"On foot. But she's been gone a while. Mayhap an hour," Eada told him.
Nodding, Hugh strode out of the castle. Willa had a head start and he had to find her quickly. Someone had tried to kill his wife before they had even consummated their marriage. Uncle Richard's worries and fears were already coming to pass. Willa's life was under threat, and Hugh didn't have any idea why.
His mouth tightening with displeasure, he headed for the stables. He would quickly hunt her down and bring her back to the castle. She obviously wasn't safe. And Hugh could hardly believe that the witch had let her wander off on her own, wolves or no wolves.
"My lord!"
Hugh slowed his step and glanced around at that call. Spotting Father Brennan rushing toward him, he stopped and tried not to appear as impatient as he felt at this delay. "Good morn, father."
Father Brennan was a little out of breath as he reached Hugh, but he was beaming. "Good morn, my lord. I am so glad to have come across you this morning. I fear yesterday was all so rushed, I did not fulfill my duties as I should have."
"Did you not?" Hugh asked politely, but his gaze was wandering toward the stables. He wished his squire was about so that he could send him ahead to ready his horse. Where was his squire anyway? He'd released the lad from duty at the feast yesterday, thinking he wished to be alone with his bride. He scowled as the memory of his wedding night rose up to plague him. Gad! Had ever a man been so beset by misfortune? A sore arse, a nasty cold, and a poisoned, puking bride.
"Nay. First you were off guarding Lady Willa. Then when the two of you arrived here, everything was so chaotic that I never managed the time to counsel you on the matter of the... er... bedding."
"The bedding?" Those words caught Hugh's attention and drew his wandering thoughts and gaze back to the priest's now slightly flushed face. "There was no bedding. My bride was poisoned."
"Aye. Lord Wynekyn informed me of the situation and I must say I see it as somewhat fortunate - not fortunate!" he amended when Hugh scowled down at him. "I did not mean fortunate, I meant... well, under the circumstances, since I had not counseled you - "
"Father," Hugh interrupted, no longer bothering to hide his impatience, "now is not the time. Willa has gone off on her own and I must find her and bring her back. She - "
"She is returned, my lord," Father Brennan blurted as Hugh started to turn away. He spun back at once.
"She is?"
"Aye. So you see, I brought this treatise." He held out a rolled up and beribboned scroll. When Hugh merely stared at it blankly, the priest undid the scroll and began to unroll it. " 'Tis De secretis mulierum and it gives advice on matters - "
"Father," Hugh interrupted again. This time his impatience was gone, replaced by mild amusement. He knew Father Brennan had good intentions, but a priest was the last person whose advice he needed on bedding his bride. Not wishing to embarrass the fellow, Hugh managed a solemn expression and patted his shoulder. "I am not an innocent, father. I have been with women before. There is no need for counsel."
"Oh, certainly, certainly." The priest nodded his head, then shook it. "But Lady Willa is not some tavern doxy. She is a young, innocent bride. The consummation of your new relationship has been sanctified by the church. Your marriage bed is sacred. You cannot simply... er... give her a tumble like some pretty milk maid. If you see what I mean?"
"Well..." Hugh paused, uncertainty creeping into his mind. He'd not considered the actual act. Well, alright, he'd considered it, but mostly from his own perspective. He had spent one brief moment wondering how she would greet his arrival in their chamber; then his thoughts had been rather full of the idea of finally sliding into her moist warmth. He hadn't considered the act from her point of view. Her pure, virginal point of view. Willa would not be a laughing tavern maid, dropping into his lap and grabbing his groin to let him know she was willing. She would be...
This new line of thought was giving him pains in his head. But Father Brennan was waiting patiently for an answer. What had the question been? Oh yes! "Nay. Of course not. I have never taken a woman's innocence."
"Just so. Which is why you are in need of counsel." He finished unrolling the scroll and moved closer, turning the parchment so that they could both read it. "De secretis mulierum is quite useful in providing instruction for marital... er... relations." A sudden squeak in his voice drew Hugh's glance from the scroll to the priest's now flushed face. The man was terribly embarrassed, but rushed gamely on, "It does advise preparing both the mind and body beforehand."
