Lady Squire Page 9

  "Merin." Guillaume beckoned her over unexpectedly. Valentin choked back a gasp at the mention of her name. But she came now, uncertainly, not quite daring to meet anyone's eye. Behind her, Matilda shot a look at Guillaume that was met only with a feral grin.

  "Talk to this man." Guillaume turned back to the knight he'd been swapping congratulations with. Ralph de Niege, a formidable tourneyer and one of the day's great successes. "Just so I can tell your parents I've introduced you."

  "Charmed," de Niege said as Merin curtsied politely. "Duty discharged. You can go."

  "I didn't actually speak to you," Merin replied, with a saucy smile.

  "You've done so now. Go away, child. We have men's talk to pursue here. Guillaume, what the devil was that late charge for? Could have overset my men by mistake."

  "I don't make mistakes," Guillaume said with lazy self-satisfaction. "If your men are incompetent enough to get caught in the middle of the wrong retinue, well - " He shrugged.

  "Not my men who are incompetent," de Niege said. "They do not, for instance, bring down lords who fight on their own side." He winked at Valentin.

  "De Rous has always been incompetent," Guillaume announced loudly. "His aim's even worse than his hold."

  De Niege laughed. Valentin stole a brief glance at their common enemy, who stalked off in obvious fury.

  "Shame you had to rely on a new-made knight to bring him down, though," de Niege went on. "Time was you'd have flattened him the moment he came near you. Losing your touch, old man?"

  "Just giving the boys a bit of practice," Guillaume said equably.

  "I don't get a blow for that?" de Niege asked in mock surprise.

  "Hardly worth it. You're only baiting me."

  "No fists, nor so much as the threat of a snarl?" de Niege persisted. "You're no fun any more. Marriage disagrees with you, it seems."

  "Talk to the girl," Guillaume said.

  "Eh. Don't listen to my mother. She thinks a man can't be happy without a wife."

  Valentin glanced sidelong at Merin. She was blushing, eyes lowered. He yearned to touch her, caress that soft skin, kiss her lips. But it would be unpardonable. Of course it would.

  They were called to table at that point, and he must separate from her. During the meal, he took care not to betray his feelings by look or word. But he remained acutely aware of her presence, and struggled to direct his attention as he ought.

  Guillaume and Matilda seldom stayed late during festivities like these, but tonight they seemed to linger forever. Not for the wish of taunting de Rous, who took himself off in a cloud of mute rage soon after the tables had been cleared away. But they dawdled among the crowds of friends and well-wishers, swapped news and stories with acquaintances they had not met up with for a while. This was life on the road, travelling and fighting, gathering together and then dispersing along separate paths and then eventually gathering again.

  Valentin knew this life and liked it. But he realised now that he didn't love it. Never had done. He craved a settled life, a steady round of work and rest within the peace of a permanent home. He didn't belong on the road, the way Guillaume and most of the retinue did. What he yearned for was a life such as he'd experienced at Alan's manor, calm and secure, free to indulge in the pursuit of perfection.

  He could offer service to Alan. If Guillaume permitted it.

  That was a new and terrible thought. Valentin had never imagined himself voluntarily leaving Guillaume's service. And he was not unhappy in his present sphere, far from it. Merin aside, he would gladly continue this travelling life forever, if it kept him close to his own beloved lord.

  But given Merin...

  Valentin paused there. He could not bear to indulge such dreams, not yet.

  He searched his heart, tried to discover if he could be truly happy serving Alan if Merin was not by. Imagined himself training in that yard, eating in that hall, without Merin's shining eyes to gladden him. It felt empty, that dream: without her, nothing seemed meaningful. Yet he thought he would be happier in such a life than continuing indefinitely on the road.

  Perhaps he could speak with Guillaume. Ask for advice and guidance, such as had always been forthcoming during their years together.

  But first of all, he must speak to Merin.

