Love Letters (5 page)

Standing and fuming. How could she just walk off and leave him? Admittedly, he was a servant of a much lower rank than Deorwine – but surely common courtesy would dictate a farewell at the very least?

He stomped past them at speed, arriving at the stables within moments to see Ælfgard tapping his foot impatiently.

“Come now, Selwyn,” he said angrily. “Must I wait for you?”

“My apologies, my lord,” Selwyn muttered, and began readying his horse. He tried not to look as Catheryn and Deorwine approached the house, and he made sure that he did not look up when they passed him. However, he may have preferred to; as he would have noticed the smile that Catheryn had tried to give him.

Chapter Seven

The week that followed contained many meetings between Catheryn and Selwyn, and although the majority of them were not planned, they became to be increasingly happy accidents. At first, Catheryn was still nervous and uncomfortable around a man that was still really a stranger – but then Selwyn had a way of putting her so carefully at ease.

“Have you considered Harold?” Selwyn said carelessly, flicking away a fly that was bothering him. They had accidently met in a corridor just after the midday meal, and Selwyn’s words caught Catheryn’s attention.

She snorted. “You can’t be serious.”

Selwyn joined in her laughter.

“So, he’s not the most obvious choice. Does that discount him?”

There was another snort. A servant walked down the corridor, glanced at the laughing couple and then took a closer look. Wide eyes told Selwyn that she had realised who they were.

“No, but can you imagine him reading for more than five minutes? He doesn’t strike me as a man who even knows where the books are!”

“And he does have a more pressing concern at present.”

Catheryn looked puzzled. “He does?”

“Have you not noticed his skin lately?”

Despite trying not to laugh, Catheryn gave in. “That is cruel, Selwyn!”

Selwyn smiled ruefully. “I suppose it is. You shall have to teach me better manners.”

Catheryn coloured slightly, but ignored the compliment. “You do not think that it could be him then?”

Selwyn paused for a moment, but another servant walked past, and he looked scandalised. Selwyn realised that the daughter of the house did not generally pause in corridors to giggle with servants.

“And if that is all, my lady, I’ll wish you good day.”

Selwyn bowed low and whispered, “I can stay here no longer.”

Rising, he saw Catheryn nod her understanding.

“Thank you, Selwyn,” she said, turned, and walked away.

It was two days later before coincidence brought them together again, and this time it was before the rest of the household had broken their fast. Catheryn had come down early for some peace and quiet; some news of the royal court had arrived the evening before, and her parents had kept the entire household up late in their wish to discuss it. What she hadn’t expected was to find Selwyn awake also – but then, she chastised herself, she should have. As the steward, Selwyn was generally up first and to bed last.

He was laying the fire in the centre of the Great Hall. Catheryn sat quietly on a bench, but she wasn’t subtle enough to escape his notice.

“Good morning, my lady,” he said with a smile.

“Good morning.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“I’m afraid that I did not,” confessed Catheryn. “I could not get out of my mind who this poet is.”

Selwyn hid a smile behind a large log he was placing in the centre of the grate. His joke had given way to a surprising amount of pleasure for him.

“You do not think that it is Cuthbert?”

Selwyn rose, and adopting a rather brutish air, strode towards her.

“M’lady,” he said, imitating Cuthbert’s brisk tones. “I wish to court you. Be my wife, and never think again.”

Catheryn collapsed into giggles.

Selwyn couldn’t continue, but joined in her laughter, leaning against the table before her. “Are you not impressed with my jape?”

Catheryn nodded, not trusting her voice at present.

Selwyn’s broad grin soon faded as his body reacted to the closeness of hers. He had to remain focused – that line of thinking, of feeling, did not lead anywhere.

“What about Deorwine?” Catheryn said, her giggles subsiding.

Selwyn frowned. He found it difficult to talk about Deorwine – there was something very distasteful about him, and he had still not forgive him, or Catheryn, for the way that they had walked off without him that first day he and Catheryn had talked.

