Chapter 11 More than Adequate
Usual disclaimer: The characters in this chapter do not belong to me, but rather to Bioware, EA, and others. The source information on the Fereldan uprising was taken from The Stolen Throne, by David Gaider, and the background information on Teagan's childhood was taken from the Dragon Age Wikia.
Teagan Guerrin, Arl of Redcliffe, and Bella, the mayor of Redcliffe village, were the picture of decorum as he escorted her into his Denerim estate, past the household staff, who exchanged knowing glances and nods after they passed. Neither of them had spoken much along the way partly because their minds were on the death of the Orlesian. But Bella was also afraid she might say the wrong thing, and he would be reminded of her common birth, and Teagan was afraid that he would say the wrong thing and make himself appear arrogant or foolish.
Once they reached her chamber, Teagan bowed politely and handed Bella her pack. He hoped she didn't notice the beads of sweat that erupted on his forehead as their fingers brushed when she took it. But she smiled her sweet smile, a smile that made him feel weak in the knees. He flushed, feeling his lips stretching until he was grinning back at her like a love-struck boy, and not a man nearing middle age. With a kiss to her hand and a parting promise of "I'll be counting the moments until we meet again," Teagan turned and strolled off towards his chambers, casually, in case she was watching him.
As he reached the corner, however, he couldn't resist glancing back at her, hoping she was watching him. She was indeed, and rewarded him with an embarrassed blush and another sweet smile as their eyes met. It occurred to him how brilliant her eyes were, and how perfectly shaped her full lips were, and he longed to run back to kiss them. He stepped around the corner and leaned against the wall, murmuring her name, then flushed scarlet and looked around. Relieved to see that no one had heard him, he made haste to his own chambers to wash off the smell of horse and sweat, and to change.
Bella closed the door once he was out of sight. Leaning against it, she shut her eyes and let out a loud sigh of relief, though she missed him already. As comfortable as she had become with all manner of people after years of serving the public in the tavern, and as much as she had felt comfortable conversing with the arl on a number of subjects, lately he had made her feel nervous as well.
She opened her eyes and saw the steaming bath waiting for her, though she felt guilty, knowing the amount of work required of the servants, to haul in the hot water and tub. Opening her coin pouch, she set a proper tip for them on a table near the fire, and then added a bit more. That done, she wasted no time in stripping off the breeches, tunic, quilted doublet, and boots she had worn to the hunt, folding them neatly so the maid who collected them to launder wouldn't think her lazy or careless.
But before she allowed herself to indulge in the bath, she opened the doors to the wardrobe, then swore under her breath as she regarded the gowns she had brought with her with a critical eye. She had packed practical traveling clothing, such as what she had worn to the hunt this morning, and had only bought the formal gown she had worn to the royal ball once she had arrived, at his housekeeper's suggestion, as she had helped her unpack. She looked over the two gowns that she had brought with her. It wasn't like she had many more, and these were brought to wear here because they were the best of the lot. They were more than fine for Redcliffe, and when she set out she hadn't particularly cared if they were up to the standards of Denerim, and still didn't. But for a private supper with the arl? "Oh, Andraste's smoking knickers!," she muttered as she tried to decide on one.
The trade delegation had only planned to be in Denerim for a week, and while the rest had purchased enough clothing and other items to fill a wagon, Bella was far too practical to spend her hard-earned coin on clothing that would be relegated to the closet, too fancy for everyday wear back home. She had already been thinking that she could have the ball gown remade by a seamstress into at least two more practical garments, and she thought there might be enough fabric left over to make a curtain for her bedroom window.
For a moment she considered just slipping on her nightgown and a robe, but dismissed the idea as she held it up. She hadn't noticed until now that the linen had become grayed with age. She needed to soak it in lemon juice and water then hang it in the sun to bleach when she got home, though it was wearing thin, and really should be cast into the rag box soon. Maybe it wouldn't be so noticeable by candlelight though. She frowned as she held it up. The gown was also quite plain, with just a bit of narrow lace at the neck and trimming the sleeves. It was good enough for sleeping in alone, but not something she would want a lover to see her in for the first time, not that one had in years. Had she really had this nightgown for that long? Maker, had it been that long since she broke it off with Stefan?
Though strangers and newcomers to Redcliffe often assumed, based on her occupation, that smiles and flattering words would be all it took to charm their way into free drinks first and then into her bed, Bella wasted no time in dashing cold water on their hopes, sometimes literally. It had become something of a spectator sport in her tavern, waiting to see how long her patience lasted before her sharp tongue lashed out, or worse. She had decided back when Lloyd hired her and she had to put him in his place immediately, that everyone would know her body wasn't on the menu, and that no one would be invited home with her unless he cared enough to spend time with her somewhere other than in bed. Then once she and the prince became the owners, she took even more care that she be seen as respectable, as much for her royal partner's sake as her own.
