Page 17 of A Husband for Esyllt
Esyllt blushed. How had he guessed the mystery had fascinated her from the moment she had come to live here with Gwyn all those years ago? “I always imagined that they were two lovers dying together.”
“Killed by a jealous husband walking in on them, you mean?”
“No!” She had never once in all those years imagined that they would be an adulterous pair. Trust him to immediatelyassume the worst. “Rather two young people who had to meet in secret because they could not be together.”
“Ah.” Connor bit into his dried apple but he couldn’t hide the twinkle in his eyes. “My wife is a romantic.”
What could she answer to that? Nothing, because she was. The only problem was, she had never had the luxury of being one. Two marriages arranged by other people had seen to that. Love was not something she could afford to think about, now less than ever.
“In any case, we’ll never know who they truly were,” she concluded.
Just then the castle steward entered the great hall, followed by Gruffydd, four of his men and Matthew, who came to stand beside Connor, as if he feared the Welshmen would lunge at him with their swords drawn before he’d had time to blink. Apparently, he’d changed his mind about going for a ride in favor of playing the protective big brother again. The thought both warmed and reassured her, because she knew Gruffydd was only waiting for the opportunity to strike, and she didn’t want him to.
“Bore da,” he started, using the Welsh greeting. Esyllt would not be surprised if he pretended not to be able to speak English, just to make a point.
“Good morning,” Connor replied, standing up.
“And good morning to you too,” Matthew said when the Welshman pointedly ignored him.
“As for you, I might have greeted you if I knew who you were,” Gruffydd snarled, not in the least impressed. At least he’d reverted to English.
“You can call me Matthew. I’m his lordship’s brother.”
Though she should perhaps have sympathized with him, since she’d suffered from the deception herself, Esyllt enjoyed the sight of Gruffydd’s displeasure. He had been taken for afool, but perhaps he did not deserve any better. After all, he had organized the match. If one person should have known who her groom was, it was him. The incident made her realize just how cynical he’d been, choosing a husband for her regardless of his personal qualities and not even bothering to meet him beforehand. If he’d been tricked, he had only himself to blame.
“Now, we have important matters to discuss,” he said, facing Connor once more. “That is, if you trulyareLord Sheridan, of course.”
“I am. You can safely address me with the respect you owe me and call me ‘my lord’.”
The rebuff was softened by a smile that would have ensnared a dragon, which was fortunate. Gruffydd had never looked more furious. Esyllt almost laughed out loud. There were some advantages to being married to a formidable man, it seemed, one who would not let anyone forget who was master of the situation. She would enjoy watching him tame Gruffydd.
“Leave us,” the Welshman said, not even bothering to look at her.
Before she could answer, Connor raised a hand. “Lady Sheridan will attend the meeting if such is her wish. She will be a useful addition to the proceedings. After all, she’s been the one looking after Esgyrn Castle since her husband’s death. As such, she is the most appropriate person to bring me up to date with its working, wouldn’t you agree? I will want to hear her opinion.”
Esyllt’s eyebrows shut upward. Was this another trick? Did her husband mean to expose her lack of knowledge in front of everyone and use it later on to impress on to her that she could not be involved in his decision making? If this were the case, he would be sorely disappointed because he was right, shewasthe best person to inform him of the castle’s workings and she would be only too glad to prove it.
“With your permission, my lord, I will stay,” she said, taking the arm he was offering. For the first time since she’d been told she was to remarry, a flicker of hope lit up in her chest. Perhaps this marriage would bring her some satisfaction. If she was allowed to help in the administration of their domain, she would not feel like a pretty ornament stripped of all power. As a trusted ally, she would be able to influence her husband’s decisions and make sure to protect her Welsh tenants’ interests from the worst of English greed. Not that she thought Connor an unreasonable man who would turn into a tyrant, but he himself was obeying his king’s orders.
Gruffydd raised a hand in protest when she started to walk toward the door on her husband’s arm. “Get back to whence you came and leave us men to?—”
“If I hear you address my wife in such a disrespectful manner again, I will demand that you apologize for it on your knees,” Connor snarled, coming to stand directly in front of Gruffydd. “Are we clear?”
He’d moved with the speed of an adder and looked barely less dangerous, ready to strike in her defense. Esyllt realized then that, no matter what he had subjected her to since his arrival, he’d always spared her from the worst of his temper. It was a welcome revelation. Even when he'd discovered her supposed wantonness or thought she’d been out to kill him, he had not spoken to her with half as much venom as he had just spoken to Gruffydd.
The Welshman, predictably, was beside himself with fury at being upbraided in front of his men. “But, she’s a woman!”
“Thank you, yes, I had noticed. In the future there will be no need to point out the obvious to me. It will save us a lot of precious time.” He glared at Gruffydd. “When you are ready, you can apologize to her. She is still waiting. If I have to remind you again, I will do so with the tip of my sword.”
There was a pause. Then the older man surrendered.
“Forgive me, Es—Lady Sheridan. Please join us in the discussion.”
Esyllt raised her head and afforded a gracious smile. “I will, thank you.”
All together, they proceeded to the solar.
As he listened to Esyllt’s report on what had transpired since her husband’s death, Connor understood that his wife was as astute a negotiator and clever an administrator as he had hoped. He’d already had chance to see that the castle was running smoothly. By all accounts, everything that needed to be repaired had been repaired, the stockrooms were full, the tenants were happy and well-fed and his wife was aware of all that was happening on the domain, from the state of the portcullis to the due date of the cook’s daughter’s baby. It was an impressive achievement, especially in these troubled times. But even if she had not been so knowledgeable, he would have preferred to deal with her anyway. She was much more pleasant than gnarled old Gruffydd—and much easier on the eye.
