What was Angus thinking to bring her here? And of equal surprise and disturbance was her daughter’s accompaniment, to which Lothaire was more opposed considering the girl’s attempt to strike her mother. She ought to be confined to her chamber.
He muffled a curse. He may not wish Clarice for a daughter, but if Laura would not control the girl’s impulses, he would quickly learn the role of a father. Clarice would not abuse her mother and destroy the order in his household—whatever little he had.
He dropped the hammer, spat out the nails pinched between his lips, and snatched up the tunic tossed aside when labor and the day’s heat conspired to make it one with his torso and arms. As he dragged on the garment, he heard the giving of a seam forced over perspiring flesh, and when he yanked it down his hips, felt another yield.
Fool, he berated himself. She who surprises you is not unfamiliar with a man’s bared body.
That nearly made him wish he had not covered himself, but still there was Clarice who would be old enough to wed away in as few as four years. Surely he had done as a father would the longer to preserve a young lady’s innocence…
As the half dozen riders neared, among them three men-at-arms who were to repair the aged fence, Lothaire set his gaze upon Angus who would aid him and the shepherd in separating the lambs from this flock’s mothers as should have been done a fortnight past.
The knight awaited the look his lord gave him, with apology shook his head.
What had been so difficult about refusing to allow Laura and her daughter to accompany him? And what was of such import it could not await his return?
Determinedly suppressing the shame of a lord reduced to common labor, Lothaire looked closer upon Laura as she neared.
Like Angus, she awaited his gaze. Unlike the knight, her color was high as if she was exerted by the ride. Did he not know better, he would think her flush a result of embarrassment at glimpsing his bared torso and now his dampened tunic embracing his muscles.
But no maiden was she, he once more reminded himself. And no evidence need be offered beyond the girl perched before her, she who was likely of Michael D’Arci.
Lothaire strode forward, gripped the horse’s halter, and squinted up at his betrothed. “You ought not be here, my lady. I cannot think why Sir Angus allowed you to leave the castle.”
He heard her swallow, sensed her determination to keep her eyes from moving down him.
“As I needed to speak with you, and Sir Angus could offer little hope of your return ere I seek my bed this eve, I insisted.” She glanced at the knight. “Much to his regret, I am sure, I gave him no opportunity to depart without me.”
Lothaire breathed deep, momentarily savored the scent of moist earth and the grass sprung from it. “What is so important it could not wait?”
She opened her mouth, closed it, glanced at her daughter. “I would speak in private.”
If she did not wish Clarice to be privy to their conversation, why had she brought her? Had the girl made it difficult to refuse? Likely.
Patience, he counseled and shifted his regard to Clarice.
To his surprise, she smiled tentatively. “If you would lift me down, Lord Soames, my mother and you can speak whilst I play with the lambs.” She nodded at the flock of one hundred ewes and their babies who were to be babies no longer.
He cleared his throat. “I will lift you down, but you will not approach the lambs.”
“Why?” she said with offense.
“Their mothers will butt you ere thanking you for playing with their babies. And ’tis no mere nudge, I vow.”
She sighed and reached to him.
Lothaire lowered her beside him. “Sir Angus, escort Lady Clarice to look nearer upon the sheep.”
The knight dismounted and passed the reins to his lord.
Lothaire swung into the saddle. “See to the fence’s repair,” he ordered the men-at-arms long accustomed to doing the work of commoners. They had not liked it in the beginning and some had left his service, but the Lord of Lexeter made it worth the sacrifice of dignity. Their reward meant the barony was slower to recover from the abuse of its finances and lack of leadership prior to Ricard Soames’s son taking control of it, but more often they vied for the opportunity to engage in the labor.
“Come, Lady Laura,” he urged his mount ahead of hers.
They rode to the crest of a gently sloping hill and he turned his horse to observe the shepherd moving amongst the sheep, Sir Angus standing alongside Clarice with a wide enough berth to cause the ewes little discomfort, and the men-at-arms wielding blunt weapons against wood as opposed to keen weapons against flesh.
“You have my attention,” he said as Laura drew alongside.
She inclined her head. “You were mending the fence.”
That was not the matter of import which caused her to ride out to meet him. “I was,” he said with defensiveness he regretted almost as much as providing proof of exactly how much he needed to wed her.
“And now your men-at-arms shall do so.”
He considered her, thought how becoming her hair looked with its loose braid curtaining one side of her face. “They are well compensated,” he begrudged, then inwardly sighed. Best she learn the true state of his demesne now rather than later. “I pay them coin when I am able. When I scrape the bottom of my coffers, they are mostly content with an extra day of rest.”
Her lips parted, teeth picked at her lower lip. “I did not realize your circumstances were so dire—your need to wed so great. I hope what I bring to the marriage is enough to set Lexeter aright.”
“Certes, ’twill be of benefit. Now I do not mean to be curt, but if I am to join you at table this eve, I must resume my work.”
“The work of wool.”
“What do you wish to discuss, my lady?”
“As I am sure the queen is eager to learn all progresses as it should, I intend to write her this day. I would have her know the announcement of our marriage has been arranged—”
“It has,” he interrupted. “Upon our arrival, I instructed the reading of the banns commence immediately. So it shall this Sunday. If none oppose our marriage, we shall wed in three weeks.”
She nodded, causing the shadow of hair draping her face to shift—or some of it. That upon her cheek remained dark.
“Anything else?” he prompted.
“As discussed on the day past, I wish to assure Eleanor your mother will soon be situated on her dower property.”
“As told, I will see it done when she is well enough.”
“I…” The tip of her tongue touched her lips. “I do not think that will satisfy my cousin.”
He frowned. “Nor you, hmm?”
She hesitated as if considering denial, but said, “Nor me.”
He shifted in the saddle to look closer upon her. “Lady Laura, I know my mother can be unpleasant…”