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“Don’t scrub so hard your face rubs off,” said a voice closer than she’d expected. “I happen to like the way you look.” She whipped round to find Lord Vawdrey picking the bolster up off the floor and tossing it onto the bed. He was still naked. Fen dropped the wash-cloth through nerveless fingers. It landed in the bowl with a loud splash and soaked all down the front of her thin shift. She squealed. What the hells was wrong with her this morning?
“What is it? Did you scald yourself?” He was right behind her now.
“No, no,” she hurried to assure him and nearly jumped out of her skin when his hands came to rest on her upper arms.
“Did you hurt yourself?”
Fen took a shaky breath. “No, my lord.”
“Good.” He dropped his hands and picked up the peacock blue robe of his that she had worn the evening before. To her surprise, he put it on. She glimpsed the scar on his back as he swung the robe on. But what was she supposed to wear? She looked around for the clean shift Meldon had brought her. That wouldn’t be warm enough. Did he expect her to remain a-bed again today? But if so, Meldon had not lit the fire in the bedroom. When she realized his eyes were back on her, she returned to her ablutions with renewed vigor, anxious to avoid his gaze.
Lord Vawdrey retreated to the other side of the room, when he returned he had his red satin dressing robe over his arm. He placed it on the bed for her next to the clean shift. “When you’re dressed come into the adjoining chamber,” he said. “We’ll have breakfast in there.” He paused. “If you need any help-”
“No, no,” Fenella hastened to assure him as she tried to obscure the fact her already transparent shift was soaked and plastered to her chest. “I’m sure I can manage, thank you.”
He stood a moment, and then abruptly turned on his heel and strode from the room. Fen breathed out a relieved sigh and immediately dragged the wet shift over her head. She hopped over to the bed and pulled the clean one on. The only consolation she could draw was that there was precious little else she could do to humiliate herself in this man’s presence! So far he had seen her cry, vomit, and lay in his bed in a state of sweaty delirium. Giving him an unsolicited glimpse of her chubby body was probably the least of the awful things he had been exposed to! She turned her attentions to donning the scarlet dressing robe with its heavily decorated sleeves. It really was beautiful and she was surprised that he had given her this one to wear. They had done a swap from the previous evening. She hurried over the gold toggle-type fastenings down the front of the robe until her shift was concealed. Then she set about tidying her long brown hair into another long braid. It really was the best she could do without any of her hair ornaments from home. Shrugging off her less than conventional appearance, she headed for the door and into the adjoining room where she could hear male voices speaking in low tones. To her surprise, she had no sooner opened it than a black muscular form hurtled toward her.
“Bors!” she exclaimed, joyfully as her old dog made a valiant effort to act puppyish, weaving around her legs and panting happily. “I’m so pleased to see you, boy,” she murmured into his black shiny coat as she dropped to her knees to embrace him. His tail thumped heavily against the floor. Looking up she found strange two men bowing to her.
“Thank you so much for bringing him to me,” she said smiling brightly at them and guessing they must be Lord Vawdrey’s men, although they wore no badge or sigil to that effect.
“They bought some of your other personal effects also,” said Lord Vawdrey gesturing to the table where Fenella was surprised to see her leather writing case and a chest of her papers and documents.
“Oh, that is most kind!” she exclaimed. “And didn’t even occur to me,” she confessed. “I don’t suppose my clothes-?”
“Unfortunately, not,” Lord Vawdrey interrupted her. “These gentlemen were running some other errands in the area and simply dropped by Thurrold en route.”
Fen turned curious eyes back on the two men who were of middling height and dressed in plain brown. There was nothing distinguishable about them, they could have been merchants, menservants or anything at all. Fen doubted she would even recognize them if she saw them again. “Oh, I see,” she murmured. “Tell me, did my sister-in-law Orla send any message to me?” she asked looking from one to the other. To her surprise, they both looked to Lord Vawdrey rather than answer her.
“It was more of a fleeting visit to Sitchmarsh,” he said after a small pause. “I’m afraid they did not meet any of your former household.”
Fen blinked in surprise. “Was the house quite empty?” she asked in astonishment. “Where was everyone?”
Again, both men steadfastly avoided her gaze and turned to their employer.
“They met only one servant, who was paid to deliver your belongings speedily into their hands,” Lord Vawdrey said with an air of finality and turned back to dismiss them both. They handed him a small bundle of documents and with another small bow, left the room altogether.
Fen was still crouched on the floor open-mouthed when Meldon entered with a tray of breakfast foods. He did a double-take on seeing Bors and muttered something under his breath which sounded suspiciously like -‘Another mouth to feed’.
“Come and be seated, Fenella,” said her husband, pushing her belongings to the other side of the table. He pulled out the chair next to his and she joined him. Bors settled comfortably under her chair. He seemed none the worse for wear for his journey and she guessed they must have placed in some sort of cart-like conveyance for there was no way that he would have been able to walk such a distance these days. She reached down to pat his head discreetly as Meldon rattled down the dishes of fish, bread, butter and eggs. Fenella avoided the ale jug and instead tried the one next to it which was proved to be the juices of some fruit, she guessed plums. Lord Vawdrey was just placing some smoked fish on her plate when the door on the far end of the room opened and another tall, dark male entered the room, yawning loudly. He was clearly a Vawdrey and Fenella lowered her cup, realizing this must be Roland, the younger brother. He was heavier set with muscles than Oswald, but the resemblance with the height and the dark hair and eyes was striking. He checked a moment on the threshold at the sight of them seated at the table.
“Very domesticated,” he drawled.
“Fenella, this is your new brother, Roland,” said Lord Vawdrey. “Roland, this is my wife, Fenella Vawdrey.”
Fenella started to stand, but found Roland had thrown himself into a seat opposite them and wasn’t looking at her anyway. His tunic was unfastened to his waist and he needed a shave.
“A pretty state of affairs,” said Roland jeeringly looking straight at his brother. “I hope you realize the whole court’s talking of it.”
Fenella sat back in her seat with a bump. Lord Vawdrey placed the bread and butter on her plate, ignoring his brother.
“Will you have eggs?” he asked, turning to her.
“Thank you, no,” she answered, finding she had sadly lost her appetite.
He frowned. “You have a lot ahead of you today,” he reminded her. “Have some, to please me.”
Fenella opened and closed her mouth. “Very well my lord,” she said meekly. He gave a brief smile of approval and dished some onto her plate. She wondered if he would always feed her like this at meals. Ambrose certainly hadn’t. When she looked up, she found Roland staring at them. “Is she wearing your robe?” he asked with a derisive snort.