It wasn't that she hadn't had lovers, though she thanked the Maker not so many that they could fill a wagon, like she overheard her barmaids whispering about another, with a growing belly and no idea who was the father. Bella had only had two lovers since the Blight, Stefan, and Caerdwyll before him, though during their time together, she hadn't allowed either of them to move into her little flat behind the tavern, saving that, if not herself, for marriage. She was up early and worked into the night most of the time despite having hired two new barmaids and two war widows with children to support, as part time cooks. So their courting of her by necessity had taken place either in the tavern, or out on the lake shore, where her idle time was spent casting her line or her net at her da's old fishing spot. Being on the water was one thing she always found relaxing, whether she caught anything or not.
Both had informed her after a semi-domestic period that they expected her to quit working in her tavern if they were married. Caerdwyll had assumed that he would take her place behind the bar, though he allowed she could still work in the back, keeping the books, and brewing the ale, acknowledging her skill at both. Stefan hadn't even thought she should do that much, having expressed his opinion that it wasn't respectable, and besides, he thought she would be too busy raising his children. Both times they had helped her decide that she liked the freedom that being her own woman gave her more than she liked the idea of being the wife of either, even if the trade-off was sleeping alone, with only Lloyd's grumpy old ginger cat for company. So she cut them loose to find a woman who was more accommodating to their desires. It was like fishing in Lake Callenhad. If you hauled in one that was too small, you threw it back to give it time to grow up and cast your net or line again for a bigger fish.
Not that she saw Teagan as that big fish, and blushed at the very thought! For the first time, it occurred to her that was exactly what people would think...but that was even assuming...but that wasn't the case at all! She hadn't thought of him as a potential lover at all in the years since he became the Arl of Redcliffe. Before that, she hadn't really known him except as a handsome visitor who would drop by the tavern with his escort when he was in town visiting his brother. He was well-mannered but very reserved. He had always left a generous tip and bought a round of drinks for the house before they left though, taking time to apologize to her or the other barmaid for the extra work.
Then Teagan had impressed everyone in Redcliffe by the way he took command during the crisis of the undead plague, and returned to help his brother with the rebuilding after the battle of Denerim, since so many able-bodied citizens had been killed. After the crown installed Teagan as the new arl, and then she was elected mayor, Bella got to know him better during regular meetings over the status of the village. At first he still seemed aloof, but it quickly dawned on her he was just shy. She soon discovered he had a sly humor she appreciated, and so encouraged whenever she could. In turn, he relaxed around her, and before long became a friend and confidant. Why someone who seemed to have everything―looks, money, and fame―could be so shy was a mystery to her, but she wasn't the sort to pry.
They recently spent a few hours fly fishing together; when he had been out walking along the cliffs and stumbled upon her spot, she had invited him to stay and share her simple lunch. He shared his more ample lunch and a bottle of wine, and they ended up talking for hours about subjects completely unrelated to the needs of the village. She approved of the way he tied his lures (and more, that he even knew how), and of the strength of his cast. He had flushed and replied that the same muscles developed in sword training could be put to better use, and she agreed, though it wasn't until later, alone in her bed thinking about their day, that it occurred to her what a fine form his martial training had given him.
There had been more time spent together during the journey to Denerim. Like most of the villagers, Bella had no reason to own horse, so she accepted his offer to travel inside his coach along with other members of the trade delegation. But the others had made different travel arrangements, even her friend Zerlinda, the young dwarven woman that Prince had recruited in Orzammar to take over Redcliffe's general store. The young dwarf had thoroughly adapted to surface life after getting over her initial fear of 'all that sky,' and she had explained to Bella that she and her young son would rather see the fresh spring green of the countryside and feel the crisp air, and even the rain, than be cooped up in the coach. She and the other members of the delegation elected to ride alongside the drivers of the wagons that accompanied them, or on top of the arl's coach, sitting with his coachmen.
It was strange though, almost as if...she smacked her forehead as it dawned on her that her neighbors had conspired to throw the two of them together. "Maker's breath! Of course they did!" It got her thinking about the many recent emergencies that had required a visit by her up to the castle or brought him down to the village, few of which turned out to be emergencies at all. Her initial annoyance at their sticking their noses in her business was mollified by her acknowledgment that they only did so because they thought they were acting in her, and the arl's, best interest. It showed how much they cared.
But was it what she wanted, honestly? Why did she even have to think about that? He was what she considered a good friend. Lately too she had been awakened from dreams involving a night of passion with him. The first time she was too embarrassed to look into his eyes when they next met, and she had been forced to make up a lie when he asked her what was wrong.
But she was wasting time. She turned away from the closet and eased herself into the tub before it got cold. She sighed again, this time in relief as she slipped in to her chin and the warm water began to soothe the aches from her body. She washed, then closed her eyes for only a moment but immediately drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
It seemed like it had only been a moment when Bella was startled by the sound of a woman loudly clearing her throat. Her eyes popped open, and she sat up, and covered herself with her arms. The head housekeeper, Mrs. Gallagher, was standing near the tub. She was a small, straight-backed, elderly woman, whose iron-gray hair was always bound in a tight, no-nonsense bun on top of her head. With her were two young elven women, one holding a covered tray, and the other setting the table near the fire. Bella was shocked that she had been sleeping so soundly she hadn't even heard them come in!
