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It certainly was pretty, and I’d had a good look at it.
“It’s what you’ve seen, what you’ve heard, how your brain is sifting through it,” Ian stated firmly. “It’s nothing else. Enough is happening, don’t frighten your own self.”
“Yes,” I agreed. Then I queried, “What’s their story?”
He gave a slight shrug, but said, “Apparently, she hated him on sight. He thought her a shrew. But they married anyway and had five children, only three of whom survived. Though, this was in the twelfth century, so there isn’t much left of them now to know what their lives together were like. But back then, it wasn’t unusual in arranged marriages for the spouses to live relatively separate of each other, but still find the means to procreate.”
I thought of the picture in Wine.
Admittedly, I also thought of my dream and how the woman seemed so happy he was home.
So I asked, “They didn’t get along?”
“Again. I don’t know. In what I’ve read, it’s more about Wolf’s talents on the battlefield, his single-minded brutality there, the fear he engendered because of it, his unwavering loyalty to the king and the rewards he collected from that, than about his marriage. He also had a reputation for being a brute off the battlefield. His courtly manners were famously seriously lacking, but Stephen didn’t mind, as long as he kept winning conflicts.”
And again, I remembered the picture in the Wine Room.
“If they didn’t like each other, then why were they painted like they were great loves?”
“Because people romanticize the past,” he explained. “That painting was commissioned hundreds of years after they were gone. It wouldn’t do for the two people who essentially started our legacy to be portrayed as shouting at each other.”
True.
“I can’t see many medieval maidens waiting breathlessly for their brutish husbands to come home, and she was no shrew in my dream,” I muttered.
“Daphne, it’s all manifestations of what you’ve seen and heard in this house. They’re simply dreams, nothing more,” he chided. “There’s enough to be worked up about. You don’t need to create things.”
“You’re right,” I allowed. “I’m just on edge.”
“We all are. But Stevenson has made a large dent in his inventory. He’s noted nothing else has been moved and nothing is missing. The storage rooms aren’t locked. If someone was paying attention, it’d be easy to watch when someone else entered the code. The safe in this room is a concern. It isn’t often accessed, and it’d be hard to see which numbers were selected on the dial unless you were very close and watching closer. But everything will be explained. And soon. My investigators don’t fuck around.”
“Okay, baby,” I whispered.
But I’d noticed he’d been getting pissed as he talked, and he stayed that way.
Therefore, I asked, “Have I made you angry?”
He shook his head. “This situation makes me angry. Mum’s good at keeping her emotions hidden, but she’s failing. She’s distressed. And she’s a mum. That’s worse because she’s distressed we’re all distressed. Dad is taking it like a declaration of war. His personal property has been violated. He’s furious. Danny is not thrilled with keeping Portia here if there might be danger. I’m the same with you. And we don’t like what it’s doing to Mum and Dad. I truly hope it’s sorted and soon. I want to know who’s done it, but more, I want to know why. You called it fiendish. It’s that and morbid and cruel. Dad can be an ass, but outside this house, he’s the courteous, if haughty, country gentleman. Mum’s never harmed a soul in her life. Brittany notwithstanding, Danny’s the kind of guy who’s everyone’s best friend. It doesn’t make sense.”
“When people do things like this, it never does,” I reminded him. “If you don’t have it in you to harm someone, you can never understand why someone could do it.”
“Mm,” he agreed.
“Is dinner in the Turquoise Room tonight?”
“Yes. Dad wants everything to go back to normal, and Danny and I agreed. It also makes sense. If we suddenly start huddling together in the Viognier Room or elsewhere, it’ll give it away.”
“So, do we have time to fuck before dinner? Or do you have to work?”
That alleviated his mood.
“We absolutely have time to fuck before dinner.”
“I bought three boxes of condoms.”
Surprising me, he frowned.
“I made sure they were your size,” I teased.
