Sir Dunn clearly did not share Lilliane's mood.

"How quickly she diverts you from your task," he accused as Corbett watched until Lilliane disappeared up the stone stairs.

But Corbett was too content to rise to his friend's baiting. "It would not be seemly for a man to ignore his wife. Especially one as sweetly formed as mine."

"Aye. She's sweetly formed. And words may flow like honey from her smiling lips, though I've yet to hear her be anything but a shrew. I know better than most how deceptive she can be."

Corbett laughed at that then slapped Dunn on the back. "Come now, man. Can you not forgive her that honest mistake?"

Dunn only frowned. Then he looked up questioningly. "She spoke of a child. William's brat is born?"

"His wife delivered him a girl. But only the child survived." Corbett sat down in a heavy oak chair and stared thoughtfully toward the fire. "Lilliane will raise it."

"What?" Dunn sc.r.a.ped another chair around then sat facing Corbett. "You will let her raise William's brat knowing everything you do about him?"

Corbett's jaw tensed and he looked challengingly at Dunn. "It's my brother's suspicious ties to William and his 'friends' that you refer to, no doubt. Certainly you imply nothing about Lilliane."

It was a statement, not a question, and Dunn heeded his lord's warning.

"Aye. That's all I mean. But it is sufficient. William will have every reason to linger at Orrick. If he is spying for Hughe, he will have knowledge of our every movement."

"As I will have of his. 'Tis better to have a known enemy close at hand than to have an unknown one G.o.d knows where." Corbett ran one knuckle along his scarred brow. "The dissidents must make their move before Edward returns. If Hughe is involved, William will be our connection to him."

"Do you still doubt Hughe's partic.i.p.ation in this treason?" Dunn scoffed.

Corbett's gaze darkened and his brow lowered in a frown. "The truth will out. If he's guilty then I'll spare him no pity. But I must have proof before I accuse my own brother. I must have proof."

14.

WINTER SET IN WITH a vengeance. The wind blew in harsh, unremitting blasts through the valley, moaning along the battlements, carrying sleet and freezing rain into every corner of Orrick.

Lilliane would have preferred snow. She could accept the icy weather and bitter cold if the countryside at least lay quiet and pristine beneath a beautiful blanket of feathery white snow. But the brutal cold that gripped Windermere Fold now offered no such mitigation.

In the village there was little activity; both men and beasts huddled for warmth in their shelters. In the castle the routine of life went on much the same, except that the fires in the hearths burned higher and the servants cl.u.s.tered more closely around them. The daily tasks of cooking and cleaning and tending to the demesne's business required the same attention as always.

But for Lilliane life had taken an abrupt turn. Castle matters she had well in hand. There was not a servant who dared take liberties, for her temper was well known to all of them. The hard visage of her warrior husband did not encourage any laxness on their part either. Even the care of tiny Elyse did not drastically alter Lilliane's life, for the babe had a wet nurse as well as both Magda and Ferga to see to her needs. Indeed, the baby was nothing but a pleasure to Lilliane, and she spent as much time as possible in the nursery.

It was the men of the castle who frustrated her endlessly.

Sir Dunn was dismal enough, what with his constant frown and watchful stare. She'd never felt so thoroughly disliked as she did when faced with his daily presence.

William was a more complex problem, however. At her request he had been allowed to remain at Orrick, although Corbett had made it clear he did so reluctantly and only because of the baby Elyse. As a result, William was constantly in attendance in the great hall, affording Lilliane no escape from him at all.

He was at his most charming during those cold, frozen days. He entertained everyone with amusing stories, tantalizing gossip, and astounding anecdotes about the London court. During the long evenings in the torchlit hall, Lilliane was once again reminded of the young man she'd once been so enamored of.

But she was also well aware of Corbett's festering anger.

By day her husband was a tireless lord. He had the carpenters clear a practice area within the barns so that he and his men might daily maintain their fitness for battle, no matter the weather. He studied every corner and twist of the meandering old castle, then translated that knowledge into drawings for improving both the defenses and comforts of the centuries-old structure. He examined Lord Barton's tally sheets and even, to her irritation, her own household books until he was thoroughly familiar with every facet and detail of Orrick's complex management.

In almost every area of the castle's stewardship he made some change or another, much to her aggravation. They clashed frequently. But he was adamant that they never argue in public.

Yet that was another problem as well. After venting her fury at him, she could not fathom how he could calmly ignore her wishes and then expect her to come willing to him at night. The very thought of his unerring ability to silence her with his kisses infuriated her. Each time she would be determined to resist him and somehow impress upon him the importance of her opinion. Yet invariably she succ.u.mbed.

He used his hands and his lips as effectively as any weapon, robbing her of her will and bending her to his own. He remained always the victor, supremely confident as he planted his stamp more and more firmly upon Orrick. And upon her.

There was only one subject that unsettled him. Lilliane saw it every night as the entire castle sat down to sup.