Mrs. Gallagher stood with her hands folded primly in front of her as she spoke. "His Excellency sent me to tell you he will be arriving shortly. I came to help you dress." In fact, the arl had sent his housekeeper to see if Bella was ready to receive him, anxious that he not intrude upon her. She looked over her shoulder at the elves, not wanting to give them more gossip about. "If you two have finished, you may leave." The elves curtsied to her and hurried to finish setting up the table, one stopping to scoop the tip Bella had left and happily showing it to the other. As soon as they closed the door, she walked over and held up a towel for her.
"Thank you." Bella eased herself out of the tub, and looked away until she had wrapped herself in the towel. Bella glanced at the window. "Maker's breath, how long was I sleeping?"
"Not too long, my dear. However, His Excellency will be arriving presently. Let's get you dressed, shall we? There's no time for your hair, but I can pin it up if you like." She walked briskly to the wardrobe and tsked under her breath, muttering "Well, they are good enough for Redcliffe," then took out the sky blue gown that matched the doublet her arl had chosen.
"Might I suggest this one? The color will bring out your eyes." She turned back towards Bella. He was right, Bella did have brilliant eyes. She thought her pretty, and also thought that she could be a real beauty if she took the time to be. The fact that she didn't, and didn't appear to be trying to seduce her lord, told her much about Bella, and Mrs. Gallagher approved.
As soon as she turned her back, Bella pulled on her small clothes and a clean chemise, noting that those needed to be replaced too. She ran her fingers though her thick strawberry blond hair, which hung damp to her shoulders. She rarely gave it much thought, other than chopping it off when it got too long and heavy, or tying it up in a cloth to keep it out of her way when she was in the cellar brewing ale or cleaning the tavern. Men praised the color and the way it softly curled, but she thought most men were silly at most times. It was what it was. She would snort and mutter that if she shaved it all off, they would praise the roundness of her head and the shape of her earlobes, and the silly men agreed. Most men were silly, but not him. There was nothing silly about him.
"I was going to dry it in front of the fire before I go to sleep." She added, as if she felt she needed to explain, "It's too warm to wear a nightcap, but I hate going to sleep with a wet head."
She nodded. "Perfectly understandable, my dear. You don't want to catch cold. Let me comb it out for you then." Mrs. Gallagher knew enough about women to know that some would want to wear their hair down as an invitation for him to touch it, but Bella didn't seem that calculating. She held up the dress so Bella could slip it over her head, though it laced in front, so she really didn't need her help dressing. Nevertheless, she had her arl's orders, and she understood the unspoken reason behind his request—he desperately wanted her opinion of this young woman, though she could see in his eyes he had already made up his mind. This was more of a confirmation.
From what she had learned, Bella didn't appear to be after his money and title. She had money enough, though she didn't spend it freely. She had a reputation in Redcliffe of being both hard working and frugal, but she also was known for having a soft spot for women left on their own with children to raise. She was certainly pretty enough to have had her choice of the available village men, yet though she was approaching spinsterhood, she wasn't desperate to land a husband. Mrs. Gallagher wasn't sure what to make of that. Perhaps like her lord, she had had a bad experience that had put her off marriage.
Looking at Bella's hair, she didn't think there was time enough do much other than comb it out before he arrived. She agreed with him that it was a fine color, and the dampness was bringing out the curl. "I'll help you wash it tomorrow."
"Are noblewomen that helpless?" Bella smiled at the old woman's hearty chuckle in response. To her that the thought of her even becoming one of them made her throat tight, and made her want to grab her things and run out the door while she still could escape. But she thought about his gentle eyes, bright smile, and hearty laugh. She turned to Mrs. Gallagher and held her arms out to the sides so she could lace the dress. "Please don't think me ungrateful. I appreciate your help."
Mrs. Gallagher smiled kindly. "That's why I'm here, my dear."
Bella sat down on a padded stool, and the older woman stepped up behind her with a comb. Making conversation, she asked, "Have you served the arl a long time?" Bella knew she had been brought over from his bann in Rainesfere because the previous head housekeeper, and her assistants, had been among the first killed when the undead attacks started.
She nodded as she parted Bella's hair. "My entire life has been spent in service to the Guerrins. I began serving at Castle Redcliffe before I was married, back before the war, when the country was filled with those bloody Orlesians. I remember like it was yesterday when the last of that lot was sent packing from Redcliffe. It was a sight. The lads lined up on the cliffs and along the path cursing them, while the women threw rotting fish. I was acquainted with your grandma. She was there with your ma."
Bella turned her head slightly so she could see her, and Mrs. Gallagher put her hands on either side of her jaw and turned it back, which reminded Bella of the way her mother used to comb her hair. "Aye? I never really knew my grandmas. But from the time I was a babe my ma and da used to tell us about that day the last Orlesians was finally tossed out, on the anniversary of that day."
