without being told. Kirk had long
recognized the relationship between Edmund and his step-sister, a concept that
distressed him now as it had from the beginning. But being a discreet man, he
had never said a word. Edmund knew the tact wasn't for the benefit of his
liege; it was simply because Kirk couldn't bring himself to verbally
acknowledge the situation.
"Well, then," Edmund
said after a moment. "What is it you wished to discuss?"
"The Lady
Micheline, my lord," Kirk replied.
Edmund raised an
eyebrow. "Oh, yes. My new bride." He shook his head, turning back to
the decanter of liquor. "You should have left her at Haslingden, Kirk. She
certainly isn't what I'd hoped for."
Kirk watched his young
lord take another drink of wine. "I am sorry you feel that way," he
said quietly. "She's a nice young woman, kind and obedient. She'll make a
fine chatelaine for Anchorsholme."
"What of Johanne?"
Edmund turned to him. "She is an excellent chatelaine. How can I ask her
to share the reins of power with an outsider?"
"As your wife, the
Lady Micheline should have sole power. You are, after all, the baron. And she
will be the baroness."
Edmund did not like that
thought. Pursing his lips, he strolled to the long windows. "Curse my
father for accepting this betrothal," he muttered, gazing over the
landscape. "I wanted no part of this, Kirk. I would have welcomed the
black-haired girl, but her sister is below my expectations."
"Edmund,"
Kirk's voice was soft. Firm. "The Lady Micheline has had a difficult life.
You are making it far more difficult with your obvious displeasure. But you
have no choice in the matter, as she does not. If you will simply accept the
situation and take comfort in the lands she brings, I am sure you will come to
terms with this. I must say, I was rather embarrassed by your reaction in the
bailey. You left me to make excuses for your behavior."
Edmund looked at the
knight; at thirty-two years of age, he was everything Edmund could never be if
he lived to one hundred. The big brother he never knew, the mentor he never
had. Edmund knew Kirk respected him simply because he was sworn to him; but
true respect, something that had to be earned, was non-existent. Given his
relationship with Johanne, Edmund suspected he would never earn it.
"I apologize for
that," he said softly. "I suppose I am not very good at masking my
emotions. After witnessing her beauteous sister, the lady's average features
caught me off-guard."
Kirk cocked an eyebrow.
"I am not the one you should apologize to."
Edmund nodded
reluctantly. "You are right, of course." He refused to elaborate
further. Taking a deep breath, he moved away from the window. "We have
other things to discuss, Kirk. I received a missive from your father
yesterday."
Kirk was veered off the
subject of Lady Micheline by mention of his father. "What did he
say?"
Edmund did not look
pleased. "He seems to think there is a rebellion brewing among my vassals.
The harvest was poor, as you know, and winter stores are not plentiful. The
serfs resent the taxes I impose on them and are growing restless as the cold spell
deepens. Your father believes a revolt is imminent."
Kirk's eyebrows rose.
"A revolt? Ridiculous! The House of De Cleveley has always treated her
vassals fairly."
Edmund shrugged. "I
take half of all harvests from my Irish subjects, which is less than some
English overlords. Even so, with the countryside bordering on famine, the
people are looking for someone to blame and that person, apparently, is
me."
Kirk's jaw ticked.
"Would you have me rally support from our allies and ride to my father's
aid?"
Edmund shook his head.
"Not yet." He poured himself more liquor. "Ryan Connaught is
content to wait out the situation for the moment. If it intensifies, then we
will have no choice."
Kirk knew is father to
be an intelligent warrior, not one to panic prematurely. If Ryan said a revolt
was imminent, then Kirk was inclined to believe immediate action was
recognized the relationship between Edmund and his step-sister, a concept that
distressed him now as it had from the beginning. But being a discreet man, he
had never said a word. Edmund knew the tact wasn't for the benefit of his
liege; it was simply because Kirk couldn't bring himself to verbally
acknowledge the situation.
"Well, then," Edmund
said after a moment. "What is it you wished to discuss?"
"The Lady
Micheline, my lord," Kirk replied.
Edmund raised an
eyebrow. "Oh, yes. My new bride." He shook his head, turning back to
the decanter of liquor. "You should have left her at Haslingden, Kirk. She
certainly isn't what I'd hoped for."
Kirk watched his young
lord take another drink of wine. "I am sorry you feel that way," he
said quietly. "She's a nice young woman, kind and obedient. She'll make a
fine chatelaine for Anchorsholme."
"What of Johanne?"
Edmund turned to him. "She is an excellent chatelaine. How can I ask her
to share the reins of power with an outsider?"
"As your wife, the
Lady Micheline should have sole power. You are, after all, the baron. And she
will be the baroness."
Edmund did not like that
thought. Pursing his lips, he strolled to the long windows. "Curse my
father for accepting this betrothal," he muttered, gazing over the
landscape. "I wanted no part of this, Kirk. I would have welcomed the
black-haired girl, but her sister is below my expectations."
"Edmund,"
Kirk's voice was soft. Firm. "The Lady Micheline has had a difficult life.
You are making it far more difficult with your obvious displeasure. But you
have no choice in the matter, as she does not. If you will simply accept the
situation and take comfort in the lands she brings, I am sure you will come to
terms with this. I must say, I was rather embarrassed by your reaction in the
bailey. You left me to make excuses for your behavior."
Edmund looked at the
knight; at thirty-two years of age, he was everything Edmund could never be if
he lived to one hundred. The big brother he never knew, the mentor he never
had. Edmund knew Kirk respected him simply because he was sworn to him; but
true respect, something that had to be earned, was non-existent. Given his
relationship with Johanne, Edmund suspected he would never earn it.
"I apologize for
that," he said softly. "I suppose I am not very good at masking my
emotions. After witnessing her beauteous sister, the lady's average features
caught me off-guard."
Kirk cocked an eyebrow.
"I am not the one you should apologize to."
Edmund nodded
reluctantly. "You are right, of course." He refused to elaborate
further. Taking a deep breath, he moved away from the window. "We have
other things to discuss, Kirk. I received a missive from your father
yesterday."
Kirk was veered off the
subject of Lady Micheline by mention of his father. "What did he
say?"
Edmund did not look
pleased. "He seems to think there is a rebellion brewing among my vassals.
The harvest was poor, as you know, and winter stores are not plentiful. The
serfs resent the taxes I impose on them and are growing restless as the cold spell
deepens. Your father believes a revolt is imminent."
Kirk's eyebrows rose.
"A revolt? Ridiculous! The House of De Cleveley has always treated her
vassals fairly."
Edmund shrugged. "I
take half of all harvests from my Irish subjects, which is less than some
English overlords. Even so, with the countryside bordering on famine, the
people are looking for someone to blame and that person, apparently, is
me."
Kirk's jaw ticked.
"Would you have me rally support from our allies and ride to my father's
aid?"
Edmund shook his head.
"Not yet." He poured himself more liquor. "Ryan Connaught is
content to wait out the situation for the moment. If it intensifies, then we
will have no choice."
Kirk knew is father to
be an intelligent warrior, not one to panic prematurely. If Ryan said a revolt
was imminent, then Kirk was inclined to believe immediate action was
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