He would be unfailingly polite and solicitous with her. With his men he was ever ready for a joke or a shared toast. But her least display of friendliness or even civility toward William soured him at once. As the days went by Lilliane could not ignore his increasingly bad temper. She began to dread the outburst she sensed was in the offing as their confinement to the castle lengthened.

When a fair afternoon finally presented itself, she decided on impulse to take a ride. Fresh air and a hard gallop were just what she needed to break the tension she felt from all sides.

Once in the stable, she ignored the fl.u.s.tered stableman's mumbled words that she should not take a horse out. She simply led Aere to a low bench so that she could mount the mare unaided.

But she could not ignore Corbett's angry appearance at the foot of the gate tower, nor his sharp words as he grabbed the reins from her hands.

"Where in G.o.d's name do you think you're going?"

Although taken aback by his high-handed approach, Lilliane was quick to respond. "I plan to give Aere and myself a hard run. We've both a need to be rid of this place, if only for an hour."

"You can't go."

She had known that would be his response. Perhaps that was why she'd not even considered informing him of her plans. Yet even still, she could not prevent her surprise when he turned the horse and began to lead her back toward the stable.

"What do you think you're doing? Why, you horrible brute! Let me go. Let me go, I say!" At that she tried to yank the reins free. When that failed, she abruptly freed her leg from the pommel and swung neatly to the ground. Then she began to walk stiffly toward the gatehouse.

She got no farther than five paces before she was rudely hauled around to face him.

"Stop acting like a little fool," he snapped.

"It's not me who is acting the fool," she hissed readily. "You treat me like some hound you keep on a chain. But I will not be confined so. I will not!"

Lilliane was in a rage. All the pent-up frustrations of the past weeks served only to fuel her anger as she faced her husband's fierce glower. He had a harsh grip on each of her shoulders and she knew she would never be physically able to escape him. But he would not silence her this time, she vowed. She would vent her fury here, in the bailey where any eye or ear might freely see or hear what pa.s.sed between lord and lady.

"I do not confine you, Lily. You exaggerate on that score," he said in a quieter tone.

"Ha!" she scoffed. "I may not leave Orrick even for a pleasant ride. You check on every task I perform, always seeking to change my methods. You frown and glower the live-long day. I might as well be confined in the donjon for all the-"

"This is not the time nor place for such an outburst," he interrupted as he tried to steer her back to the keep.

But Lilliane shook off his hand and faced him squarely. "What would be the time and place?" she mocked. "Perhaps at the evening table?"

"Don't play the lackwit with me." Then he seemed to reconsider his words. "Listen to me, Lily. I do not mean for you to be unhappy. We can talk about this tonight in the privacy of our chamber. Then you-"

"That is always your solution! Always! But that's not enough."

Corbett's expression became grim. "You should be glad to be treated so well. Any other husband would have beat you within an inch of your life for locking him out of the castle. Any other husband would have sent that baby on its way-the winter cold be d.a.m.ned. And yet for you that is not enough!"

Lilliane was silenced by his angry outburst. For a moment she considered his words, for she knew she could not argue with him. So what was it she wanted from him?

"I want ..." she began in a soft, trembling voice. Then she stopped. She wanted Orrick to be a happy place. But she didn't have any idea how to make it so. She wanted them to be at peace with one another, and she wanted him to see her in a different light.

Her confused thoughts could go no further. She swallowed hard as she stared into his angry gray eyes. Then she turned abruptly and hurried back to the keep.

Lilliane did not go down for the evening meal. She drank the broth Magda brought her and dutifully ate the square of white cheese, but she refused to join the company. Instead, she dismissed the nurse and tended the baby. The small chamber boasted a hearty blaze, for Lilliane refused to take any chances with the tiny girl. Holding the baby warm and comforting in her arms, she settled into a wooden chair before the hearth.

"Far away, far away, child; When will you give me a smile ..." she crooned softly to the baby. But the blurry infant gaze that met hers seemed as unlikely to smile warmly at her as was Corbett's piercing one.

She sighed as she thought of her difficult husband. She did not know what he wanted of her any longer. Once she'd thought she knew. He'd wanted Orrick, of course. Then she'd thought his clear pleasure with her in their marriage bed would be enough to keep them both content. But that was no longer sufficient for her. And obviously it was not enough for him either. But what did he want of her?

She bent her face down to nuzzle the baby's soft cheek. Elyse smelled of milk and mint oil and baby, and it was strangely rea.s.suring. When the door creaked slightly she did not even look up but only murmured, "You need not return so soon. I'll stay with her awhile."

"And neglect your duties in the meantime?"

Lilliane's head jerked up at Corbett's quiet remark. He stood within the door opening, almost as if he hesitated to enter. A part of Lilliane, something deep within her, leapt to see him standing there. He had come to find her, and she could not ignore the feelings of satisfaction that gave her. But she cautioned herself not to make too much of it.

"The castle will not be neglected by my absence on this single occasion. Magda will see that naught goes amiss."

"Magda cannot sit beside me."

