“And you think Aubrey will keep her in check?” Anne snorted, very unladylike. “You’re mad. More than likely, she’ll dominate him within an inch of his life. The man will be lucky if he survives this marriage into old age.”
“Aubrey will hold his own with her,” Richard didn’t look at his wife as he spoke. “But if he cannot handle a strong wife, then that is his misfortune. What I am more concerned with is the fact that Avalyn will marry into the massive fortress of Guerdley Cross and a husband who controls the water rights for all of Merseyside. This is where we need her to be. We need this alliance.”
Anne sighed, having second thoughts about the entire thing. “We really should have asked her if this was acceptable. We should not have treated it as a punishment.”
“I cannot afford a rebel so close to me, not even my own niece. If she disobeyed me once with something as insignificant as d’Aurilliac, who is to say that she will not do it again with something of more significance. And I need Avalyn; I need her wisdom and obedience. She must understand that.”
Anne didn’t say anymore. But she wasn’t so sure betrothal to Aubrey was the right answer any longer.
Nor was Avalyn. The more she walked beside Charles out into the chill night, the more nauseous she became. The man reeked of foul odor, she was sure, as a result of his profuse sweating. He hadn’t said a word to her yet, but he kept her hand tucked against his meaty elbow. She could feel his sweat soaking through his tunic.
“You… you’re uncle says that you enjoy horses,” he finally broke the ice. “I have several fine warmbloods in my stable. Ido not ride them too often, however; I leave that to my grooms. They are much more agile than I am.”
“Do you breed the horses for sale or for your own pleasure?” Avalyn forced herself to continue the conversation.
“For sale,” he seemed thrilled that she had responded. “They bring about a tidy sum. And I have three stallions that command a high price for breeding.”
Avalyn nodded, not sure what else to say. He seemed so genuinely nervous around her that it was almost touching. “It sounds as if you have good business sense, my lord,” she finally offered.
Aubrey nodded humbly; by his expression, it was apparent that he was wracking his mind for more things to say. “Do you hunt, my lady?” Even as the question left his mouth, he quickly corrected himself. “I am sorry; that was a silly question. Ladies do not hunt.”
“On the contrary,” she replied. “I have and I do. I like it.”
“You do?” his fat face lit up. “’Tis my favorite past time. What is your beast of choice?”
Fat, foolish barons who talk too much.“Wild boar, I think, for the simple fact that they tend to be cunning. It is almost as if they can reason.”
“Oh, I agree,” he said enthusiastically. “Last year, we hunted a boar for three days before finally killing it. It was an amazing creature. I was almost sorry I had to destroy it.”
Avalyn didn’t have anything to say to that. Somehow, they had wandered over near the White Tower and Avalyn instinctively looked around, wondering if Brogan was still lingering nearby. Charles studied her face in the moonlight, thinking her to be the most heavenly creature he had ever seen. He had never hoped to achieve such loveliness or prestige in a marriage, but here it was, in front of him. It was too much forhim to believe. Yet he wasn’t so overcome that he could not see that she didn’t feel the same way.
“My lady,” he brought them to a stop, facing her. “If I may speak plainly?”
“Of course.”
He smiled feebly, summoning the threads of courage. “I realize that you were surprised by this betrothal and I further realize that I am probably not the kind of man you would see yourself marrying. But I assure you that you will never want for respect or affection. I will be your most devoted servant, always, and any wish you have, no matter how small, shall be unquestionably fulfilled.”
It was a heart-felt statement. Avalyn felt her irritation wane as she looked into small brown eyes, knowing that it was hard for a man to admit that he probably wasn’t up to her standard. In a way, it was very sad. She tried to muster the will to be kind to him in reply. She couldn’t tell him how much she was coming to hate her uncle and the politics that had forced her into this unwanted betrothal.
“You are most considerate, my lord,” she said. “I have no doubt that you will be everything you say you will. But in truth, this betrothal is still something of a shock. I fear I shall need time to become accustomed to it.”
“I understand. I should like to help if I can.”
“How, my lord?”
He shrugged uncomfortably. “Perhaps… perhaps you will allow more time such as this, where we can talk and become better acquainted.”
It was not an unreasonable request. But her heart was screaming with reluctance; the only man she wanted to spend time with was Brogan, not this sweaty-faced stranger. His mere presence sickened her. Still, until she could figure out a better solution, she had little choice.
“Of course, my lord,” she sounded resigned. “Whatever you wish.”
His fat face lit up with a bright smile. Taking her hand again, he turned them around and led them back in the direction of the bright, stuffy hall.
*
It was anhour before midnight by the time everyone left the feast and retired to sleep. The events of the evening had sparked enough excitement so that Isobel could barely sleep at all, but eventually she faded off into a fitful doze. When Avalyn felt her go limp and her breathing grew strong and steady, she knew her cousin would not awaken again until morning. Isobel tended to sleep soundly that way.
Anne snored softly in the other bed. Avalyn sat up in the darkness, only a hint of silver moonlight streaming in through the window to illuminate the black room. Her gaze moved to the massive wardrobe against the wall, the one that held all of her garments and valuables. She’d had to dress for bed, pretending to lay down for sleep just as the rest of the house was.
