Free Fire Song by Catherine Coulter Page A

as something else he was loath to examine. He shrugged. It was none of his affair. He said aloud, “Nay, my lord, do not waste your ill-humor on me.” He paused a moment, then added, “there is but one thing that bothers me.”
    “I suppose I must ask you what it is, else you’ll taunt me with your useless guile.”
    Guy gave him his sunny smile. Their relationship was more in the manner of an indulgent older brother toward a younger sibling, not liege lord to one of his knights. “Why did you agree to this match when it so obviously displeases you?”
    Graelam had asked himself the same question many times during the past weeks. “A man must have sons,” he said finally. “Now, let me meet my sons’ mother.”
    * * *
    Kassia walked slowly through the apple orchard, her face lifted to the bright sun overhead. She smelled the sweet scent of the camellias, hydrangeas, and rhododendrons she herself had planted, and heard the comforting drone of the bees in the hives just beyond the orchard. Hugging her arms around her body, feeling the sun warming her bones, she knew the joy of simply being alive.
    Her favorite gown of yellow silk still hung loose, but it didn’t bother her. She smiled fondly at the thought of her father, ever watching her with worried eyes, encouraging her to do naught but rest and eat. She looked up to see her nurse, Etta, whose ample figure was now walking purposefully toward her, a bowl of something doubtless very nourishing and equally distasteful held in her hands.
    “You should be resting, mistress,” Etta said without preamble. “Here, drink this.”
    “Another of your concoctions,” Kassia said, but obligingly downed the thick beef broth. “I need to prune my fig trees,” she said thoughtfully, handing the bowl back to Etta.
    “Fig trees!” Etta said on a mighty sigh.
    Kassia cocked her head in question. “I am well enough to do just as I please now. Come, Etta, you know you enjoy my delicious figs.”
    “Aye, my baby. ’Tis not your figs that are on my mind at the moment.”
    “What is on your mind?” she asked.
    “Your father. Another messenger arrived a while ago.”
    “Another messenger? I did not know there was even a first, much less a second!”
    “Aye,” Etta said. “He does not look happy.”
    “Then I shall go to him and see what is wrong.”
    “But you should rest!”
    “Etta, you and Father are treating me like a downy chick with no sense. I am feeling much stronger, and if I keep eating all the food you stuff in my mouth, I shall be fat as my favorite goose.”
    “Hurrumph,” Etta said, and followed her mistress back to the keep.
    Maurice had dismissed the messenger and sat staring blindly in front of him. He didn’t realize he was wringing his hands until he felt his daughter’s fingers lightly touch his shoulder.
    “Father,” Kassia said softly. “What troubles you?”
    He managed to wipe the worry from his face and smiled at her, drawing her into his lap. She was still so slight, weighing no more than a child. But her vivid hazel eyes were bright again with glowing health, and her beautiful hair now capped her small face in soft, loose curls. He thought of the message and pulled her tightly against him. Time had run out.
    He felt her small, firm breasts pressing against him, reminding him yet again that she was no longer a little girl. She was a woman and a wife. He drew in a deep breath and pulled back from her so he could see her face.
    “You are feeling well, ma chère ?” he asked, avoiding the issue.
    “Quite well, Father. Much better, I gather, than you are. Now, what about this messenger? Etta also let slip that this was the second one. Is it Geoffrey?”
    Kassia could see the beginnings of deception in her father’s eyes and said hurriedly, “Nay, Father. I am no longer at death’s door. You must tell me what troubles you. Please, I feel useless when you treat me like a witless child who must be protected and cosseted.”
    He knew