Authors: Shari Anton
Marian rose from her chair, struck again by the resemblance between Stephen and his mother. Raven hair. Olive skin. Classic features. Only the eye color differed. And expression. Where Stephen tended to smile, his mother leaned to austerity.
Ardith grinned. “Lady Ursula, did you read my mind, then? Is the gown one of Christina’s?”
“As are the boots,” Ursula answered. “Stephen told me of Lady Marian’s plight. Judging by my quick glimpse of her before she came up with you, I thought Marian and our Christina might be of a size.”
For me
. Marian felt her cheeks go pink.
“I had the same thought.” Ardith took the gown and held it up. “I believe we are right about the size. What think you, Marian?”
Stephen shouldn’t have meddled, should
never
have bothered his mother on her account. She needed no gown. If she had, however, the beautiful light-blue linen might fit. A pretty color, more lighthearted than the browns and grays she’d been wearing lately.
“I thank you both for your thoughtfulness, however, ’tis not necessary.”
Lady Ursula’s brow scrunched in confusion. “Stephen said you endured a mishap on the road, that your belongings suffered. He worried you had nothing suitable to wear for evening meal. Was he mistaken?”
She’d brought no garment along suitable for a meal within Wilmont’s grand great hall because she didn’t plan to mingle with the family or their guests. Stephen wouldn’t have known that, however. Had he guessed?
“Well, nay, but I would not deprive another of her gown for my convenience. The girls and I will retire to the tent and take our supper from the supplies we brought along.”
Ardith’s smile never faltered. “’Tis kind of you to think of the gown’s owner, but all of our ladies have gowns aplenty, so you do not deprive Christina. Truly, there is no reason for you to eat alone when you can do so in company. Afterward, mayhap you and I can continue our talk.”
While Ardith fed the baby, they’d talked about many things, mostly about their children, and touched on the subject of Lyssa’s headaches. ’Twas tempting to accept, yet there were other reasons for declining to sup in the hall, none of which she could explain to Ardith or Ursula.
“I fear the girls have nothing suitable to wear, either. And both will tire soon from the day’s journey. I would hate to have them disrupt—”
Ardith waved a dismissing hand. “Daymon and Everart have their supper up here. The children take nooning with us, but with so many guests about, by supper have need to escape all the attention. The girls could eat up here with the boys, with a nursemaid to watch over them.”
Then the girls wouldn’t be among people who might
shun them, or notice their black hair matched that of Stephen and his mother. Too, tonight might be her only chance to talk further with Ardith. Still, the girls feelings must also be considered. Marian took the few steps necessary to speak softly to her hostess.
“Last night’s incident frightened the girls,” she told Ardith. “They have been a scarce few feet from my side all day. I fear they would be upset.”
With a thoughtful expression, Ardith glanced at the children. “Aye, I see your worry. If they agree, however, a couple of hours of separation might be good for all of you.”
Marian saw the sense in it, too. And, damn, but the idea of spending an evening in the great hall tugged hard. She’d been all of ten and six the last time she attended a great feast. There hadn’t been an occasion at Branwick to warrant one; both of Carolyn’s marriages had taken place at her husbands’ holdings and Marian hadn’t attended. Down in the great hall there would be food aplenty and entertainments. She hadn’t realized, until now, how much she’d missed those enjoyments. She knew few of the guests, would be just one more lady in the crowd. What harm could come from spending a pleasurable hour or two among Wilmont’s guests, if the girls were agreeable?
The babe would require a feeding later, and when Ardith came up, Marian would, too, and finish their talk about Lyssa’s headaches. She could then fetch the girls and retire to the tent, there to stay until the return to Branwick.
Marian turned to see all four children standing near the pallets. Naturally, they’d heard most of the conversation. The girls looked worried. Marian set her resolve
and, with a slight hand motion, beckoned the girls to her. They crossed the room slowly. Not a good sign.
She placed a hand on each of her daughter’s shoulders.
“Lady Ardith has invited me to sup down in the great hall. As I am sure you heard, the two of you are welcome to remain up here with Daymon and Everart, with their nursemaid to watch over you. Would that bother you overmuch?”
The girls exchanged a glance Marian had become accustomed to over the years, a silent communication between them when a joint decision must be made, a judging of how the other felt on the matter.
Audra looked up first. “Will you be gone long?”
Marian shook her head. “Nay, only for the supper. When next Lady Ardith comes up to feed Matthew, I will come with her. Nor will I be far away, just down the stairs. Should you need me, you need only send for me.”
Lyssa looked to Ardith. “Will Stephen be there?”
The question rocked Marian, but she understood. He’d been her rescuer last night.
“Aye, Lyssa, he most certainly will be,” Ardith said. “I assure you, we will all watch over your mother most carefully. And I think you will like Gwyneth, who will watch over you. She knows many children’s games.”
