel things. But never have I seen a man, noble or peasant, who dared to separate a man and his wife. You put your soul at risk, my lord. God will damn you for this, He will damn you.’
The baron jerked to his feet, and his chair tipped back with a crash. ‘God’s Blood, you upbraid me at my own table? I’ve had men flogged for less.’