Helen glided gracefully over to the bookshelves. Her habit was as magnificently cut and sewn as the most costly of gowns. Her wimple was exquisitely draped to form a perfect frame for her elegant face and crystal eyes. "He does not reveal much of himself to others."
Clare grimaced. "Aye, that is certainly true."
Helen smiled. "I would have you know that I am well pleased with this match, Clare."
"So am I." Clare went to stand by the window. "You know better than most, madam, that I did not particularly wish to marry."
"Aye. But we both knew that you had a duty to do so. You had no choice in the matter."
"You chose your son for me, did you not? It was all your idea, wasn't it?"
"Aye. I wrote to Lord Thurston and suggested that it would be a good match."
"I am honored that you felt I would be a suitable wife for your son,"
Clare whispered.
"You are the only woman I have ever met who could give Gareth what he seeks most."
Clare glanced at her. "What is that?"
"A home of his own."
"Oh."
Helen gave her a speculative look. "I have heard that he has learned to laugh."
"Your son possesses an odd notion of amusement, madam, but he definitely does possess it."
"You have fallen in love with him, have you not?"
"Aye."
"Have you told him?"
"Aye."
"What did he say?"
Clare shrugged. "Nothing. He seemed content with the knowledge."
"But he did not tell you that he loves you, too?"
"Nay."
Helen sighed. "As I said, my son has never been the sort to reveal his feelings to others. I do not know if he will ever be able to do so. You must learn to look beneath the surface if you would know him well."
"I believe I know him very well, madam. But there are some things that must be put into words." She swung around to face Helen. "You may as well know that Gareth and I are involved in what some might term a quarrel."
Helen looked amused. "So I am told. 'Twill be interesting to witness the outcome. My son has never had much practice at losing battles."
"Your mother is as beautiful as ever." Thurston contemplated the magician's toys that Gareth had spread out on the chamber table.
"Uh-huh." Gareth frowned intently over a page in Sir Humphrey's book.
"What do you make of this reference to a machine that is powered by the same mechanism that causes a water clock to function?"
"I have no notion." Thurston glanced down at the page without much interest. "It was all her idea, you know."
"What was?"
"Marrying you off to Lady Clare."
"I assumed as much when I learned that Mother and Clare had formed a long-standing correspondence."
"You seem satisfied with the marriage.".
"Aye." Gareth turned the page.
"She appears quite determined to keep you tied close to home and hearth."
"Aye."
"The, uh, rumors of her loss of virginity at the hands of Sir Nicholas were unfortunate."
"Not that it is any of your affair, sir, but the rumors proved unfounded."
"Ah. I see. Twas not the lady's reputation that concerned me, you know."
"I know what concerned you, sir." Gareth bent closer to study a small drawing. "You feared that I would feel obliged to kill Sir Nicholas and thus deprive you of his services."
"Aye. I'm glad it did not come to that. Nicholas may not be every woman's dream of a chivalrous knight, but he is a good man with a sword and loyal into the bargain.
Such men are all too rare."
"Aye."
"I have heard other rumors," Thurston continued.
"Have you?"
"I am informed that you and your lady are locked in a quarrel concerning the hanging of those men you captured when you retook your hall."
"She would have me set them free. Clare is very softhearted. She is unaccustomed to violence. And its aftermath."
"Women." Thurston sighed. "They simply do not understand such matters."
Gareth met his father's amused gaze. "On that we agree, sir."
And thus did open the Window of Hell.
And into it the wicked magician fell.
Henceforth let all evildoers bewareth the strength and the fury of the mighty Sir Gareth.
Gareth winced. He leaned toward Clare, who, along with everyone else in the crowded hall, was busily cheering the final verses of Dalian's newest song.
"Bewareth Sir Gareth?" he repeated dryly.
"I think it has a nice ring to it." Clare smiled proudly at Dalian, who was flushed with the joys of success. "The only thing wrong with the song as far as I am concerned is the second to the last verse. I do not like the part about the seven men being hung."
Abbess Helen took a bite of an almond'Stuffed fig. "What ending would you prefer, Clare?"
Clare slid Gareth a glance that spoke volumes. "I believe that mighty Sir Gareth should show mercy to the men he captured. Tell me, madam, doesn't the Church encourage that sort of thing?"
"It rather depends on the situation," Helen murmured. "The Church can be remarkably practical about such matters. Furthermore, it teaches the need for justice."
"Aye, but?"
"Enough." Gareth struck the table a resounding blow that set the mugs to rattling.
Every head in the hall turned instantly toward the head table.
Clare jumped. Her spoon clattered back into the bowl in front of her.
"Gareth, really, this is neither the time nor the place?"
"I disagree." Gareth rose ominously to his feet. "It is most definitely the time and the place, lady wife.
We are going to settle this matter here tonight. I will have no more of this unceasing scolding, madam."
Clare glowered up at him. Gareth never appeared small or even medium-sized at the best of times, but towering over her like this he looked absolutely huge. "I am not scolding you, my lord. I never scold."
"On the contrary, you have made yourself a thorn in my side over this matter and I will not tolerate it any longer."
Clare barely restrained herself from throwing the remains of her pottage at him. She glanced quickly at the faces of her guests and was horrified to see that Lord Thurston and Lady Helen appeared to be greatly amused.
"My lord, you are embarrassing me in front of this company," Clare said through her teeth. "Kindly sit down and behave yourself."
Gareth folded his arms across his broad chest. "Not until we have done with this idiocy. Everyone in this hall knows that freeing those seven men is a ludicrous notion. Give me a single sound reason for doing it."
Clare was rapidly losing her temper. "It would be an act of mercy and compassion."
"This is not sufficient reason."
"It would be just the sort of gracious gesture that would do proper honor to the birthday of Saint Hermione."
"Madam, until I came to this isle, I had never even heard of Saint Hermione. I am certainly not going to release those men on her account. Give me another reason."
"To celebrate the visit of your parents?" she tried desperately.
"Nay, that is not sufficient reason."
Clare could not stand it anymore. She leaped to her ' feet. "I ask a favor of you, sir. I vow, Hellhound, if you have the smallest spark of affection in your heart for me, you will show mercy toward those men."
Gareth's eyes were unreadable. "The smallest spark of affection, did you say?"
"Aye," she flung back, goaded beyond endurance. "If you returned even a portion of the love that I have for you, my lord, you would have no difficulty granting me this boon."
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Clare wanted to disappear in a puff of smoke. She could not believe she had been such a fool.
Not a single person moved. Even the servants were frozen in place.