Chapter Eight

A virtuous woman is a crown to her husband: but she that maketh ashamed is as rottenness in his bones.

Proverbs 12:4

There was no denying it, she was being followed. Faith stepped back up the tower stairs and hid in the shadows when she saw Sir Theodore sitting by one of the trestle tables with a mug of mead in hand. Here he sat, instead of being out on the practice fields with the other knights. At first she thought mayhap he was ill, but quickly negated the idea when he seemed to always be in her view. He followed her to the kitchen, to the brew house, to the livestock pens, to the village and even stood on the edges of her small flower garden. Everywhere she turned, Sir Theodore stood a few steps behind her. It did not take the mind of a scholar to figure out why he was watching her.

With a heavy sigh, she squared her shoulders and stepped out of the shadows. Instantly, Sir Theodore straightened in his seat, his gaze attentively on her. She could ignore him and break her fast as she had done the last couple of days or she could take care of the situation at hand. She chose the latter.

Marching up to where he sat, Faith settled down on the bench across from him. “Tell Sir Darrin that I do not need one of his knights to watch over me.”

He put down his mug without taking a drink. “My lady, I am not here for your protection. However, I am sorry for what happened in the bailey. I did not mean to hit you.”

Of course. How foolish of her to think otherwise. The man’s presence had nothing to do with her safety and everything to do with his guilt. “Please, Sir Theodore. What happened was my fault. I should have let you and Master Gouch pummel one another. Though I will never understand the joy men find in fighting. Your apology is accepted. Now do go about your regular duties.”

Sir Theodore fidgeted in his seat as a look of pure dread crossed his face. “That is not why I am…here.”

Ah, of course he was not here by his own accord. He did his lord’s bidding. “So I must surmise that if I try to contact Sir Adrien de Gascon, you will immediately report the folly to Sir Darrin.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but he did not confirm or deny her words.

“Well, then, you can report to Sir Darrin that a wife owes her faithfulness to her husband.”

Sir Theodore picked up his mug and took a long pull of the liquid. A heavy, satisfying sigh left his lips afterward. “Now that is some fine mead. I would thank the brewer, but methinks it is your hand that makes this draught so good.”

“Ah, if you believe so, then you must admit to following me?”

“Aye, lady. And in that short time, I have learned much.” He smiled and took another healthy swig of his drink.

She stilled. What could he have learned that would be of such great value to Sir Darrin?

As if reading her mind, he continued, “It is you who oversees the making of meals each day. It is you who examines the crops that the peasants have planted. It is you who tells the mead maker how much honey and yeast to add to the drink. This château runs smoothly because of you.”

“And you are surprised by this?” She waved a hand. “Who else would?”

“A steward who would take orders from the lord of this keep. In the past, that would have been Sir Adrien.”

She wanted to laugh, but Sir Theodore’s face remained void of any mirth. “Sir Adrien spent his days like most men, honing the art of war and hatching who-knows-what in his mind.”

Sir Theodore looked at the empty mug and frowned. “Sir Darrin would be happy to learn so. For he has fretted much over this matter.”

“What? That Sir Adrien did not care about the workings of the keep? How would this ease my husband’s mind?”

He tore his gaze from his mug to look directly at her. “He worried that he could not be as capable a lord as Sir Adrien. Now I can tell him not to agonize over this anymore. ’Tis his wife who the people respect and work for, not Lord de Gascon. Though that may be a bigger problem.”

The man talked in riddles. “I do not understand. Why can you not speak plainly?”

He leaned over the table and peered deep into her eyes. “Lady, Sir Darrin does not know for sure if your actions will match your words. And if they do not, then he has a problem indeed.”

The statement Sir Theodore referred to bounced around in her mind—a wife owes her faithfulness to her husband. “I will not undermine Sir Darrin’s authority.” The moment the words left her lips, Faith remembered her wedding night when she refused Darrin’s affections. A blush quickly heated her skin and was just as quickly misinterpreted.

“If you lie to me, lady…”

She shook her head. “I do not lie. I am glad Sir Adrien is gone.”

Sir Theodore’s gaze did not waver from hers, as if he were weighing and measuring each of her words. “I believe you,” he finally said. “But I am not the one who needs to be convinced, and until you change your husband’s mind, I will be your companion. And just between you and me, I hope you can convince Sir Darrin quickly. For I do not care for being a lady’s maid.”