Mrs. Gallagher chuckled loudly. "He was one of those lads shaking their fists and wagging their bare arses at the Orlesians, I wager."
Bella chuckled too. "Aye, I've heard that story. I didn't know you were from Redcliffe. I thought you came from Rainesfere." Like many who served in the castle, Mrs. Gallagher rarely came into the village, so seeing her on Bella's official visits to the castle was the only way she knew her at all.
"No, Redcliffe, born and raised." The old woman paused and sighed, looking up and remembering those days and the husband she had lost too soon. "My husband and I, Maker rest his soul, had left to join up with Queen Moira and Prince Maric's revolt, him servin' with the Redcliffe brigade beside Arl Teagan's father Arl Rendorn and the Lady Rowan, and me helpin' out in camp with the cooking, washing, and tendin' the wounded. I was there when the arl and so many others were killed at West Hill. My love lived though, and we decided that he survived so we could be married, and we were, as soon as we helped the others do what we could for the dead."
Bella turned her head again. "My uncle was near killed at West Hill too. He thought he only lived to tell the tale because he was surrounded by bodies, and the Orlesians didn't take the time to loot the dead and kill any still living, they was so intent on finding King Maric. He said the Maker protected him, and gave him and the other survivors strength to get back to Gwaren to tell the tale. So he joined the Chantry as a brother after the war."
Mrs. Gallagher smoothed a tangle. "Aye, I remember when my Tiernan and the rest of the survivors straggled in and brought that terrible news about the ambush. I wanted to scream, but there was too much work to be done. I might have helped patch your uncle up!" She added wistfully, "Teagan was a little boy then. We thought he and Eamon should know their father was gone to the Maker's side, and we also feared his sister had been taken captive by the Orlesians, because no one had found her or King Maric among the dead. No one knew the Maker had shown them an escape path into the Deep Roads."
Bella knew the story. "I've heard that with their ma gone, Teagan and Eamon had been sent to stay with their kin in the Free Marches when his father and sister joined the true queen."
Mrs. Gallagher nodded. "That's partially right, though Eamon was old enough that he didn't go willingly. You see, the old arl had gotten word from a friend that the lads was to be honored with an invitation to Mehgren's court to be squired there. It's also common in Orlais to invite family members to visit, and then hold them as a friendly hostage to keep the rest of their family in line, or else their family knows it's to the dungeon with 'em. That's what the old arl knew Mehgren was up to, so before the messenger arrived, he sent his boys away to safety, which left him free to join Queen Moira, since the arling was being overrun with Orlesians anyway."
Bella didn't try to hide her disdain. "I haven't met many Orlesians, but I haven't been impressed by the ones I have." Those had been travelers for the most part, and Stefan had been from Orlais too. One of the things that had really bothered her about him was that he seemed to think he knew more about everything, and was better than everyone else around him.
She thought about Teagan and tried to imagine being separated from her family as a child. She said wistfully, "It must have been very hard on Teagan...and his brother too, not knowing their big sister's fate, and not even able to see their father properly burned at the lake."
Mrs. Gallagher replied sadly, "Would that we could have seen our dead burned proper. We had to settle for a mass burning out on the battlefield, and even that much was done at risk of attack by the Orlesians. It wasn't for another three years that King Maric finally took Denerim. The first thing Lady Rowan did was to send for her brothers to come home in time for her wedding. Eamon was just old enough by then to take his father's place. After Teagan came of age, he was given Rainesfere by his brother." She dabbed her eyes and added proudly, "That was my and my late husband's big promotion, me to be put in charge of the house and staff, and him to get the grounds in order, but he told us if anyone could do it, we could."
A question nagged at Bella, like an obnoxious drunk in the tavern making rude faces at her, that Bella tried to ignore, but not for long. It was always better to deal with it directly. "Teagan has never married...I know some say it was because he had always been in love with Queen Anora, both before and after she was queen. He would fight in her honor at the tournaments."
Mrs. Gallagher paused from her work. "There's some truth to that, but she never hid the fact that she only considered him a friend. She knew she would become queen one day, even before Prince Cailan realized it." Mrs. Gallagher had wondered how much gossip about Teagan she had heard. But then the arl was popular with his subjects, as he had been in Rainesfere, and respect tended to cut down on gossip.
She wasn't sure how much she should bring up either. It was his business, and it happened so long ago. She was terribly fond of him, and in turn she was treated by her arl as if they were kin, but she still never forgot her place. Yet because she did care for him, she wanted him to be as happy as she and her husband had been. Could this woman be the one to give him that?
"There have been overtures over the years from not only Fereldan noble families, but from several in the Marches. The Bann of White Hills even brought a son on a visit, guessing that was the reason Teagan had never married." She shook out Bella's hair to bring out her curl. "Most don't remember that there was a girl when he was young, thankfully." Bella turned again to look at her. "That ended badly, and I think it left him...scarred and bitter for years."
