Bliss(11)
Author: Lynsay Sands

Hethe supposed it had been too much to hope the man would let that pass. Shrugging with feigned nonchalance, he took another swallow before saying, "She appears to have reacted badly to the spot I chose for our picnic."

Templetun was silent for a moment, pondering that; then his eyes suddenly widened. "You did not picnic by posies, did you?"

"Nay," Hethe answered and watched the older man relax before admitting, "But I set the blanket out on top of some."

"On top of some? Out on – You set the blanket out on – But, Lady Helen is allergic to posies! Her aunt was fretting about it this morning. Oh dear, she – " He paused abruptly, his gaze moving past Hethe’s shoulder. "How is she?"

Hethe glanced around in surprise, then shrank back guiltily under Lady Shambleau’s hard-eyed glare as she paused behind him.

"She will recover, no thanks to you," the woman said coldly, and Hethe shifted again, feeling like a louse. Then irritation filled him. Reminding himself that Lady Tiernay would not be feeling guilty were he the one suffering right now, and that she, along with the woman standing scowling at him, had actually plotted that it should be so, he straightened and mildly shrugged.

"I did try to get her to come back sooner," he announced, adding when she looked doubtful, "When she first began to sneeze, in fact. I suggested it might be good if we returned to the keep. But she did so wish for me to enjoy the food she had had prepared…" He stared up at the woman with a meaningful look and was gratified to see her self-righteous attitude disappear, replaced by slight discomfort.

Turning away from him, Lady Shambleau glanced at Lord Templetun. "Shall we get back to the negotiations?"

"Yes, yes. Let us get back to them," the older man murmured, rising eagerly to his feet to lead the lady away. It seemed obvious to Hethe that the king’s man was unsure what the undercurrents to this conversation were, and was unwilling to explore them. Coward , he thought dryly as he watched the pair disappear from the great hall.

"Well, let us hope that they complete the negotiations this time," William said suddenly, drawing Hethe’s attention to his first. The man raised his ale to drink from it. He had been sitting silently since Hethe’s return, merely listening to the conversations around him.

"Eager to have it done, are you?" Hethe asked.

His friend smiled wryly. "Well, you must be ready for it to be over, too. It will surely not be a trial for you to bed the wench; then we can get out of here and head back to battle." He scowled into his mug briefly. "The men are growing restless."

"We have only been here a little more than a day," Hethe pointed out with exasperation.

"Aye, well. We rarely last a full day and night at Holden, either. Why should here be any different? The men are not used to sitting about for so long."

Hethe contemplated his first’s words unhappily but could not argue. This was the longest they had been away from the excitement and activity of battle for some time. Well, his men were away from it…

"No. No. You cannot come in. Goliath!"

Helen turned from peering out her window at those hissed words to see Ducky struggling to get into the room without the large wolfhound accompanying her. Her lips quirking with humor, she put an end to the quiet struggle. "Let him in, Ducky. He spent the night up here, but I let him out to do his business this morning."

"Oh! You’re awake," Ducky gave up struggling with the beast and straightened, a smile of relief on her face. "You’re looking much better today."

"Aye. I am fully recovered I think." She greeted Goliath with a pat on the head when he loped across the room to her, but her expression was grim. Helen had spent every waking moment since returning from yesterday’s picnic trying to come up with another strategy to convince Lord Holden to abandon the wedding. Nothing brilliant had come to mind. Not even during the bath she had ordered brought to her – and Helen always thought best in the bath.

"Lord Templetun sent me up to see how you were doing today. He and your aunt are finished with negotiations. Lord Holden and his man are looking them over right now. Templetun claims if both of you agree, then there is nothing else to hold up the wedding."

Helen grimaced at her maid’s words, though she had expected them. Her aunt had slipped in to see her late the night before, telling her apologetically that she had delayed things as long as she could, but the negotiations were done. Helen had known then that Templetun would not dally about finishing this business. The marriage would occur today unless she found some way to stop it. She had not found one.

