tales of the latter kingdom 08 - moon dance (22 page)

For yes, Janessa’s father had not come to attend Adalynn’s wedding, stating that he had urgent business in the capital which he could not put off. Although no one had asked for my opinion, I rather thought this “business” of his had far more to do with wishing to avoid seeing his daughter rather than anything that required his immediate attention.

But if Lord Gwyllim truly wished to ask for Janessa’s hand, then her father would not have to worry about avoiding her any longer. She would have made a far more advantageous match than he had probably dreamed of, and she could go and make a life of her own without having to concern herself with her father’s neglect and the reasons behind it.

“Well, that is wonderful news,” I told her, “and I am very glad to hear it. They say that love is in the air at events like these, and makes people want to confirm their own happiness when confronted by the happiness in others.”

She nodded, even as she continued to cast a critical eye at her reflection in the mirror. “Perhaps that is it. I am still not sure how it all came about, but it will be quite a wonderful thing to be the Lord Gwyllim’s wife, and the Baroness of Linsmere.”

Of that I had little doubt. For Janessa would escape her life as a ward in this household, and would have a title of her own. I thought that Carella would be quite green with envy, and knew that she would be impossible to live with for some time before she became resigned to the situation. Not that she’d had any particular designs on his lordship, but rather that she would find it quite insufferable that quiet, simple Janessa could land a titled husband when she herself was quite unattached.

If only Lord Mayson…but no, I would not allow my thoughts to go there. He seemed quite fixed on me, for better or worse. Perhaps I would be able to persuade him to look elsewhere, but even if I happened to be successful in such an endeavor, I could not hope that he would transfer his affections to my cousin.

A deep bell tolled from the courtyard, and Janessa let out a sigh. “That is the signal to go downstairs. Are you quite sure I shall pass muster?”

“You will be fine,” I assured her. “Only let me fix that one pin on the back of your head.”

I went to her and inserted the offending hairpin at a more elegant angle, then shifted another that had begun to slip as well. “Good as new, and if you need any further assistance, please come and find me.”

“Thank you, Iselda.” Impulsively, she hugged me. “You have been like the sister I never had. I cannot say the same for the others.”

Tears pricked at my eyes, for I had never heard her say such a thing before — and also because I guessed those words were her way of starting to say goodbye. Once Lord Gwyllim had spoken to her father, everything would begin to change for her.

I thought then with some spite that I would tell whoever asked for me — if and when such a thing might happen — to speak to my uncle, and not my father. For his treatment of my sister Annora, and because of his complete neglect after I had come to live with my aunt, he did not deserve to be given that honor.

But perhaps I was getting ahead of myself. Certainly Reynar had not spoken of such things, and although Mayson had, I definitely did not intend to accept his suit.

“I thank you for that,” I said softly, “and I am so very happy for you. But we must go down now, and play our roles.”

Janessa made a face as she seemed to think of the hours that lay ahead. “It will be torture to dance with anyone except Gwyllim. But I do not want to attract too much attention, and so I will do what I must.”

“I suppose that is all any of us can do.”

We went out then and shut the door behind us. I did not see any of my cousins, and so I guessed they must have already gone downstairs. Adalynn certainly, for she and Coryn must take the place of honor in the main dining hall, and be sitting there as the guests arrived. Under normal circumstances, I would have been banished to one of the lesser tables, but since I was one of my cousin’s attendants, I, too would sit at the head table, along with my aunt and uncle, and Janessa and Carella and Theranne. This was something of a relief, for although I did not much care to be put in display in such a way, at least I would be able to avoid Mayson during dinner, even if doing so at the ball which followed would be nigh impossible.

It seemed that Janessa and I were somewhat tardy, for everyone else was already seated when we entered the hall. My aunt sent us a disapproving look but said nothing; she would never reprimand us in front of the guests, although we might hear something from her later about our conduct. We both murmured apologies that no one else could hear as we took our seats. Whether she accepted them or not, I could not tell, for she only gave a very faint nod before gesturing toward Alister, to let him know all the guests were present and that the servants could begin bringing out the first course.

