Velvet Touch. Catherine Archer

decided to allow the matter to rest.

      He would discover the facts soon enough.

      But he was determined not to let whatever it was stand in his way. He had been given many tasks to perform in his duties to the crown. He knew that though this one be clearly difficult, he was not about to admit defeat at the onset.

      Stephen felt certain he could see this through.

      And once it was settled, there was the matter of the woman from the wood. Though he knew it was pure foolhardiness on his part, Stephen could not dismiss the notion of trying to locate her.

      His body tightened at the very idea. Be she some nobleman’s bastard, he would surely be able to come up with the coin to loosen any possible resistance.

      But once more he dragged his thoughts back to the present. Not until Stephen had seen to his official duties would he be free to pursue his own interests.

      With impatience, he turned to the doorway through which he expected Lord Grayson’s wife and daughter to come.

       Chapter Two

      Just a short time later, Stephen watched as two female figures came to the arched doorway of the hall. The light from the narrow windows was not bright on that end of the hall at this hour and, as they paused at the other end of the wide stone chamber, the two were cloaked in shadow.

      The first, a slender woman of perhaps forty entered after only a moment’s hesitation. She was dressed in simple but well-made garments of dark blue samite, and her head was covered by a dark veil and wimple. A ring of keys rode the belt at her waist and she approached Richard Grayson with stiff formality. “You sent for me, my lord husband.” She nodded, her brown eyes fixed on the one she addressed without affection.

      Stephen could see that she had surely once been a pretty maid. But now her expression was tightly fixed and unyielding, leaving her features pinched.

      Grayson turned to Stephen, no hint of his feelings on his face. “Allow me to present my wife, the Lady Mary.”

      She made no attempt at speech, simply stared at him coolly.

      Her husband gestured toward Stephen. “My lady, this is Sir Stephen Clayburn, he is come here from King Edward.”

      Stephen nodded and uttered a polite greeting. “Lady Grayson.” There seemed little about this woman to lend such awe in her husband, though she did appear somewhat ill-tempered.

      Lady Grayson’s expression was rife with displeasure, her lips set in a firm line. Considering the fact that her husband had expressly forbidden the serving woman to tell his wife of Stephen’s purpose in being there, her attitude was surprising.

      He wondered if her reaction was directed toward himself, her husband, or just a sign of a sour nature. He hoped she had not passed it on to her daughter if the latter was the case.

      With curiosity, Stephen’s gaze strayed to the other female who still lingered in the shadows beside the doorway.

      Stephen became aware of Lord Grayson’s attention and turned to the other man to find a smile on his handsome face. Not that there was any real humor in it. That grin bespoke more a sense of resignation and pity for Stephen.

      Unsure as to the cause of either emotion, Stephen turned his attention back to the girl.

      “My daughter, Fellis,” the older man confirmed. His tone became one of impatience. “Come here, girl, into the light where we can see you. You have no need to fear.”

      She hesitated still, only her shoulders shifted as if with indecision.

      Lady Grayson spoke and her tone was filled with suspicion. “Why are we here, Richard?” she asked. “Why have you sent for Fellis to come to the hall and meet this man.”

      When Stephen looked at her, she was staring at Lord Grayson with open hostility. “I hope you have not finally given in to your selfish desire to try to wed our daughter to some hopeful suitor. He will only end in leaving here disappointed.”

      Richard laughed, still without humor. “Not I, my dear. And this man is no suitor, so you may cast your righteous indignation toward him away. He has not come here to marry our precious daughter. Though you will be equally displeased when you find out why he has come.”

      Stephen frowned. The relationship between husband and wife was more openly antagonistic than any he’d seen. His own parents had indeed argued in their marriage before they had succumbed to the plague, yet there had been no hint of the bitterness that clearly existed between these two.

      Yet that was not his concern. Getting their daughter married was, and he wondered at the strange remarks Lady Mary had made concerning her fears that Lord Richard had brought the knight to Malvern as a suitor. The subject was clearly a heated one.

      But he stopped himself there. What had gone before mattered not in the least. The future was paramount and Stephen was not going to allow them to digress into an argument about the situation before he’d even had a chance to reason with the girl.

      He was certain that, given an opportunity to see what her duty was, the maid would do as she must.

      Thinking to expedite the process of explaining the situation, Stephen called out softly, speaking directly to the girl. “Do not shy from me, Maid Grayson, I am not here to do you harm. As your father has told you there is nothing to fear from me.”

      She stepped farther into the room and stood in the soft golden glow of one window’s light. Still she did not raise her head.

      Stephen was surprised to see the young girl dressed in a gray rough-spun garment much like that of a nun. A veil and wimple of the same dull hue covered her head and obscured any glimpse of her face from his view.

      He wondered at such lowly dressing for the lord’s own daughter and swung around to face her parents with a frown. Though the mother’s cote was admittedly plain, he had taken note of the fineness of the blue cloth. “What means this garb? Did I not know better I would think your daughter had taken holy orders. Or that she must live by some vow of poverty unobserved by the rest of her kin.”

      Richard Grayson faced him with a frown of his own, though he made no reply. It appeared that the situation pleased him no more than it did the younger man

      His wife interjected with a self-satisfied smile. “Unwittingly you have hit upon the truth. Although my daughter has not taken vows as of yet, ’tis but a matter of time until that eventuality takes place. We wait only for her father to pay her dowry and the abbey at Hardwicke will receive her into their order.”

      Stephen gave a visible start at hearing this. Even though he’d said the words, he’d not thought of them as anything beyond reprimand for the girl’s poor state of dress. Then he forced his shoulders to relax. He was not going to let this woman get the better of him. “I think not, Lady Grayson. Your daughter is to be wed, most certainly, but not to our Lord and Savior.”

      Mary Grayson looked to her husband as her daughter echoed her gasp of shock. “What says he, my lord husband? This is surely some jest on your part. Why you just said this man was not here to wed our Fellis.”

      “He is not,” Lord Grayson intoned “He is come to arrange a marriage betwixt Fellis and Wynn ap Dafydd.”

      Mary Grayson cried, “Not on my life. You will not marry my daughter to that Welsh barbarian.”

      Richard Grayson flushed, casting an angry frown Stephen’s way. “Lady wife, you know my feelings concerning our enemy match your own. I have not given my permission for this event to take place. Only agreed to go forward with talks on the matter should the Welsh agree to comply with a truce. I have been left with little choice in the matter. King Edward himself has sent this man here to see to the deed.”

      Stephen did not look at him but kept his gaze on the Lady