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but the slightest aversion to be taking her for Rothwell, and that only because she was so young, and lovely as well.
    It was too common a happening, the old lords taking children to wife, and he had already grappled with his conscience about taking any wife to someone like Rothwell, deciding a man in his position could not afford to involve himself with the right or wrong of it. If he did not take her to the old man, someone else would, so why should he give up five hundred marks simply because Rothwell personally disgusted him? If he had been dragging his feet over the whole affair, ’twas only because of his own reluctance to actually have to deal with a “lady.” Personal experience had taught him well that they were not what they seemed to be.
    This one, for all her look of sweet innocence and nervousness, too, as she approached him, could be as vicious and cruel as any other he had known; reminded of that, Ranulf gritted his teeth now that he must actually speak with her. ’Twas sheer perversity that he did not rise for the sake of chivalry, or even because her rank was so far above him. Ladies had long been calling him brute and churl because he did not hide his contempt for them. But because he must deal with this one, he schooled his features to a blandness that did not reveal what he really felt.
    She, in fact, curtsied before him. Well, why not? He was accustomed to being called lord by servants or anyone who did not know he was no more than a landless knight undeserving of that title.
    “I bid you welcome to Clydon,” she said as she rose, her voice soft if a bit hesitant in her nervousness. “Do forgive us for not greeting you sooner, but we all thought our lady would have met you in—”
    “Your lady? You are not Reina de Champeney?”
    “Oh, nay, my lord. I am Elaine Fitz Osbern of Forthwick. ’Tis my honor to be fostered here at Clydon with my father’s overlady.”
    “Now, Ranulf…” Walter began as he saw his friend’s expression darken dangerously, but he was too late.
    “By Christ’s holy blood!” Ranulf bellowed. “I will know why the lady will not receive me, and I will know it now! You, Malfed, were sent—”
    “My lord, please!” Aubert cried, fearfully backing away even as Elaine Fitz Osbern was doing. “My lady was not where I thought she would be, but she means to make you welcome, I swear!”
    “Five minutes, sirrah, or by God—”
    He did not have to finish. Aubert turned about and ran away again, this time toward the bailey. Ranulf then fixed his eyes back on Lady Elaine, who began to stutter.
    “May—may I—offer—” With a tiny gasp, she gave up and fled, too.
    “Well, there goes our refreshment, thank you very much,” Walter grumbled. “And that thunder of yours has frightened away everyone else as well. I suppose I could try to find the buttery myself, but God’swounds, it might take days to locate it in a place this size.”
    Ranulf’s reply was curt and to the point. “Searle, stuff something in his mouth if he says another word.”

Chapter Five
    A ubert nearly ran Reina down on the stairs as she mounted them with Theodric at her side. If Theo had not caught her, she would have gone tumbling backwards, yet the squire was so agitated he did not even think to apologize.
    “Thank God you are come at last, my lady! The lord has somehow taken insult that you have not received him. He affrighted Lady Elaine to death and—”
    “And you as well, I see,” Reina snapped impatiently. “ Jesú , I told you to make them welcome, Aubert. Did you offer refreshment, see to their comfort?”
    “I—I did not think you would be so long, and—and he is monstrous, my lady. I have never seen a man so—”
    “Lackwit! Do you tell me all this time no one has attended them?”
    “I thought you would be down.”
    “I never came up! There were wounded who needed immediate attention and—oh! Never mind. I swear, Aubert, you have me so wroth, if I do not see you for a