in lieu of actions. Guyon stepped quickly between his son and son-by-marriage and the ‘guest’ before a situation too volatile to be contained developed. The laws of hospitality might be inconvenient, but they were also sacred. ‘Only a fool brings a beast like that among company,’ he said, each word soft but distinct with scorn. ‘It is too much to expect your apology, I know, but that you should try to turn the blame around astounds me beyond contempt!’
De Gernons looked around the circle of accusing, hostile eyes, at hands that hovered above dagger grips, leashed by custom but straining to break free. He hawked and spat, and without another word pushed past Guyon, roughly nudging his shoulder, did the same to Renard, and stalked out. They heard him yelling for his horse to be brought.
‘Like dog, like owner,’ Renard muttered.
Guyon grimaced. ‘We have just made a powerful enemy, and one who will harbour a grudge beyond all reason.’
‘Who wants him for a friend?’ Judith said acidly as she bathed the slash on her youngest son’s hand with wine. William tugged away from her, anxious to see to his wounded dog.
‘That depends on how matters develop at court,’ Guyon said bleakly. ‘Adam, are you all right?’
‘Bruised,’ Adam said with a brief nod and watched the servants dragging the mastiff’s body away. ‘Thank Christ it’s nothing more serious. I thought I wasn’t going to reach Miles in time.’ He kissed his son’s cheek and hugged him close for an instant before handing him, fretting, to Heulwen. A mutual look passed over the baby’s head, but for now there was no opportunity to explore it further.
One of the women handed Adam a cup of sweetened wine.
Guyon shook his head. ‘He didn’t find out what he wanted to know.’
‘I think,’ Adam contradicted over the rim of his cup, ‘that he found out more than he bargained for — and so did we.’
The night was as still as a prayer. Heulwen’s gilded shoes whispered softly over the grass of the deserted plesaunce. In the pond a fish plopped ponderously. Moths blundered among the flowers. A bat was outlined briefly against the green-streaked sky. She looked down at her hand linked in Adam’s as they stopped beside the pond. The water near their feet boiled as a frog dived in panic.
Adam pulled her against his side and squeezed her waist, lightly palming the curve of her hip. ‘You were right this afternoon,’ he said, staring out over the dark, glassy water. ‘Sometimes I have found it very difficult indeed.’
‘Adam…’ She half turned, meaning to say that she did not need an explanation, but he took the hand she meant to lay against his mouth and held it prisoner.
‘I suppose I should thank de Gernons,’ he said. ‘Until I thought that hell-hound of his was going to kill Miles, I didn’t realise what he meant to me.’
‘He is yours, Adam.’ She laid her hand on his sleeve. ‘I wasn’t just saying it this afternoon.’
His smile was ghostly, like the last of the light. ‘Well, that’s a welcome blessing along the way, but it won’t alter the depth of my feeling for him — enrich it, perhaps.’ He dipped his head and kissed her. She responded, arms tightly around his neck.
‘Lie with me?’ he said between kisses.
Surprised, she looked up at him. His eyes were as dark as the glitter of the pond beside them. ‘Here? Now?’
He was unpinning her cloak and his and spreading them on the summer-scented grass. ‘Can you think of a better place? The keep’s crowded.’
Her breathing caught. A delightful warmth contracted her loins and she returned to his arms.
The horizon was dark and the moon had risen, a fat white crescent silvering sky and land. Adam stretched lazily, and sitting up, reached for his shirt.
Heulwen sighed and extended a languorous forefinger to run it down the knobbled ridge of his spine, smiling to feel him quiver. ‘I suppose,’ she said regretfully, ‘that Miles will be roaring to be fed, and Elswith will come seeking me before he rouses the whole keep.’
Adam laughed at the thought of the maid’s face should she seek them here and find them like this.
Heulwen sat up beside him, her unbraided hair tumbling down, and pressed her lips to his shoulder. ‘Adam, can we go home tomorrow?’ She helped him tug his shirt down.
‘I don’t see why not.’ He turned his head to kiss her, and continued dressing. ‘Any particular reason?’
‘Not really.’ She began shrugging into her own clothes. ‘I’d like to see our own plesaunce finished before the summer’s end.’ There was a sudden hint of mischievous laughter in her voice.
‘It would be more convenient than visiting Ravenstow every time,’ he agreed.
She nudged him with her foot in retaliation, then sobered. ‘I want to dedicate a chapel too, for my grandfather’s soul…if you are willing?’
Adam stood up and said quietly, ‘How could I not be willing? We owe him more than we can ever repay. Of course you can have a chapel.’
‘Thank you.’ She kissed him warmly.
He donned his cloak and then swung hers around her shoulders. The moonlight caught the wolf brooch into a brilliant, white glitter.
‘No more tail-chasing?’ she said as he fastened it.
‘No more tail-chasing,’ he agreed, and smiling, turned with her towards the keep.