  If he could get close enough. She remained under Matilda's wing, even now, disregarded by lady and lord alike. Valentin eased from his proper place, approached her under cover of Guillaume's friends, caught her eye. Offered a hesitant smile, and received a shy one in return.

  Merin glanced at Matilda, then at Guillaume. Both were fully engaged in their own conversations. She edged away a little, enough to reach Valentin where he stood alone in a pool of silent hope, came close enough to touch. Not that he would, certainly not in a place as scrutinised as this. But having her so near made him breathe faster, and wish.

  "You wanted to speak with me," Merin whispered.

  Valentin's body turned numb, with fear or hope or a giddy mixture of both. "From the heart," he whispered back. "I've realised that I desire to be with you, more than anything else in the world. If I offer for you - in marriage - would you be pleased?"

  Merin's eyes shone like stars. "I would," she breathed. "Can you?"

  "I can try." Valentin debated mentioning his plans, but resolved against. This was neither the place nor the time. He must speak with Guillaume first, and then Alan, and after that - please God - with Merin's father. All he needed to know right now was that he had her blessing and her love. "Let me think of a way. I just want to be certain it is your wish also."

  "It is." Merin snuck close to him, rose up on tiptoe, kissed his cheek. Such a light caress, yet it shot through his body like a sharpened lance. "I want it more than anything else I could dream of."

  "Then we'll find the means," Valentin promised. "Be it wealth or position I need, I will make it happen."

  Guillaume stirred. Merin darted away, threw one last shining smile across the gulf that now divided her from Valentin, resumed a demure expression along with her place by Matilda's side. Valentin smirked to himself, revelled in the adroit elegance of her movements, and quietly slipped back to where he ought to be.

  He spent an eternity waiting, attending Guillaume with exemplary respect and fielding the occasional congratulation or jest from other men with full courtesy. He must show himself the perfect knight from this moment onwards, because no other path could take him towards Merin.

  It took many hours, but Valentin finally caught his chance. On returning to the tent, Guillaume beckoned him in, and handed over a promissory note signed with a flamboyant swirl.

  "Share in the ransom," Guillaume said. "You may as well take it from me now, because I'll have to beat actual payment out of de Rous. Which should be satisfying." He grinned to himself.

  Valentin handled the scroll with a delicate touch. Until now, he had not truly believed any share in that enormous ransom would be his. He'd been used to token payments for his part in Guillaume's success: a handful of silver coins, a new bridle or a length of fabric - welcome, certainly, to a man with no wealth of his own, but nothing he could use to establish his own independence.

  Whereas this could buy him free of one lord, and into the service of another.

  "May I speak with you?" Valentin asked. "On a matter of grave importance."

  "I already told you to stay away from the girl." Guillaume flung himself into a seat and gestured for wine.

  Valentin tucked the scroll behind his belt. No one else was in attendance, so he poured out wine, sweetened it, presented it with both hands. He'd been so long in this man's service, each action had by now become instinctive. His body moved as if of its own accord, in the manner Guillaume demanded.

  Perhaps it was time for that to change.

  "Lord," Valentin said, "I ask - with all due reverence - that you release me from your service."

  Guillaume froze with the cup halfway to his lips. "I didn't hear that right."

  "Since we
left the manor of Alan de la Falaise," Valentin said, "I have come to realise that I wish for a settled life such as I enjoyed during our stay there. I intend to return and offer him my service, if you would consent to let me go."

  Guillaume set the cup down, and eyed Valentin with a suspicious stare. "Because of Merin?"

  Valentin decided to venture all. "I wish to offer for her. This - " he indicated the scroll - "will make a good beginning. I hope to prove to her family that I am a suitable prospect, by serving her brother to full satisfaction. Who and what I am is known to you, and if I have your good wishes that is all I dare ask."

  "You've always had those," Guillaume said. "From the moment you came to me. But I warn you that Merin's family may not be so easily swayed. Alan thinks well of you, so chances are he'll leap at the opportunity to take you into his own service. But it's no life for a free man. Why the devil you'd want to give up the tourney scene to spend the rest of your life going round and round on a little patch of sand is beyond me."

