vastly mistaken in both beliefs.
Madelyne was far more stubborn than he had thought. It was the only excuse he could find to explain the blatant way she disregarded his position.
Duncan hated changes. In the back of his mind he thought Madelyne knew it. She gave him innocent looks when he demanded she cease her constant meddling and then blithely went on her way to change something else.
Oh, his pretty wife was still timid enough around him. At least she gave the appearance that she was. She blushed quite easily. Duncan only had to give her a good long stare to get her immediate reaction. He puzzled over it, yet didn't question her about her obvious embarrassment. But when he was not paying attention, she did anything she pleased.
The changes Madelyne instituted weren't even subtle. Most impressive and the least to complain about was the radical change in his hall. Without gaining permission, Madelyne had ordered the wobbly platform removed. The old scarred table was carried down to the soldiers' keep, and a new, unblemished, smaller table was built by a carpenter Madelyne had commissioned, again without asking his permission.
Madelyne drove the servants ragged over what they referred to as her cleaning fits. The servants probably thought Madelyne was demented, though none would openly declare such in front of their lord. Yet Duncan also noticed how each hurried to comply with Madelyne's orders, as though pleasing his mistress was a treasured goal. The floors had been scrubbed, the walls stained and decorated. New rushes, smelling suspiciously like roses, lined the floor. A gigantic banner, primarily the color of royal blue, with white stitching of Duncan 's impressive crest, hung above the hearth now, and Madelyne had placed two tall-backed chairs right in front of the fireplace. The room mimicked the tower room in some ways. Madelyne had reduced the size of the hall by making several small sitting areas. Why anyone would want to sit in the hall was beyond Duncan 's comprehension. Even though it looked inviting, the hall was just a place to eat a meal, and perhaps to stand before the roaring fire for a few minutes to gain warmth. No one was supposed to linger there. Yet his wife didn't seem capable of comprehending that simple fact and transformed his hall into a room that beckoned laziness.
Duncan also noticed that the soldiers made certain their boots were clean before walking into the hall. He didn't know if that pleased him or not. Why, even his men were bending to Madelyne's silent dictates.
The dogs had proven to be Madelyne's greatest challenge. She kept dragging them downstairs. The dogs kept coming back. Madelyne had gotten around that problem too. Once she had established which animal was the leader of the pack, she wooed him down the stairs by dangling a piece of mutton in front of his face to gain his compliance. She then had him barred from the stairwell until the pattern of feeding downstairs was firmly established.
No one threw their discarded bones over their shoulders anymore either. Gilard told Duncan how Madelyne stood at the head of the table and sweetly explained they were all going to eat like civilized men or not eat at all. The men didn't complain. They seemed as eager as the servants to please Madelyne.
Aye, she was more tigress than kitten now. If she thought any of the servants were being the least disrespectful to any Wexton, she lectured them into humiliation.
Now that he thought about it, Duncan realized she lectured him too. His wife was a little more subdued with him but she still spoke her mind often enough.
She constantly challenged his opinions. Duncan remembered an incident that had taken place the day before, when Madelyne was listening to a conversation he was having with Gilard about King William and his brothers, Robert and Henry. As soon as Gilard left the hall, Madelyne told Duncan she was worried about the king's brothers. She said in a voice that reeked with authority that neither brother had been given sufficient responsibility. In her mind, since the two men were so unappreciated, both would certainly become discontent and cause problems for their king.
She hadn't known what she was talking about, of course. How could a woman understand politics? Duncan had patiently taken time to point out to her that the oldest brother. Robert, had been given Normandy, for God's sake, a far greater treasure than England, and had already shown his lack of responsibility by bonding the land to his brother for enough coins to go crusading.
Madelyne ignored his logical argument, insisting that he himself acted just like King William because he kept his own brothers under his wing and wouldn't allow either of them to make any decisions. She was lecturing him then, explaining her worry that both Edmond and Gilard would soon feel as restless as the king's two brothers.
Duncan had finally grabbed her and kissed her. It was the only way he could find to take her mind off the subject. It was also a very satisfying method.
Duncan told himself at least ten times a day that he couldn't be bothered with the mundane problems of his household. He had greater, far more important work to do. Aye, it was his duty to turn ordinary men into mighty warriors.
For that reason he tried to maintain a distance from his brothers, his sister, and most especially, his stubborn, undisciplined wife.
Yet while he could remove himself from the workings of his household, he couldn't seem to separate himself from the problem of Madelyne. He was too busy protecting her. In truth, all his men took a turn saving Madelyne's life. She never offered a word of appreciation to any of them, yet Duncan knew it wasn't because his wife was a discourteous woman. Nay, the truth was far worse. Madelyne simply didn't realize how her own impulsiveness put her into constant jeopardy.
Madelyne was in such a hurry to get to the stables one afternoon, she ran right in front of a line of soldiers practicing with their bows and arrows. An arrow just missed the back of her head. The poor soldier who had shot the arrow immediately fell to his knees. He couldn't find his target the rest of the day, thanks to his brief encounter with Duncan 's wife. Madelyne hadn't even realized the danger. She had hurried on, oblivious to the chaos she had created. The incidents involving near tragedy were too many for Duncan to recount. He was fast approaching the point where he dreaded the evening report given to him by Anthony. His faithful vassal looked haggard from his duty. Though he never complained. Duncan was certain the vassal would have preferred a good battle to the death instead of trailing behind his leader's wife.
It had taken him time, but Duncan finally understood why Madelyne had become so carefree, so uninhibited. It was such a simple reason too. And it pleased him immensely. Madelyne felt safe. When the fever ruled her mind, Duncan had learned all about her childhood. She was a quiet child who tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. Madelyne's mother had sheltered her daughter from her father and her brother, but the two years Madelyne lived alone with Louddon after her mother's death had been cruel, painful years indeed. Madelyne had quickly learned not to laugh or to cry, or show spirit or anger, for to do so would have drawn attention to herself.
Though the years she spent with her uncle Berton were blessed years, Duncan doubted Madelyne acted like a normal little girl even then. Living with a priest would have taught her additional restraint. Duncan didn't believe she'd been mischievous when she had to answer to a fragile old man who probably depended on her more than she depended on him.
Madelyne had learned control from her uncle. Duncan knew the priest was trying only to help Madelyne survive. The uncle taught her how to hide her emotions from her brother, assuming she'd be returning to him soon. Neither Madelyne nor her uncle expected the visit to stretch into years. For that reason Madelyne lived in constant fear that Louddon would appear on her uncle's doorstep at any moment and take her back home.
With fear came caution. Now that Madelyne felt safe, she let go of all restraint.
Duncan understood Madelyne better than she understood herself. She appeared clumsy, but the simple truth was that she was in such a hurry to catch up with life, to savor each experience, she didn't have time for caution. That duty fell to her husband. Madelyne was like a young filly just testing her legs. She was a joy to watch, a nightmare to protect.
What Duncan didn't understand was his own feelings for his wife. He'd gone to Louddon's fortress to take Madelyne captive. His plan was revenge; an eye for an eye. And that had been reason enough.
Until she'd warmed his feet.
Everything had changed at that moment. Duncan had known with a certainty he couldn't deny that they were henceforth bound together. He could never let her go.
And then he'd married her.
The following morning, Louddon's army left Wexton land.
Each day Duncan would find a new reason for having made his impractical decision to marry her. Aye, he wanted to use his most logical mind to give reason to the feelings inside his heart.
