Her Bridegroom Bought and Paid For
Page 59
Konrad eyed him askance. “I rarely attend such functions.”
“True, but in light of your triumphant win …” the other trailed off.
Konrad shrugged. “I am sure there were revelers enough to fill the hall. I doubt my presence was missed.”
Farleigh stared at him. “A good many looked for you there, my lord. I was one such.”
Konrad blinked, taken aback by so plain a statement. He scratched his neck. “I am lately married,” he heard himself say in the manner of one making some sort of lame excuse. What was he doing?
Farleigh’s frown cleared in an instant, as though his words explained everything. “Congratulations, my lord! Your bride does not care for the clamor of boisterous knights, I take it, and I am sure none could blame her.” He looked suddenly wistful. “My own wooing, I confess, has been far from smooth. You have heard of Lady Constance Northcott?”
Konrad glanced about him, but there was no one in sight to stem Farleigh’s flow. “Er … no?” he said in lieu of anything else occurring to him.
“She is the most beauteous maiden in all Karadok,” Farleigh said fervently. “But she is very cultured and has many suitors.” He pulled a face. “Alas, she does not care to watch the lists.”
“Maybe you should find one that does.”
“One what?”
“Woman.”
“Oh,” Farleigh looked flummoxed. “Well, as to that …” He scratched the back of his neck. “After all, Kentigern, you said your own wife –”
“Aimee is not like that,” Konrad cut across his words. “She likes the lists. All this,” he waved a hand vaguely, “pageantry and so forth.” After all, she had worn his banner as a dress for all to see. And he had repaid her for that display of loyalty by giving the crown to another woman.
Farleigh plunked his hands on his hips and breathed out. “Where are you headed now, my lord?” he asked beseechingly. “Fain, would I have some speech with you.”
“Oh, yes?” It was not that Konrad was flattered precisely. It was more that he did not know what to do with himself this morning. Which was why, precisely half an hour later, he found himself sat in an accommodating inn looking across a table at Farleigh as the younger knight poured out his woes.
Konrad lowered his tankard and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. The ale was good. Several platters were plunked down on the tabletop before them. He pulled the nearest toward him and tucked in as Farleigh listed Lady Constance’s virtues. He let the lad speak his fill, and there was plenty on his mind. Konrad had eaten most of the beef slathered in hot yellow mustard by the time Farleigh’s words had petered out.
“It amounts to this,” Konrad said heavily, pushing his trencher away. “What does she want from life? Have you asked her?”
“Oh, I know that alright,” Farleigh answered frustratedly. “She wants music, enlightened conversation and such like.”
Konrad blanched. “You think you can give her that?”
Farleigh shrugged a moody shoulder. “I don’t know,” he mumbled into his ale cup.
Konrad found himself reminded of that gods-awful family Aimee said she had spent time with. What was their name? Highcliff? Wycliffe? “You’d have to have to invite philosophers and poets to your table for after dinner speeches,” he warned.
“Vawdrey seems to manage alright,” Farleigh mumbled mutinously.
“What’s that you say?”
“Vawdrey’s wife is one of that set. Patroness of the arts and the like. He seems happy enough with her.”
Konrad reflected on this. “Vawdrey has an affable nature,” he said after a minute. “Besides,” he added gruffly. “They – er – want the same thing. Vawdrey and his wife. To be together. That means they find a way to make it work.” Farleigh’s mouth dropped open. “It’s true,” Konrad said with surprise, for he had never really thought about it before.
“So,” Farleigh glared into his ale cup. “You mean I have to make sure the lady returns my affections?” That had not been what Konrad had meant at all, but when he opened his mouth to refute this, words failed him. “That way,” Farleigh carried on, “she won’t care about me being an uncultivated dog.” His frown cleared. “Yes, I suppose that simplifies things.”
“Does it?” Konrad gazed at him in surprise.
“If I secure her affections, then our differences won’t truly matter,” Farleigh nodded. He reached into his tunic. “Tell me, my lord, what think you of this?” He withdrew his hand and held out his palm to show something that Kentigern first took to be a coin suspended on a gold chain, but on closer inspection turned out to be a disc decorated in colored enamel.
“What is it?”
Farleigh blushed. “A token for my lady,” he explained. “See, it shows a knight, depicted in armor. I thought it might make her look favorably on me.” He directed a hopeful look in Konrad’s direction. “Do you think it might soften her heart toward me?”