  Valentin knelt. "Believe me, lord, there is no greater honour for me than to fight beside you. Whether for sport or survival. But my greatest joy lies in practising for the youths' games. I don't know why. Perhaps I'm not yet fully a man, though you have deemed me so."

  Guillaume shrugged. "Some men are happier training than fighting. Alan is. I used to think that made them cowards and fools, but having known one of the best... Maybe there's value in it. If you want to serve him, and he's willing to take you, then I don't object."

  He seemed on the point of speaking further, but drank the wine instead. Valentin waited, breath held.

  "As for Merin," Guillaume said slowly, "I can't make any promises. She's not mine to give in any case, and if she were I wouldn't give her to you. Nothing against you as a man - nothing at all. But she could match higher. Still, it's not up to me. I will speak for you to Alan if you wish, and to Charles also. That is as far as my influence reaches."

  ***

  CHAPTER 7

  She was home. She really was.

  Merin practically danced in the saddle, aglow with delight at every familiar view. How she'd missed these fields and rolling hills and the glittering surface of the river. Over there, just another day's ride away, lay the manor she'd been born and raised in, where her beloved family waited. Here, spread out as if dozing in the warmth of the sunshine, lay Alan's estate.

  How could she have been happy away from it all?

  But she was back now. She'd never have to travel again, unless she wished to. She could stay and be settled, in the place where she belonged.

  With Valentin.

  He was going to stay. If Alan agreed to take him. He'd told her so, in brief hurried words as they lingered in the gloom of the stable. She'd kissed him then, hastily, for sheer joy, and the memory of that delicate touch gladdened her lips still.

  Now she was here, she was home, and every part of her body thrilled with excitement.

  She could see Valentin, he rode ahead of her. And didn't he look good, so perfectly balanced in the saddle, so comfortable among her own familiar views. He belonged here, as she did. Merin could sense it.

  They would be so happy together, she and Valentin.

  If Alan agreed. And her parents. The thought chilled Merin's heart, just a little, as if a cloud had scudded across the sun. Matilda had not been sanguine about their prospects.

  But Merin refused to worry about that now. She thrust the thought aside firmly. There was nothing she could do about it in any case. And on a day like this, glorious and fair, with home and family waiting for her, she did not wish to waste a single moment on distress.

  They clattered down the lane that led to the manor house, a fine retinue of men and horses and carts. Merin watched it all with delight, and a little sadness too. She would miss these people, Guillaume and Matilda most of all. They had become dear friends to her, during the weeks she had spent in their company.

  She would miss this horse, too. Merin stroked the glossy neck affectionately, and was rewarded by pricked ears. Darling creature, so patient and kind. Merin couldn't keep it, of course, the animal belonged to the pages, she was only grateful she had been allowed to ride it all through this last stage of the trip home. But she would remember the joy of their companionship, and strive to bring that gentle forbearance into her own daily life.

  Here lay the manor house, dozing in the sunshine. There stood Alan and Caroline, indifferent to propriety, hand in hand deep within the shadow of a spreading chestnut tree. They smiled and waved as the company approached, and Merin waved back eagerly. Oh, it was so good to be home.

  She hurried on, too impatient to obey the dictates of rank. Guillaume would scowl, but she was out of his care now and need not fear his wrath. Still she glanced at him anxiously, because he had been kind to her and she did not wish to offend. But he was smiling, relaxed and contented in the sunshine, holding Matilda's hand as they rode side by side.

  Merin eyed them with envy, and the waiting couple likewise. So openly affectionate they could be, while she must hide her feelings away. But she smiled at Valentin as she passed him, slowed for a moment to linger by his side, imagined what it might feel like to touch him in so public a fashion.

  "Merin," Matilda said, in a quiet voice that nonetheless carried. Merin obediently quit Valentin's side and rode on to greet her sister.

  "Have you grown?" Alan asked in disbelief, peering up at her. "I could swear you're taller than when you left."

