Bessie (3 page)

“Light cannot enhance what’s beyond redemption.”

“You’ve a sure picture for one with little knowledge. The gossips aren’t kind to one as disfavored as I have been. That is the true cause of my so-called plain image.”

“You wish me to believe you are a great beauty?”

Bessie was grateful the last of daylight was lighting his face. She wasn’t certain she could stand to look his way much longer. He may be the most handsome man she’d ever seen, but his character didn’t match. He’d have to learn there was more than one’s own reflection to beauty.

It was going to be her pleasure to teach it to him, too.

“You may believe what you wish, Devon. Your opinion means nothing to me. I was not sent to the Tower over my beauty, or lack, thereof. If you must know, I spent time there for fighting the queen’s choice of a bridegroom.”

“I am gratified to know of your leanings about it. That makes it odd you’d pursue a conversation of any kind with me.”

“It was not over you! Father in Heaven, but you
are
dim. I had no time to fight this marriage. I was sent to the Tower for not agreeing to wed Lord Bargerelle. The man was a brute and I was but nine. What gain would a union between us bring?”

“Probably more than ours does.”

“You’re wrong there, Devon. I shall try and explain. The queen is punishing you. Marriage to me is your penance. It may not be what you want, but marriage to me can bring you wealth beyond conception. If you ask...and I am willing.”

He chuckled. “Now, you’d have me think you’re a wealthy widow? Oh. Please. I have a bit of trouble imagining coin that would choose and purchase a gown such as you wear.”

“I did not purchase it.”

“Of course not, just as I did not buy what I wear. The queen put that material on your back as surely as she did this on mine.”

“If you would hear me out—”

“Hear you out? I’m surprised I’m still alive to listen.”

“Yes. That is a surprise. I’d suspected that your head would be forfeit, but see there? You have been saved for me.”

“I have been cast to the devil. That’s what has been done.”

“Well. I can certainly arrange that.”

“Do you speak of your ability to rid yourself of your husbands? I will see you sealed into a tower if you so much as start an incantation. You have my word on it.”

Bessie clucked her tongue. “Oh. I am a witch now, am I? Think that through, lad. Would a true witch have such an appearance? Although in faith, I’m not much to look upon dressed thusly, I’m not nearly as ugly as you seem to believe.”

“That word was put to use to describe you.”

Bessie smiled tightly behind her veil. She wondered why she bothered bandying words with him. It was clear he’d settled his opinion on her and nothing she could say would alter it. “Ah. I see the trouble here. You need maturing. Mayhap, when you’ve grown to manhood, you will think differently. A bit of growing allows a man to see beyond what he’s been...told.”

“Very few call me a youth.”

Bessie had to look away. It was difficult to insult him when all she could think of was how incredible he was. With the angry intent behind his expression, he looked every bit a man.

“Why, it’s obvious, my lord. You’ve yet to grow a beard. My guess is you don’t even need to shave. You have padded the shoulders of your doublet, your chest, and if I am not mistaken, even your codpiece. I look forward to the day when you are no longer in need of such artifice.”

He was silent for so long that Bessie had to look. At least, she’d stopped his viewing of the countryside. He wasn’t ignoring her. He was studying her with those intense, green eyes. She felt the flush through her breast as he continued to stare. As far as she could tell, he didn’t blink the entire time.

“Unfasten your headpiece,” he finally said.

“No.”

“You disobey already? And why, I wonder. Can it be that you shaved your head, Mistress? Or, worse? Has your hair grayed with age? Both would explain your use of full head covering, wouldn’t they?”

“I am a widow, remember?”

“Of more than a season. Oh. I grow weary of this. Your tongue speaks falsehoods and you insult me. Unfasten your veil.”

“No.”

“I can force you.” 

He leaned forward.

“You are not man enough.”

The halt of the carriage saved her. Bessie had no illusions on that score. The intent was in those glacial, green eyes. She was shaking as the coachman opened the door.

“Begging your pardon, my fine lord and his lady, but ’tis nigh impossible to continue on this eve. I’ve orders to see you to your estate, but I was not told to ruin good horseflesh, too.”

The man’s insolent tone made Devon turn from Bessie.

“You are in need of a lesson on how to address your betters. Stand and await your instructions or I’ll see you whipped.”

“My betters? With orders ringing in my ears? I only regret that I didn’t have other chores today.”

“Oh. I’ve time to teach such a lesson.”

Bessie grabbed at Devon’s arm as he slid along his bench. “If I could be so bold?” she asked.

“You’ve taunted me enough for one day.”  Devon glanced down to where she held him and then back at her.

“Think it through, my lord. Please. What the man says is truth. ’Tis impossible to travel in the dark.”

“There are lanterns mounted on each post. I saw to it, myself.”

She felt his forearm harden beneath her fingers as a tingle that raced along her skin. She nearly snatched her hand back. She knew a wife shouldn’t be arguing with her husband in front of a witness. A lorded gentleman shouldn’t be fighting like a peasant in the road, either, she told herself.

