But there was no use butting heads with her. He didn’t want their last few hours together to be those of conflict.
“Shall I wait for you in the common room while you wash?” he asked.
Corisande looked at him, seeing that he wouldn’t look at her. He was looking at his feet. He sounded subdued, an unusual mood for him, and she knew it was because they’d ventured onto the subject of battle again. It was the only thing that dampened the man’s emotions when it came to her. She was about to say something to him, but the tavernkeeper’s wife rushed in with a copper pot and a stool. She was followed by two serving women lugging buckets of steaming water. Corisande stood back as the woman set the copper pot next to the hearth and put the stool in it as the serving women dumped the water into it.
“I’m sorry that I can’t offer ye a proper bath,” the woman said as the water splashed in. “All we have is the smaller bath that ye sit in.”
Corisande smiled. “That is perfectly fine,” she said. “Thank you for bringing it.”
The woman nodded nervously, eyeing Cole as she shooed the serving women out of the chamber. Water dripped from their spent buckets as they fled, leaving a drippy path behind them. Cole continued to stand in the doorway, still looking at his feet, and Corisande put her hands on her hips.
“Well?” she said.
He looked up at her. “Well what?”
“Are you going to let me wash with the door open?”
He looked around as if to realize what she was saying before pushing himself off the doorjamb.
“I will leave you to your bath,” he said. “I do not mean to rush you, but my father will soon be joining us.”
Without a word, Corisande went to him, pulled him into the chamber, and shut the door. She then directed him over to a table next to the hearth, pushing him down into a chair.
“Sit,” she said. “You can keep me company while I bathe.”
He frowned. “I will do no such thing,” he said indignantly, standing up. “I did not procure this chamber so that I could participate in clandestine activities with you, so I will see you down in the common room.”
He was already moving for the door, but her soft voice stopped him.
“Stay with me,” she begged softly. “Cole… I do not wish to be morbid, but you are facing battle tomorrow. If… if something terrible happens, at least give me a memory of tonight to reflect on. At least give me the illusion of something sweet and simple, just for tonight, to keep with me always. I would be… grateful.”
He paused with his hand on the door latch before turning to look at her. It was against his better judgment because he knew that once he looked at her, he would not be able to leave. And he needed to leave.
He lifted his eyebrows.
“If your brothers catch me here while you are bathing, I will have worse things than a battle to worry about,” he said sternly. “Four seasoned knights doing battle against each other is like nothing you’ve ever seen, Cori. They will try to kill me and I will have to defend myself.”
“They will not try to kill you.”
“I will be forced to seriously disable all of them and we need them for tomorrow.”
“Then go,” she said, turning her back on him and going to the corner of the room where a privacy screen was propped against the wall. It was worn, three lightweight panels of wood that had once been painted vibrant colors, and she pulled it away from the wall. “Go down to the common room while I spend this time alone. You must do what you feel is right, of course.”
He rolled his eyes. “I do not want to go, but…”
“I want you to go. Get out.”
He shook his head faintly, trying not to chuckle because she was becoming petulant and dramatic. “Confound it, Woman, stop being so cantankerous,” he said, stepping back into the chamber and shutting the door. “There. I am here. I am starting to think this is a plot for your brothers to murder me.”
“If there was a plot, you would already be dead,” she said crisply.
“Says you.”
Corisande made a face at him as she propped up the privacy screen between the tub and the rest of the chamber. It started to fall over but Cole grabbed it swiftly, setting it up properly as she turned for her satchel behind her. She pulled out soap that smelled of lavender, a comb, and a sleeping shift. On the other side of the screen, Cole sat down again, removing his gloves and removing the belt that held his broadsword. Both ended up on the bed as he propped his feet up.
A sigh of relaxation escaped his lips.
“Well?” he said. “What do you wish to speak of now that I am here, in this very dangerous position?”
Corisande fought off a grin as she began to pull off her clothing. The apron and broadcloth dress went up and over the privacy screen, hanging there.
“We can speak of many things,” she said. “For example, where shall we live once we are married?”
“Foulburn Castle,” he said promptly, looking around to see if there was anything to drink in the chamber. “It is my garrison, a property my father has given to me, as his heir. My father is Baron Blackadder, you know. The king gave him that title. There is a courtesy title that comes with it of Lord Lambden, which is mine, though I do not use it. But if you like, I shall start using it and you can be Lady Lambden.”
“Lady Lambden,” she said, rolling it over on her tongue. “That sounds very nice. Tell me of Foulburn. Is it large?”
“Large enough,” he said, realizing that he could see her silhouette through the screen because the wood was so thin. With the fire behind her, he could see every move. “It sits on a rise overlooking a small river called Foulburn, hence the name. My father keeps about a hundred men there, as a garrison, so the Scots will not try to take it over.”
“Odd that you should not remain there since it is your property,” she said. “Does your father demand you remain with him at Pelinom?”
“Nay,” Cole said. “I have the freedom to choose where I serve.”
“So you live and serve at Pelinom and leave your own property vacant?”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. He knew she wasn’t being nosy, simply asking normal and natural questions of a man she would marry, but the subject of what he actually did with his time had come up. She still didn’t know that he served The Marshal, so he thought that now was perhaps the time for total truth.
As Lady de Velt, or Lady Lambden, it would be her right to know.
“There is a reason for that, love,” he said, lowering his voice. “What I am to tell you must not leave this room.”
He could see her through the screen as she sat on the stool and began to pour water on herself. “Of course, Cole,” she said. “I would never repeat what you tell me in confidence.”
“Good,” he said. “It is important you do not. Ever. If you do, my very life could be in danger, but as my wife, you have a right to know.”
“Know what?”
“I am an agent for William Marshal.”
She stopped pouring. He could see her outline as she sat there, pondering what he’d said and trying to make sense of it. “What does that mean, exactly?” she finally asked.