father hadn't argued. He'd simply ordered the tapestries rolled up and put away, telling Evelinde she could take them with her when she married and moved to her own home.
It was a shame she hadn't been able to bring them, Evelinde thought sadly. They would have looked lovely on the wall here and would have brightened the place. Then there were the cushions she and her mother had sewn of a night. Those would have made the chairs by the fire more inviting. And there were—
Evelinde cut off these thoughts, knowing it was useless to pine for things she could not have.
She could always make more, Evelinde told herself as she pushed through the keep doors and stepped out onto the stairs leading into the bailey. Of course, she couldn't make a tapestry herself. She had neither the skill nor the time for such an effort, let alone a loom on which to perform the task. Tapestry weavers were always male, and it could take two months for two men to weave just a square foot of a tapestry. That was why they were so dear to purchase and why it was such a shame her husband hadn't given her the chance to bring them, or anything else with her.
Scowling, Evelinde caught up the skirts of the voluminous blue gown she wore and started down the stairs, pushing these concerns aside to join the other little irritations she had against her new husband at the moment. They did seem to be building up in her mind. She already had a healthy list of things to hold against the man, and they'd barely been married more than three days.
Evelinde paused to peer around the bailey as she stepped off the stairs. It was nearly as empty as the great hall had been, with just a few women walking this way and that on some endeavor or other. Had she not spoken to Biddy, Evelinde would have wondered about that, but she had and knew exactly where to find the men. The paddock.
She recalled the direction in which Fergus had taken the horses the night before and—supposing the paddock must be near the stables—turned that way, sure she'd find it easily enough. All she need do was look for men and listen for their voices. It was her experience that men got loud and unruly when "celebrating," and she had no doubt she'd hear them long before she reached them.
Evelinde found herself glancing curiously inside the stables as she walked by. She saw row after row of stalls running its length. From the glimpse she got, it looked as well kept as Mac kept the d'Aumesbery stables.
Lady would have been well cared for here, she thought, then quickly pushed the thought away. She didn't wish to approach her husband angry, for it rarely achieved much except to cause bad feelings. It was always best to approach a matter calmly and while both parties were in a good mood.
To her mind, her husband should be in a good mood right now. She'd certainly felt pretty cheerful after consummating the marriage, at least until all these little problems had cropped up… like not having anything of her own here.
Cullen, of course, wouldn't have this issue, and was celebrating, so should still be cheerful, Evelinde decided. It seemed the perfect time to approach him on the subject of what he wished her to do as his wife. At least that was what she told herself. And it wasn't that it was untrue, but, really, the conversation could have waited until that evening after the sup. However, Evelinde found herself eager to see her new husband, and she was sure he would be happy to see her, too. No doubt he would smile, and open his arms, welcoming her to him, then he would kiss her until her toes curled and…
Evelinde brought her daydream to a halt as she heard a shout of laughter. As expected, she'd heard the men before spotting them. Stopping to look around, she found she'd reached a series of paddocks that ran up to the outer wall. The first enclosure was empty, and she moved closer to the wooden fence that surrounded it, leaning against a post as she peered across to a small stretch of grassy land where the men were gathered along the rails of the next paddock, watching some activity inside.
Her gaze slid over the mass of bodies, searching for her husband as another roar of laughter went