Bella's breath caught for a moment before she recovered. "Oh." She wasn't sure how much more she wanted to hear. On the other hand her heart ached hearing of an injury to him, even if it was years ago.
Mrs. Gallagher nodded. "She belonged to a family they had known from Starkhaven."
Bella cursed herself for her bluntness as she replied, "What happened? Did she die?" She had seen enough of tragedy in her life, even left over from the war before she was born, to understand how death could have affected him.
Mrs. Gallagher set the comb down and met her eyes. "Now this is between you and me. I'm not one to spread gossip about my arl. I have known him since he was born, and he's dear to me, like a favorite nephew, even if he is my arl." She sat on the chair beside Bella. "I'm only telling you because...from what I've observed, I suspect you are a good friend of his as well and will keep this to yourself."
Bella blushed deeply, which Mrs. Gallagher approved of. "I...he...I mean, yes, he has become a dear friend to me, and...yes, I would like very much to be more than his friend." There, she had said it.
Mrs. Gallagher patted her hand, knowing very well they hadn't gone beyond the friendship stage in their budding relationship. "Say no more, my dear. He was young, as I said. He and his brother used to go back to the Marches for the Grand Tourney. It happens every year and is quite the thing there, even though the tournament itself only lasts a day. The winner gains the title 'champion' and little else but the honor and acclaim. But there are bets won and lost, balls, feasts, and hunting for days before and after. It's an event where the gentry can see and be seen, and a good many matches are made there. Arl Eamon went to compete, and Teagan served as his squire. Their old friends were at the Grand Ball that night, and introduced a pretty relation, Giselle, whose family had come from Val Foret.
"Giselle...Orlesian?" Bella wondered aloud what it was about the Guerrin men that attracted them to Orlesian women.
Mrs. Gallagher had always wondered the same thing, when there were so many fine Fereldan women to choose from. "By birth, yes, but her family was in exile in the Marches after some scandal that had embarrassed them at court. Apparently the Marches are full of exiled Orlesians too because Nevarra won't have 'em."
She looked around before she continued, as if confirming they were alone. "Now mind you, this is based on what I saw and heard myself, and also what I heard from others. The girl and some of her kin and friends came to visit us after the lads returned home. A whole flock of them, as lazy and helpless a pack of lay-abouts you've never seen, eating the arl's food and drinking his wine, which of course was never good enough for their refined gullets. We had our work cut out for us tending to that lot for months!"
Bella scowled in disgust. "Ugh, I remember 'em when I was a small girl, poking around the village on their way to the Chantry in their feathers and silks and silly shoes, poking their noses into everyone's business and complainin' about the mud and the smells."
"That's right, and you probably recall we had a bigger pack invade when Arl Eamon married Isolde, though that lot didn't stay long, thank the Maker. At any rate, Teagan was quite taken with that Giselle woman, and she seemed to be interested in him too. They became close..."
Bella blushed again, and the old woman nodded and blushed herself to confirm what she had implied. She continued, "I was waiting after breakfast one morning until they had finished to send the elves in to clear, and overheard her telling him that another man, who had been rejected by her, had sought revenge by telling terrible lies about her and her family, trying to stir up more trouble so they could never go home, unless she paid him to go away. Teagan offered to marry her, and give her a new home. That was before he was formally given Rainesfere, but his brother had said it was his, so he knew they would have a place to live."
Bella felt a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, knowing where this was going. "She didn't accept his proposal, did she."
Mrs. Gallagher shook her head. "No, she told him he was very generous, and she would love to marry him, but the house in Rainesfere wasn't fit to be lived in yet, and anyway, she could not without the approval of her father, who she said was of a mind to send her to the Chantry to become a sister. She also said that she couldn't be married anyway until he paid off his debts. I suspected somethin' was up right then. But Teagan was so taken with her, that he offered her some of the money her father needed, and promised more as soon as he could get it. She accepted, and went home the next day to tell him the good news."
"But her father didn't give his approval, did he. How long did she make excuses?" Bella couldn't help herself from wanting to hear more, even though in the back of her mind she knew she should be ashamed of herself for digging into his past.
The old woman wrapped her arms around herself, as if chilled by telling the story. "She was gone for months, only returning when he had written that he had more money to lend her. She would send letters between visits promising her father was close to making a decision. How he longed for those! She led him around by the nose like that for over three years, poor lad. While he waited, he threw himself into restoring Rainsfere so he would have a proper home to offer her, learning from my Tiernan how to do much of the work himself since he could no longer afford as many workers. He also learned to plow his fields, got up on the roofs to mend broken tiles, and became quite a stonemason by the time his lands were prosperous enough that he could afford to hire more help."
Bella mused as she listened that the servants seemed to overhear quite a bit. The thought was unsettling, and it was something she would be mindful of. Yet she couldn't help herself from encouraging the old woman to go on even as she tried not to think of Teagan stripped to the waist, muscles straining while laying stone.