A servant brought Faith a bowl of pottage with hard crust bread on the side. The steamy, thick soup full of vegetables made Faith’s mouth water. She picked up a piece of bread and dunked an edge into the soup. “I think I have an idea that may rest Sir Darrin’s mind as to my loyalties.” Faith popped the bread in her mouth and began to chew.

“Speak, lady, for I am all ears.” Sir Theodore’s disposition brightened substantially.

She swallowed and looked to repeat the action, but then paused. “It is true I denounced Sir Darrin to the magistrate all those years ago, but Sir Adrien forced me to do so.”

“So then Darrin is right. Lord de Gascon did kill his father,” he said, taking another swallow of mead.

Faith put the bread down on the table next to her bowl. “I am not sure. I fear that Sir Jean was murdered by another’s hand.”

“Do you have a thought who that might be?”

“Nay. I cannot say, but I think Sir Jean suspected something was going to happen. The week before his death, he doubled the guard at the gate and had servants check every chamber of the keep before we retired. I cannot say what caused him to act so, but I do know where we may find some answers. Sir Jean was a learned man and scribbled daily on parchment, which he kept in a leather pouch. Every night he locked his writings in a wooden chest.”

Sir Theodore placed his mug on the table. The keenness in his hazel eyes became intense. “Where is this chest?”

“In the lower cells, underneath the keep.”

He picked up his mug and tapped it against her bowl of pottage. “Eat up, my lady. For we have some hard work ahead of us.” He winked.

Her appetite rapidly returning, Faith picked up the hard bread and dipped it in the heavy soup once again. Mayhap, finally, after all these years, the truth would be exposed. A slight chill skidded down her spine. She prayed the answers would exonerate Sir Darrin. For if they did not, then she was yoked to a murderer who could strike again at any time.

* * *

On the same morn, Sir Rollin finally returned to the château. Though he and his men were dusty and tired, Darrin held no pity. He expected the knight back days ago and feared Sir Rollin had returned to King John to pledge his allegiance and denounce Darrin’s right to Château du Vent Doux.

With crossed arms, Darrin greeted Sir Rollin in the bailey. “Where have you been? I told you to escort Sir Adrien to the river, not to the French court.”

Slowly, Sir Rollin dismounted and casually brushed back his chain mail hood. He then turned a sharp eye on Darrin, letting him know even though he might be lord of the château, he was not lord over Sir Rollin de Tosny. “We did. But then I thought it would be prudent to secretly follow to find out in which direction Sir Adrien would go—to King John or King Phillip.”

No fault could found for the knight’s decision. No wonder King Richard had taken Sir Rollin into his inner circles. The man was quick in the mind as well as quick with the sword. “So what did you discover?” Darrin asked.

“He went toward the French. King Richard was right, Sir Adrien is no friend of England’s.”

Darrin nodded but still was not satisfied. He followed Sir Rollin and his men to the stables. “Such a discovery should have taken two days at the most. Where have you been the other three?”

A tight grip seemed to take hold of Sir Rollin’s mouth. “On our return, we were greeted by a messenger of King John’s.”

With great control, Darrin resisted the urge to swipe a hand across the back of his neck. He had feared the new king would not let matters rest at Château du Vent Doux. Though he was now the King of England, John had once been an ally of France. Mayhap he wished to seek peace with them now. To show good faith, he might return the château to Sir Adrien. If this was true, then Darrin planned to fight King John to the death instead of becoming an outlaw again.

“And where is this messenger now?” Darrin snapped.

Sir Rollin raised a brow before passing his mount off to a stable boy. Nonchalantly, he pulled a missive out of his tunic, stamped with King John’s seal. “His messenger gave me this and returned to King John.”

A little too eagerly, Darrin snatched the parchment out of Sir Rollin’s hand. “The messenger was willing to give you this missive? Most unusual.”

Sir Rollin adjusted his tunic over his mail. “I thought you would be pleased. Better that he give the message to me than for him to see the inside of the château. The last thing we need would be for King John to know our weaknesses.”

“We have no weaknesses,” Darrin growled as he broke the seal and unrolled the parchment. With swift eyes, he read its contents. It seemed King John was willing to allow Darrin to keep Château du Vent Doux for the time being. A great relief flooded him, but he tried to hold it in check because Sir Rollin watched him intently. Though the knight always acted honorable, the man believed himself superior to most, and any sign of weakness on Darrin’s part might cause Sir Rollin to leave. Right now, Darrin needed every knight by his side in case King John changed his mind or Sir Adrien returned with the French.

Darrin rolled up the missive. “King John has honored Richard’s request. I can keep the château.”

