They were only men, she told herself. Ugly men at that. The one called Morgan had dark brown hair and hazel eyes. He was identical in size to the one named Henry, though Henry's hair was much lighter and his eyes were brown. The ugliness was a result of their scowls, Nicholaa decided, and their thoughts.
Did they hate her because she was Saxon or because she hadn't chosen their liege lord? Nicholaa decided it didn't matter. They were damned rude, and if that wasn't offensive, she didn't know what was.
King William whacked Royce's shoulder again. "What say you to Baron Guy's boast? Do you think Nicholaa would have chosen him over you if he'd been the one to escort her to London?"
Royce shrugged. Nicholaa wanted to nudge him in his ribs. Did he have to act so bored? She stepped on his foot instead.
"Perhaps," Royce allowed.
"My friend has such good fortune," Guy interjected. His gaze returned to Nicholaa. "And now you, dear lady, will forever be denied the joy of having me for your mate." He paused to sigh. " 'Tis a pity."
Morgan and Henry snickered in unison.
Why was Guy mocking her and Royce? Nicholaa was certain that's exactly what he was doing, but she didn't understand his reason. She looked up to judge Royce's reaction. Her husband's expression didn't tell her anything, though.
"Do you wish us well, Guy?" Royce asked in a voice as mild as a summer breeze.
Guy took a long time answering. The atmosphere turned brittle with tension. What in God's name was going on? It was as though a game was in play and Nicholaa was the only one who wasn't taking part. Her stomach turned queasy, and she suddenly felt threatened.
Then Royce tightened his hold on her shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze. Her fear vanished. She didn't know what to make of that reaction, either.
The Normans were making her daft.
Guy still hadn't answered Royce's question. Several vassals moved forward, obviously intent on listening to the conversation. Lawrence took a step forward.
She certainly liked this vassal. Lawrence wasn't hiding his feelings or trying to play this strange game. His scowl was as fierce as a bear's bite. He was properly furious on his baron's behalf. At least he understood the insults Guy was tossing around, even if Royce didn't.
"Of course I wish you well," Guy finally answered. "I'm just surprised," he added with a shrug.
"Why?" Lawrence asked. He folded his arms across his chest and waited for an answer. "Yes, why?" Nicholaa asked. Morgan and Henry both moved forward. Nicholaa thought the two vassals were trying to show their loyalty to their baron and intimidate Lawrence at the same time.
Still Royce showed no outward reaction to the tension surrounding him.
"I was surprised you chose Royce because of his appearance," Guy explained. " 'Tis a fact that his scar offends most women."
Morgan immediately nodded agreement. Henry was the least subtle of the lot. He grinned.
Nicholaa shrugged Royce's arm away from her shoulder and took a step forward. "Are you referring to the handsome mark of valor upon his cheek, Baron?"
Her voice shook his anger. Guy couldn't hide his surprise. The Saxon wench was a spirited woman. That added to her appeal, as did her eyes, which had turned a deep violet. Guy found her quite arousing. Damn but he wanted her.
"Mark of valor?" he repeated. "What an unusual way of looking at the imperfection."
"Boys have perfection," Nicholaa answered. "I chose a man."
That barb hit deep. Guy's face turned pink with embarrassment. Nicholaa would have let the matter drop then and there if the baron hadn't enraged her with his next remark: "Everyone knows you would have been happier with me."
That did it. His superior attitude might not have offended Royce, but it damn well offended her.
Matilda chose that moment to interfere. "Nicholaa," she began, "you have no way of knowing what this is all about, and so I shall explain Guy's peculiar behavior. He's a very competitive man, my dear. He doesn't take defeat lightly. Yet each time he faces Royce in games of strength, Guy comes in second best."
Matilda's voice held a note of censure. Guy bowed his head and tried to look amused instead of furious.
Nicholaa now had her weapon. She knew she'd probably burn in purgatory an extra day or two for the sin she was about to commit, but she couldn't be bothered with that worry now.
"It was kind of you to explain," she said. ''But I already knew Royce is considered the best warrior in your army."
"How would you have come by that knowledge?" Matilda asked.
"Oh, I'd heard about Royce a long time ago," Nicholaa lied. "My brother's soldiers would whisper about him. He'd become a legend. His feats were recounted over and over again. Royce was their most feared adversary."
Nicholaa turned and gave Guy a sympathetic smile. "Odd, but I never heard your name whispered, Baron."
King William laughed. "There you are, Guy," he announced. "You have your answer. She would have chosen Royce even if you'd gone to fetch her."
Nicholaa nodded. She smiled at Morgan, then at Henry. "Aye," she agreed. "I wanted the best."
It took a supreme act of concentration for Guy to smile back. "I've been properly answered."
Someone shouted for a toast to the groom, and the tension was broken. Guy walked across the hall with Henry by his side. Morgan lingered.
The angry vassal was intent on whispering a threat or two, but Royce wouldn't let him. He nudged Morgan forward and away from Nicholaa, then motioned for Lawrence to stand by her side.
Her husband hadn't even looked at her before he was dragged away by his friends. Nicholaa didn't know if he was pleased by her defense or angry.
Matilda couldn't have been more pleased, however. "Baron Guy is sinfully jealous of Royce, but he's also loyal to his king. I try not to forget that." She turned to smile at Lawrence. "It's a sound match," she told the vassal. "Nicholaa's already loyal to Royce. In time I believe she'll give him her heart."
Nicholaa didn't delude herself. Royce wasn't the type of man who would accept her love-assuming she was in the mood to give it, she qualified. She let out a sigh then, realizing how addled her thoughts had become.
"Did you love William when first you met?" she asked.
Matilda laughed. "No, dear, he courted me for seven years. I finally agreed to marry him, and from that moment on, he had my love. I pray it won't take Royce that long to win yours."
Nicholaa wondered what had changed Matilda's mind after such a long time, but didn't feel she could prod her to explain. Besides, she had another question on her mind. "I was wondering," she began, "how you knew I would choose Royce. I did hear your husband say you knew I would, and I don't understand-"
"It was a simple conclusion," Matilda answered. "When I asked you to tell me how you felt about Royce's appearance it was what you didn't mention that gave me my answer. I'd already guessed it would be a fitting match," she added, patting her hair. "It's what you didn't see."
Nicholaa had no idea what the woman was talking about. "What didn't I see?"
"The scar."
Well, of course she saw the scar when she looked at Royce. It covered half his cheek after all. And just what did that have to do with anything?
Matilda turned to Lawrence. "Your new mistress told me she believes Royce to be a vain man."
Lawrence laughed. Nicholaa could feel herself turning pink with embarrassment.
Matilda patted her arm. "Come along now," she ordered. "You must return to your chamber to await your husband. We aren't allowed to join in tonight's celebration. Tomorrow night you'll have your festive dinner, Nicholaa, but tonight belongs to the men. It's for the better," she added with a nod. "You look exhausted from all the chaos. It was a lovely ceremony, wasn't it?" she continued. "Don't dally, Nicholaa. I shall walk with you part of the distance. Lawrence? You may have the honor of escorting us."