Mrs. Gallagher leaned closer. "One day Eamon sent a letter saying he had sprained his ankle, and suggesting Teagan go to the Grand Tourney to compete and represent the family, but also to surprise her there, rather than wait for her to come back to him. Teagan thought that was a splendid idea and began packing at once, and left that night so he would make it in time."
Bella held her chin in her hand as she thought about that. "Arl Eamon knew or suspected something was amiss is my guess."
She nodded. "That was always my thought too. Teagan took my husband along, serving as both squire and manservant. He won not only champion, but also the chivalry award. But they left the next morning, and he said hardly a word on the way back, only sending my Tiernan with a hastily written note to his brother when they got back to Ferelden. He stayed to his rooms when he wasn't out working on the stone wall around the manor, even taking his meals there, when he ate at all. He didn't want to talk even to me, so I reluctantly left him to work out his misery on the stone.
Bella knew what it was to use hard work as a palliative for pain and loss. "Something bad must have happened for him to leave so quickly. Did she finally reject him then?"
The old woman sighed. "It was far worse than that. Eamon arrived with Tiernan a few days later, despite his hurt ankle. I wasn't eavesdropping, mind you, but I was worried about him, and he was terribly upset, raising his voice at times."
"No, of course. Sometimes you can't help but overhear something you wish you hadn't."
Mrs. Gallagher nodded at the truth of that. "I heard Teagan tell him that he hadn't been able to find her. The night of the Grand Ball he had been taking the air on a balcony. He overheard two women talking below mention his name, and hers. One of the women had told the other that Giselle left as soon as she found out he was there, leaving her poor maid to pack her things and follow. They laughed about how close she came to being caught by his surprise appearance, and how she had said it was just as well, she had gotten as much out of the Fereldan bumpkin as she thought she could. She thought she was far too beautiful to settle for a minor Fereldan bann and a mere manor house when she could catch another with a better title and even a castle, and the two of them agreed. But the worst part was that Giselle had added insult to injury by calling him inadequate...in the bedroom."
"Poor Teagan! How humiliating!" Bella's heart ached for him. It didn't surprise her that Giselle was so ruthless, and she knew scheming women weren't limited to the gentry. "Hearing how that wench took advantage of his kindness and generous nature makes me want to find her and slap her silly, no matter how many years has passed!"
Mrs. Gallagher patted her hand. "You and me both, my dear. I had it in mind to find out where she was staying when we went with him to the next tourney, though I don't know what I would have done if I had found her. Spit in her food, perhaps, or give her a good hard slap if I got close enough. But she made a point of staying far away from The Marches after that, and within two years married some count from Jader old enough to be her grandfather. From what I heard from the other servants, my lord wasn't the only man she had trifled with."
Bella wrapped her arms around herself. "Poor Teagan. I hope her venom didn't spread and harm his reputation. I know what an evil poison gossip can be."
"Sadly, it did, for a while at least. But he ignored the gossip and laughter behind his back, held his head up, and returned the next year to defend his title. He won again, though he would have nothing to do with anyone who had been in her circle. Still, enough people had heard the story, that for years after one opportunist after another went after him, thinking him a fool, though most were careful to hide their true nature. I take pride in having saved him from more than one gold digger over the years, and also a few who were as nasty as harpies to the servants when he wasn't around. He has always said that he could judge a person's character by how he or she treated those beneath him, so I always served him best by letting him know what I had seen and heard when he wasn't present."
Bella nodded in understanding. "And what do you think of me?"
Mrs. Gallagher arched her eyebrow. This young woman was an open book, with nothing hidden in the back cover. She was outspoken, honest, and deserved an honest answer. "You're a bit rough around the edges, my dear, but nothing that can't be smoothed out with help. Besides, you're quite refreshing compared to most of the gentry I have had to deal with. What's more important, I think you can make each other happy. You have a sadness about you that others don't see, but I do."
She stood and smirked at Bella's dumbfounded expression. "Now I should be on my way, my lady. I've taken up enough of your time, and I don't doubt but that my arl has worn a rut in the hallway floor pacing, waiting for me to leave."
Bella clasped her hands as she stood and looked towards the door. "Is he really? Now he's making me nervous again!"
Mrs. Gallagher paused, her hand on the doorknob. "Does he? He told me he's rarely felt as relaxed with a woman as he is when he's with you. The only other one is the queen, so you're in good company." She curtsied and quickly slipped out the door, hoping the lavender and rose water she had sprinkled on her sheets wouldn't be too obvious, and she said a quick prayer that it would be appreciated by both of them.
Bella poured herself a goblet of wine. She gulped it half of it down, then refilled the goblet and filled his too, while she waited, wondering if he and Mrs. Gallagher were talking about her. As she was lifting the covers off the dishes on the table to see what had been brought, someone rapped on her chamber door. Her heart caught in her throat, and she froze momentarily, then dropped the lid she was holding. She swore under her breath and nearly ran to the door and opened it, too quickly, she thought, but it was done. There he was, in a shiny blue doublet that made his gray eyes look blue. He had taken the time to shave, and she stayed her hand from touching his smooth cheek.