Sir Rollin tucked one stray lock of his dark hair behind his ear. “Marvelous. I’m famished. I do hope the cook has something prepared other than pottage. I am tired of eating that slop.” His easy gaze swept the bailey and the livestock pens. “I would so enjoy a nice mutton shank.”

It was Darrin’s turn to lift a brow. “This is a modest keep. But I am sure something can be found to tempt your appetite.”

At that precise moment, Lady Faith descended the great hall steps, she and Theo in lively conversation.

“I am sure you are right,” Sir Rollin said, his eyes fixed on Faith.

It did not take a scholar to realize where Rollin’s thoughts had gone. When Faith spotted them, she froze and a lovely blush filled her cheeks. Before Darrin could react, Sir Rollin rushed over to her and dropped into a deep bow. Faith’s cheeks took on a deeper hue.

“How fairs my lady?” His eyes narrowed as he spotted her black and blue jawline. “Tell me, this was not done by some brut?” Sir Rollin turned a cold gaze on Darrin.

She laughed. “Nay, it was caused by my own folly. It is quite an amusing story. Come inside and I will tell it to you.”

“My lady, I would care for nothing more than to sit by your lovely side and listen to your beautiful voice,” Sir Rollin said, oozing with charm.

Such horse apples. Darrin wanted to roll his eyes to the heavens, but chose to hold his eyeballs in check. He planned to feign indifference and hoped such an action would spur her to come to him. Yesterday, she had sought him out with a question; still he did not know what she wished to discuss. Mayhap she had thought to correct the error she made on their wedding night and was ready to consummate their marriage. But Gouch and his love-sick heart had turned her thoughts away from her wifely duty.

She did not give Darrin a second glance, but smiled when Sir Rollin placed a small kiss on her hand. Even Theo frowned at that one.

Lady Faith clutched Sir Rollin’s hands in hers. “I am so happy you have returned and wondered where you had gone. I meant to ask Sir Darrin about you yesterday but was interrupted by another affair.”

What? She wished to speak of Sir Rollin? What tactic was this? She barely spoke a word to him or gazed his way upon his first arrival. Now she acted like they were good friends. Darrin’s jaw grew tight. Did she think to bend him to her way of thinking through jealousy? Little did she know that he would gladly hand her over to Sir Rollin if circumstances were different.

Nonetheless, Darrin marched to her side.

Dropping her hands to her sides, she looked up at him. “Husband, are you all right? You look a mite strained.”

Strained. A new tactic—to treat him as some weakling in front of fellow knights? Was that her plan, to sway Sir Rollin and Theo to join forces against him? If so, she would be disappointed, for Theo would never turn on him and Rollin…who knew what was in the man’s heart? But King Richard had trusted him. The king had usually been a good judge of character. Darrin looked into Faith’s crystal grey eyes…a good judge of character most of the time.

“I am fine. Sir Rollin just informed me that my uncle has gone toward the French lines instead of going to honor our new King John.” Darrin watched her intently, yet she hid her thoughts well. Her features and her stance gave nothing away, nor did she fist her hand. Oh, she was a shrewd one. A worthy adversary, indeed.

“I am sure Sir Rollin is tired and hungry from his long journey. Let me get you some decent food,” she said, ignoring Darrin’s words.

An exuberant smile split across Sir Rollin’s lips. “Aye, I am famished. You don’t suppose there is any mutton? I have such a strong need for a nice hunk of meat.”

Lady Faith laughed and weaved her arm through Rollin’s. “I do believe we could find some. Come, rest. Then we can talk about old times when you used to visit Sir Adrien with your father.”

What? Sir Rollin had once said he knew of Château du Vent Doux but he never disclosed that he had visited the keep as a guest. Darrin wanted to grab Rollin by the back of the neck and demand some answers, but now was not the time. Not in front of Faith.

Instead he bowed to Faith and feigned indifference. “Aye, Sir Rollin, enjoy a hearty meal and my wife’s company. We will speak later.” He then turned his gaze to Theo. “Let us take a walk.” With that, he turned and left his wife and Sir Rollin staring after them.

“Well, you handled that poorly,” Theo said, coming up from behind.

Darrin strode to the livestock area without glancing at his friend. “I know not what you mean.”

“Don’t you now? You looked like a mulish mule in front of your lady. If I did not know better, I would say you are jealous of Blossom.”

