"I am?"
"Aye, you cannot have him. He is needed here at home. You sent him to me and I must insist upon being allowed to keep him. There is a great deal to be done around here.
This isle has not had a proper lord for years."
"I see." Thurston gave Gareth an amused sidelong glance.
"If you wish this manor to remain profitable…" Clare paused meaningfully, "mayhap even increase its profits, then you will have to let Sir Gareth remain with us."
A smile edged Thurston's mouth. "I assure you, madam, I certainly do not wish to interfere in any way with increasing profits."
"Well, that settles that, then." Clare looked relieved. "I suppose we can find room for you and your men."
"Thank you. That is very kind of you, madam."
Gareth recalled something Nicholas of Seabern had aid to him at the spring fair. She'll be grateful when you have. She has no use for a husband.
Nicholas was wrong, Gareth thought. Clare wanted him to stay here on Desire. And not just because she found him useful. She loved him. A joyous elation shot hrough him.
Clare turned eagerly back to Abbess Helen. "My lady, you will no doubt wish to refresh yourself after your long journey. Your chambers are prepared."
"Thank you." Abbess Helen's voice was low and husky. It resonated with quiet power.
Clare glowered at Gareth. "You have not welcomed our lady Abbess properly, my lord."
"Very true." Gareth took the abbess's proffered hand and looked down into the gray eyes that were reflections of his own. "Welcome to Desire, Mother."
Clare stormed up and down the length of her chamber while Eunice attempted to dress her.
"His mother. I cannot believe it, Joanna. Abbess Helen is his lady mother. This is so embarrassing.
How could he do this to me?"
"I suspect Lord Gareth did not want you to know of his relationship to the abbess just yet." Joanna watched as Eunice darted in close to Clare and dropped a saffron-bellow gown over her head.
"Whyever not?" Clare struggled to get her face free of the folds of the gown. It settled into place.
Eunice seized the opportunity. She grabbed the laces and set to work.
"Mayhap because he knew that you held her in such high esteem. He no doubt preferred to win your affections on his own merits."
Clare stared at her. "I had not thought of that. Do you think that was the case?"
"It is a possibility." Joanna rose from the stool and went to the door.
"Do not concern yourself about the evening meal. All is in readiness." She paused, one hand on the knob. "Oh, by the way, Dalian has composed several more verses of his new ballad for the occasion."
Clare smiled in spite of her mood. "More verses featuring the brave, bold, daring Lord Gareth?"
"I believe so. He is eager to perform his poem for the company."
Eunice yanked on Clare's hair with just enough force to make her stand still. Grumbling, Clare allowed her aging servant to tuck her tresses into a gold-threaded net.
"Has Sir Ulrich given any indication of when the prisoners will be set free?" Clare asked.
Joanna sighed. "Nay, he has not. Do not expect Lord Gareth to release those men, Clare. You know very well 'tis not the way such matters are handled. The entire lot deserves to hang, if you ask me."
"Aye, and that's a fact," Eunice muttered.
"When I think of what might have become of you and William," Joanna said, "I feel quite faint all over again." She went out the door and closed it softly behind her.
"Lady Joanna is right." Eunice adjusted the orange and blue girdle around Clare's hips. "Lord Gareth has a reputation for dealing firmly with outlaws and thieves. He'll not show mercy to this vile lot. Nor should he, if ye ask me."
"No one asked you, Eunice."
"Ye think he'll do it for ye, don't ye, my lady? Ye believe he cares enough for ye to grant ye this great boon." Eunice gave her a pitying look as she anchored the glittering net in place with a circlet of silver.
"I warn ye, 'tis too much to expect of any man, especially the Hellhound."
"Mayhap I can persuade his father to reason with him."
"That's a good one, that is." Eunice cackled loudly. "Thurston of Landry will more likely offer to help his son construct the gibbets."
"Then mayhap Abbess Helen can have some influence," Clare suggested hopefully.
"Nay, madam. Twill do no good. This is none of her affair and she'll likely agree with the men that hanging's the proper answer to the problem."
Clare closed her eyes in brief, silent prayer. She seemed to be the only one on the isle who felt that hanging seven men above the flowers of Desire was wrong.
Could no one else see that there had been enough violence already? Could none of them comprehend that the magician's men were just homeless young boys who had taken service with the only knight who had offered it?
And as for the poor bowmen, they were simply unfortunate, masterless men who had been driven to their careers because they had no other way to make their living.
She pictured the horrific scene of seven men hanging over a bed of roses and her stomach recoiled.
A short while later Clare ushered Abbess Helen into the study chamber.
"This is such an exciting event for me, my Lady Abbess. I do so enjoy your rare visits. But I cannot tell you how mortified I am that I did not know you were my husband's mother. I vow he never mentioned the fact to me."
"My son is a rather unusual man, much inclined to keep his own counsel."
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."