“Who saw her?” Derina asked.
“I did.”
Derina looked at him in surprise. “But your eyes-how could you see her?”
Norward shrugged. “My eyes seem to be better.”
With warmth and warm broth brought by a servant, Nellda was brought around. Her eyes traveled from one member of the family to another.
“Where is he?” she asked faintly.
“He isn’t here,” Norward said.
Nellda’s eyes trembled, then closed. “He’s with Medora,” she said. “You should have left me in the snow.”
Burley frowned and took Derina aside. “Who is this person?” he asked. “Does she have a place here?”
“She’s my father’s whore,” Derina said. “And apparently now my father has a new whore, this Medora.”
“And who’s she?”
“I don’t know. Probably some crofter girl. That’s the sort he likes.”
Burley narrowed his eyes in thought. “Can’t we find her a place here? We can’t let her die in the snow.”
Derina’s spine turned rigid. “In our house?” She shook her head. “My mother lives here. I won’t insult her by having Nelly around. Not when Father doesn’t want her anymore.”
Burley sighed. “I will try to think of something.”
Derina caught at his sleeve as he turned. “It’s not your task. This isn’t your family.”
His odd little smile stopped her. “But it is my family now,” he said.
Burley returned to the bed, leaving Derina standing stiff with surprise.
He had his work cut out, she thought, if he thought himself a part of this family.
And, she reminded herself, he probably wouldn’t survive it.
Nelly was hidden away in the servants’ loft, and Norward ordered one of the older maidservants to nurse her. When her strength returned she’d have a job in the stables, where Kendra wouldn’t encounter her.
Landry gave Reeve a ruby ring and a pair of silver spurs-“for his loyalty.” Reeve preened as he strutted about wearing them, the spurs clanking on the flags or catching on the carpet. At dinner Landry sent his wife down the table, and sat with Reeve on one side and the girl Medora on the other. Landry had given her a gold chain belt. She was a frail little blonde thing, giggly when drunk. Derina didn’t think she’d last. She didn’t have brains enough to follow Landry’s moods.
Kendra chatted away at dinner and pretended nothing was wrong, but next day, while Derina was helping her mother at carding wool, Kendra began to weep. Derina searched through her mother’s basket for a strand of wool, pretending that she didn’t see the fat tears rolling down Kendra’s cheeks.
Sometimes, when Kendra was weak, Derina hated her.
“If only I’d given him the sons he wanted,” Kendra moaned. “Then everything would be all right.”
“You gave him sons,” Derina said.
“Not the sons he wished for,” Kendra said. “I should have given him more.”
“It wouldn’t have made any difference,” Derina said. “He’d have despised them, too. Unless they were stronger, and then he would have hated and feared them.”
Kendra’s eyes opened wide in anger. “How dare you say that about your father!”
Derina shrugged. Kendra’s mouth closed in a firm line. “Is it Burley putting these notions in your head?”
Derina wanted to laugh. “I’ve lived here all my life,” she said. “Do you expect me not to know how things are?”
“I expect you to show your father respect, and not to go tattling to Burley or his kin.”
Derina threw down the wool. “They have eyes, Mother. They can see as well as anyone.”
“Be careful.” A touch of fear entered Kendra’s face as Derina stood and moved toward the door.
“Don’t tell!” Don’t tell what? Derina wondered.
Everything. That’s what Kendra meant.
“I’ll say what I like,” Derina said, and left the room.
But doubted if she’d ever say a word.
Derina and Burley had slept in the huge marriage bed for almost a week. After tonight the bed would be taken down, and Derina and Burley moved into her small room in the family quarters. The huge canopied feather bed was much too large for the room, and Derina and Burley would share Derina’s old narrow bed, their breath frosting in the cold that the smoky fire never seemed to relieve.
Before sleep he turned to her. The dying firelight glinted in his pupils. “Derina,” he said. “I hope you like marriage a little better than when we met.”
“I never disliked it.”
“But you didn’t know me. Perhaps you know me a little better now.”
“I hope so.” Marriage, she considered, seemed to suit Burley at any rate. He stood straighter now, and seemed better-formed; his skin had cleared, his breath carried the scent of spiced wine. His warmth in the narrow bed would be welcome.
Burley fumbled under the covers, took her hand. “What I meant to say,” he began, “is that I hope you like me a little. Because it will be powerful hard to lie here next to you in that narrow bed, night after night, and not want to touch you.”
Derina’s heart lurched, and she felt the blood rush to her face. “I never said you couldn’t touch me,” she said.
He hesitated for a moment, then began to kiss her. Pleasantly enough, she decided. After a while of this she felt some action on her part was necessary, and she put her arms around him.
What followed was not bad, she thought later, for all they both needed practice.
A few nights later Derina forgot the leather jack of wine she’d put by the fire to warm, and so she left Burley in their bed, put on a heavy wool cloak, and went down the main stair to fetch it. She heard angry voices booming up, and moved cautiously from stair to stair.
“Who has the spurs?” Reeve’s voice. “Who has Father’s eye?”
Norward’s answer was cutting. “Medora, it would seem.”
“Ha! She won’t have the land and house when he dies! And neither will you, you useless gawk.”
Derina slid silently down the stairs on bare feet, saw Norward moving close to Reeve in front of the fire. Norward seemed so much more impressive than he’d been, his once-lanky form filled with power. Reeve looked uneasy, took a step back.
“Are you planning on Father dying soon?” Norward asked. “I wouldn’t wager that way, were I you.”
“If he lives to a hundred, he won’t favor you!” Reeve shouted “Never in life, blind man!”
“My eyes have improved,” Norward said. “A pity yours have not.”
“Fool! Go to the priesthood, and spend your days in prayer!” Reeve swung a fist, hitting Norward a surprise blow under the eye, and then Norward thrust out a longer arm and struck Reeve on the breast, just as he had at Derina’s wedding, and Reeve lurched backward. One silver spur caught on a crack in the flags and he tumbled down. Norward gave a brief laugh. When Reeve rose, his neck had reddened and murder glowed in his eyes.
“I’ll kill you!” he shouted, and leaped toward the fireplace, his hands reaching for Lord Landry’s sword. Norward tried to seize him and hold him still, but Reeve was too fast-the long straight blade sang from the scabbard and Reeve hacked two-handed at Norward’s head. Norward leaped back, the sword-point whirring scant inches from his face.
Derina cried in alarm and started to run back up the stair, hoping she could somehow fetch Burley and bring an end to it-but one of her feet slipped on the flags and she fell on the stair with a stunning jolt.
Norward leaped to the woodpile to seize a piece of wood to use for a shield, and Reeve screamed and swung the sword again. There was the sound of a sigh, or sob, and Derina wanted to shriek, afraid it was Norward’s last. Dazed on the stair, she couldn’t be certain what happened-but somehow Norward must have dodged the blow, though to Derina’s dazzled eyes it looked, impossibly enough, as if the sword passed clean through his body without doing any hurt. But then Norward lunged forward and smashed Reeve in the face with his log-Reeve shouted, dropped the sword, staggered back. Norward grabbed him by the collar, wrenched him off his feet, and ran him head-first into the fireplace.