Free Rebellious Love by Maura Seger

around the manor so that she could evaluate the few changes that had been made and decide what else needed to be done. By the time Curran emerged from his chamber, Verony had set several women to weaving on the new loom and had helped set up the tanning press, after first determining that he had already approved such action. She looked forward to telling him all that had been accomplished, but was prevented from doing so by his foul mood.
    Though he joined his men for supper, a meal Verony shared with them, Curran neither spoke nor looked at her. He sat morosely at the head of the table, picking at his food, and refused the offer of wine with a snarl. No sooner were the dishes re-
    moved than he went back upstairs, leaving his men to glance at each other uneasily.
    Verony did not linger after him. Hurt by what she regarded as his coldness, she told herself he could be as childish as he liked. She didn't care. Going off to bed, she tossed and turned for a while. But the upheavals of the last few days quickly caught up with her and she slept soundly through the night, enjoying dreams she would later blush to remember.

CHAPTER 5
    " T he north field was sown in barley last year, my lord," the village elder explained. "So it lies fallow. The south field is seeded for wheat, may it please your lordship."
    Curran nodded absently. He bent to pick up a clod of soil, pressing it between his fingers. Dark and moist, it crumbled easily. Satisfied, he nodded at the man who watched him so anxiously. "The land is well cared for."
    "Aye, lord, we have done our best. All manure is gathered for fertilizer and we bring marl from the south to spread twice a year. That was the Lady Verony's doing. She understood why it was good for the crops and arranged the shipments."
    "The Lady Verony," Curran noted drily, "must have kept very busy."
    "Aye, sir. From the earliest age, she worked day in and day out, dawn to dusk. Always cheerful and wise, always helping us. There isn't a man, woman or child on this land who doesn't hold her in the greatest esteem. May the good Lord bless and watch over her."
    Though the words were said courteously enough, Curran did not miss the hint of warning. He would hardly be able to, considering that he had been receiving essentially the same message all day. In the hours he spent walking and riding over his land, he was informed over and over that the Lady Verony had made this improvement and that refinement . . . had arranged for these tools and those supplies . . . had advised on ways to improve the yield of crops, the fertility of livestock, even the health of the peasants themselves.
    "Got us to whitewash the cottages, she did," the elder explained, pointing at the neat array of huts clustered just beyond the fields. "Couldn't see the sense of it myself. But when it was done, and everything swept out and kept tidy, there were less vermin. After a while, it began to seem that fewer people got sick. When she convinced us to carry the waste further from the houses and wash the clothes more often, there was less fever. 'Course, one thing might not have anything to do with the other."
    His tone made it clear he believed otherwise. The Lady Verony was sage and trustworthy. Because of her, there was less illness and fewer people died. Children who would never have seen their first year lived to the joy of their parents. Daring her father's rage, she had worked hard to improve the life of her people, and they loved her for it.
    The lady, Curran thought grimly, inspired strong feelings. Not the least of which was admiration. Her management of the estate would have merited great respect under any circumstances. But considering that she had at every step to combat her father's callousness and brutality, her achievements were nothing less than remarkable. He had expected to find barren fields, exhausted land and sullen serfs who would mulishly oppose him at every turn. Instead, he found the promise of good crops and hard-working