  "No." She would have noticed if her tunics didn't fit any more. Though they did pull over the chest and arms, now that she came to think of it. "And it's a smaller horse, so it can't be that."

  "Cute little toy creature." Alan stroked the animal's muzzle. Merin felt the body underneath her change instantly, as if he had laid a soothing spell upon it. She viewed Alan with new respect. This was a skill worth learning.

  Alan turned to greet Matilda and Guillaume, which gave Merin a moment to admire Valentin. He rode up quietly, waited in exemplary patience until ordered elsewhere, spared her no more than a single glance. But it glowed, so brilliant with joy that she laughed in return.

  That earned her some puzzled looks from the others, while Valentin rode on to attend to his own duties. "I can't believe how different everything seems," Merin improvised. "Even though it's all the same, I can see that, but it's all... different somehow."

  "That's travel," Alan said. "You'll feel more comfortable when you wake up tomorrow. Well, come inside and tell me just how much trouble she's been." He grinned at Matilda.

  "She's been a delight," Matilda said. "I'll miss her. We both will."

  Merin felt a pang to the heart. "I'll miss you too. If you come this way again, will you visit?"

  "Of course."

  Well, that was something. She must learn to be content. And with Valentin happily settled here, she would do so in enviable time.

  ***

  "Of course I'll take you," Alan said. "Very gladly indeed. I'd be a fool not to."

  Valentin permitted himself to experience a rush of delight. Then said, cautiously: "My lord, there is also another matter to discuss. I am minded to marry, if it can be arranged."

  Alan turned a sceptical look on him. "Don't know about that. We have no suitable girls to market. And you'll be working here. Real work - man's work. It won't be all dodging blows and greasing armour, like you're no doubt used to from serving Guillaume."

  Valentin failed to contain a smile. "Seven years a squire, my lord. Yes, I've done my share of it. I believe I'm ready for a new challenge." The humour faded. "Nothing said against him, though. He is a true giant of the tourney field."

  "Don't I know it," Alan said ruefully. "He beat that into me once, and I can still feel every blow. Especially in an easterly wind. You won't get much of that here. If you can fight at need, and help train up the squires, that's good enough for me. With regard to marriage..." Alan considered.

  Valentin waited, breath held.

  "I r
efuse you permission," Alan said. "Serve me well and faithfully for three years, and we'll discuss it then."

  "Many things can happen in that time, my lord."

  "They can. You might establish a position here, for one thing. Become a valued man - and a trusted mentor to boys of good family, who will remember you in years to come. A husband worthy of the name, to any respectable girl."

  True. "But my lord, in the meantime... she might marry elsewhere."

  Alan quirked an eyebrow. "Do I take it we are discussing a particular interest?"

  It was painful to confide this matter. But Valentin had to speak, or risk losing his chance. "There is the lady Merin, my lord. I admire her a great deal, and I had hoped..." Valentin trailed off. He'd only dreamed, really. Because he could see, clear enough, how much better a choice she could make.

  "She's not mine to dispose of," Alan said. "You come with a character recommendation from Guillaume, whose judgement I trust. If you wish, I will say so to her parents. Serve me well, and I may add my own assurance. It will be their task to decide how much weight to give my word and his. As to fortune and family connections, you will have to do your best to satisfy them on those points. I can't help you there."

  Valentin brooded. "May I have your permission to speak to them?"

  "Not yet."

  "To her, then - to the lady herself?"

  Alan considered. "I'll discuss it with my wife. If she regards it as suitable, then in her presence and mine you may raise the matter with Merin. Not alone." He fixed Valentin with a stare that for all its surface calm was fully as ferocious as one of Guillaume's. "You will not meet with her alone. Nor will you address such issues with her unless my wife and I are present. If you do, I will turn you off at once and forever, without my name or countenance. Understand?"

  Valentin swallowed. "Perfectly, my lord."

  "Then go about your work. I will let you know when you may speak to Merin."