Ranulf hadn’t gone away, but he wasn’t coming any closer, either. He stood where she had left him, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
Well, why should he trot after her like a dog? Unless somebody decided to shove her into the water, she was perfectly safe. Still, it was disturbing having him standing there and watching her so grimly.
Perhaps the fish could wait until Friday.
Thinking that might be best, Beatrice made her way back to the castellan of Penterwell. “I think we’ll not have fish until Friday.”
“As you wish,” he answered, turning back to the castle.
“After all,” she said, and only a little pertly, “it’s difficult to make a choice when your escort is standing like a statue, staring at you as if the whole exercise is a waste of time. Honestly, one would think you were afraid of the fish, even though they’re all dead.”
“It’s not the fish,” he muttered.
She suddenly realized he’d led her back a different way to the castle, one that skirted the market and all the people there. They were in a back lane, and it was quite deserted.
Her heart started to beat rapidly, and not with dismay.
“It’s the water.”
“I—I beg your pardon?” she stammered, the warmth of her excitement doused by his grim statement.
“I don’t like to get too close to open water. I nearly drowned when I was a child.”
She was taken aback by his revelation, but also thrilled beyond measure that he would confide in her.
“When Merrick and Henry tipped the boat and you fell into the millpond?”
Henry had told her that Sir Leonard had insisted all his charges learn to swim. However, he’d said with a laugh, Ranulf seemed to spend most of his time in Sir Leonard’s boat, rowing. One day, he and Merrick had decided to have a little revenge and before Sir Leonard embarked, tipped Ranulf into the pond.
“No, not then. The water was shallow where they did that, although I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised if Henry exaggerated. I’m talking about something that happened long before that, before I was… Before I left my father’s castle. Only Sir Leonard knew about it, until now.”
“I’m shocked you’d tell me and not your closest friends,” she admitted.
He flushed and made a wry, self-deprecating smile. “Is it so surprising I’d keep such a fear to myself?” he asked.
No, she realised, when she thought of the pride he, like most men, possessed.
“But it would be worse to have you think I’m afraid of dead fish.”
She reached out to touch his arm, wanting, needing, to have some physical contact with him. “I shall guard your secret with my life.”
Suddenly even more ashamed of his fear than usual, cursing himself for a weak-willed fool overpowered by the need to have her sympathy, Ranulf forced himself to laugh. “My dear Bea, there’s no need for such dramatics. Indeed, I should probably just admit my fear to the garrison and be done instead of trying to think of excuses for why I won’t go closer to the shore than I absolutely have to.”
“If it wasn’t when you fell into the millpond,” she asked, ignoring his attempt to be flippant, “how did you nearly drown?”
That was something he definitely didn’t want to talk about.
Fortunately, the sight of a boy running toward them spared him.
“Come quick, my lady, please!” the lad called out breathlessly. “It’s Wenna! Her water’s broke!”
MUCH LATER, Ranulf rose after a fitful night’s sleep and climbed out of the clean, comfortable bed that was now made every day.
Bea must still be at Wenna’s cottage. He’d ordered his guards to inform him when she returned, and he had made it very clear there would be a severe penalty if they didn’t.
There was nothing to be worried about if she hadn’t yet come back, he told himself as he went to the window. This was Wenna’s first child and he remembered well what he’d told Merrick as they waited for his son to be born: first births could take a long time.
He threw open the shutter to see that a heavy fog had rolled in during the night. It was so thick, he couldn’t even see the wall of the castle.
