Coulter, Catherine. Rosehaven / Catherine Coulter.

Severin is journeying to his other holdings. The castellans there must swear fealty to him. He will make certain there are no problems, no insurrections brewing.”

I should be with him. It is the way things are done. It is expected.”

He did not wish it. No one mentioned it except you. Why would y°u wish to be with him if you don’t like him?”

It is the way of things. Liking has nothing to do with it.”

“Severin wished to go alone.”

“I am not overly prideful, Gwent.”

“Mayhap. Mayhap not.”

“When will he return?”

“A fortnight, mayhap longer.”

“Does he also journey to Langthorne?”

“Not as yet. This is more important.” Gwent looked down at the cut on his forearm that did not seem to be healing. He’d been careless. During practice with the quintain, he had fallen and cut himself with his own sword.”

“Let me see, Gwent.”

1 He looked puzzled, then realized she’d followed his vision to his arm. There was a dirty rag tied around his forearm.

“It is nothing,” he said, and rose. “I must work the men. It is what Severin wants.”

Without thinking, Hastings shoved him back onto the bench. “You will go nowhere until I have seen what is wrong. I do not wish you to die, and that happens many times when there is an open wound. It is something about the blood that turns bad and poisons the body. Hold still, Gwent.”

He Differed her. He didn’t make a sound when she bathed the cut. It

was deep and ugly. When she rubbed an infusion of chives and SaintJohn’s-wort onto the sore, he didn’t even flinch. She knew that it hurt. “Listen to me, Gwent. You will keep this bandage clean. I will change it every evening until the wound is healed, if you do not obey me, there is every chance that you could die.”

Gwent wanted to tell her that she was a woman and thus she saw every little cut or bruise as something to fell a man. But he kept still. Men did die too easily from wounds. Also, she was the mistress of Oxborough, Severin’s wife, and he rather liked her. He had never seen his master so utterly baffled in his life. She had right upended him and he had said to Gwent that if he didn’t learn to control her he would as like thrash her

j 1 gjje Would make his bowels turn to water and what man wanted

that?

Gwent rose, smiled down at her, and said, “My thanks, Hastings.

Worry not about Severin. If there is any trouble at the keeps, he will send a message to me. Ah, Hastings, since you have cured my arm, I agree. I don’t really believe you are overly prideful.”

“Keep the bandage clean, Gwent.”

“Aye,” he said, then turned to see Torric the steward standing there. “Ah I believe it is the worm who has crawled into the hall to see if I have vet realized that he is a miserable cheat. By Saint Andrew’s teeth, I hate

cheats.”

Torric was a cheat? He had been with her father for five years now. Her father had trusted him. They were rich, all their holdings prospering. Gwent believed he was cheating? That meant that Severin believed it too. She had never paid any attention to the steward’s varied tasks about Oxborough. She only knew that Torric performed all his duties well, was usually fair with all their people, and smiled perhaps not as much as a man should, but it wasn’t all that important. Perhaps she should begin to pay a bit more attention.

During the second week of Severin’s absence, on a hot and dusty afternoon, Alart, the porter, yelled that a company of men were approaching. Since Oxborough rose above the surrounding countryside, they could see all who approached from great distances. These men were still some miles away.

Hastings saw the king’s standard. Surely King Edward was not arriving for a visit. But still, Hastings quickly changed her gown, combed her hair, and braided it neatly about her head, and grabbed Eloise’s hand to stand in front of the keep.

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