The girls exchanged another look, made a decision.
Lyssa spoke for them. “’Tis all right, then.”
Marian bent down and gave them both a hug. The nursemaid was sent for, and Marian approved of the young woman’s cheerful demeanor. With the children once more set to play, Marian followed the women out into the hall, headed for Ardith’s solar.
“We must rush somewhat,” Ursula said. “Gerard has returned so everyone will begin sitting to table soon.”
Ardith slowed her steps. “Ah. Mayhap I should go down, then, to ensure proper seating. Marian, might I leave you to Ursula’s care?”
“Of course, I—” Marian stopped. “Dear me, I forgot all about Carolyn. She will need my help to make herself ready.”
Ursula shook her head. “Carolyn has gone out to the tent to set her gown to rights.” She turned to Ardith and rolled her eyes. “Would you believe Stephen sent Maeve out to help? I took the liberty of sending Christina out, too. I do not know what the boy was thinking to assign a kitchen wench a handmaiden’s duties.”
Ardith laughed lightly. “I doubt Stephen knows the difference. Truly, he may sometimes not say or do the right thing, but his intentions are always good.”
Marian entered the solar to change, determined to have a pleasant evening. She shrugged off her problems with the brown peasant-weave, and allowed the sky-blue linen to brighten her mood. For the next two hours she would enjoy herself, forget her cares. Time enough later to take them back up again, when once more she donned the brown gown.
The linen fitted her, if snugly. The boots were roomy, but not overlarge. Marian melted as the maid brushed and plaited her hair, then covered it with a veil.
“Oh, much better!” Ursula declared.
Marian viewed the transformation in the silvered glass and agreed. Much, much better.
S
tephen rather liked the honor of sitting at the dais beside Ardith. From this vantage point, he could see most everything happening at the tables stretched down the great hall, note which nobles got along with their seating partners and who didn’t. Sometimes the pairings proved amusing.
Carolyn was also so honored, seated at Gerard’s left, between his brother and Lady Ursula. The placement told everyone in the hall that the family held Carolyn in high regard, and the “why” of the high regard would quickly become the speculation of the evening. No doubt several persons had already guessed Stephen’s intention to marry Carolyn, and then a debate would ensue about the wedding date and over who would be invited.
Stephen marveled at the predictability of his peers, at what messages could be sent and received by the mere chance of where one ate one’s supper in whose hall. These nobles didn’t know about the contest between him and Edwin, of course, that some doubt yet existed over who would win Carolyn’s hand. They simply saw the esteem accorded Carolyn and made their assumptions, exactly as Ardith had intended. Except she didn’t know
about the contest, either. Still, ’twas nice to know his family accepted Carolyn, and it didn’t hurt to have his rival witness their approval.
Not quite so easy for all to comprehend was Ardith’s decision to put Edwin of Tinfield and Marian de Lacy in the highest seats at the highest table. As the noblest of rank attending the festivities and a great friend and ally of Gerard’s, the earl of Warwick and his wife normally occupied seats at the dais. Neither of those high nobles seemed to mind being bumped down two full placements. Indeed, the earl and his wife seemed to enjoy Edwin and Marian’s company.
Stephen hadn’t yet figured out Ardith’s purpose, but he knew better than to disturb her until after the servants finished bringing in the first course. So he watched Marian’s eyes sparkle at some remark made by the earl.
This was how he remembered first seeing Marian so many years ago. Gowned in fine linen, her eyes alight with enjoyment, the girl who smiled easily at a jest. The other Marian, the widow who garbed herself in rough peasant-weave, seemed to have fled for the night and Stephen commended himself for taking a small part in that woman’s banishment.
This was where Marian belonged—in a noble hall, suitably garbed and conversing with her peers, not hidden away in a hut in a hamlet. She’d once held sway in her father’s hall, charming everyone with her pleasant voice and witty conversation, her genuine interest in whomever she spoke to, even the servants. Yet she’d given it all up or lost it somehow.
The niggling feeling returned that he was somehow at fault. He’d tried to talk to Marian about the rift with her family, find out more about her deceased husband. She refused. He should let the thing be.
Ardith shifted in her chair, turned to watch the doors. They opened and in walked five sturdy lads, each bearing a huge platter on which rested a fully dressed roasted peacock. To the appreciation of those at table, the lads went about the business of serving. Ardith relaxed a bit.
Stephen nudged her elbow. “Good show.”
“Let us hope one of the peacocks does not slide off onto someone’s lap.”
Stephen doubted she truly worried. Wilmont’s servants were too well trained for such a happenstance. Still, she watched one of the lads approach the dais to present his bird to Gerard.
“You must explain something to me, Ardith.”
“What is that?”
“Why you placed Edwin and Marian so high.”
