Nicole Locke - Reclaimed By The Knight

‘I need to change my clothing,’ he said, instead of voicing the thoughts roiling through him.

‘I’ll have water brought up.’

Nicholas pointed to some boys who were carrying pails into the room. ‘There are some buckets here.’

‘You’ll need a tub.’

What he needed was some time to come to terms with Matilda’s pregnancy.

‘How many more are there?’ he asked.

Louve gave him a questioning glance.

Nicholas looked over Louve’s shoulder to the flat stone embedded in the wall. The stone he’d mutilated with his first dagger while waiting for his father to emerge from his empty marriage bed.

‘She’s expecting a child. How many children do they have?’

‘ That’s the question you want to ask me? I thought you’d want to talk about—’

‘Just answer me, dammit,’ Nicholas interrupted.

Louve’s gaze turned assessing. ‘After six years I thought you’d be prepared.’

It had been only three years since her— their —betrayal. ‘No, you didn’t think that. That’s why you’re here now—to see what scene I’ll make.’

‘Why are you here?’

‘This is my home. I have every right to be here.’ He didn’t have to give explanations to anyone.

‘You may have a right to be here, but you have no right to ask questions of Matilda’s personal well-being.’

‘You lecture me on what I have a right to?’ He knew Louve was as guilty as the others. ‘You, Roger and Matilda owe me!’

‘Roger? You bring Roger into this? You can’t even let—’

Without a word or a message, without facing him like a man, Roger had married the only woman he’d ever loved.

‘God himself would expect his punishment.’

Louve’s jaw dropped. ‘You can’t—’

‘I do.’

But Roger’s reckoning would wait until the coward met him face to face. Nicholas had no intention of sharing words with Louve on Roger’s black deeds.

‘For now, I’m simply expecting an answer to my question. How many?’

Louve’s expression turned mutinous. ‘The Nicholas I knew would have shown some mercy towards Roger...towards Matilda, given the circumstances.’

Mercy? To Roger? Never. ‘Tell me more.’

Louve’s brow deepened, then he looked away. ‘No.’

‘You walked with me up here and now you don’t want to talk?’

‘You’re not—’ Louve shook his head. ‘You’re not asking the right questions, and I refuse to believe you can be such a bastard. Come, let’s order some flagons brought up and we can share them here.’

Nicholas flexed his hands at his sides. A bath, ale, banter amongst friends... Were Matilda and Roger supposed to join them as well? Ridiculous . He had the answer to his question and these people were no longer his friends.

‘I have no patience to gossip like an old woman.’

He closed the door in Louve’s face.

* * *

‘What could possibly detain him?’ Matilda asked, not for the first time.

The meal was prepared, and most of the tenants had arrived. Many were dressed in their best clothes in honour of Nicholas’s return. Many had come tonight, and the Great Doors continued to let in icy wind and any stray animal that was fast enough to bypass the children trying to block them.

‘I left him upstairs...’ Louve shrugged.

That had been hours ago, and all day she’d found no distraction. The tenants, her friends, all were excited by Nicholas’s return. Yet she couldn’t—wouldn’t—join in their happy exclamations or murmured conversations.

Her father had been sleeping while Rohesia crushed herbs. Her home had been empty, just as she’d left it. So she had swept her clean floor as if she was attacking wasps and not her turbulent thoughts until she was exhausted. She was always tired now, and even more so when she thought of Roger and what he’d think about today.

What would he make of the joyful chatter spinning through the winding lanes? Mere months he’d been gone. Not enough for grief to be less, but somehow enough for her to feel lost.

She missed her friend...the man who’d wanted her when no one else did. No amount of sweeping would erase that. But then she’d slept long and arrived here late—only to discover the lord of the manor hadn’t shown.

‘He closed the door in your face and you let him?’

‘What would you have had me do?

What had they done in the past? She couldn’t remember. The boys had seemed to have their own mysterious ways. Their chores, their training, their missions and lessons.

‘Perhaps you could have stayed with him.’

‘The man sought rest. I had no intention of watching him bathe or sleep.’

Six years was enough to make a man grown. It had happened to Roger and to Louve. Of course it had happened to Nicholas as well.

Unbidden came thoughts of Nicholas asleep in that room, his dark brown hair curled along his shoulders and spread against the dark cover she’d chosen. His body half turned, as if waiting for her to wake him.

She closed her eyes to hide the sudden sharp emotion before Louve guessed her thoughts. ‘He’s been gone so long and is probably in want of glad tidings. That is all I meant.’

‘Why, Matilda, it sounds like you care .’

She narrowed her gaze. ‘As bailiff, it is my duty to ensure his comfort. And I am one of his oldest friends.’

Louve rolled the cup in his hand. ‘Are you still friends with him?’

‘Why would I not be?’ She had done nothing wrong. Roger would want her to let the past be the past. Roger had been her future...or as much as she had let him be.

‘I offered to share ale, if that appeases your sense of hospitality.’ Louve gestured with the cup in his hand.

That was good, except... ‘But he closed the door in your face.’

‘He didn’t stay in that room.’

‘I don’t understand...’

‘I hadn’t made it far down the stairs before I heard his additional requests. He had them move the buckets to the adjoining room. I didn’t stay to find out the reason. I know when I’m not wanted.’

So did she—and she knew what had happened even if Louve had not guessed. Nicholas had rejected that room just as he’d rejected her. She’d spent coin, time...part of her heart...preparing the room for when he returned, for when he claimed his bride.

He’d taken one look at it and desired the adjoining room. Fuming, Matilda tapped her foot. Worse, it showed that the great lord of the manor expected wasteful comforts. He’d make more work for the household...for her as bailiff.

He had been rude to her, rude to Louve. Maybe she went too far in offering him any hospitality, despite the fact this was his home and Roger would have wanted her to.

‘What did he say about Roger?’

‘Nothing.’

She quickly brushed the chill away from her arms. It did little to warm her, and she knew the coldness came from inside her. Because she was failing to hold back her grief. To show charity and patience as Roger would have wanted. As her daughter deserved.

Perhaps Nicholas was too tired...perhaps he wanted the smaller rooms for household ease.

‘Were his condolences sincere?’ she asked, trying to imagine the conversation.

Louve levelled his eyes at her. ‘He said nothing of Roger.’

‘Roger would—’

Louve’s words registered. Matilda unwound her arms and clenched her hands. There was no imagining this. To be that cruel. That cold. Maybe to her, but never to Roger. When Nicholas had left she’d seethed, but Roger had mourned the loss of their friendship. To know that Nicholas didn’t feel anything. Had not offered some words of kindness...

‘He said nothing of your marriage either,’ Louve added.