“Please? Lanterns can’t save the horses, and we need them.”

“If you’ve a suggestion, my lady, I’d listen.”

Bessie turned to the driver. She knew Devon watched with those green eyes. It was becoming clear to her he was as spoiled as he was handsome. She was beginning to think he was her punishment, and not the other way around. She couldn’t think of one thing she’d done to deserve it, though.

“Have you taken the low road or the high one?” she asked.

“The low one’s near flush with mud. We’d be stuck to our axles if I had taken it.”

Bessie fought to keep her temper at the man’s continuing insolence. Beside her, she felt, rather than saw, Devon’s amusement.

“That was good reasoning. Have you passed by a split boulder, yet?”

“The one with a tree? You can see it if you look back.”

He stepped back from the doorway and pointed. She didn’t check. She knew where it was.

“There will be a well-maintained road on the left. It won’t be more than a good stone throw from there. The keep it leads to will see we’ve shelter for the night. Take us there.”

“Very good, my lady.”

He shut the door and Bessie turned to Devon.

“Stone throw?” he asked.

“I was a child once, you know.”

“God forbid.”

CHAPTER THREE

Castle Crump was built along elegant lines, not at all like its owner had been. Bessie put the thought aside the moment it surfaced. The entire keep had been built for comfort, not to keep out intruders. Neither drawbridge nor portcullis hampered their progress into the courtyard.

Lights glowed from all fourteen front windows, easily lighting the yard. Bessie wasn’t looking about, though. She was watching Devon as the glow touched him. She smiled slightly at the surprise on his face.

“Whose castle is this?”

“I believe it belongs to the family of Crump. Perhaps you have heard of him?”

“Portly man with no manners?”

“Apt enough.”  Bessie shuddered at the description.

“Ah. He will set a good table then. The conversation probably won’t be the best. I look forward to the entertainment, though.”

“It’s better than traveling through the night?”

His eyes sharpened on her, although she was certain no light was penetrating her covering.

“How is it you know of our welcome?”

“Crump is...one of my relatives. Through...marriage.”

“That description probably fits half the countryside.”

Bessie ignored his answer. It wasn’t easy to sit conversing idly with him while her mind raced ahead. There wasn’t any at Crump who wouldn’t mark their mistress on sight. She made it a habit to visit her properties annually. She’d not been at Crump Castle in nearly a year though. She enjoyed the coldest months at Bargerelle’s estates in the South. She’d been planning her journey there when her royal summons had interrupted everything.

The staff was also used to seeing their mistress and not the shrouded nonentity she was portraying. That was another point in her favor. She was going to need more if she were to keep Devon in ignorance, however.

The door opened and their coachman shoved a step into place.

“Have the owner informed that the Lord and Lady Hildebrand are visiting.”  Devon spoke up before Bessie could.

“Already seen to, my lord.”

The fellow’s manners were improving. Bessie knew her husband had noticed. It was in the way he held his shoulders. She watched him step out without assisting his wife. Then, he compounded his lack of manners by walking toward the house as if he were unaccompanied.

She set her chin and spoke to the coachman. “Would you see if a woman known as Roberta is available to assist me?”

He tipped his hat in acknowledgment and Bessie sat back with a sigh.

The efficient-looking woman who opened the door next tried to pierce the dark corner Bessie was hiding in. It was impossible to speak first, but she’d known it would be.

“My lady? Your man says I’m to assist the Lady Hildebrand? Be you ill, Mum? I’ve many a potion that can cure the worst ague. Or a posset for your poor head if that is what ails—”

“It’s me, Roberta,” Bess interrupted, lifting her veil over her forehead.

“My own Bess? But—that man said...he said—”

“Step in and shut the door, please. What I am about to say mustn’t go any further. I have to trust you on this. I’ve instructions for the rest of the staff, as well. They are not to be altered. I take it...you have met my new husband?”

To her credit, Roberta hadn’t said a word. She entered the carriage and turned the doorknob behind her. Bessie knew how much silencing the curiosity had to be costing the maidservant. Nothing excited Roberta more than good gossip. Bessie watched now as Roberta sat primly on Devon’s bench and folded her hands.

“Silence does not become you, Roberta. I know the questions are burning at your tongue. Come along, now that we’ve our privacy, ask away.”

“I haven’t any questions, my lady.”

“Oh, dear. I upset you. I’m sorry. Truly, I am. There wasn’t any other way.”

“I am not upset. Why would you think such a thing? I simply sit down to a nice sup and my mistress, whom I have not seen in nigh a year, arrives to tell me that not only is she married again, which will shock a body, but that she’s got to trust my tongue, too. Like I wouldn’t keep every word regarding you to my very breast! You have not upset me. You’ve insulted me.”

“Forgive me.”

The woman snorted. “What’s this nonsense of arriving on the doorstep with a man like that, then?”