There were so few acceptable reasons to refuse a marriage. Consanguinity was one of them – but Lord Holden was not even a cousin of a cousin. They were no relation at all, that she knew of, so she could not use that. Another reason was if one of the parties was a criminal, had committed rape or murder.

However, while she felt he raped his land and murdered his people through insensitivity, no one else would see it that way, so that option would not help. The final escape was if one of the parties had made a religious vow. Unfortunately, that was not the case, either, though she suddenly wished she had had the forethought to do so.

"My Billy was talking to Edwin last night," Ducky announced suddenly. Helen glanced at her blankly, confused by the change of topic. "My youngest son, Billy," Ducky explained. "He was talking with Lord Holden’s squire Edwin yestereve…"

"Oh?" Helen murmured, still unsure what that had to do with the matter at hand.

"Aye. Billy says that young Edwin mentioned as how Lord Holden don’t like water much."

"He doesn’t?" Helen’s interest was caught.

"Aye. He said as how His Lordship will ride hours longer than necessary just to avoid crossing a river or such. He said one of the other fellers told him that Lord Holden nearly drowned as a boy, hasn’t gone near water ever since."

Helen’s eyes sparkled briefly with devilment; then the glint died and her shoulders slumped. "Well, thank Billy for finding that out, Ducky. But I doubt it will be of much use to us now. The negotiations are over.

No doubt Templetun has already sent for Father Purcell." She made a face, then sighed and moved toward the door. "I suppose I may as well go below and see what is about. There is no sense trying to put off the unpleasantness any longer."

Chapter Seven

"This will not do."

Helen gave a start at the sharp announcement from Lord Holden as he led his first back to the trestle table where she was seated between Lord Templetun and her aunt, perusing the contracts they had spent so much time drawing up. The contracts looked depressingly fine to her. Aunt Nell had certainly not allowed everything to go Lord Holden’s way. Helen supposed it was the fact that she didn’t really want to marry him that had allowed her aunt to be so demanding. Now, at the man’s complaint, Helen felt a spark of hope that the wedding might at least be delayed a bit longer.

Hethe drew Lord Templetun aside, and Helen practically held her breath as she watched their discussion taking place. Lord Holden was grim and determined; Lord Templetun was waving his arms around and looking dismayed. Whatever Holden wanted was not impressing the man, she noted with interest and a touch of trepidation. At last, Templetun gave in and turned back to the table, his expression highly annoyed as he sought out her aunt.

"It would appear we have some more work to do," he announced.

Aunt Nell hesitated, her gaze veering to Helen; then she rose with a shrug. "Very well, my lord. Shall we?"

Helen was still watching the two walk away when Hethe dropped onto the trestle table bench beside her and said cheerfully, "Well, it would appear we have a little more time to get acquainted. What shall we do this morning? Another picnic?"

Helen turned slowly to glare at him, her eyes narrowing on his cheerful grin. "I think you should go to – "

Catching herself, she abruptly stood, her gaze going to the door to the kitchens. She considered making a quick detour there for garlic, but then she changed her mind. What was the use? Hethe had obviously already seen through that ploy. What she needed was time alone to figure out some new stratagem.

"Come, Goliath," she ordered, turning away from the table. She was halfway to the main doors before she realized that she was not alone. Lord Holden had stood and was now keeping pace with her.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"We are not going anywhere. I am going for a walk to get some fresh air," she said grimly.

"A walk sounds nice. It will give us the chance to become better acquainted."

Helen merely gritted her teeth and held her tongue. The last thing she wanted was to walk anywhere with him. But she suspected that telling Lord Holden that would only please him. Glancing down at the dog keeping pace on her left side, she reached down to pat his head affectionately. She had missed the beast during his defection, but could hardly blame him. She hadn’t been able to bear being around herself.

Doing her best to ignore the presence looming on her right, Helen stepped through the main doors, descended the stairs and started across the bailey at a quick clip, but Holden had no problem keeping up. They had left the bailey and started along a path through the trees surrounding the castle when an idea struck. They were not far from the river! She could hear its faint rush over the sounds of birds and other animals. She doubted Hethe knew what it was.