He’d finally distracted her enough to gain her attention.
“Convenience sake, mostly. This way I need only give her a small signal when the time comes for me to see to Matthew, and I thought being partnered with Edwin, someone she knows, would make her feel more comfortable.”
“And why does your seeing to Matthew affect Marian?”
“Because she will go up with me, as she promised the girls.”
She said it as if he should somehow know all this. His confusion must have shown.
“Ah, I assumed Marian told you of what went on upstairs.”
In the midst of introducing Carolyn to Gerard when Marian came down the stairs, Stephen hadn’t yet found the opportunity to talk to her. At the shake of his head, Ardith went on.
“Last night’s incident badly frightened Marian’s daughters. They were reluctant to allow their mother out of their sight. She assured them she would not be gone long or far away.” Ardith put her hand on his forearm. “The girls were not satisfied, however, until told you would be in the hall. ’Twould seem they assume that since you rescued Marian once, you could do so again should the need arise. ’Tis quite a trust they have placed in you, and I cannot think of anyone who more deserves it.”
The peacock arrived at the lord’s table and Ardith turned her attention to her duties once more.
Ardith’s words tore at his heart. He could think of several people who deserved her regard far more than he. She simply wouldn’t accept that he’d
failed
her. ’Twas his fault she and Daymon had been kidnapped, taken away in the middle of the night by a ruthless enemy of Gerard’s. Gerard had left the two people most precious to him in Stephen’s care, and he’d failed to protect them.
Stephen twirled his eating knife between his fingers. Ardith had placed Marian right beneath his nose for the girls’ sake, so he could watch over Marian, protect her from harm if need be.
A sacred trust, one he didn’t want. Too often he failed to meet others’ expectations of him, and he hated the thought of disappointing Audra and Lyssa.
’Twas why he’d chosen to marry Carolyn, a woman who expected only one thing from him—an occasional visit to her bed to sire her heirs. Given his unexplainable lack of lust for the woman—hellfire, ’twas the one expectation he’d never envisioned having a problem meeting with any woman.
The earl rose from the bench, held his goblet high and
shouted his compliments to Ardith. The other guests joined in the raucous cheer accompanied by whistling and pounding on the table. Stephen lifted his goblet—and watched Marian, caught up in the glee.
His heart skipped a beat. He ceased to hear the noise around him, see anything beyond the bright smile on her lovely face. With her goblet held up in salute, Marian’s gaze shifted briefly to lock with his for one, perfect moment.
As if lightning struck, his senses fired and came alive. What a joy she was to look upon, to speak to, to hold, to—
“Stephen, you had best eat before the meat grows cold.”
Stephen looked down to see two large chunks of meat on his trencher obviously placed there by Ardith—and he hadn’t noticed.
“My thanks,” he muttered, and tried to keep his thoughts where they belonged for the rest of the meal.
Hard to do when Marian’s laughter drifted up to snare his awareness, when the flutter of her hand as she talked caught his attention. Harder still when he noticed she never looked his way again, but bestowed her smiles and conversation on Edwin.
Course followed course. He ate, but the food sat hard in his stomach. At the last, he barely tasted the dried apricots and raisins sprinkled with sugar and cinnamon, a dish he usually enjoyed.
Ardith sat back in her chair, placed a hand on her stomach. “Dear me, I must remember I am no longer eating for two!”
“Ah, but you must eat to keep up your energy. For all you do around here you could eat for three and still keep your lovely figure.”
“My thanks, but I do believe I shall refrain.” Ardith looked down at where Marian sat. “I almost hate to bother her. She is having such a good time.”
“Time to go up?”
“Almost.”
Stephen didn’t mind bothering Marian at all. She was having entirely too good a time in the company of Edwin of Tinfield and Charles of Warwick.
“Say the word and I will fetch her,” he offered.
“How gracious of you.”
He thought so, then grew impatient when Ardith turned to say something to Gerard instead of moving to go upstairs, but then she wouldn’t.
Nobody
rose from table until after the baron did, and Gerard didn’t appear ready. He hadn’t yet finished his apricots.
Neither had Marian. She plucked a piece of the succulent fruit from her bowl with her fingertips, placed the slice of apricot between her lips, and held it there. Likely sucking on it, rolling her tongue around the fruit to moisten it, causing it to swell.
Stephen closed his eyes and inwardly shuddered. Not even the scrape of Gerard’s chair released him from his misery.
Marian bit into the apricot, savoring the sweet flavor. The baron had pushed back his chair and risen, a signal to all that they may do the same. ’Twas greedy of her, but she wanted another hour of fine food and mellow wine and pleasant conversation.
Gad, she sat at table above the earl of Warwick! Ardith had explained her reasons for the seating to the earl, and he and his wife hadn’t minded in the least. Such good company they’d been, and Edwin…well, Carolyn
was an utter fool to refuse the man’s suit. He’d been utterly charming and poised.
