Amaury groaned beneath his breath, liking how mischievous her smile became. “I vowed to meet him and will be on time. He is our guest and my father’s friend.”
“Ride safely then, and hasten home.”
“I will return with the count and his party by nightfall,” he promised, kissing her once more. “I swear it to you.”
“And I will ensure that a welcome is prepared,” she said, stretching across the pillows again with contentment.
“You test my resolve, my Isabella,” he said, letting her see his admiration.
She laughed at him and shooed him away with her hand, so changed from the lady he had met at the altar that Amaury could scarce believe it.
He kissed her again, then followed Philip, knowing his contentment was evident.
Roland awaited him with some impatience, his destrier saddled and his squire waiting. Philip and Fraser had made all the preparations and stood waiting for Amaury beside the horses. “It seems you find contentment in your uncommon match,” his brother said, reaching for his reins.
“I do and you might take a lesson from that.”
“A lesson?”
“That satisfaction can be found when two people seek it together. Even an arranged match can become a happy one.”
“Even a match wrought of necessity?”
“Ours was not thus,” Amaury said. “It was a union between neighbors, and one that has created an alliance.”
Roland raised his brows but said no more.
The small company was gathered with speed. Amaury conferred with Luc and Thierry who were remaining at Montvieux, confirming his plans for the day, then they rode out. He set a good pace on the road toward Sant-André, and the company formed around him, Roland on his left hand. They spoke of trivialities, then the circumstance at Marnis could be avoided no longer.
“Too many deaths,” Roland said with a grim shake of his head. “First Father, then Denis, then the Lord de Marnis, and now very nearly you. Who is the fiend responsible?”
“There could be more than one villain,” Amaury said. “The Lord de Marnis, for example, certainly earned the ire of the Lady de Marnis in choosing to put her aside for another.”
“Aye, and Lady Faydide is not one to keep her own counsel, much less to remain silent while she lost an advantage,” Roland acknowledged. “It would not surprise me if she was behind his death.” He cleared his throat. “Though it could also have been your lady responsible, for she was the one who claimed his signet ring, and with speed.”
“Nay, not Isabella,” Amaury said with resolve.
“Though she also was to be sent away against her will,” Roland noted.
Amaury had to make the obvious argument. “It could have been either of us, determined to avenge Father’s death.”
“Do you think Gaultier de Marnis responsible for that deed?”
“He had the treasury of Montvieux in his possession, and the very fact that he offered me the seal in exchange for wedding his daughter indicates that he held that, as well.”
“Does your wife have it? Does she know where it is?”
Amaury shook his head in reply to both queries.
“He might simply have lied, implying he held the seal but knowing it to be lost.”
“Aye.”
Roland flung out a hand. “And how could we have killed Gaultier? We were here when he died.”
“Someone could have acted at our behest.”
“Edmund,” Roland uttered the name through his teeth. “For what incentive? The man has no loyalty to us, despite Father’s kindness to him.”