“Good morning, my child.”

Hilda’s airy voice entered the room, and Selwyn self-consciously took three steps away from her daughter.

Catheryn smiled, and put out her arms to her mother. “Good morrow, my lady mother.”

She turned to continue speaking to Selwyn, but he had disappeared.

In the corridor, Selwyn took a deep breath. Selwyn himself could not believe how much of his time was being taken up with Catheryn; talking to her, walking with her, thinking up excuses to go and talk to her. It was not until Catheryn said something seemingly trivial that he realised the main problem with his plan.

“It’s strange, isn’t it,” said Catheryn as they rode through a small wooded copse near her home. “I received two notes relatively close together – and now a fortnight has gone past, and I have not received a third.”

Selwyn bit his lip at his own mistake. He had become so engrossed with trying to lead Catheryn along a path, guessing as to who her admirer was, that he had forgotten to play the part of the admirer. It had not even entered his mind that he would need to send another love note to her in order to keep up the pretence.

“Perhaps he is nervous,” Selwyn said, with the air of trying to guess another man’s secret. “Perhaps he expected some sign from you as to your own affections.”

Catheryn snorted. “Then he is even more of a fool than we expected. How on earth am I meant to give my anonymous romancer a sign of my feelings? The entire problem is that we do not know who he is!”

She collapsed into fits of giggles, and Selwyn could not help but laugh with her. Her voice lilted up when she laughed, and the sunlight that fell through the branches lit up the tendrils of her hair that escaped her veil. After they regained their calm, he spoke again.

“And you really have no idea who it is? After all of this time?”

“Really, Selwyn,” Catheryn rolled her eyes at him in a manner that was becoming quite endearing to him. “Do you think I would be going to all this trouble trying to work it out if I knew who it was? Once I know his identity…well. Then the decision can be made.”

“Decision?”

“You do not think that once I know who has romantic feelings for me, I should do something about it?”

Selwyn almost fell off his horse with surprise, but his experience as a horseman allowed him to stay on. “Do something?” He repeated, trying to maintain his composure. “Do what?”

Catheryn smiled. Her gaze flickered over to him, but then her head was turned as she caught a snatch of birdsong from their left. “For all your knowledge about people, Selwyn, you know very little about me. I’m not going to stay here waiting for someone to eventually write a poem that includes their name at the end. When I find out who is writing them – and I will find out – then I will be able to ask him exactly what his intentions are, and then make a decision. Either I shall marry him, or I shall not.”

Selwyn laughed. “The decision is that simple?”

“Why not?” replied Catheryn. “I only get to make so many decisions in my life, so why waste time on them? I do not know who is writing them – therefore it could be someone…” Her voice grew quiet at this point. “It could be someone who truly loves me.”

“You believe that to be true?”

“I believe it to be possible.” Catheryn smiled, and her voice returned to normality. “Why shouldn’t I? It is rather a nice idea to think that someone could be in love with me.”

Selwyn did not reply, but instead looked more carefully at her. Catheryn noticed his gaze, and blushed slightly, but did not say anything.

Selwyn couldn’t work her out. The more he looked, the more she changed, and it was not just the dappled light that the trees gave them that altered her. Every time he saw her, he spoke to her, she changed.

“I just don’t want to end up like my parents,” Catheryn confessed awkwardly. The nervousness of her tone caught Selwyn’s attention, but by the sound of her voice, she didn’t know whether to continue or not.

“Why not?” he ventured quietly.

Catheryn took a deep breath. “I probably shouldn’t even talk about it,” she said sadly. “Not that it’s forbidden, just…it is probably not seemly for me to speak of my parents in that disrespectful way.”

Selwyn waited for her to continue speaking.

“Their marriage was all arranged for them,” Catheryn said in a rush. “I know that they are not…completely happy. I sometimes think that it would have been better for them if they had had their own choice in the matter.”

