The Countess Bride

And that was one more thing he loved about her.

The thought roared through his mind. A dizzying blindness struck him for a moment and he reeled with the strength and clarity of his thoughts. He did love Catherine.

“Are you unwell, also?” the duchess asked, tapping him on the shoulder. “Mayhap the beef was bad?”

Geoff shook himself and looked around at those standing near the still-prostrate Lady Melissande. “Nay, I am well. Just concerned about the well-being of our guest.”

He heard his sister-by-marriage calling out for more room, and he stepped back with the others. Although he could be cool and clearheaded in battle, a fainting or crying woman unmanned him. Let the countess handle things. And she did so, for a moment later Emalie and Melissande were standing.

“I fear my stomach was so nervous I did not eat today,” Melissande whispered in a soft voice.

“And the exertion of that particular dance was too much for Lady Melissande. Some food and rest and she will be well.”

Emalie patted the girl’s hand and released Melissande to her own mother’s ministrations. The duchess did not look pleased that her daughter would now be removed from the center of attention.

Geoffrey tried to ease the situation, for he feared some retribution would be directed at the girl for her actions here. If the duke and duchess had come all this way, they wanted a match between Melissande and him. If the girl failed to gain his favor, she could pay for it, if her parents were of that ilk.

“My lady?” He smiled and waited for Melissande to face him. “Would you join me to break our fast in the morn? And I promise no dancing at that hour!”

’Twas the right thing to say, for the frown on the duchess’s brow lifted and Melissande offered a tremulous smile at his invitation. He could not promise her that she would be his choice, but at least she would be given a fair chance to make her case before him.

Melissande dipped into a curtsy before the group and nodded. “My lord, I would be most pleased to join you.”

“Until the morn, then.” Geoffrey nodded and watched as the lady, her parents and various attendants left the room. He sensed Christian and Emalie beside him and waited for their comments.

“Too frightened for my tastes,” his brother whispered.

“But nice enough,” Emalie added.

“Let’s see what the morning brings,” Geoff suggested. “Now then, my lady. Do you have another virgin to sacrifice to me before the festivities end this night?”

If she was feeling insulted, the slight tugging at the corners of her mouth that threatened to turn into a smile gave away her amusement.

“Come, Geoffrey. Let us introduce you to the lady Marguerite. Her father is a mere baron, but of sufficient standing and property as to not insult your future dignity, or your pompous brother’s.”

Christian let out a snort and Geoffrey fought not to join him. Emalie had complained about Christian’s arrogance from the time they met, and it was obvious to him that that particular battle still wore on.

“Lead on, my lady. Let us not waste the time we have.”

Chapter Three

Moonlight streamed in through the small window high in the alcove’s wall and made it seem like day. This small refuge between the back stairs and the kitchen was largely ignored by most, but Catherine favored it when she needed a few moments alone in the castle during a busy day. And this was the place where she and Geoffrey would meet and compare their adventures when they both visited Greystone—his of one kind and hers of another.

She would have to accommodate herself to the idea that they would be even more different once this week ended. She would go on to her new life, alone, and he would go to his, with a wife in tow. Catherine sighed. She wanted too many things she could not have. Too many things that she was not entitled to. A man who could never be hers.

Looking up at the rays of light and the specks of dust that danced within them, Catherine allowed herself to dream of dancing with Geoffrey, as the first two of his prospective wives had. As she’d watched from the hallway, he had led them in the steps of two dances that she knew but had never been invited to do. He had grown so much since she’d seen him—taller, his blond hair longer and his shoulders broadened by muscles not there before. Where once was the promise of attractiveness, now there was a wildly handsome, noble warrior. As if conjured by her thoughts, she turned to find him staring at her.

“Geoffrey.”

“Catherine.”

She stared back at him, separated by several feet of air, and marveled at the changes in him. She wasn’t certain who took the first step but she suddenly found herself wrapped in his arms. Tears burned her eyes and throat, as his arms held her so close that it made taking a breath difficult. Her own arms found their way around his waist and she prayed that he would never let her go.

How long they remained in that embrace, she knew not, but the cold air of reality began to seep into her soul. Catherine understood that nothing more could be between them than this holding and she relished it for the brief lapse of judgment it was. One that would not be repeated.

Removing her hands from his back, she took in a deeper breath and let it out. He must have sensed her withdrawal, for Geoffrey released his hold on her and let her go. Now, a small distance separated them and she finally regained control of herself.

“My lord, you look well,” she said with as much calm as she could manage.

“‘My lord’ is it now? And I thought we were friends.” His voice had deepened, too. Its mellow resonance struck something within her and stirred feelings better left untouched.

“Someone needs to be aware of your titles, my lord. Who better than a friend?”

“Please,” he said, taking her hand in his. “There will time enough for formality and distance. For now, for these brief moments away from all of that, can we not simply be Geoff and Cate?”

