Free Everlasting by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

again, he hastened to assure her, “There is no need for that, my dear. The terms are acceptable as is.”
     
      Abrielle barely withheld her sigh of relief. She had no way of knowing who had cautioned the squire on the generous sum the marriage agreement would require him to bestow upon her once the vows were exchanged, not to mention the sizable fortune she’d reap upon his death. She could only conclude by Thurstan’s attempt to urge her to consider other proposals that he may have been the one to broach the feasibility of a less lucrative stipend, which in turn caused her to wonder what he expected to personally gain from it. As Desmond’s only relative, did he want more of the wealth that was now promised to her family?
     
      If Desmond had failed to consider all aspects of the agreement beforehand, then she could only believe that he was not as astute as aman of properties should be. After all, his wealth had come to him through the efforts of others and was nothing he had actually earned through prudent deeds or foreign ventures as a soldier of the realm. Perhaps he was wont to let wealth sift fairly quickly through his fingers.
     
      “Uncle, may I speak with you for a moment?” Thurstan requested in a muted tone, looking gravely concerned. “I truly believe the agreement needs to be clarified for your benefit. You need to reconsider—”
     
      “I’ve made up my mind,” Desmond stated resolutely, punctuating his statement with a quick, slashing gesture. “No changes will be necessary. You may go.”
     
      The lean features of the younger man stiffened noticeably as he was curtly dismissed. Beneath lowering brows, the yellow eyes seemed to shoot flinty shards at the older man. Abrielle could hardly mistake Thurstan’s resentment at being brushed aside so callously.
     
      Thurstan stalked back along the drawbridge to the inner courtyard, dismissed as if he were a servant, and his hand itched to draw his sword and be done with his uncle once and for all. How dare the man be the second de Marlé to deny Thurstan his proper inheritance! Weldon had promised such to him, and then died before having the chance to change his will. And now Desmond was freely throwing money at some chit of a girl, when it only took a real man to show a woman what she was worth. Thurstan vowed silently that he was not through manipulating his uncle.
     
      If Desmond was aware of the younger man’s exasperation, he gave no indication that he cared one way or the other, directing his attention to Abrielle. “Have I told you how sublimely lovely you are, my dear? Definitely the most winsome lady I’ve ever seen.”
     
      Abrielle felt her stomach convulse. “Please, Desmond, such extravagant praises embarrass me. To be sure, I feel so unworthy.”
     
      “Oh, but you are worthy, my dear. Infinitely so! In all my travels I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman.”
     
      Abrielle feigned a coyly skeptical laugh. “Then I shall have to question the extent of your travels, sir, for I fear the distance may have been extremely limited.”
     
      Desmond was wont to silently agree, but would never have openly admitted it. His half brother had been the clever, ambitious one in the family, venturing as a crusader far beyond his homeland, not only returning a valiant hero but also with greater wealth and fame than when he had left, no doubt the difference a devoted mother could make in the life of her offspring. From what Desmond had overheard from neighbors in his youth, Weldon’s mother had been an imposing lady whose lineage had reaffirmed and strengthened the dignity and honor of her husband’s house. Not so the wily chambermaid who had sought by devious methods to assuage the father’s grief over his wife’s mysterious death, the result of a witch’s potion that had later been used again, only in smaller portions, to muddle the mind of the father.
     
      By such schemes, his mother had brought about the