A smile suddenly bloomed on her face and she turned down a side path, chuckling softly when Goliath gave a bark of excitement and ran ahead before returning to her side, then doing it again. As the path broke through to the small clearing on the river’s edge, Helen’s smile widened, spilling across her face.

She was halfway across the small clearing, heading for the small dugout boat tied to a post driven into the shore, before she realized that she had lost one of her companions: the tall, almost human one. Pausing, she turned to find him standing at the edge of the clearing, his narrow-eyed gaze surveying the boat and the water.

"Something wrong, my lord?" she asked sweetly.

His eyes fell upon her, full of suspicion. "What are we doing here?"

"I thought a nice little boat ride on the river would be pleasant. Would it not?" she challenged.

Hethe’s mouth tightened. "I do not think – "

"Or, are you afraid?" she taunted. He straightened, growing at least an inch in height, and his expression darkened, but he didn’t say anything. He just moved grimly forward, leading the way to the small vessel at the river’s edge. Once there, he paused, looking uncertain.

Enjoying his discomfort, Helen joined him and peered into the boat, then smiled and held out her hand.

His brow furrowing, he took it, then tightened his hold when she promptly used him for balance as she stepped into the small craft. Releasing his hand, she then held her arms out for equilibrium and stepped to the far seat where she settled herself comfortably, then turned and gave him a look of expectation.

Muttering under his breath, Hethe clasped the post the boat was tied to, then followed, clambering into the watercraft, not looking at all happy. Helen waited until he was seated opposite her before saying,

"You have to untie the boat."

He stared at her blankly for a moment, then turned to stare at the post and the rope leading to it from a metal hook inside the boat. She had meant for him to have to stand up to untie the end attached to the post, but instead he untied the end in the boat and tossed it over the side where it would drag in the water. He turned to her with a shark-like smile, knowing he had confounded her plan to watch his discomfort.

Helen’s gaze narrowed slightly, but all she said was, "You have to push off now."

For a moment she thought that she’d won, that he would storm out of the boat and head for home. The thought made her giddy. She needed time to think. There had to be something she could still do to prevent this marriage. But while he did clamber out of the boat, it was only to push the craft out into the water.

"Goliath!" Helen called, and the dog, who had been nosing around something a little further up the riverbank, turned and raced back to them, leaping into the boat as Hethe shoved off and managed to lumber clumsily into the craft without getting too wet. Dropping promptly onto his rear, Hethe grabbed for both sides of the boat, holding on for dear life as Goliath settled by Helen’s feet in the bottom of the boat.

"There now, isn’t this nice?" she breathed, beaming at him as he peered at the water moving past and gulped.

‘Hmmm," he grunted, then glared with displeasure from her to the oars lying in the bottom of the boat.

Seeming to realize that he was expected to row them about, he picked up one, examined it briefly, then set it in its mooring. The second quickly followed, and he began a clumsy attempt at propulsion. It was more than obvious that he had not done this before, but Helen wasn’t too concerned. They wouldn’t go far. There really wasn’t much of a current here. This part of the river, while wide, was extremely slow and shallow. She wouldn’t tell him that, of course. She could hardly play on his supposed fear of water if he knew they were really in nothing more than a wide puddle – at least compared to some of the deeper and swifter-running rivers around these parts.

Leaning slightly to the side, she trailed her fingers in the cool water. Helen had walked down here often with Goliath, but had rarely been rowing. She wondered now why she hadn’t done so a time or two before. This was no one’s boat, really – and everyone’s. It had been here for as long as she could remember, something of a makeshift ferry, used by whomever was looking for a shortcut across the river rather than having to walk around or through it – providing it was on the appropriate side.

"Mayhap you shouldn’t lean over like that," Hethe said suddenly, drawing her gaze. "The boat seems to be dipping rather low on that side when you do."

There was no mistaking the tense edge to his voice; the man was nervous and there was no doubting it.

Helen felt herself smiling. After what he had put her through yesterday, it was nice to see him suffer a bit.