He knew. He knew that whatever they shared would be over by the end of his visit. Her heart lurched with the pain of it, but she vowed not to let him know how sad she was about it.

“Of course. Sit, Geoff, and tell me of your journey here. Was it a smooth crossing?” Catherine loosened her hand from his, stepped aside and let him sit down on the stone bench in the alcove. They would have shared the bench for their talks in the past, but now there was no room for her next to him.

“’Twas a good journey, though accomplished with some trepidation about the destination.”

“You worried about coming here?”

“Well, it would be nearer the truth to say that Emalie’s plans made me worry.” He paused and smiled at her. “She is more devious than my brother.”

“They want only the best for you, Geoff.” She almost reached out to touch his shoulder, but stopped herself. They needed to rebuild the distance between them, now that it had been challenged.

“Cate, I do know that or I would have pulled up the drawbridge at Château d’Azure and never left it.”

The image of him doing that, closing himself in his castle and not coming out, reminded her of the boy she’d met on her first visit to Harbridge. Or mayhap that was her on her first visit here from the convent? The worldly estate where life pulsed so fully had terrified her and she had been tempted to never return. It had been only the gentle requests of the lord’s brother that had convinced her to come back.

“But, my l… Geoff, when did you ever resist a challenge?”

He moved to one side of the stone seat and beckoned her to sit. She thought to refuse, but that part of her that knew it was over between them could not. Gathering her skirts close, she slid against the wall, seeking to press against it and not him.

“Everything changes with this visit, Cate. My life, my duties. I step into the larger stage of the world when I marry and accept the titles I am destined to receive. I have no misunderstandings of the importance of the lands I will hold on the Continent,” he said. He leaned his head back and let out a deep grumble of frustration. “Langier lands stand between those who would rule all of France and England, and I do not know if I am equal to the task of holding them and managing them.”

He had given her his deepest secret. He showed his manly bravado and outgoing nature to the world, even to his brother, but he had gifted her with his innermost fear. She must give him something in return.

“You have listened well to your brother and his lessons of administration?”

He nodded.

“And you have surrounded yourself with wise men to counsel you?”

He nodded again.

“And you plan on using the wits and intelligence that God gave you, and not acting like a witless fool?” Those words gained a smile and eased the frown on his brow.

“Then I am certain that you will be successful in keeping the trust your brother places in you. The earl does not give it easily and would never take this step if he did not believe you were ready.” Geoffrey laughed then. “’Tis amusing?”

“’Twould seem you know my brother well, for those were nearly the same words he used to me.”

“I am gladdened that you have shared your fears with him and that he has tried to reassure you of your nature and your abilities.” She chose her words carefully, so as to not let her true feelings for the earl show. Apparently, she did not do it as well as she hoped.

Geoffrey reached over and took her hand once more, entwining his fingers with hers this time. “I know not what is at the base of this dislike you have for him and he has for you, but I am touched that you both go to such lengths to disguise it and keep it hidden when I am here.”

Catherine could not find words at that moment, for this seemed to be a time of sharing truths, and there were none that she could share with him. At least none that would not make this more difficult than it already was.

He stood, drawing her up at his side, not releasing her hand. With his other hand, he reached up and brushed away to loose wisps of hair that always seemed to be separated from her orderly braid. Her breath caught and she could feel the heat in her skin where his fingers had touched.

“You should retire, for it is late and I know that you will be kept busy with the countess tomorrow.”

“Aye. She tires easily now and I am glad to give her whatever assistance I can.”

“Would you give me aid, as well?”

“Anything, Geoff. But what could I do for you?”

He paused as though trying to frame his request. Was it something dishonorable? Of course it could not be! Something dangerous? He would not put her in danger.

“Would you give me your counsel about the women who are to be considered for marriage?”

Would she help him to choose his wife? Pain, like the thrust of a dagger, pierced her heart, leaving her without breath. Could she help him choose the woman who would bear his name and his children and possibly his love? The woman who would live with him and be his countess? It could never be her, but could she help him pick who it would be?

“You ask much of me, Geoff.”

“I can only ask it of a friend, Cate. Someone who I trust with my life.” He lifted her chin so she could not escape his dark gaze. “I know it is not fair to ask you, but I do so all the same.”

“I will,” she said, knowing the impossible task she set for herself.

She wanted to untangle their fingers and leave quickly, but still he did not release her. As his head tilted down, she feared and prayed for the same thing. His lips touched hers with a gentleness that broke her heart again. Their warmth had barely been shared when he pulled away.

“Promise not to leave without a farewell when this is done.”

Had he read her thoughts? Saying goodbye would tear her to pieces. She shook her head, not certain if it was in agreement or denial of his request.

“Promise me,” he insisted.

“I promise,” she said.

