Hugh waved the chop-bone at the room. 'There's no one to hear us and I am not such a numbskull, brother, as to speak it outside. Anyway, what surety is the king offering for this loan?'
'He promises to grant me, and the others who support him in this, wealthy estates taken from the rebel barons, when he defeats Philip,' Osborn said morosely.
'If he defeats Philip! You hoped for such things before when you hunted down the rebels for John after he captured the castle of Montauban, and all you managed to persuade John to give you for your trouble was this piss-poor manor. You should have demanded more. Our father would have done.'
Osborn threw back his chair and leapt up. Without warning, he struck Hugh hard across his cheek with the back of his hand.
Hugh reeled back, grunting in pain, and his hand reached for his dagger before he even realized what he was doing. It was only with supreme effort that he stopped himself drawing it. He turned away, breathing hard and seething with fury.
After a moment he felt a hand grasp his shoulder. 'Forgive me, little brother. I am weary. I should not. . .'
You should not have done what, brother? Hugh thought savagely. Hit me? Treated me like a child and fool for years? Kept me penniless like a base-born villein?
Hugh painted a smile on his face and turned back to Osborn with a respectful incline of his head. 'I'm the one who should ask forgiveness of you, brother. I spoke foolishly. As you say, I am a numbskull.'
It took every grain of self-control he could muster to utter those words in anything approaching a civil tone. But Osborn did not appear to hear the crackle of ice in his voice and merely nodded as if he thought all was mended between them.
Fearful of letting his rage explode, Hugh rapidly searched for a diversion. 'I'm surprised that John made no mention of Raoul.'
Osborn sank down again at the table, without looking at him. 'I have not told him yet.' He held up a hand as if to forestall a protest. 'I thought it wisest not to do so until Raoul's killer has been apprehended. John sent Raoul here to look for a traitor, and His Majesty might take it ill if one of his men came to harm while under my protection. Besides, John has too many cares just now to burden him with another. Time enough to tell him once I've got Raoul's killer by the heels. I'll go to Norwich myself and kick that feckless sheriff into action.'
Hugh felt as if God and all the saints of heaven were beaming down on him. The band of fur around his waist seemed to tighten and throb against his skin, even as he felt that shudder of pleasure rising between his legs.
'No, brother, no, you have enough to concern you over this matter of raising the money for John. Let me go to Norwich. As you say, I am useless when it comes to tending to estate matters. But I can be of service to you in Norwich. Let me go.' He watched Osborn's face eagerly, willing him to agree.
Osborn hesitated. 'There is something you should know. Raoul was in Norwich not on John's service, but mine. I'd heard that my runaway villein had taken refuge there. I sent Raoul to see if he could find her. This traitor, whoever he is, may have seized the opportunity to follow him and killed him for fear of discovery, or else someone killed him to stop him finding the girl. But either way, little brother, I caution you to take great care.'
Hugh smiled. 'Have no fear on my part. Unlike Raoul, I know how to defend myself, and I swear I will return not only with his killer, but with your runaway villein too. I won't rest until I have tracked that bitch down and run her back here tied to a horse's tail, as a gift to you.'
Hugh accepted his elder brother's warm embrace as if all had indeed been forgiven between them. But beneath his smile, his rage throbbed as fiercely as his cheek. The blow was neither forgiven nor forgotten. He swore he'd make his brother regret this latest insult in a long line of humiliations he'd suffered at his hands. Before the year was out he'd make Osborn remember each and every one of them.