“However you wish to consider it, my lord, you must know that I’m right. Your brother the king has already angered many of his nobles by trying to ignore the provisions of Magna Carta. Would it be wise to raise more suspicions in their minds by attempting to deny my husband his rightful inheritance?”
The earl looked at Merrick. “Your wife is a shrewd and very well-informed woman.”
Merrick smiled. “She’s also very stubborn and can be most determined.”
“I can believe it,” the earl muttered. He thought a moment, then said, “Fortunately, I happen to agree with her. There’s no need to change the lordship of Tregellas—provided those are the terms of the late Lord William’s will. Therefore, I will go with you to Tregellas and see this unusual document for myself. If it is as you say, then I see no reason to disinherit you, or for the truth to remain hidden. But if it is not…” He pinned his gaze on Merrick. “You alone shall suffer for your lie.”
Constance stepped forward. “My lord, I—”
The earl swept past them. “I will hear no more about this until we reach Tregellas.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THE NEXT DAY, EARL RICHARD rode at the front of the group traveling to Tregellas, with Merrick and Constance on either side of him. Henry and Ranulf were behind them, and then the other nobles, including Sir Jowan and his son. Lord Osgoode had elected to remain in Tintagel, cosseted by his mistress who’d been waiting there for him.
Brother Paul had thrown up his hands when Henry insisted upon leaving and claimed he didn’t understand young people anymore. They all seemed anxious to disobey his sage advice.
However, no priestly admonition was going to convince Henry to stay in Tintagel. He wanted to get away from that castle as soon as possible.
“I tell you, nothing will surprise me after this. Nothing,” Henry said to Ranulf. “Next thing you know, the king will abdicate and join the church.”
“If that happens, heaven help the church,” Ranulf replied with a wry grin.
“I suppose it does explain a few things about Merrick, though,” Henry mused a moment later.
“Yes, it does,” Ranulf agreed. “His confounded silence, for one thing. It also makes his refusal to even discuss rebellion against the king more understandable.”
Henry grimaced with pain as he shifted in his saddle. “How’s that?”
“Feeling guilty because he believed he’d already stolen one man’s birthright, he had no desire to help steal another’s.”
Henry let out a low whistle, then winced, his lips not yet healed. “God’s wounds, you’re right.” He nodded at Constance. “At least whatever difficulties he was having with his wife seem to have abated. Do you suppose he apologized?”
“I don’t know,” Ranulf replied. “But they’re certainly happy.”
“Indeed they are. He’s as blissfully besotted as my brother, and that’s saying something.”
Ranulf thought they had talked about love long enough. “So, are you still determined to leave us at the next crossroads?”
“I’ve put off a visit to my brother long enough.”
“Merrick’s truly sorry he accused you of betraying him.”
“So he’s said.”
“Do you forgive him?”
“I’m here with him now, aren’t I?”
Ranulf raised a skeptical brow.
Henry frowned. “He’s no very gentle interrogator.”
“He was upset about his wife.”
“That I understand, but he was so quick to believe the worst of me.”
“Perhaps because you never seem to take anything seriously.”