A noise in the corridor caused them to step away from each other. Was someone there? She heard nothing more, but it roused her from the confusion she felt and made her realize that their behavior was inappropriate at best.

“My lord, I bid you a good evening.” Cate curtsied before him.

“’Till the morrow, Catherine.” Geoff replied with a polite bow. He winked at her as he turned to leave. He was the same as always.

With the moonlight pouring over her, she’d looked like an angel. Geoff caught her unaware as she’d stood staring up in the bright moonlight. Surely she had not changed in appearance or demeanor in the months since their last visit? Ah, he realized, he was the one who had changed and now looked at this place and its people differently.

In the last year, he had fought and won his first tournament, met the nobles who ruled those lands adjoining his and had even been introduced to the royal family of France. And he had known grave disappointment as the reality of his duties to his inheritance forced the truth on him—he would not marry the woman he wanted when he inherited.

Catherine, a distant cousin of Emalie’s, orphaned and with but a small dowry, might be acceptable as a bride for Geoffrey Dumont, the younger brother of the Earl of Harbridge who had no aspirations of titles or lands, but she would never be acceptable as the bride of the Comte de Langier. Without family connections, titles, wealth or lands, Catherine could never be his. And he would never ask her to lower herself in any other way, to be his without the blessing of marriage.

No matter how much he wanted her. No matter how much he loved her. And not even knowing for a certainty in his soul that she loved him.

So why did he carry out this folly and ask her to help him choose a bride? Why cause them both the pain he knew would result?

He simply could not let her go yet. He needed to share whatever time he could steal with her before he left to take his wife home to Poitou. It would be better this way. Love had little place in a modern marriage and so he would remember his first love and know not to expect more than the affection from a spouse who understood their relationship as he did. Even as he let the thoughts free, he knew them for the sham they were.

He would not lie to himself—he would keep company with Catherine when he could and would use the task she’d agreed to in order to keep her near until the last possible moment. Then they would part. If it were to be difficult in this next week, then so be it. He would be with Cate and that would make it worth the pain.

Geoff strode through the great hall and made his way to his chambers.

“They are in love.”

“It has no bearing on what is to come.”

Emalie sighed. How could her husband be so obstinate, even after their own trials? Turning to face him in the shadows where they stood, she thought of how best to approach this problem.

“Love means nothing to you?” Sometimes she needed to prod him out of his arrogance and into realizing the value of the intangibles that surrounded him. ’Twas ever his failing.

“Your love has meant everything to me and you know it. But as we found it after we married, so will Geoffrey. If he accepts our guidance in the matter of a wife and chooses well, love will come.” Christian held out his arm to her and she placed her hand on it.

She sighed again. How could such intelligent and powerful men be such fools? She had seen this coming almost from the first time Catherine had visited from the convent and met Geoffrey. Soul mates. Two halves of the same soul that were meant to be joined together. How could her husband not see that?

“You are too quiet. That does not bode well for me, wife.”

“She was a victim as well, Christian. Do you hold her accountable for his sins, too?”

“She has no family….” he said. Emalie thought to correct him, but his growing anger was apparent. “She has no family, no wealth and no titles. She is not suitable to marry my brother.”

Emalie began to answer him, but Christian drew to a stop and pointed at her. “Do not think to meddle or gainsay me in this, wife. I have my limits.”

She looked away and let him lead her to their chambers without further argument. She knew he thought he had won this one, but she would have the last word. Catherine had suffered much and did not deserve to be held in dishonor because of her brother’s actions. Even if those actions had been against Emalie’s own person.

Emalie stopped at the door to her room and blocked her husband from following her into her sleeping chamber. His puzzlement was clear and she was glad. Mayhap it would make him think about his unkind attitude and words.

“Even after three years and countless steps forward, you are still a prig.”

She slammed the door closed and forced herself not to laugh at the astonished look on his face as she did so.

Chapter Four

Melissande.

Marguerite.

Mathilde.

Maude.

Melissande, Marguerite, Mathilde and Maude. The names did not bode well for him, for he had to always struggle to remember them. Now he was saddled with meeting strangers and trying to keep their names and faces in his memory.

Had his sister-by-marriage forgotten the lessons she’d learned about the letters of the alphabet? Even he knew that there were more letters than simply M and certainly women whose names did not begin so. Apparently, the only suitable women who had been invited to Greystone were those whose names began with an M.

“No, my lord Geoffrey, I did not limit my search for suitable wives to women whose names began thus. ’Twould only seem so.”

Surprised that he’d said the words aloud, he noticed the mischievous grin that teased the corners of Emalie’s mouth. Seeing the matching glint in her eye, he was not convinced that it was unintentional. For confusion? For levity? Her reasons he knew not, but they were there somewhere.

“You mentioned six prospective wives. Two seem to be missing.”

