Read Online Warrior's Song by Catherine Coulter - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Catherine Coulter
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witsâ that is what she values."
    "As I said, you have set me a problem."
    "You will decide if the problem is too great for you to deal with."
    Lord Richard had struck him hard in the face with that challenge, one, Jerval thought, that he knew he would not hesitate to take on. Dear God, what was he getting himself into?
    Lord Richard left the young man, who, in truth, looked like Chandra's brother, and went to search out his wife, who had been hiding from him for two days now. He'd nearly caught her once, but she'd gone to the jakes, not her solar. He found her in her solar this time, sitting tall and proud in her high-backed chair, ready, he supposed, to face him.
    He still wanted to beat her. Even after two days, his blood hadn't cooled. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. He ordered her women from the chamber. Six colorful pigeons, giggling, talking about him behind their hands, their eyes full on him. He came to stand in front of her, his fists on his hips, his legs spread. She looks old, he thought, and there is no bigger bitch in all of Christendom.
    "Why did you come out of the hidden chamber?"
    Lady Dorothy started to repeat her litany, for it sounded quite reasonable, but she realized he wouldn't believe her, not for an instant. She gave a shrug that she knew enraged him. "You want the truth, do you? Very well. I wanted her gone. Lord Graelam de Moreton actually wanted to take her, something I cannot begin to imagine, but it was true. He wanted to wed her. He wanted to take her away with him. I was overjoyed. I gave him my blessing."
    "You are a stupid cow."
    "You never said a word about Jerval de Vernon, not even a hint to me of your plans for her. Graelam was a perfectly good match for her, a powerful man, a wealthy one as well. He is much better than she deserves, truth be told. I did what I thought right. She is past old enough, eighteen now. She needs to be married. You need to gain worth from a marriage alliance. What better alliance than with Graelam de Moreton?"
    "You considered none of this. You wanted to be rid of her, and you saw your chance. You wouldn't have cared if he'd raped her on the floor of the Great Hall, if he'd captured her and ridden away with her, if he'd been a Welsh bandit on a raid."
    "Aye, that is true enough," she said, and she smiled at him. For a moment, he saw the remnants of beauty in her that had given him a very brief period of satisfaction so many years before. Her hair was once black as the hills of Wales just to their west, drenched in darkness. Now it was threaded with coarse gray strands, weaving in and out. There was no gray in his golden hair. There were lines of discontent fanning from her eyes, creasing her face beside her mouth. She was old, he thought again.
    "Damn you, you should have known that I had made plans for her. You did know, didn't you? You simply chose to get rid of her as quickly as you could."
    She had the gall to shrug again.
    "You knew I would do what was best."
    "Ah, best for whom, Richard? Perhaps for yourself since you have molded her into your own image, kept her with you year after year, allowing her to do what she pleases, allowing her to show me her contempt for all things that a woman must know andâ"
    "I know that you abused her," Lord Richard said abruptly, cutting her off, and he took a step away from her, his desire to clout her was so great. He said the words again, "You abused her."
    "So," Lady Dorothy said slowly, "the perfidious little bitch went whining to you, did she? Well, it isn't true. I only struck her when she deserved it, as any good mother would do."
    "She told me nothing. You, lady, are a liar. You hit her whenever you wished to.
    "As I said, you have set me a problem."
    "You will decide if the problem is too great for you to deal with."
    Lord Richard had struck him hard in the face with that challenge, one, Jerval thought, that he knew he would not hesitate to take on. Dear God, what was he getting himself into?
    Lord Richard left the young man, who, in truth, looked like Chandra's brother, and went to search out his wife, who had been hiding from him for two days now. He'd nearly caught her once, but she'd gone to the jakes, not her solar. He found her in her solar this time, sitting tall and proud in her high-backed chair, ready, he supposed, to face him.
    He still wanted to beat her. Even after two days, his blood hadn't cooled. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. He ordered her women from the chamber. Six colorful pigeons, giggling, talking about him behind their hands, their eyes full on him. He came to stand in front of her, his fists on his hips, his legs spread. She looks old, he thought, and there is no bigger bitch in all of Christendom.
    "Why did you come out of the hidden chamber?"
    Lady Dorothy started to repeat her litany, for it sounded quite reasonable, but she realized he wouldn't believe her, not for an instant. She gave a shrug that she knew enraged him. "You want the truth, do you? Very well. I wanted her gone. Lord Graelam de Moreton actually wanted to take her, something I cannot begin to imagine, but it was true. He wanted to wed her. He wanted to take her away with him. I was overjoyed. I gave him my blessing."
    "You are a stupid cow."
    "You never said a word about Jerval de Vernon, not even a hint to me of your plans for her. Graelam was a perfectly good match for her, a powerful man, a wealthy one as well. He is much better than she deserves, truth be told. I did what I thought right. She is past old enough, eighteen now. She needs to be married. You need to gain worth from a marriage alliance. What better alliance than with Graelam de Moreton?"
    "You considered none of this. You wanted to be rid of her, and you saw your chance. You wouldn't have cared if he'd raped her on the floor of the Great Hall, if he'd captured her and ridden away with her, if he'd been a Welsh bandit on a raid."
    "Aye, that is true enough," she said, and she smiled at him. For a moment, he saw the remnants of beauty in her that had given him a very brief period of satisfaction so many years before. Her hair was once black as the hills of Wales just to their west, drenched in darkness. Now it was threaded with coarse gray strands, weaving in and out. There was no gray in his golden hair. There were lines of discontent fanning from her eyes, creasing her face beside her mouth. She was old, he thought again.
    "Damn you, you should have known that I had made plans for her. You did know, didn't you? You simply chose to get rid of her as quickly as you could."
    She had the gall to shrug again.
    "You knew I would do what was best."
    "Ah, best for whom, Richard? Perhaps for yourself since you have molded her into your own image, kept her with you year after year, allowing her to do what she pleases, allowing her to show me her contempt for all things that a woman must know andâ"
    "I know that you abused her," Lord Richard said abruptly, cutting her off, and he took a step away from her, his desire to clout her was so great. He said the words again, "You abused her."
    "So," Lady Dorothy said slowly, "the perfidious little bitch went whining to you, did she? Well, it isn't true. I only struck her when she deserved it, as any good mother would do."
    "She told me nothing. You, lady, are a liar. You hit her whenever you wished to.
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