The Bride's Portion. Susan Paul

country, and to protect and cherish the fairer sex. He certainly was failing in the latter! And yet, he thought, keeping Gyer out of war was worth breaking every vow he had ever made.

      “I’m sorry for that. I assure you that my intention is not to frighten or upset either your maid or yourself. Please believe that you will both be treated with respect and consideration while you are here.”

      “How very kind you are, my lord,” she replied icily, “but as I told you last eve, we merely wish to take our leave of Gyer as soon as possible. We have enjoyed quite enough of your hospitality.”

      Alexander chose his next words carefully. “Again, my lady, I am sorry. It will be necessary for you to remain at Gyer for the time being.”

      He was prepared for a typically female reaction to this statement: crying, screaming, wailing. He was not prepared for Lillis of Wellewyn’s reaction. She regarded him coolly, very little emotion showing on her face.

      “You appear to be a reasonable man, Alexander of Gyer,” she said, much of the chill gone from her tone. “I cannot be certain, of course, but I do not think you are either insane or inherently evil, so there must be good cause for what you are doing. I would appreciate it, my lord, if you will explain the matter to me.”

      Alexander was almost as shocked by her calm response as he’d been by the lady’s looks. Any other female of his acquaintance would now be in a puddle of tears at his feet. But if Lillis of Wellewyn could behave calmly and reasonably, so much the better for all concerned.

      “You said last night that you had not been home for many years. I think perhaps you may be unaware of your father’s recent activities. Is this so?”

      “My father?” she repeated with surprise. “No, I do not know what his activities are. Even had I been living at home I might not know, for he has ever been private about the management of the estate. Has he—has he done something wrong?”

      Alexander regarded her for a moment, then said, “About six months ago your father built a dam on the Eel River, cutting off the main water supply to Gyer. I do not know why he did it, only that he did and that he will not negotiate with me regarding it. As you can imagine, my people have suffered a great deal because of this. Most of their crops have been ruined and now they are wondering how they will survive the coming winter, how they will put bread on their table. I am a wealthy man, my lady—” he shrugged “—and will not hesitate to make certain that my vassals and villeins are cared for, but that will not solve the problem of next year’s crops, and of the years after that. One way or another, by truce or by war, the dam your father built must be torn down. The thought of war is not a happy one for me, but I can see no other course while your father remains so stubborn.”

      She had grown still while he spoke. Her eyes had widened and now she stared at him in utter shock. “I had no idea,” she whispered. “I swear I did not.” Her expression pleaded with him to believe her, and he did. “It is no wonder that the people of Gyer received us so angrily yesterday,” she continued, as though speaking to herself. “They must have seen that our guards wore my father’s colors and realized we were from Wellewyn. After what my father has done, I cannot blame them. But why? Why would he do it?”

      “I don’t know,” he answered. “I had hoped you might be able to tell me, or give me some clue, but I see that you are as much in the dark as I. Your father has proved immeasurably stubborn in the matter. I’ve tried everything I know of, from offering money to making threats, but he’ll not be swayed. Yesterday I rode to Wellewyn to make him a final offer and he practically threw me out of that rotting pigsty he dares to name castle.”

      She frowned at him, and Alexander belatedly realized what he’d said, how basely he’d insulted her home. “Forgive me, my lady. That was mean spirited of me.”

      “I understand, Alexander of Gyer. You are very upset and have every right to be. What my father has done is unforgivable.” Still frowning, she looked away from him.

      Alexander gazed at the penitently bowed head of his captive and knew an unbidden desire to comfort her. She seemed genuinely unhappy about what her father had done; it would have been cruel for him to turn his anger with Jaward upon that man’s innocent daughter.

      “You are not to blame for this, Lillis of Wellewyn. I believe you had no knowledge of your father’s deeds.”

      She gazed at him fully, causing his heart to know a strange agitation. “I did not know,” she promised, “but now that I do, I vow I shall do all I can to have the dam torn down. Have you not petitioned the king regarding it?”

      He shook his head. “That is the beauty of your father’s scheme. It is perfectly legal, the dam having been built on his land, or rather, on your land. If I ride into Wellewyn to tear it down, I am the one who will attract the king’s wrath—for trespassing on another man’s property.”

      She seemed confused. “Why do you call it my land? No part of Wellewyn is mine.”

      “But it shall be, my lady, when you wed next month. Your father took particular delight in informing me that, even if he wished to do so, he could not sell the land on which the dam is built because it is part of your bride’s portion. The only man who will have power over that land will be your future husband, the Lord of Dunsted.”

      “Then I shall have the dam torn down when I am wed,” she declared, though somewhat uneasily. She seemed to become more embarrassed with each new revelation, and Alexander wondered if she had ever been aware that she had a claim to the lands of Wellewyn.

      “That would be ideal,” Alexander admitted, “however, your father made it clear that he’d had the choice of the man you shall wed, and that he and Jason de Burgh have an excellent understanding between them. You do know that Dunsted is directly to the south of Gyer, do you not?”

      Again she looked surprised. “No, I did not, though when my father wrote to tell me of my marriage, he said I should live close to Wellewyn. That is one of the reasons I agreed to it. Are you not...friendly with my future husband?”

      A bitter laugh escaped him. “Not the least bit friendly, though God knows I have tried time and again to come to terms with the man. There is a strip of land bordering Gyer and Dunsted that the people of both fiefs have disputed the ownership of for many years. The land belongs to Gyer, but Jason de Burgh and his are so stubborn over the matter that they refuse to give way. They insist on making pests of themselves by visiting raids on Gyer, while my people retaliate in kind, regardless of my efforts to stop them. I’ve tried to meet with de Burgh in an effort to come to some kind of settlement, but he persistently refuses to see me.” He drew in a taut breath, then released it. “I think your father has somehow convinced him that a war with Gyer would be profitable for them both, though God only knows what a madness that is.” Alexander rubbed his eyes again and felt weary.

      “But this is dreadful,” she whispered, her lovely face gone pale.

      “Yes, it is,” Alexander agreed. “With Wellewyn to the north and Dunsted to the south, I shall have quite a noose around my neck, shall I not? The worst part of the scheme is that I am the one who will be forced to declare war. I am the one who will be seen as the aggressor, who will have to face the wrath of the king. Your father could not have plotted a more perfect plan to bring me to ruin.”

      Lillis of Wellewyn looked wretchedly miserable. “I hardly know what to say to you, my Lord Gyer. I am so very sorry for what my father has done.”

      “You have no need to apologize, my lady,” Alexander assured her. “I have already said that you are not to blame.”

      “Still,” she persisted, “it is my father who is the source of your troubles, and I want you to know how deeply ashamed I am.”

      “You do not find it hard to believe that your father would do such a thing, though, do you?” he asked, considering her.

      “Do not misunderstand, Alexander of Gyer. I love my father. He is all I have ever had and has always shown me great love and kindness. Yet I must admit,” she said almost