"Preparing the body?" Hugh echoed curiously. He didn't think he would have trouble with preparing his mind. His mind seemed more than ready. However, if there were special instructions on preparing the body, he would be interested in reading them. A bath perhaps... that they could share. He had a brief picture of running a damp bit of linen over Willa's sweet br**sts, her n**ples coming to life, standing up and begging him to -
"Aye. Emptying the bowels and bladder is suggested, for instance."
Hugh's erotic imaginings died abruptly and he made a grimace of distaste. That would be the church's idea of preparing.
"It also gives other detailed instructions," Father Brennan said meaningfully, recapturing the earl's wandering attention. The bit about emptying the bowels had rather lost him, but his interest perked up a bit now.
"What sort of detailed instructions?" he asked, looking over the Latin script. When the holy man didn't answer right away, Hugh raised a questioning glance to find the priest cherry red and looking mortified.
"Well, they - " he squeaked, then cleared his throat and evaded Hugh's gaze as he tried again. "They suggest 'tis necessary to... er... fondle the wife's 'lower parts' to... er... raise her body to the proper... er... heat - "
"Heat?" Hugh interrupted with surprise.
"Aye. You see women differ from men in that they are cold."
"They are?" Hugh asked with surprise. He had never noted women to be especially cold. Neither in behavior, nor to the touch.
"Aye, they are," Father Brennan assured him. "Men, by contrast, are hot."
"Really?" he asked with interest, recalling now a time or two when he'd been startled awake by a cold foot seeking his for warmth under the furs.
"Oh, aye!" Father Brennan exclaimed. "Heat is the male's essential quality. It... the man's heat creates the... excitement in the woman and through intercourse with a man, she gains that vital heat she is lacking."
"She does, does she?"
"Aye. So you see, the wife is thereby strengthened by the joining."
"Hmm," Hugh grunted, but his attention was on the treatise the priest still held open for him. He was looking for the section stating that there must be sufficient fondling of the "lower parts" to get the woman to the right temperature. He wasn't having much success. Scowling, he asked, "How do you know when she has reached the correct temperature?"
"Er... I believe it states..." the priest ran his finger over the words, then nodded, his face flushing again. "Aye. Here 'tis. She will begin to 'speak as if she were babbling.' That is when you shall know to commence with the actual - " he waved a hand vaguely - "commencing."
Hugh nodded as he read the section the man was pointing to.
"Well. I am sure that you can read this on your own. I hope you find it useful."
Hugh nodded distractedly and murmured his thanks, sensing when the priest left.
"Speak as if she were babbling," he read aloud. "Hmm."
"Good morn, my lord husband."
Hugh glanced up with alarm at that greeting. It was his errant wife, of course. Who else would call him husband? Flushing guiltily, Hugh straightened and quickly hid the treatise behind his back. "Good morn."
"What is that you were reading?" she asked curiously, leaning to the side to glimpse the scroll he held.
" 'Tis nothing," he lied.
"Nothing?" She gave a soft laugh. "It does not look like nothing, my lord. It looks like parchment with writing on it."
"Nay, 'tis just something Father Brennan gave me to read. A treatise on... the church's instruction on... confession." He winced as he spoke, thinking that he would now have to confess this lie. But it was rather embarrassing to admit that he felt he needed instruction on such a personal matter.
"Oh." Much to his relief, she appeared to have lost interest in the matter. She straightened and offered him another smile. "Well, I should leave you to it then. Good day, my lord."
"Good day." He watched her go, his gaze dropping to the sway of her h*ps as she walked away.
Becoming aware that he still held the treatise De secretis mulierum behind his back, he relaxed and brought it around to glance over it. His original intention was to reroll it and put it through his belt to be read later, but his gaze caught on a line and, instead, he found himself caught up in reading it again.
"Good morn, Hugh."
Just as before, Hugh straightened abruptly at that greeting. He stashed the parchment guiltily behind his back as he turned to face his friend. "Lucan. Good morn."
