“Well, all the same, I made sure you will have a new roof over our bedchamber, and a new bed.” He leaned over to kiss her. “It’s been here for a fortnight, but I refused to sleep in it ’til you could sleep with me.”
Angelet bit her lip, looking down. “Rafe!”
“Still a rogue,” he confided. “Some things will never change.”
She looked up then, with a conspiratorial look in her eye. “You must show me to our chamber, husband. And I warn you, travel was so fatiguing, I’ll doubtless need to retire quite soon.” She looked anything but sleepy.
“This way…wife.” He liked saying that word, too.
* * * *
Angelet took a deep breath, drawing in the warm, sweetly-scented summer air with pleasure. Was this what true happiness felt like? She looked over the green treetops visible past the mown fields and smiled. She never thought she’d find a place like this, with a partner such as Rafe. She would work hard as chatelaine, and make life here comfortable and safe for all the inhabitants, whether they would be here for life or only a little while, such as the young men come for training as soldiers and knights.
It was almost like having a family, she thought. These young men were really not much more than boys. She could be a mother to them while they were here, and offer a more gentle influence to complement the harsher treatment they would endure from Rafe and the other men who would act as instructors.
Rafe had initially agreed to train four boys, and three were already here. They all seemed bright and eager to learn. There was Torin, a friendly and brash boy whose body had started to outpace his mind, leading to a certain clumsiness, since he was often in motion before he quite knew what he was actually intending to do. His big blue eyes always seemed startled, and nearly every time he spoke, out came an apology for bumping into someone or knocking over a tower of baskets or for simply standing in the wrong place—he had a knack for forgetting how to walk when any of the maids crossed his path.
“If he ever learns to control those limbs,” Rafe had said, “he’ll be a terror on the battlefield, especially if he keeps growing taller.” Angelet had agreed, but privately she thought he’d be more dangerous among ladies. His hapless innocence, combined with his appearance, was already drawing glances from the girls his age.
Then there was Guy, who was dark-haired with an olive complexion, as slight and short as Torin was brawny. He was the son of a very wealthy baron, and he was conscious of his station and eager to excel, but he was a tentative fighter, overly cautious and afraid to fail. Angelet suspected that his interests lay elsewhere, and he’d prefer a career in the church. She felt that he’d need the most mothering of the boys she’d met so far, lest his lack of confidence turn to sullenness.
The third boy was from the north, the nephew of one of the rebel barons, and thus something of a puzzle. He was too young to have any knowledge of or participation in the rebellion, but the king was now determined to make sure this new generation belonged to him. Thus all the children and younger relatives of the rebels had been taken for fostering with trusted vassals of Stephen. The boy, Peregrine, had a quick smile and polite manners, but a very changeable nature. He could be sunny one moment and stormy the next. Doubtless he felt insecure at Martenkeep, not quite prisoner and not quite guest. Angelet would have to make him feel welcome and safe.
A faint clatter in the distance made her look to the road. Yes, there it was. A small riding party was approaching, very likely the final trainee. She went down to greet the newcomer.
But when the visitor climbed out of the carriage, Angelet gasped in astonishment. “Henry?”
“Mother!”
“Sweet Mary, it’s you,” she whispered.
Henry ran to her and she sank to her knees and wrapped her arms around him, embracing him fiercely. She thought her heart might burst. It had been so long since she’d seen him. The last short visit had been over a year ago. It seemed like a lifetime.
“Oh, my boy.” Angelet clung to him, patting his hair, then hugging him again, then wiping her eyes, then starting all over. She was crying freely, and she didn’t care at all who saw it or what they thought. “Oh, you’re back with me. My prayers were heard. You’re going to stay. I’ll never let you go again.” She could barely think clearly now. She felt him shake a little as he threw himself at her.
Henry’s arms circled her neck, still thin, but with a strength she didn’t remember from their last time together. Her boy was growing up.
“I missed you, Mother,” he said over and over.
“We’re together again,” she said. “That’s all that matters.”
Finally, he pulled away a little, beaming at her. “I’m here! When they said I’d get to live with you again I didn’t believe them at first. But they said I wasn’t going back to Dryton because you married again. Is that true? They won’t tell me anything.”
“It’s true. I’ve married Sir Raphael Corviser. A knight whose father served the old king, just as Sir Rafe serves our king now.”
“Is he a good man?”
“Very good. I’m so happy with him.”
Henry pulled out from her embrace and studied her with his solemn eyes, so like his late father’s. Then he said, “Very well. If he’s ever not good to you, Mother, you’ll have to tell me so I can fight him.”
Angelet let out an astonished laugh and reached out to tuck a loose lock of hair behind his ear. “Oh, my darling. It will never come to that. But I do want you to listen to everything Rafe teaches you, understand? He’s one of the finest fighters the king has, and you’ll be a knight like no other if you learn from him.”
“Am I to call him father?”
“If and when you’re ready to, my love. But first I think you ought to meet him.”
She pointed to the approaching figure of Rafe, who was trailed by the three boys. Henry took a deep breath and squared his narrow shoulders, preparing to meet these new faces.
