The Conquest Read online

  She leaned back against the chair and felt the warmth of the fire on her face. Sometimes she wished she could go home, for there everything was exactly as it was supposed to be. She knew who were her friends and who were her enemies. She had grown up knowing that she was to hate the Howards, yet her mind was cluttered with a thousand images. She remembered Tearle in black armor knocking all challengers from their horses. She remembered his laughing and teasing her. She thought of his reading to her and smiling at her across the light of a single candle.

  She put her hand to her head. Was he the enemy or her friend? He was a Howard, so he could not be her friend, and yet…

  In the last two weeks they had been together almost constantly, and she had talked to him as she'd never talked to anyone before. In her family, all talk that did not concern war with the Howards was considered a waste of time, but Tearle did not seem to think that any talk was a waste of time.

  They talked about things that had happened to them as children, what they liked and disliked, what they hoped would happen in the future. They always managed to avoid talking about the hatred that was between their brothers. In fact, they managed to avoid that issue so well that it was almost as though they weren't sworn enemies.

  Tearle had shown her plans he'd had drawn for renovating the dwellings around his mother's house. He took her to meet some of his tenants. At her brothers' house the tenants were not known by their names. Her brothers considered men who could fight to be the only men of importance. But during the many visits Tearle and his mother had made to her home in England Tearle had gotten to know the people who farmed his acres, and he asked about their children, and when there was sickness he saw that the people were cared for.

  How could she hate a man who was so kind and who laughed so often? At first she thought that he was pretending to be a man who thought of other people, but the men and women who worked for him were unafraid of him. And the children ran to him, expecting the sweets that he carried in his pockets.

  Zared began to ask him more questions about his life, about what he did when he'd returned with his mother to England. "Did you see your brothers when you returned?"

  "No," Tearle had answered softly. "My mother felt that she had done her duty and given her husband sons that he could kill in his battle with the Peregrines, so she owed him no more sons and no more of her time. I was the youngest, and she took me with her to France. I lived with her and rarely saw my father or my older brothers."

  It took Zared a while to realize that he had not been raised to participate in the feud, that the hatred between the Howards and the Peregrines meant nothing to him.

  The more she thought, the more confused she became. If he wasn't interested in the hatred, why had he married her? He had suggested an annulment readily enough when she'd said that she didn't want him to touch her, but he seemed to like her well enough.

  She got out of her chair and walked to the fire. Like her, did he? She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to think about going back to her brothers' house to live. She would have to return to a place where no one laughed or made jokes, where everything was of the utmost seriousness.

  She thought of her oldest brother Rogan and the way his wife had to fight him for every bit of freedom she had. Rogan loved his wife, but it wasn't a love that allowed her to say and do what she pleased. And then there was Severn, who was married to the beautiful Lady Anne. Zared wondered if Lady Anne's temper had caused her brother to kill the woman yet.

  She moved back to the chair and sat down hard, her head in her hands. God help her, but she didn't want to go back to her brothers. She wanted to stay with this man, this man who was her enemy, the man her family hated. The blood that ran through him had killed her older brothers, had stolen everything that belonged to them. He was a man she should hate, yet she didn't.

  On the table beside her was the ribbon knot that he had won for her. She remembered how proud she had been when she had seen him wrestling that man, how much prouder she had been when he had won. She put the ribbon to her cheek.

  What was she going to do? Was there any way that she could have both her family and the man?

  She went to bed, but she had a restless night, and in the morning she found herself snapping at people. She was already at the table when Tearle came downstairs. Unlike her, he had no circles under his eyes from lack of sleep.

  He greeted her cheerfully, smiling and happy.

  Zared looked at him over her mug of watered ale and said, "When will you hear from the king?"

  Tearle sat down at the head of the table and cut a large piece of cheese to put on his bread. "You are anxious to have the marriage ended?"

  She looked up at him, and for a moment her heart was in her eyes, but she looked away. "It would be best to have it over with."

  Tearle was quiet for a moment, so she looked at him. His face showed no expression. When had he grown so handsome? she wondered. When had he changed from being a frog of a man to being the most handsome man she had ever seen in her life? If their marriage must end, it was better that it should end sooner than later. She could not allow herself to grow any fonder of him than she already was.

  At last Tearle shrugged. "Who can say what the king will do? I am sure that he will take his own time." He looked at her over his mug. "Perhaps he will deny my petition."

  "Deny it?" She held her breath. "W-why would he do that?"

  "All in all I would say that ours is a good marriage. We unite two warring families. Perhaps he will not allow us to separate."

  Zared's first reaction was to smile. Maybe they could stay in the house forever. Maybe she could have an herb garden. Maybe she could have some new gowns made. Maybe they could breed a few children.

  She caught herself and gave a good imitation of a frown. "My brothers will not like my being married to a Howard. Perhaps I should go back to my brothers' house. Perhaps the king will more likely sign the petition if I am home again."

  She looked at him and realized that she wanted him to say that he wanted her to stay with him forever, that he wanted her never to leave him. She wanted him to beg her to stay with him.

  "As you wish," he said. "Shall I have my men guide you to your home?"

  She felt like throwing her food in his face. "If my brothers were to see me riding under the Howard banner, they would attack before questions could be answered."

  "Ah, then," he said slowly, "perhaps you should remain here for as long as it takes the king to reply."

  It took her a moment to understand him, but then she smiled. "Perhaps that would be best."

  They went riding that day, traveling far into the countryside and leaving the men behind them. Tearle took her to see a circle of enormous standing stones that had been built by the ancients. He told her a scary story about human sacrifices being made on the stones, then he lunged at her, pretending that he was about to sacrifice her. She squealed and giggled, but then stopped when he paused with her on the stone, his big body hanging over hers.

  He will kiss me now, she thought. He will forget about this talk of annulment and hold me.

  But he didn't. He turned away from her and walked to another stone, and when she got down from the stone where he had placed her he didn't look at her. She walked to him, but he kept his face averted, and only after some moments had passed did he look at her.

  "It grows dark," he said softly. "We should return."

  It was after that day that he began to stay away from her. In such a short time she had become so used to spending time with him that she found that she missed him. She saw him in the courtyard training with his men, so she borrowed some clothes from the cook's boy, dressed in them, and went to join him.

  She smiled at him, but he did not return her smile. "You are my wife. You are not to display yourself before my men that way," he said, looking down at her legs, which were covered with no more than thin knit hose.

  "What am I supposed to do all day?" she spit at him. "And I am not your wife!