"What have you there?" Lucan asked curiously.
" 'Tis nothing," Hugh answered, then grimaced. It was a ridiculous answer when he was hiding the parchment behind his back as if it were an erotic love letter. Relaxing his stance, he brought the parchment around between them and began to roll it back up as he said, " 'Tis a treatise Father Brennan gave me... on... marital relations."
"Ah. My father's priest gave my brother just such a treatise on the night before his wedding. 'Twas full of what you could not do and when you could not do it. Let me see, as I recall you were never to indulge in marital relations on holy days, Sundays, or feast days." Lucan shook his head. "I vow once you take out all the days you cannot bed a wife, there is one day a month left to do the deed." He put a hand on Hugh's shoulder as they began to walk, and advised, "I shouldn't pay attention to that, my friend, or you shall never see children. You shall also surely go insane."
Hugh grunted in response. He suspected Lucan was thinking of another treatise altogether, but in case he wasn't, Hugh would stick to reading only the instructions on the actual bedding itself. Surely a man couldn't go to purgatory for a sin if he did not know it was one, he reasoned. And there was no way he would restrict himself to bedding Willa only once a month. Dear God, he hadn't even managed to bed her once, yet already the church was trying to limit him.
"Have you decided what you intend to do about the poisoning attempt?" Lucan asked.
Hugh grimaced. "Aye. I intend to question everyone about the meade and discover who put it in the room. But first I am going to arrange for a food taster. Nothing shall pass Willa's lips that has not first been tasted by another."
Lucan nodded at that. "The cook?"
"Nay. Alsneta hasn't the time for that. But it should be someone she cares for. It will reduce the possibility of her getting distracted and allowing anyone near the food."
His friend nodded at the wisdom of that decision, then said, "Wynekyn mentioned that Alsneta has a nephew amongst the soldiers here. Gawain. He should do nicely."
"Aye. He will. Thank you."
"You are welcome." Lucan raised an eyebrow. "Did you plan to have Baldulf guard her again?"
"Aye. But I shall need others to guard her as well. I can hardly expect the man to watch her night and day here." Hugh shook his head. The soldiers at Hillcrest had all been his uncle's men. Hugh had none of his own, other than his squire. He didn't know which were trustworthy and skilled and which weren't. He would have to trust someone. Baldulf, alone had been able to guard her at the cottage, but the castle was much bigger. "Aye. Baldulf during the day, and then two guards outside our door at night. I shall have to interview the men. See whom I can trust her with."
Lucan nodded as they walked. "Have you learned anything about her past?"
"We have a name now. Evelake." He murmured the name thoughtfully, sure he'd heard it before. He spent a moment trying to recall where he knew it from, then shook his head. "I thought I should send some men out to learn what they could about her family. Then I thought to look in Uncle Richard's room and see if I cannot find this mysterious missing letter."
"How were Wolfy and Fen?"
Willa smiled at Eada and bent to press a kiss on her withered cheek, then settled on the bench beside her before answering. "They are well enough. I worry about them being so close to the castle and village though."
Willa had found the two wolves skulking on the edge of the woods that surrounded the castle. They were far too close for her comfort.
"Did Lord Hillcrest find ye?"
"Nay. I came upon him on my way back. Was he looking for me?"
"Aye." Eada grinned. "He was distressed that ye'd wandered off on yer own. I believe he intended to reprimand ye sternly and order ye never to do so again."
Willa stared at the woman with surprise. "Nay!"
"Aye."
She bit her lip. "Odd, he did not seem distressed when I came upon him. He was reading some treatise the priest gave him."
"Hmm." They both puzzled over that briefly, then the old woman examined her face. "The walk did ye good. Ye've more color to ye now, at least. How are ye feeling?"
Willa shrugged mildly, her hand going to her stomach. "My stomach is a touch tender, but no doubt that is due to his planting the twins there last night. Other than that I am well enough."
"Planting the twins?" Eada turned an amazed expression on her. "There was no planting of twins last night. Ye were far too sick for that."
"Sick?" Willa felt confusion well up in her. "What - ?"