“Like what?”

“Are your eyes failing you? I forgot to shut my mouth. I was not the only one. Forgive me while I catch my breath.”

“Oh. Bother. You’ve met him,” Bessie remarked in a flat tone.

“That is your husband? Truth? How did you arrange that?”

“The queen ordered it. Earlier today.”

“Well! I am surprised at that. I am not the lone one. I’m afraid I’ll need smelling salts for the entire staff, I will.”

“The staff is not to see him.”

“’Tis a tad late for that, Lady Bess. Begging your pardon, but the entire servant wing is a-twitter as we speak. I will not get a lick of work from any of those girls for a sennight.”

“Blast the man!”

“You’re cursing your new husband for such God-given beauty? After wedding with Stansbury? I’ve more than questions for you. I’ve got a tad bit of advice, too.”

“I don’t want advice. What I want is a nice hot bath, some victuals, and not one person in this entire castle to give away the fact that it belongs to his wife. Oh! I nearly forgot. I also want to keep every female out of spotting distance of him, too. Is that too much to ask?”

“The moon might be easier, I am a-thinking.”

“Just see that he’s given a state bedroom, and put me in the adjoining one.”

“This marriage does not appear to have improved your temperament, my lady.”

“Ask me that in the morn.”  Bessie couldn’t help the wink she gave her servant before lowering her veil back into place.

~ ~ ~

So...the entire staff thought him beautiful. Why should they differ from Queen Elizabeth’s court in that regard? All women had eyes. Of course, Bessie’s night watchmen and guards weren’t female, but they’d stood open-mouthed when Devon had passed them by, too. It was enough to make a newly-wedded bride wince.

She’d noticed that Devon hadn’t even given it a passing thought.

Bessie eyed the connecting door as she nibbled on a roll. Roberta had been efficient as always. The looks Bessie had received from some of her closest servants had given her more than a moment of reflection. She wasn’t used to being the brunt of another’s envy. They’d be stupid for harboring that emotion. Just as she was foolish to fancy the breathless anticipation she was feeling had anything to do with love.

Devon hadn’t taken well to his new isolation. Bessie had Roberta’s gossip for that information. Seems the Lord Hildebrand found bathing without the assistance of a maidservant dissatisfactory in the extreme. He’d been quite vocal about it to the groomsman Bessie had assigned to him.

She giggled as she watched the connecting door. She dusted the last of the crumbs from the front of her sheer nightgown. Lace frothed from the high neckline to the floor. It wasn’t enough to conceal her form through the open weave of the material, though.

Bessie stood and debated her options.

She could always surprise Lord Hildebrand with what his new bride actually looked like. Roberta had brushed Bessie’s hair until it crackled. She’d always thought the red color theatrical. She hadn’t cared much about concealing it. Very few women could claim hair this color. The cloud about her looked alive with its resemblance to a flame. She suspected the fact that Queen Elizabeth paid her wigmakers a small fortune to dye just such a color for her own use was the true reason Bessie wore head cover. She was under orders to do so.

Grayish strands, indeed!

The memory of what Devon had said brought another giggle to her lips. He hadn’t been able to see her mouth, either. Surely he’d lose no time accusing her of using artifice...as Bargerelle had done, so many years before. Bessie had full lips that never seemed to lose their rose color. Against the paleness of her skin, it looked as theatrical as her hair.

Large, hazel-flecked brown eyes regarded her in the mirror. She didn’t need artifice there, either. She’d been blessed with dark brows and lashes, too. She smiled deviously at what Lord Hildebrand would say when he saw his wife.

If, he ever did.

A heavy brocade robe lay across the bottom of her bed. Bess turned away from her looking-glass as she fastened her robe. Roberta had argued with her over wearing it.

“‘It is your wedding night! What kind of woman wears so much material to bed at such a time?’” the maid had asked.

Bessie wasn’t arguing. She was going to wear the heavy robe and she was having the brown dress laundered to wear tomorrow. She knew there wasn’t anything as ugly in the entire house. Roberta hadn’t needed to speak of it. Bess didn’t need the lecture. She already knew of the dress’ failings. What she needed was for her husband to want her, regardless of what she looked like.

She knew what she wanted.

She wanted the moon.

The headpiece was tight against her forehead. It was due to her hair’s fullness when it was loose. She usually kept it braided down her back. Now, she had a bit of difficulty making certain the white linen flowed from her jeweled headband to cover her hair sufficiently. She’d made her decision. Devon Hildebrand wasn’t to have the slightest idea what his wife actually looked like. Not until he’d been proven worthy of it.

The thought of that eventuality made her breath catch as she approached the connecting door. Her new husband was a handsome man, but his wife wasn’t ugly. It was a shame Devon had been gifted with such a superior sense of himself. Perhaps tonight would be the night that Devon saw beyond his own reflection in a looking-glass.

She took a deep breath, calmed her trembling and opened the door.