Although Emalie’s lips tightened at his comment, his brother’s snort of amusement was loud enough to be heard by those below table, as well as those at it.

“The ladies Petronilla and Phillippa are late risers, my lord. They tend to like the activities of the afternoon and evening far more than those in the morn.”

Ah. Well, four were easier to manage than six, so Geoffrey would use this early time to meet the two who were not present at the meal and dancing last eve, before meeting the others, the P ladies, later in the day.

“Emalie,” he whispered to her after realizing she used the title not yet known by those here. “I thought we’d decided that I was simply a knight for now?”

“’Twould seem, brother, that word of our bargain with Richard has escaped, in spite of our best efforts.” Christian looked neither pleased nor displeased by this lapse.

Gazing around the tables, Geoffrey now understood why there was so much wealth and beauty on display. As much as he hunted a bride, their families hunted him.

“So, I am worthwhile now that they know I am a marquis?”

Christian snickered and leaned across Emalie to answer. “And worth far more when you inherit the title of Comte de Langier and become the sole owner of the lands that lie between Anjou, Poitou and Aquitaine.”

“Do not spare me, brother. Why are they truly here?” Geoff gnashed his teeth at his change in status. Not now. He wanted time without the pressure of his true title being known.

Christian threw him a look that confirmed his suspicions—he was more valuable than any of the women to be considered. Their fathers wanted him for the lands and titles he would have upon his investiture, and the connections to the Plantagenet crown and the proximity to the French one.

“The hunter has become the prey, I fear, brother,” Christian answered. “All of my hopes to accomplish this before your inheritance was known are for naught.”

“Has anyone asked outright?”

“Nay, no one yet, although many hints have been dropped in initial discussions.”

Geoffrey broke off another chunk of cheese and chewed it. Leaning back as he washed the food down with some ale, he considered his choices. He could ignore the inevitable gossip or he could have Christian make the announcement of the terms of Richard’s agreement with the Dumont family. The news would be known as soon as negotiations began in earnest with the family of whomever he chose, so mayhap disclosure was best now. Subterfuge made him uncomfortable, a failing that Christian warned him about.

“My apologies, Geoff. I knew that word was out as soon as the rest of them gathered together in the hall this morn. Their visits and times of introduction were to be spread out over several days, not made into a marriage market like this.”

He nodded as his brother continued. “But none would allow another an advantage in showing off his daughter to you unchallenged. So, here they are.”

The speculation in the gazes that met his told the story. Those assembled wanted or needed him more than they wanted to hold on to their daughter or the wealth they would need to give away in the bargain.

A marriage to Melissande of Quercy would produce a united border with the south and west of France and make the duke more valuable to Philip Augustus. Marguerite of Brittany would strengthen the Plantagenet hold on that area and stem the tide of support for the French king. The count from Navarre would gain a foothold deep in the Plantagenet provinces and secure his borders with Gascony. The marquis who held lands near Orleans and owed fealty for those lands directly to the king of France would gain esteem for capturing a favorite of King Richard’s as his son-by-marriage. Marriage to either of the English heiresses would put more of England and Wales under Richard’s vassals’ control.

The watchful gazes and intense scrutiny made Geoff feel very much the prey here. Christian cleared his throat, gaining the attention of all in the room. He stood and spoke to them.

“On behalf of my brother, I thank you for answering our invitation. My family and I are honored by your presence and pleased that you could be here to meet with him. The countess and I have planned some entertainments for you all and I hope that your stay is comfortable and…” Christian paused and then acknowledged the real reason for this debacle. “May it result in a marriage and a joining of families.”

Geoffrey forced a smile to his face and nodded at the polite applause that greeted his brother’s words. From the undisguised greed on several faces, he guessed some of the visitors were already planning ways to ensure that their daughter was chosen. The only one wearing an undecipherable mask was the Baron of Evesham, whose friendship with Prince John was known. Geoff watched as the baron’s piercing gaze rested on each of the young women under consideration and then flicked back to the empty seat at his side, empty due to the absence of his daughter.

Geoffrey’s observations were interrupted by his brother’s announcement. “The stable master informs me that the horses are at the ready for our hunt. Come.”

Geoff joined Christian and the other noblemen and made his way to the stable yard. They would hunt with dogs this day, but he knew that Emalie enjoyed using the hawks and would plan a hunt for men and women using those. Soon, amid the barking and yelling and dust and men in the yard, he lost all thoughts of a bride and faced the challenges of a hunt.

Catherine sat at the longest of the tables near the kitchen hearth, finishing a bowl of steaming porridge. With most of the men leaving for the hunt for much of the day, she would have a chance to complete some arrangements. Supplies of food and wine and ale would travel with them so they could eat in the forest rather than coming back for the noon meal. The fruits of their labors would grace the table tonight. Catherine stood when Emalie approached.

“Nay, Catherine. Sit and finish your meal.”