Instead, she took a deep breath and opened the door wider. "Arl Teagan! Come in!" She felt foolish inviting him into a room in his own house, but he beamed at her as she stepped aside.
"Bella." He gazed at her, noting that she wore the blue dress that almost matched his doublet. What a pair they would make if they went out to The Gnarled Noble tonight. He hoped they wouldn't though, and he tried not to think about untying the lacing up the front of the dress, and hoping his fingers wouldn't fumble if he did, as he took her hand and kissed it. "Just Teagan, please."
She shivered at the way he breathed her name then kissed her hand. He seemed reluctant to let it go, and she hoped his kisses would continue up her arm and beyond. She closed the door with her other hand then turned towards the table. "Are you hungry, my...Teagan?"
Refusing to relinquish her hand, he led her across the room. "Famished." He was, but he also wanted more than anything to get this meal out of the way so they had time to talk. He had taken a generous drink from the bizarre gift of a nearly empty flask the prince had sent him, along with a note that read 'courage,' and it was working. Suddenly all he wanted to do was talk despite his hunger. He blushed a moment later as he realized he had said that aloud. He produced the flask from his belt pouch and handed it to her nervously. "Would you like a drink? It's a very good brandy Prince Nigel sent over, though there was little of it left." He hoped she didn't want to talk about fishing, or she might discover that what little he knew, he had learned from two of the Redcliffe guards after he found out it was her favorite pastime and arranged to stumble upon her in her favorite spot. He was still amazed that he pulled that off.
She smiled up at him as she took the flask and swirled it, while wondering what her partner was up to. She took a drink and handed the now empty flask back to him. "That is good. Real top stuff there, from Antiva. I keep a bottle around for when he visits." She was about to sit at the small round table, but realized he had pulled out a chair for her and blushed as she moved to the other side sat down. "We can do both. But please, no talking about the village or the price of lake trout or the spring wheat crop."
He chuckled as he sat down. "Or whether Granny Murdock should keep her window shades down, or fishing either then. I don't give two figs about crop prices at the moment. I only want to know everything about you, my lady." He motioned to the covered dishes, indicating she should serve herself first. Normally he was too reserved to speak his mind like that, but at least he hadn't said he wanted to run his fingers through her damp curls, which he longed to do. Then he heard himself saying as his hand hovered in the air near her face, "Your hair...it's...won't you catch cold?"
She filled her plate, and then his, hoping that was right. Or should she have let him serve himself? "Oh, I'll dry it in front of the fire later."
He tensed, looking into her eyes to see if that was an invitation. She was looking down at her food, however, frowning in concentration at the forks. No, not an invitation, simply an off-hand remark, and he sympathized with the poor woman, whose hand shook as she tried to remember which one to use. "That impromptu picnic at the lake was fun, wasn't it? Why don't we have a picnic on the carpet in front of the fire, and we can eat, talk, and dry your hair at the same time." He stood, picked up one of the forks and his goblet and plate, and waited for her to do the same.
She sighed in relief as she copied his movements. "It really was fun, and it's too bad I didn't invite you to share the fish I caught. I had a dream about that." She almost bit her tongue after she spoke, and hoped he didn't notice or wouldn't ask about the dream, so she wouldn't have to lie. She didn't think she could lie right now, but she didn't want him to think her wanton. She nevertheless found herself wishing her dream had come true as she seated herself on the thick rug in front of the fire, watching him. Inadequate. She felt the urge again to find Giselle and do something, like tell her what she thought of her, or slap her silly. That Orlesian wench probably wouldn't know a good lover if he tapped her on the shoulder.
They concentrated on their supper, though they couldn't take their eyes off one another as they ate. They were both acutely aware that they were sitting maddeningly close. He ate quickly just until his hunger was sated and watched her while she ate, sipping his wine. He observed, "We haven't talked much, but I don't want to distract while you're trying to eat."
Bella set her fork down. "I'm finished." A cloud passed across her pretty face for a moment, and then she said, "No, I would like to finish my chicken. The sauce is delicious. I bet the cook used a whole pound of butter! Do you eat like this all the time?" She flushed scarlet and concluded, "You go ahead and talk about whatever you would like, and I'll listen. Have you read all those books in your library?" She concentrated on her plate before she said anything else silly, sopping up the sauce with a piece of bread.
He laughed, glad that she gave him a topic. He had been devoting himself to learning all he could about fishing. Then he was reminded of going fishing with his mother's cousin, whom he and his brother had stayed with when he was a boy, so he told her about those days. He had almost forgotten, and now he didn't feel like so much of a fraud. After talking for a while, he realized she had set her plate aside, so he broke off his story. She had turned, sitting on her knees with her arms raised, separating the last wet stands. Watching her, he couldn't help but notice how her lithe body and small but firm breasts were on display, though he could tell by her expression that she was completely unaware. Without thinking about it, he reached over and touched her hair. "It's nearly dry."
Bella gasped in surprise, but she didn't draw back. "Yes, nearly."
