Page 32 of The Thornwyck Rose

She wrapped her arm around him and kissed his hair. “Yes, and I, to my room. But until then . . . the garden is ours.”

Isolde sighed softly behind her, already gathering David’s shawl and Margot’s basket.

Baldwin pushed off from the wall without a word, but his nod toward her was all the agreement she needed from him.

But she peered at the priest.

Father Osbert lit another candle at the altar. His back was turned—but Seren felt his listening.

Did he agree with her? What did he tell Lord Henry that day at the grave? What would he tell him about her behavior today?

She glanced down at the two boys and thought,We shall go to the garden, while the sun still touches us. While we still remember how to breathe free.

XIV

THE FIRST INSINUATION

THORNWYCK KEEP, DECEMBER 1086

The keep was quieterafter midnight, but not silent. Thornwyck never slept; it only held its breath until the next terrible order was given. It had been nine months since Lord David’s birth, and Erik hadn’t spoken with Seren since, though every time he saw her, he wished he could tell her he was truly indebted to her for taking his son under her wing.

Ragnar spoke too fondly of her. Erik had thought of her too often. He told himself to stop, but he had made a place for her in his heart. He wouldn’t allow himself to cut her out.

Erik climbed the final steps to the middle level of the keep and walked the corridor to the council chamber, where Lord Henry had summoned him. The guards outside looked uneasy. That was the first warning. The second came with the smell—wine, heavy and spoiled, leaking through a crack in the door. Erik let out a long, low exhale. He glanced at a guard who gave him no indication of what to expect.

“Enter,” Henry barked.

Erik stepped inside.

The council chamber was lit by only two candles, pools of wax bleeding down their sides. Papers were scattered across the table, a goblet overturned near Henry’s elbow. The lord slouched in his chair, one hand holding another goblet, theother tracing the rim of his dagger against the table edge in a steady, grating rhythm. It was his father’s dagger, one Henry brandished when he was angry and meant for someone to die in his wrath.

“Commander Payen de Montfort,” Henry said, slurred and smug. His tone was measured, but his eyes were unfocused. “You return from the border campaign victorious, I hear. I was unable to attend your homecoming as I was withmywife.”

Erik bowed slightly, wondering what prompted the lord’s late-night call. “As you commanded, my lord. The Danes withdrew from Norfolk’s borders; they never came ashore. I understand your absence. Your matters with Lady de Thornwyck are more important than the word of yet another campaign victory.”

“Ah,” Henry murmured, leaning back. “Always as I command, isn’t it, Payen de Montfort. Always loyal.” He lifted the goblet, found it empty, and chuckled.

He tossed the cup aside. Its reverberating clang bounced from wall to wall. “Tell me, de Montfort—loyalty—how far does it stretch for you?”

Erik stayed still. He knew better than to answer a question that wasn’t really one. He needed to gather as much information as possible before speaking.

Henry’s gaze slid toward the hearth. “Lady de Thornwyck has been spending her prayers in the chapel with my son,” he said. “Andyourboy . . . Isn’t that strange?”

The word “your” dragged like a threat.

Erik’s throat tightened. “Lady de Thornwyck prays daily for your house’s fortune, my lord. My boy—Ragnar—sometimes reads the Psalter nearby with Father Osbert. You granted such permission. She likely saw him and took pity. He tells me he is a quiet company for Lord David.”

Henry laughed again, this time with a sinister undertone. “Quiet company? For whose benefit, I wonder?” His eyes lifted, sharp now, cold and bright. “Tell me, Commander, did you send her there? To soften her toward you? Toward your boy?”

“No, my lord.”

Henry’s head tilted. “No?”

“I did not ask her to go,” Erik said evenly, steering the conversation away from why Henry held him as his most trusted aide unless he had to mention it.

“Why should I believe you? You liar! I heard you like sniffing flowers with her in the garden.”

Erik forced himself to remain calm—he took a nonchalant approach as if he was just doing his duty. “She said she needed fresh air. Lord David had been restless in the womb. I knew you did not want her to be without an escort, so I escorted her for a few moments to the garden.”