All of the maids and the footmen had been drafted to serve, even those who normally would never be seen outside the kitchens. On this special day, they all wore new ensembles of blue and silver, and looked very fine. But I could tell my aunt was worried, from the way she watched all of them with an eagle eye, clearly concerned that all it would require was one dropped cup, one spilled salad, to demonstrate to everyone that our household was not quite as equipped to handle such crowds as she wanted everyone to think.

I scanned the hall, but could not catch a glimpse of Mayson. He would have been sitting with his father, and they would have had a place of some importance because of Lord Elwyn’s rank, but I supposed that my position at the end of the head table meant I was not sitting in a spot where I would be able to see them. Just as well; I was not sure how well I would have fared if I had had to worry about Mayson’s eyes being on me all through dinner.

Alister himself waited on us, so of course no one at the head table needed to worry about any mishaps. The food was excellent, and I wondered whether all the kitchen staff would be in a state of utter collapse after this wedding was over. Certainly my aunt would not expect us to entertain again for some time.

Good,
I thought then,
for once we are all back to normal, it will be much easier for me to slip out and see Reynar. Will those midnight dances resume with Adalynn gone, or will the spell still be effective with only three girls dancing?

Hard for me to say, since I still had no idea what purpose the strange spell even served. That was one piece of information I could not seem to pry out of Reynar.

At least the meal went smoothly enough, course after course being brought in and taken out, until I began to wonder whether I would be able to last through dessert. My gown was not even laced that tightly, and so I could not imagine how some of the more corseted ladies must have been feeling.

Eventually, though, we were done, and Adalynn and Coryn rose from their seats so they could lead all the guests from the dining chambers down to the main hall, which had been transformed into a fairylike ballroom, with chains of roses swagged from the vast wrought-iron chandeliers, and hanging from the sconces along the walls. The air was thick with their scent, combined with the spicier, more exotic fragrance of the lilies that spilled from tall vases where the musicians sat.

The quintet played as we entered, a pretty, quaint tune older than the hills — not really suitable for dancing, but a charming way to come into the hall and prepare ourselves for what was to come next. As the new husband and wife, Coryn and Adalynn took their places near the musicians, and a set began to form beneath them, two long lines that stretched the entire length of the hall.

I began to wander toward the refreshment table at the far end of the chamber. I had had wine with dinner, but I was thirsty, and thought some cool water or punch would help. But I had not gone more than a couple of paces before I heard Mayson say, “Lady Iselda.”

With some reluctance, I turned. At the same time, though, I did my best to fix a pleasant smile on my lips. After all, I had managed to avoid him for a goodly number of hours. I could not hope to do so all through the evening. “Lord Mayson.”

“Will you stand up with me for the promenade? I think there is still some room at the bottom of the set.”

“Of course,” I replied demurely. “That would be lovely.”

He beamed at me and led me to what would turn out to be the very end of the set, for we could not add more dancers without running the risk of having them bump into those who were attempting to get something to drink or nibble at the refreshments table. True, a second set could be formed, but it was not fashionable to do so, for there was always a good deal of jockeying for position involved.

We faced one another across the set. Inwardly, I could not help but be relieved that he had asked me to dance the promenade with him, for we would have no more intimate contact than holding one another’s hands. If it had been a
verdralle,
he would have had to put his arm around my waist, and I would have had to hold his free hand with mine, and put my other hand on his shoulder. No, this was much better.

The music began, and he bowed as I curtseyed. Then we turned toward the head of the line and joined inner hands, and began to walk in time to the slow and stately music.

One drawback to this sort of dance, compared to the more lively ones, was that it did not provide much impediment to conversation. As we strolled toward the top of the hall, Lord Mayson said, “Everything seems to be going very well so far.”