Selwyn did not know what to say. Marriage was a complicated topic amongst equals, but between Catheryn and Selwyn… For his people, it was not a case of class or wealth, but who was available. They lived in small worlds, in small villages, and you were more likely to wed your sister’s friend than a person that you had never met before.

“I must go back,” Catheryn said, looking upwards at the sun. “I promised my lady mother that I would return before midday, and it fast approaches.”

Selwyn nodded his assent, rather than speaking and allowing his feelings to be cast bare. They turned their horses around, and began to meander back home.

“Catheryn? Catheryn!”

Their return was heralded by her father’s voice.

“Catheryn come here quickly!”

Both Catheryn and Selwyn encouraged their horses faster, but it was Selwyn who reached Ælfgard first.

“What is it my lord?” Selwyn said curtly. “Is everyone well? Has my lady been taken ill?”

By now Catheryn had also arrived, breath slightly lost but eyes bright.

“Is my lady mother ill?” She repeated, falling rather than dismounting from her horse.

Selwyn quickly dismounted to help her up, but before he could reach her, she had righted herself. A faint blush covered her cheeks, and Selwyn knew enough not to speak of her slight inelegance.

Ælfgard tried to reassure them. “Fear not, none I know of have taken sick.”

Catheryn breathed a sigh of relief. Their local healer had succumbed that winter, and there was a degree of nervousness in the area as no one had yet replaced her. One of their servants was expecting her first child, and Catheryn had personally been making enquiries to find a healer in time for the birth.

“What then, father?”

“I have had a letter,” Ælfgard said quickly and excitedly. “It bore the royal seal, and so of course I opened it immediately. It is a royal summons to the court… I think we have finally gathered enough favour!”

Catheryn looked into her father’s eyes, and saw the excitement almost burst forth from him. His face was lit up with the joy that almost a lifetime’s worth of work – her lifetime – was about to pay off, finally. After almost two decades of Ælfgard ignoring his family to serve the king, it seemed the king was finally ready to offer a service to Ælfgard.

Hilda came running towards them from the house, skirts flying in her haste.

“Is Catheryn sick?” She cried. “I was told to come straight here and I don’t know if – Selwyn, is Catheryn hurt?”

“No, my lady,” Selwyn said calmingly, “no one has taken to illness. My lord has received a letter from the king.”

“The king?”

She turned to her husband, and a smile slowly drew itself across her face.

“The king!”

Ælfgard embraced his wife, steward and daughter forgotten. Catheryn smiled at them, but Selwyn noticed it was a weary smile. It was the smile that was typically seen on a parent that allowed a favourite child to indulge in unbecoming behaviour.

After a few minutes watching their excited conversation, Catheryn left her parents and walked back towards the house, unnoticed by the chatterers. Selwyn looked at his lord, saw that he would no longer be required, and went after her.

“Are you not excited?” Selwyn said, rather nervously. “I had expected you to be just as triumphant as your parents. A royal summons…it is a great honour.”

“The honour is not mine,” Catheryn said dully. “The honour is that of my parents. For me it is nothing but a long journey to meet people I do not know, and be paraded as their heir.”

Understanding dawned on Selwyn, and the hesitant smile on his face vanished. “You are to go with them?”

“I can hardly remain here,” she said with a sigh. “I am their daughter; where they go, I go. Who they fawn over, I fawn over.”

The bitterness in her voice could not be mistaken, even by someone as convinced as Selwyn that she enjoyed the attentions of others.

“You speak of it like a prison sentence,” he joked, and by instinct rather than design, reached for her hand. Anything to be close to her.

Catheryn stopped in her tracks and looked angrily at Selwyn, snatching her arm out of reach. “You may think you know me,” she said quietly. “But you don’t. Have you not noticed that I find no joy in auctioning myself out to whoever happens to be king at the moment? It is not my greatest desire to be part of the royal court and all of the intrigue and fear that dwells there.” Catheryn stopped, and tried to calm herself. “But I am my parent’s daughter, and so I go.”

And go she did.