Lilliane peered warily at him, trying to decipher the meaning behind such odd words. Then she gave him an arch look. "If you fear the gossip springing from our-our disagreement in the bailey, well, I have much familiarity with the gossips. Believe me when I say you will survive."

To her surprise, he did not rise to the sarcasm edging her words. Instead he took a step further into the room and closed the door to the drafty corridor. When he still did not speak she peered at him curiously, unable to fathom his strange mood.

Finally he came nearer then stood before her, his legs planted apart, his hands behind his back. "Is this some new method you have adopted to annoy me?"

Lilliane knew he referred to her absence from the table, but she took perverse satisfaction in feigning innocence.

"How selfish you are to begrudge this little motherless baby a few minutes of my time," she replied in her most injured tone.

"d.a.m.n it, woman! That is not what I meant." He stared accusingly at her. "And you're well aware of it also."

It was all she could do to stifle the laugh that bubbled to her lips; she had to look down quickly at Elyse's puckered face so that he would not see her expression. She knew she would have to say extra prayers this evening to atone for the wicked delight she took in frustrating him this way. But then, he deserved it, she reminded herself, recalling how abruptly he'd spoiled her ride earlier.

"Well, if it is not the time I spend with Elyse that bothers you, then what?" she persisted.

Corbett's scowl deepened. "How long shall you stay away from the evening gatherings?"

"It is not my intent to irritate you by my absence," Lilliane finally answered more soberly. "It was just that today ..." She trailed off as she thought once more how unreasonable he had been.

"It is just today that you wished to irritate me," he finished curtly.

His self-centered complaint was the last straw. She stood up quickly and laid the baby back in her wooden cradle. After tucking the soft wool blanket securely around her, she slowly turned to face Corbett. She was furious all over again at his selfish att.i.tude.

"Today," she began vehemently, "today I simply could not abide one more minute of the farce we call a marriage." She smiled bitterly when his brows raised in surprise.

"This castle has a long history of strife. But I've never felt it so keenly as now. Not even when our families were embroiled in fierce combat! And it's all your fault!"

"My fault!" he exploded. "My fault? From the first moment I laid eyes on you you've been nothing but trouble!"

"Then leave here!"

In the silence that followed her shrill cry they stared at one another. He looked furious, his face darkened in a frown. But her vision was quickly blurred by the tears that sprang unwanted to her eyes. Mortified, she turned abruptly away. How she wished she could take back those rash words. But once said they could not be banished. Indeed, she was not at all certain what she would say in their place.

"You'll not be rid of me so easily, Lilliane. No matter how much you may wish me gone."

A lump lodged in her throat at that and she wrung her hands together. "I don't ... I didn't mean that," she admitted in a small, quiet voice.

When there was no reply from him, she peered cautiously up at him. He had not moved. Not an inch. He was just staring at her as if he struggled to understand just what sort of woman it was that he had wed.

"I confess, you leave me continually baffled, Lilliane." For once he truly seemed not in control of the situation. "What is it that you mean? Shall I leave or shall I stay?"

She would not believe he would actually leave Orrick if she so demanded. She was certain he would never do that. Yet perhaps it was their marriage he referred to. Still, whichever it was, she took some comfort in knowing he wished to know how she truly felt.

As she struggled to find words, he ran his hands through his hair and released a weary sigh. "Will you at least give me an honest answer? You need not fear my reprisal."

"I feel so ... so alone," she confessed softly.

"Alone? G.o.d's teeth, but we are surrounded day and night! By servants and retainers. And unwanted guests."

"That's not what I meant," she interjected softly. With her nerves in a tangle, she began to restlessly roam the small chamber. "I too feel the strain of the last weeks here. But I am nonetheless alone. I don't know ..." She shook her head sadly. "I don't know what you expect of me."

He was silent a moment. "But do you want me to leave or stay?" he asked once more in a quiet tone.

The low rumble of his voice seemed to strike some chord in her and a quiver shook her. She knew her answer. It was foolish of her to pretend otherwise.

"I want you to stay," she admitted, watching him guardedly. At the quick lifting of his expression she hurried on. "But we cannot continue on as we are. Some things must change."

Corbett nodded slowly, keeping his smoky gray gaze locked thoughtfully upon her. "Perhaps ..." he began. Then he smiled and it was almost as if the sun suddenly shone upon her. "I must depart for London very soon. Would you leave Orrick to travel with me?"

"Leave Orrick?" Lilliane was completely taken by surprise.

"Dunn will see to the defenses. Ferga will tend the babe. Magda will keep everyone else well in line. Orrick will survive your absence, Lily."

"I do not doubt that," she revealed, a hesitant smile beginning to curve her mouth.

"Do you doubt the sincerity of my invitation?"

Lilliane did not answer. Perhaps a change of scenery would be good for them, for away from the routine of Orrick-and the oppressive presence of William and Dunn-they might indeed be able to work out some of their problems.

"But why so far away? Why London?"