ridden to the church ahead of her, accompanied by all of his men in a grand procession that had impressed the villagers.
He was good at that sort of thing, she reflected. He knew how to make his presence felt. Gareth could alarm or intimidate or amaze at will. He was adept at the extravagant, very calculated gesture when it suited him.
In spite of the chill in the air, Clare's palms grew damp on the palfrey's reins. She met Gareth's solemn, watchful gaze and prayed that she had done the right thing when she had chosen him as lord of Desire.
Her future and the future of her people hung in the balance.
Gareth did not take his eyes off her as she rode forward to meet him.
When she brought the palfrey to a halt, he dismounted and walked toward her.
His massive hands were strong and sure around her waist as he lifted Clare down from the saddle. Without a word he led her to the church door, where the priest waited.
Clare took a deep breath and prepared to say the vows that would forever link her fortunes and the fortunes of Desire with those of the Hellhound.
An hour later, in front of the large crowd that had assembled in the great hall, Ulrich opened a massive chest. He lifted out the contents with an air of solemn ceremony. A shimmering rainbow of silks spilled from his hands.
The throng gasped appreciatively.
'My lord's gifts to his esteemed bride,' Ulrich announced in ringing tones.
One by one he held aloft long, lustrous lengths of rich fabric from the East. Bolts of crimson silk shot through with gold and silver threads were unwrapped and displayed.
Lengths of green silk as dark in hue as precious emeralds appeared.
Yellows and oranges the shade of brilliant sunsets streamed forth from the chest. The variety and colors of the exquisite materials seemed unending.
The villagers roundly cheered their approval as they inspected the Hellhound's costly bride gifts.
Everyone was duly impressed. The oohs and aahs cascaded through the hall. Neighbor murmured to neighbor in tones of deep satisfaction. It was clear to one and all that their lady had chosen a wealthy lord.
And apparently a generous one.
The silks were followed by casks of valuable spices. Saffron, cloves, nutmeg, cinnamon, ginger, cumin, and pepper were presented. Again the crowd roared its appreciation of the respect their new lord was showing to their beloved lady.
Clare listened to the comments of her people. They were well pleased.
The villagers knew that their lord's wealth reflected directly on the entire Isle of Desire. The inhabitants would be bathed in the glow of his prestige and power.
On a more practical level, Gareth's personal wealth was insurance that people would continue to prosper under his governance.
'A bastard born, yet he has won great riches for himself by his own hand,' John Blacksmith said to a farmer. 'Tis a good sign.'
'Aye.' The farmer bobbed his head sagely. 'He'll take good care of these lands. Lady Clare chose well.'
John chuckled. ' Tis not clear who did the choosing. If you ask me, Lord Gareth took a hand in making her decision for her.'
Clare wrinkled her nose, but she gave no other indication that she had overheard the remark. She was not entirely certain she could refute it.
When Gareth's gifts to his bride had all been properly displayed and suitably admired, yet another chest was brought forward. New murmurs of excitement rippled through the crowd. When the second chest was opened, a great pile of coins was revealed.
The cries of wonder turned to whoops of delight when it became clear that the coins were to be handed out to the villagers.
'Your husband, it would seem, does not come to this marriage a pauper,'
Prioress Margaret observed quietly. She stood next to Clare and watched as Gareth's men handed out a coin to everyone in the manor.
'Aye, he brings the wealth he earned as the Hellhound of Wyckmere,'
Clare said. 'And he does not mind displaying it, does he?'
'A great lord must display his wealth and power. How else will people know of it?'
Clare sighed. 'He had money enough before he married me. But he did not have lands.'
'Now he has those, too.' Margaret looked at her. 'Are you content with this marriage, my daughter?'
' 'Tis done,' Clare said quietly. 'There is no point in debating the matter now.'
' Tis not quite done. There is still the business of your wedding night.'
'As to that, I assure you I have everything in hand.'
Margaret cleared her throat. 'There is gossip that you lost your temper with your new lord yesterday morn and threatened to deny him his husbandly privileges tonight.'
'Twas a foolish challenge,' Clare said distantly. 'He made me very angry and I made certain statements which I have since withdrawn.'
'I am pleased to hear that. You are a woman of strong passions. You do not always govern your emotions as well as you govern your lands. Now that you are a married woman, you must exert more control over yourself.'
'Aye, my lady.' She could do without an admonishing speech on the importance of self-mastery today, Clare thought glumly. She had enough weighing on her mind as it was.
'You must guard your temper whenever you are in your husband's presence,' Margaret continued.
'Tis obvious that Sir Gareth is not a man who will tolerate defiance in his wife.'
'I have already heard this lecture. Why is it that everyone else seems to think she knows more about managing Lord Gareth than I do?'
'Mayhap because the rest of us are older and wiser. Heed me, my child.
If you would manage your lord, you must do so with a gentle tongue and a woman's clever ways.'
'Very well, madam. I shall heed your advice. You need not alarm yourself about my safety tonight.
When the time comes, I shall welcome my lord into my bedchamber.'
Margaret smiled complacently. 'Marriage is difficult enough without starting it off by offending your lord on your wedding night. And since we are speaking of making a good beginning, I may as well give you this now before I forget.'
Clare glanced down as Margaret removed a small, carefully wrapped bundle from a pouch that hung from the girdle of her habit. 'A gift, madam? How kind of you. What is it?'
'A small vial of chicken blood.'
Clare choked back laughter. 'I vow, I am going to be awash in the stuff.'
'What do you mean?'
'You are not the first one to give me such a thoughtful gift.' Clare stuffed the small packet into the little woven pouch on her own girdle.
'I thank you, madam. I shall add it to my collection.'
'Keep one of the vials close by tonight. Sprinkle a bit on the sheets before your lord awakes and all will be well.'
'What would you say, madam, if I were to tell you that such a precaution is unnecessary?'
'As to that, I make no comment,' Margaret said briskly. 'You are a woman, not a young girl. You have carried out a woman's duties and responsibilities here on this manor since you were twelve years old. I am well aware of your feelings for Raymond de Coleville and as far as I am concerned, whatever transpired between the two of you is your affair.'
'Thank you,' Clare said. 'But in truth, Raymond was a most chivalrous knight. He and I?'
Margaret held up a hand to stop the tale. 'As I said, the matter of your virginity is your business and yours
