The man who had just entered dismissed his servants. He had a deep, resonant laugh, and a voice to go with it. “Is this the greeting I deserve? I beg your pardon, cousin.” But he did not seem inclined to leave. Liath was furiously embarrassed; after eight years alone with Da, she was not used to a constant audience—although Sanglant clearly was. “You have a bride hidden in here somewhere, I hear. I caught a glimpse of her when you rode in, and I confess myself eager to be introduced to her now.”
Sanglant took his time getting dressed and did not move out of the other man’s way. “Let there be no confusion. She is my wife.”
“Did I say otherwise? Surely, cousin, you do not think I intend to steal her from you as I might if she were only your concubine. Ah, but what’s this?”
She slipped out of bed, straightened her tunic, and stood. Duke Conrad, in the flesh, was rather like Sanglant made shorter and broader. He had the same kind of leashed vigor as Henry, and the powerful hands of a man who is used to gripping spear and shield. He stepped forward, took her hand, and turned it over to show the lighter palm, then held it against his own. His skin had a different tone; where hers was more golden-brown like sun burned into skin, his had a more olive-yellow tint. “Who are your kin?”
She extricated her hand from his grip. He was barely taller than she was, but she felt slight beside him. “My father’s cousin is the lady of Bodfeld. I don’t know my mother’s kin.”
He misunderstood her. “A Gyptos whore, no doubt. That would explain it. How comes she to you, cousin?” He had an open face, quick to laughter.
“God have brought her to me,” retorted Sanglant, looking annoyed.
“They whom God have joined, let no man or woman—even the regnant—tear asunder.” Quick to anger as well, that face. He boiled with it, a flush staining his neck and the tendons standing out. “Ride out with me, Sanglant. I offer you a place in Wayland.”
“Ride out with you?”
Conrad spat in anger. “Henry refused my suit. He will not let me marry Theophanu.” He swore colorfully, describing what Henry could in his opinion do with his horses and his hounds and whatever sheep he might come across in the course of his travels. Liath blushed. “I see no reason to stay feasting and drinking with a man who does not trust me to marry his own daughter! What do you say?”