Elaine smiled dazzlingly and embraced him and his heart lifted. She was wonderful, everything he had thought she would be and more. If only she were not so often ill.
He took her to his estate in the country, thinking the air would be more pure there. Elaine seemed bored and listless, but her colour was better and he thought she seemed stronger.
They had been home less than three weeks when a ship came to port carrying a number of Elaine’s friends. And they came carrying evil tidings. Her father had been murdered in a tavern brawl. To his horror, Elaine fainted dead away. Bernarr ordered the servants to carry her to her room and then turned his fury on her friends.
Zakry, the squire’s third son of whom Elaine was once so fond, seemed overcome with astonishment. His handsome features slowly turned from amazement to anger under the Baron’s blistering attack. ‘I would never try to hurt the Lady Elaine!’ he exploded. ‘She is very dear to me.’ For a moment Bernarr was certain the boy would draw his sword, and found himself anticipating the confrontation with pleasure. Then, Zakry seemed to come to himself and gestured behind him to where his friends stood. ‘To all of us. I apologize for being insensitive to your lady’s delicate nature. We should have anticipated what a shock the news would be.’
They all nodded and curtsyed and murmured their agreement.
Bernarr looked at them, his nostrils pinched with disapproval and his face white with rage. ‘Because my wife has such regard for you, and because you meant well by coming here I will, of course, extend to you the hospitality of my house. But I warn you, at the slightest hint that you are upsetting her, I will order you to leave.’ With that, Bernarr spun on his heel and followed the servants to his lady’s quarters, to sit by her bed until she woke.
Indeed, it seemed to Bernarr that Zakry’s estimation of Elaine’s feelings for her father was correct. For, although she should have been in deep mourning, after recovering from her faint, she showed no signs of distress: rather, she spent all of her time with her old friends, laughing and gossiping and even dancing and singing. Bernarr didn’t approve; it was unseemly. And yet, he could deny her nothing. Especially since he’d met her wretched father and could well understand her lack of concern. It must have been a horror being raised alone by such as he. Still, after several social galas Elaine organized and many forays into the city to shop, the local squires and rich merchants could barely hide their disapproval of her frivolous manner. He felt embarrassed. Yet he forgave her everything, accounting her actions to her youth and the influence of her callow friends.
He wanted to stay by her side every moment, but the duties he’d left behind had piled up over the months he’d been away and there was always work to be done. Often he was called away to the city, or away at nearby villages, conducting the business of the barony, and was gone for two or three days. The old castle overlooking the city was garrisoned, but it was otherwise empty, lacking even a pretence of occupation. Other than soldiers and his personal secretary and the city officials who visited, Bernarr was alone. On those occasions, he burned with jealousy and hated himself for it.
He knew her friends were leading her into unseemly behaviour. Elaine meant well, but she was so innocent that she truly saw no harm in their silly play that in this time of mourning bordered on the debauched. Not in Rillanon, perhaps, but certainly in Land’s End.
He must do something! At the very least he must do something about Zakry. He was the instigator, the one who led them all astray. Get rid of him and the problem was all but solved.
Yes, something must be done, and soon.
The old man’s pain did not lessen in his sleep, but the thin lips with their deep vertical grooves pulled back from yellow teeth. There was little strength left in his face, but for a moment an observer might have seen him as he had been in youth and anger, a cold pale rage the deadlier for coming from the mind as much as the heart.
But there was nobody to see; no one at all. Outside the door stood two members of the household guard. Hand-picked, they followed orders, and the orders were the same tonight as they had been every night since they had taken duty with the Baron: no matter what they heard or thought they heard from within the Baron’s chamber after he retired for the night, they were never to enter unless called for by name by the Baron. Both men on duty were used to cries and moans and curses. Both men ignored the piteous weeping they heard at that moment.
Images cascaded, one on top of the next, and Bernarr gripped the sheets as a drowning man would a lifeline.
He was hunting, and Elaine’s friends were with him. An arrow flew, killing a boar, and Bernarr turned in rage. The impudent whelp had robbed Bernarr of his kill!