Free Susan Spencer Paul by The Heiress Bride Page B

popped a grape into his mouth and leaned back in his chair. “I couldn’t believe it! When I think of all the things we did together, I wonder at how you ever got ordained. Why, if the Church only knew about all the women you and I used to—”
    “Hugh!” Hugo chided. “That was long, long ago. I’m a man of God now and perfectly content to be so. Of course—” he looked at Rosaleen, somewhat embarrassed “—after my behavior this afternoon it may be hard for you to believe that, but it is true, nonetheless.”
    “Your behavior this afternoon was perfectly understandable,” Rosaleen assured him, spearing a chunk of roasted lamb with her eating dagger. “Hugh deserved a good beating after leaving you as he did. In fact, you should probably beat him once more before we leave tomorrow day, just to make certain he’s thoroughly punished.”
    “Thank you so much, sweeting,” Hugh muttered.
    “Of course,” she continued, “he enjoys fighting, so it might be best to simply leave him be and let him suffer. But that is beside the point. Now, you must start right at the beginning, Father, and tell us everything. I greatly enjoy particulars.”
    What she didn’t add was that, since it had been ten years since the brothers had last seen each other, Hugh would be hungry for the whole story of his twin’s life during thoseyears. Hugh was far too proud to ask for such information, of course, and Hugo was still too angry with his brother’s abandonment to give it. None of that, however, was going to stop Rosaleen. She had been trained in the art of government since she was a child, and had learned her lessons well. The daughter of an earl needed to know such things as how to pleasantly bring conversation at table about, and how to direct its course. Men, she had learned very young, were much easier to manipulate in this manner than women, and Hugh and Hugo Baldwin were easier than most, since their desire to be reacquainted far outweighed their uneasiness.
    “Very well, my lady, though I do warn you it is most dull.”
    Having made his disclaimer, Hugo launched into his tale. When he had finished, Rosaleen deftly brought Hugh to the point where he told a little of his own story. By the time their meal was over, Rosaleen was more than satisfied with the start the brothers had made in healing the breach in their relationship.
    Rosaleen had long since left the table in favor of a comfortable chair beside the fire, leaving the two men to sit side by side, Hugh facing away from the table, his long legs stretched out in front of him, Hugo sitting at the table, his hands folded upon the tabletop.
    Sipping a goblet of good red wine such as only the Church could provide, she watched the brothers as they talked, their heads turned toward each other, their manners relaxed. It was easy to see the deep bond they shared, though perhaps neither of them would realize it. They spoke in low tones, sometimes smiling and sometimes laughing, but always with a deep current of understanding that Rosaleen assumed twins must share, no matter how many years they’d been apart.
    Watching them, Rosaleen felt a stab of jealousy. She had been beloved of her parents, but she had never had a sibling and had always felt the lack. Her mother had had a difficult time conceiving and bearing her; when Rosaleen was seven, her mother’s second pregnancy had proved fatal. Her father had been a good and loving parent and had been the center of her life until his untimely death of the pox, yet Rosaleen had missed having a brother or sister. A brother, especially, would have been welcome, for he would have been the next Earl of Siere after her father’s death. But there was no brother, and the responsibility of the earldom was in her hands alone. Thinking on it, she vowed anew that she would get herself to London, to the king and to freedom.
    In the midst of their conversation, Hugh lifted one hand and gently stroked his brother’s halo-shaven hair.