That seemed like a safe enough topic. But then, we did have Lord and Lady Pellyn directly ahead of us, and so perhaps Mayson did not wish to say anything that could not be overheard in polite company. “Yes,” I replied as we split off to follow the column of people moving to the right of the hall. When we reached the bottom again, Mayson would take hands with the lady of the couple who walked parallel with us, and so we would move four abreast and go back to the head of the chamber once again. “All is as it should be. I believe my Aunt Lyselle is very relieved that there have been no mishaps.”

“And will be even more relieved when all of her guests have gone home, no doubt,” Mayson responded with a glint in his dark eyes.

I cast a quick glance at the couple who walked with us, but they seemed to be engrossed in their own conversation and did not appear to be paying us much mind. “As to that, my aunt is a very hospitable woman, but I do believe that she will be glad enough when things are not quite so hectic.”

“Well, I doubt anyone could blame her for that.”

We both fell silent after that, for the dance required a bit more concentration going forward. Our little group of four joined up with another group of four, and we walked eight abreast up the length of the hall, where the gentleman leading our group joined hands with a lady at the tail end of her particular octet, and the entire group of dancers shifted into one long line that made its way around the room, twisting and turning as we moved into a tighter and tighter spiral.

By the end, I was laughing along with everyone else, for a good deal of concentration was required not to step on anyone’s toes, and Mayson laughed with me, a deep, throaty chuckle that seemed to indicate he truly was amused. Afterward, he guided me to the refreshments table so I might have some punch, but he did not linger, saying he had promised the next dance to Theranne.

I could not be jealous of that — far from it — and so I smiled as he went off in search of his partner. Anyway, I did not lack for partners myself, for almost as soon as he had left my side, I had several young men approach and importune me for a dance.

If I could not be with Reynar, then this was not a poor substitute. None of my partners appeared interested in anything except sharing a dance and enjoying themselves, and so I was able to spend the first hour or so of the ball quite happily entertained. And after a little while longer, I would have done my duty and shown my face for quite long enough, and then I would be able to slip away to my room. On the morrow, the guests would begin to depart, and our lives would settle back into their regular patterns.

After a quite breathless
verdralle
with a knight’s son who possessed far more enthusiasm than skill, I went to fetch myself a cup of water. As I paused by the refreshments table, I gazed across the room and saw Mayson and his father, apparently deep in conversation. At this distance and because of the clamor of conversations around us, I could not hear anything of what they said, but apparently they reached some sort of agreement, for Mayson nodded and turned away before disappearing into the crowd.

What all that had been about, I couldn’t begin to say. Perhaps Lord Elwyn had decided he had had enough of revelry, and was making plans to return home. If he left now, he could still reach his estate before midnight.

Although all the doors and windows to the hall had been opened to let in the cooler night air, the chamber was still far too warm. I could feel my hair sticking damply to the back of my neck, and a rivulet of perspiration trickled down my spine. It would probably be best if I went out into the gardens for a few moments so I might allow myself to cool down somewhat.

So I murmured an apology to the young man who had just begun to approach and ask for another dance, and threaded my way through the crowd and on into the rose garden. Overhead, the moon was very full and bright, its blue-white radiance quite overpowering the warmer light from the torches that ringed the courtyard.

I paused on a quiet little path, one where no one was currently walking. Although it was quite unladylike to do so, and Tarly would have scolded me for disarranging the curls she had spent so much time forming, if she had been there to see me, I took the mass of hair at the back of my neck and lifted it with one hand while I fanned away at the exposed skin with the other. In my rush to come downstairs, I had quite forgotten to bring my feather fan with me, and I certainly regretted that oversight now.

“Iselda?”

Oh, damn. I let my hair fall back down on my neck, and assumed what I hoped was a pleasant smile. How Lord Mayson had found me here, when I’d thought this was quite the isolated spot, I had no idea. Or had he been watching to see where I went? No, that was a most unsettling notion. The whole evening he had been quite offhand, friendly but certainly not pressing his suit in any way.