The rest of the party at the dais also rose, but none of them stepped down, merely stood about talking. Until Ardith headed for the stairway, Marian didn’t need to move, so she plucked the last apricot from her bowl and popped it in her mouth.
The earl’s wife leaned forward, her eyes atwinkle. “So, is there a wedding in the offing between Stephen and Lady Carolyn?”
Marian swallowed hard to keep from choking. All in the hall had been privy to the family of Wilmont’s honor of Carolyn de Grasse and would make the same assumption as the earl’s wife. ’Twas the one disheartening aspect of the evening, that the whole time Marian enjoyed the supper, she’d also yearned to be the woman seated at the dais.
Foolish, of course. Still, she’d been hard-pressed to look at Carolyn or Stephen all evening, so she’d tried to ignore them. For the most part, she succeeded.
“The matter is by no means settled,” Edwin stated, quietly and calmly. How hard it must be for Edwin to witness Carolyn’s acceptance by Stephen’s family. It did Marian’s heart good, however, to hear he hadn’t given in to despair.
Stephen approached, escorting Carolyn.
Something bothered Carolyn. Her smile was in place, but she wasn’t at all happy.
Stephen bowed slightly in the earl’s direction. “Charles, I am given to understand you took one too many heron during today’s hunt.”
With a smug look, the earl rejoined, “I did, an unforgivable feat I am sure Gerard hopes to best on the morrow.”
“He does, but I intend to beat you both.”
“Ah, a challenge then?”
“Naturally,” Stephen said, then turned to Edwin. “You once remarked on the quality of Wilmont’s mews. Care to join us on the morn?”
“Delighted,” Edwin answered, and Marian guessed he truly was. Even she wouldn’t mind a chance to fly one of the falcons perched behind the dais, each one more magnificent than the other.
“Wonderful. That settled, I fear I must deprive you of Lady Marian’s company. Marian?”
She leaned over to look around Stephen. Ardith and the baron stood a ways off, waiting. Marian rose, her heart divided between remaining in the hall and returning to her daughters. Return she must, but ’twas harder than she thought it would be.
“I thank you all for a delightful evening,” she told the earl and his wife. “’Twas truly enjoyable.”
The earl stood and took her hand between his. “Our pleasure, my dear. ’Tis sorry I am you must leave us so soon.”
Stephen chuckled. “But my lord, I would never be so mean as to deprive you of pleasant company. I take Marian away, but leave Carolyn in her stead.”
Marian moved aside to allow Carolyn by. Carolyn’s smile faltered slightly as she leaned over to whisper, “You and the girls are returning to the tent now?”
“Aye.”
“Good. We will talk later then.”
She’d been right about Carolyn’s false smile. Whatever was bothering her cousin? Had something happened, or been said, by one of Stephen’s family to put her out of sorts? Could it be serious enough to make Carolyn rethink her plan to marry Stephen?
Marian inwardly scoffed. ’Twould take a miracle to put Carolyn
that
out of sorts.
Stephen put his hand on Marian’s elbow. The gesture sent shivers through her entire being. He gave her a nudge toward where Gerard and Ardith waited.
“You look lovely in blue,” he said softly.
The compliment shouldn’t delight her so. She remembered her ire over his interference.
“You should not have spoken with your mother about my lack of a suitable gown.”
He leaned in closer, his breath a warm caress. “Are you truly sorry I did?”
She should push him away, put some distance between them. “I should be.”
“You did appear to be having a good time.”
“I did. The earl and his wife are delightful, and Edwin is always good company.”
“Does this mean I am back in your good graces?”
She’d been horrid to him last eve, rude today. He’d done nothing wrong yet tried to make amends.
“I owe you an apology, Stephen. Might we talk later?”
“We might,” he said wryly.
Ardith smiled at their approach. “Marian, you have not yet met my husband. Gerard, this is Marian de Lacy.”
Marian dipped into a deep curtsey, then rose to find the baron’s green eyes studying her. His regard was intense, yet not frightening. Marian guessed this man could be intimidating if he so wished.
“Lady Marian. I hope your stay at Wilmont somewhat makes up for your journey to get to us.”
Obviously he’d heard about last night’s mishap. How
far had the tale spread? The earl hadn’t mentioned it. Perhaps not everyone knew.
“Wilmont’s hospitality is most gracious, my lord.”
“I understand your daughters are upstairs with my sons.”
“Handsome lads, all.”
A smile touched Gerard’s mouth. “I believe so, too.”
Ardith moved toward the stairs, Marian followed, with Stephen and Gerard falling in behind. Climbing the stairs proved easier this time. Unfortunately, she must give up both the gown and the boots.