Theo’s snide remark splashed over Darrin like boiling water. “You misunderstood my mood. Sir Rollin knows her, and he never divulged this knowledge to me.” Darrin slammed his fist on a fence post and gazed out at the multitude of sheep in the pen.

“Which means he can’t be trusted.” Theo spit on the dry ground at his feet.

“Mayhap you are right or you could be wrong. However, it does raise many questions for which we have no answers.”

“Aye. He’s a shifty one. There’s something about him…yet I can’t figure out what it is.”

“Mayhap you met him before he joined King Richard’s army.”

“Not likely. I came to this country with you. Still, he seems familiar. I have always thought such from the moment I looked into his blossom blue eyes.”

“So you have said before. Whatever the case, you are going to find out as much as you can about him from Lady Faith.”

Theo’s eyes widened. “Me? You’re her husband. Why don’t you ask her?”

The sheep bleated loudly in the pen as Darrin pondered how to answer. What could he say? His wife had rejected him physically and he refused to go to her until she acquiesced. Theo would howl with laughter.

Darrin looked down and examined the lock on the sheep pen. “If she were close…intimate with Rollin, she would confide in you before me.”

“By all that is holy, you truly believe she will discuss such matters with me?” Theo shook his head. “You are her husband. You ask her. Methinks you are afraid of her. She is not the only one I have been watching lately.”

“Watch your words,” Darrin spat. “It is not my actions you are to judge.”

Theo raised his palms. “Calm down. I am still your man and will do what you ask. But as your friend, I think you should spend some time with her. I believe she wants to be a good and dutiful wife.”

Darrin leaned over the pen and briefly wondered why all the sheep were still there when they should have been out in the fields. However, the minor distraction could not turn his thoughts away from Theo’s words. “She wants naught from me,” he muttered.

“Nay, that is not true. Earlier she told me, ‘A wife owes her faithfulness to her husband.’ She is glad Sir Adrien is gone. She is the one who makes this keep run smoothly. Not Sir Adrien, who went to the practice fields each morn. One thing she did confide, she does not believe he killed your father.” Theo looked as if he wished to say more but then thought better of it.

Darrin snorted. “I am not sure I am glad to hear it is a woman’s shoes I must fill and not a beloved lord. Still I must be grateful, for the keep is in excellent condition. As far as my uncle, she knows full well Sir Adrien killed my father. Be careful that she does not lead you on a merry chase.”

A puzzled look settled over Theo’s face as he leaned his back into the fence. “Mayhap you are right or you are just letting her get under your skin.”

Under his skin? Aye. Faith had always been able to worm her way through his flesh and bones. As a child, she would tease him until he climbed the highest tree or jumped from the battlements into a cart laden with hay. Luckily, he had only broken an arm with that fall and Nun knew how to bind the injury.

Darrin rubbed his elbow. “She is not under my skin.”

Theo grunted. “As you say.”

Another flash from the past entered Darrin’s mind—of Faith, fourteen summers old. Oh, she had gotten under his skin then, like a hot fire setting him aflame. ’Twas one of the things his father and he had argued about. He wanted to be betrothed to her and his father had vehemently opposed the idea. Now Darrin knew why—she was King Richard’s daughter and his father hid the secret.

Darrin straightened and slammed his fists on the fence. “Aye. As I say.”

Just then the shepherd came scurrying to the pen. He took off his brown cap and bowed. “My lord, I-I am honored with your presence.”

Darrin turned to face the man and folded his arms across his chest. “I am wondering why these sheep are still penned when they should be out in yonder fields, Master…”

“Oddo,” Theo supplied.

Darrin nodded his thanks.

Oddo began to twist his cap between his fingers as Darrin noticed a large sheep waddling close behind him. When Oddo realized the sheep had been spotted, he laughed. “My lord, good news. I have found another lost sheep. All have been found.”

Quickly Oddo took the key from around his neck, opened the gate and pushed the stray sheep inside with the others. The sheep bleated all the more at another joining their already crowded ranks.

“Ahem,” Darrin said. “Should you not be taking the sheep out?”

Oddo chortled nervously. “Oh, aye, my lord.” With haste, the shepherd opened the gate and rapidly ushered the sheep toward the château entry, leaving a puff of dirt in their wake.

“There is your sheep thief,” Theo confirmed.

“Aye. But as you see, giving him the key has made him an honest man. He returned that which he had taken. I am sure every sheep will be accounted for from this day forth.”

Theo slapped Darrin on the back and laughed. “You are a master when it comes to understanding shepherds.”

Perhaps. But Darrin wished he were a master at understanding women.