Free The Holding - Book 1 in The Medieval Knights Series by Claudia Dain

let it discourage him; he had seen the fire in her cheeks. Her body coursed with blood, just as the rest of God's creations, and he was confident that he could make it rise again, with sweeter results.
    "Supper will be called, my lord," Cathryn said meekly, then proceeded them out of the chapel and down the stairs, obviously fully expecting them to follow. They did. But William did not do so without a scowl. His wife was ever quick with her declarations and even quicker to expect his obedience; it was what happened when a woman was not wed at a younger age. But she was not too old to learn; nor was he too old to teach her.
    Supper had been laid: wine, plover, bread, and cheese—light, but pleasant. What was less pleasant was the atmosphere.
    With the waning of the day, the servants had become more anxious than they had been upon his arrival. It was a curious response. Why the tension now? Now, after he had been welcomed by the lady and was now her husband, after the bridal banquet, meager as it was, had been eaten, and the mass read? Yet he could feel their tension, their... fear, it almost was, and he could feel their eyes upon him as he supped. Looking up, he caught John the Steward staring at him. The servant glanced quickly away, but the sense of being watched would not leave him.
    William trusted his senses.
    Did they worry that he would rage over the lack of dishes at his table? He did not hold them accountable. The poverty and struggle of Greneforde was obvious, though he did not want them to know that it was so easy to read. All men had pride. It was most likely that they feared he would slash their pride over the care they had given to his new home. Any words he offered on the matter would only defeat his purpose. He could only wait until they knew him better; then they would know his mind and be at ease.
    Now, Cathryn... she showed as much anxiety as a cloudless day. Would that she had a little more of their emotion and they had less. He watched her as she ate lightly of the trencher they shared. For a woman who chimed the dinner hour as she did, she ate remarkably little. A small bite of cheese washed down with a great gulp of wine. A mouthful of bread and a healthy sip of wine. The longer he watched, the more he concluded that what she ate served only to bob around like gulls on the great ocean of wine she had swallowed. But she was a beauty. She also appeared to hold her wine well, sluggish wine that it was, and so full of grit that he used his teeth to strain away the worst of it.
    When Cathryn had drunk her fourth cup, William could no longer ignore the uneasy atmosphere in the hall. Knowing that he would get no satisfaction from his wife, he turned to the man whose company she sought above all others, the man whose loyalty to him was beyond question: Father Godfrey.
    "I ask you plainly," he began softly, "and I will have a plain answer: what has Cathryn said to you?"
    Godfrey, in earnest prayer since Cathryn's third cup of wine, turned stricken eyes to William. This was not a conversation he wanted to have; in fact, he had been praying that his effort in the chapel had bridged the gap between them. That William sensed the tension surrounding them did not surprise him; William was too astute a warrior to miss it. That Cathryn was losing herself in wine surprised him, for she had so far displayed courageous self-control; yet, knowing now the whole tale, he should rather be surprised at her calmness. These circular thoughts rolled like troubled snakes in his mind so that he could only stare at William in something like shock.
    "Does she plan how to worm her way out of the marriage before it is consummated?" William asked under his breath, his eyes lit with suppressed fire.
    Relieved that he could answer truthfully, Godfrey answered, "Nay, William. She is not planning anything to endanger the marriage. Lady Cathryn is well set to obey the king's command. I put the three questions to her and she answered well; she