He quickly withdrew his hand. "Forgive me! I had no right. I don't know what came over me!"
She cursed herself for overreacting. "There's nothing to forgive, you just surprised me is all. Truth be told, I liked it." She blushed again. "I'm not wanton, but I...you..." She studied him then reached up and mussed the hair on his forehead. "There, we're even."
Teagan threw his head back and laughed. "We are at that!" He grew serious and took her hand. "I don't think you wanton, Bella. I'm the wanton one. I want nothing more at this moment than to take you in my arms and kiss you." He paled and let go of her hand as she gasped. "Forgive me! I don't know why I said that! What must you think of me!"
She took a deep breath to steady herself and looked down at the floor. "I want nothing more either. But I don't want you to think I give my affections lightly." She met his eyes, lifted her hand, and touched his smooth cheek above his neat beard. This time he gasped, then put his arms around her and pulled her into a kiss. She drew back to look into his eyes, then returned a soft but lingering kiss.
This time he broke away and took her face in hands. "Bella, please believe that I am not toying with you for my own needs. I was planning to ask you this night to marry me. I think I've fallen in love with you, and I hope you will feel the same way about me in time."
She put her hands over his. "I think I do too, Teagan. Are you?"
He frowned as he considered her question. "Am I what?" And then he flushed as he figured out what she meant. "Silly of me. I was, and I am. I even have a ring. It was my grandmother's. I'm not saying this because I want to make love to you, though I do more than anything. Will you?" He reached into his belt pouch and withdrew a platinum ring with a deep blue stone.
She stood then offered him her hand. After he stood, she took his hands in hers. "You're not one to trifle with a woman's heart. You're too good, and too honest for that. I will, Teagan."
He wrapped her up in his arms in an embrace that lifted her off the ground, then set her down gently and gave her another kiss. "You've made me so happy! It's settled then. Shall we be married here, or wait until we return to Redcliffe? I'd rather not wait, but it's up to you." The fear that she would change her mind lurked in the back of his. He thanked the Maker that he didn't accidentally express that.
Bella had the same fear, that if she didn't act now, he would think her too common in time, or worse, that she would begin to find fault, as she always did. The men she had known before hadn't been that bad. She could see now that those relationships had ended because of a fear she couldn't name. Yet what good was the freedom she valued so highly, if the price was a life of loneliness, living chaste as a Chantry sister. "Could we, in the morning? Do you need the queen's permission first?"
He closed his eyes and pulled her tightly to him, his chin resting on her forehead, then let her go and slipped the ring on her finger. "I must, but it is a formality. I can write a brief letter tonight. She likes you, I can tell, and she may even honor us by attending, if it can be arranged on such short notice. Princess Leanora will be disappointed, but she will find another."
Bella chuckled then kissed him. "A pretty girl like her? Ten years and she'll be beating the suitors off with a stick, or her father will be for sure." They both laughed at that. After another kiss she added, "I'd like the rest of the delegation to be there. Zerlinda can stand with me since I don't have any kin here, and your brother for you."
Teagan sighed and stepped back. "You're right. I should send a messenger to him with a note tonight. There's much to do. As much as I still want to carry you to your bed, perhaps it's best if we wait..."
Bella tsked at him. "And neither of us has got wedding clothes either, and there are arrangements to be made, flowers and food to be got."
Teagan sighed. "You're right. We're rushing things, aren't we?"
Bella shook her head. "Teagan Guerrin, I don't care about any of those things, and I don't need an expensive spectacle. That fancy ball gown is fine. We don't need a huge feast, do we? There's two bakers I noticed close by where someone can get cakes, and a flower seller in the market. How long will it take to write a quick note—'getting married at noon, see you then.' See how easy that is?"
Teagan chuckled, though he was taken aback by how quickly she dealt with what he saw as obstacles. It occurred to him that with some training, she would make an excellent arlessa, who would have no problem standing in for him when he was away. "Noon, is it then?" He laughed and swept her up in his arms, and she put her arms around his neck. "I love that you're so practical, but we must have a cake to serve our guests though they may be few, and I insist on getting you flowers. Mrs. G can arrange those for us. For that matter, it's not late, and I'm an early riser. I think sending my notes can safely wait until the morning. Very well, my love, this night is ours."
A few hours later, Bella lay beside Teagan, who was in a sound sleep, his left arm around her, holding her to him. She sighed happily as she stretched out her arm to look at the ring again. The fear that her life was changing inexorably still nagged at her. She would have to give up her duties as mayor, for one thing. However, the more she thought about that, the less it bothered her. A bigger concern was her tavern, but she had to admit she had a staff she could trust to run it for her. She had her friends in the village she would miss, but if she had it her way, the two of them would make regular visits to their village.
Teagan murmured something, and she turned and snuggled closer against his body, put her arm around him, and kissed him on his cheek. It had been too long since she had felt a man's skin warming her own. Inadequate, indeed. She thought he had been more than adequate, especially the second time. Her toes still tingled.