Velvet Touch. Catherine Archer

Stephen took this in. He had no desire to get himself involved in affairs between a man and wife. But if it must be so to see his duty done, he would have little choice. With trepidation, Stephen took a long breath and expelled it, then asked, “What mean you?”

      “I mean, sir, that my wife will never allow this marriage to take place, even can you arrange it. You see, it began when Mary was a child and made a foolish vow to someday take the cloth. Years later, when her father arranged our marriage, she had not forgotten and balked against the union.” He spoke, his tone without feeling, as if once started he no longer cared about the telling of a tale that had long pained him. “But we were young and our bodies strong.” Only now did he take on a wistful intonation. “That was the happiest year of my life. Though reluctant at first, Mary became eager in her passions. For those months she gave of herself as I had not thought possible, especially when she had not wished to come to me, and had only acquiesced when her father forced her. But it was as if her desire, once awakened, could not be cooled Even when we discovered that she was with child, our passions did not abate. It was only when the babe was born, her ankle twisted, that my wife turned from me. She was convinced that Fellis’s deformity was a sign that God was punishing her for not fulfilling her vow to become a nun. Nothing could sway her from that thinking. She turned from me and our marital bed.”

      Stephen could hardly credit this story. That a mother should think this of her own daughter, and that a wife should openly refuse her husband and her duty to produce children went against reason. It would be different if she had found her husband distasteful, but from the account, that was clearly not so. “How old is Fellis then? She is no longer a child.”

      Lord Grayson frowned, looking down at his hands. “She is some moons past eighteen.”

      Stephen shook his head. It amazed him that the situation could have gone on for so many years.

      “My lady wife is determined that Fellis will fulfill her broken vow. And naught I have said has ever convinced her that it shall not be so.” The baron heaved a sigh of sorrows unspoken.

      Stephen felt himself unwillingly being pulled into the web of their lives. He could not prevent himself from asking, “Why then is Fellis not a nun, if your lady is so determined that she will be?”

      “I have refused to pay the dowry. It is the one thing I have had the strength to defy her on.”

      With that, he rose and left a pensive Stephen seated alone in the hall. He felt sympathy for the other man but knew he could not allow himself to become too involved in what was going on between the residents of Malvern castle. His duty here was to see Fellis Grayson wed to Wynn ap Dafydd.

      Mary Grayson must and would come to see the facts as they were. It was for the good of her family and the people of her lands that she do so. Her own desires surely came second to that.

      And it was best for Fellis, Stephen told himself. What must it have been like for her to live with the knowledge that she was responsible for paying for her mother’s imagined sins? Marriage, even to her enemy, must be preferable to that. Fellis must simply be brought to understand this.

      Stephen felt a tug of something uncomfortable in his chest at the notion of Fellis’s marriage. He sat up straighter, telling himself that having seen the woman without clothing did not give him any right to her.

      And such thoughts were nothing short of foolish, as it was. He did not know her. Only that he had seen her and desired her in a way he had not known possible.

      But somehow he must make himself forget that desire. It was all he could do.

      Not knowing what to do with himself, Stephen remained seated. He had no idea where he might be accommodated. Such things were always an issue in the running of an overflowing keep. Clearly the family members were too upset to have given the matter any thought.

      It was only a short time later that Stephen was surprised to see Lady Grayson return to the door of the hall. Although he knew she viewed him with ill favor, he could not deny a feeling of relief and went to her quickly.

      She looked to him with a frown of displeasure, which Stephen did his best to ignore. “My Lady Grayson,” he said, “I am most gladdened to see you.”

      Her pinched expression told him she was anything but delighted to see him. She made no pretense at polite response. “I came in search of my lord husband. I am sorry to have disturbed you, Sir Clayburn.”

      He held out a hand to stop her. “Nay, you do not disturb me. I was hoping someone would come to tell me where I am to be housed.”

      She gave him a long, disapproving look as if housing him was of great distaste to her. “I am seeing to that at this moment,” she replied with transparent reluctance. “If you will but wait for me to see to things I will attend you. Excuse me if the wait is overtaxing, I must first find my husband before I can do so. I have need of his strong arms.”

      “Is there aught I can do to assist you?” he asked pleasantly, at his most agreeable even in the face of her dislike.

      She frowned at him. “I think it best if I find my lord husband.”

      She turned to go, but Stephen followed her. “Dear lady, please allow me to be of assistance. I feel as if I have inconvenienced you and wish to make myself useful.” He nodded, unruffled by her disapproval. Now that he knew whence it came, he felt no need to take any personal responsibility for her displeasure.

      Lady Grayson was in a hell of her own making.

      Obviously surprised at his continued good humor, she gave an offhanded shrug. “Mayhap you can help, if that be your desire.”

      With a smile that had melted many a hard heart, Stephen motioned forward.

      She only made a rude sound in her throat and led the way.

      They climbed a narrow stairway to the second floor of the keep. Lady Grayson opened the door of a well-lighted, comfortable-looking chamber with a large bed and a tall window swathed in crimson draperies that matched those on the bed. A fire burned in the hearth and the room was somewhat overwarm for Stephen’s comfort.

      But he made no comment as she led him directly to the bed and he looked down upon a diminutive elderly lady who was dwarfed by the enormous piece of furniture. As she saw Stephen, she smiled, peering up at Mary Grayson curiously. “Is this the young man then who will sleep in my chambers?”

      Immediately Stephen shook his head as understanding dawned. “Nay, Lady Grayson. I cannot put this lady from her bed.”

      The elderly dame turned her still-alert blue eyes upon him. “Do not be foolish, young sir, I will be most insulted if you refuse.”

      “But, my lady…” He looked to Mary Grayson, realizing he did not know to whom he was speaking.

      Lady Mary answered the unspoken question stiffly. “This is my husband’s lady mother, Myrian Grayson.” She motioned toward the knight. “As you have guessed, Mother, this gentleman is Sir Stephen Clayburn, the very one I spoke to you about. He is come to make Fellis marry the Welshman.” She turned to Stephen with accusing eyes.

      “’Tis time Fellis married,” the tiny woman said. “Too much of her life has been wasted already. The girl needs to give me a great-grandchild while I am still upon this earth.”

      Lady Mary made a noise of denial. “You, as well as anyone, know that Fellis will be God’s bride and no other’s, Mother.” She looked to Stephen, her mouth set in stubborn rebellion.

      “Now,” she said to him, clearly trying to forestall any rejoinder on his part, “shall we go about moving my lady mother, or will we stand about discussing matters which have already been set?” She gave an impatient sigh. “If you will not, I must fetch my husband. For Lady Myrian will not allow the servants to carry her.”

      Stephen felt his ire rising and fought hard to quell it. He was not accustomed to being the brunt of such open antagonism and it irked him. But he was not going to allow this woman to see that. With carefully schooled features, he said, “I