Boadicea's Legacy (23 page)

He longed to brand her with his love and break the self-imposed vow of chastity that had chained him for over a year. She belonged to him and, as it was now, he couldn't claim her.

This plan to offer the earl her help in finding Boadicea's spear in exchange for help in battle for a man that wasn't even in his jurisdiction wouldn't work, and Ela would only get hurt.

There was no choice but to meet with the earl without her. She was a wild one, and he had to have a sound and logical plan to win the day. The earl was an intelligent man, a representative first and foremost of the king.

As appointed by Richard. The earl would be especially careful until his position was secured under King John.

Os rolled his shoulders. Politics were not for him, and he was tired of tournaments and battles.

He wanted a small home to call his own, where he could raise goats and mayhap a few chickens. Children—he'd want a full house. And they'd all have red hair and green eyes and a wicked sense of humor. Mayhap they would have the ability to heal and read colors.

Os bowed his head.
It could never happen
. “We'll go and let you rest. Here's your dress. I hope it fits.”

Ela looked up, amusement in her gaze. “Tactical retreat, Osbert? What are you planning?”

“A meal and a chance to clean up before our meeting, my lady Ela. That is all.”

“Hmm. May I call for Lady Steffen? And tell her who I am?” She stroked the polecat, who turned on his back to get his belly rubbed.

If only he could acquiesce to her touch as easily—alas, it would only be in his dreams. “Aye. By now the entire castle knows who you truly are. Gossip runs faster than the Thames.”

“I'll send the page to get her,” St. Germaine said, opening the door. “My lady.” He nodded to Ela, and Os could see that the knight admired her. He usually wasn't so vocal.

Albric gave the bed a pat as he folded his cloak. “Have a boy fetch me if you need anything. Don't walk alone, aye?”

Os bristled. He'd been about to offer the same thing.

Warin tapped his sword hilt. “I'm a shout away, my lady. Good luck to ye.” The two knights followed St. Germaine out the door, and Os was left alone with Ela.

He found himself at a loss for words.

“Thank you for coming to my rescue,” she said with a smile so beautiful it tore at the walls around his resolve.

Sounding bored, he turned and walked away as if what she thought was of no consequence to him. “I pledged to keep you safe.”

He closed the door behind him and smiled when he heard what sounded like a slipper hit the wood right where his head would have been.

Os had warned her that the earl was not one to bargain with like a shop owner in a market fair, but if there was a way to make her his, he would find it.

She stared at the door and the scuff mark on it from the heel of her borrowed shoe. The hateful thing hadn't even broken so that she could honestly beg another pair from somewhere.
I'd rather go barefoot
.

Sighing, she set Henry on the bed and picked up the package wrapped in paper and tied with a twine bow. “You tried to save this for me?”

Henry chirped, his whiskers twitching. His dark eyes stared at her fingers as she took the bow off and tossed it toward him. As nimble as could be, he caught it between his paws and fell back on the bed to wrestle with it.

Laughing, Ela folded the paper back. “Oh my,” she said, lifting the dress and shaking it out. “He did well, did he not?”

Blue, shot through with silver, and hemmed in silver braid, the gown was simple and elegant at the same time. She held it up to her chin, noting that the length was perfect. She wished for a mirror as she danced around the room as if the dress was Os—her partner. Her lover.

A knock sounded at her door, and her cheeks flushed. Mayhap he'd regretted his harsh words and he'd come to beg her pardon by offering her a rose.

She opened the door with a welcoming smile.

“Never been in love? Such a liar you are.” Lady Steffen good-naturedly pushed her way into the chamber. “A private room? Though small, these are hard to come by. It is time for you to tell me who you really are.”

Sashaying toward the one chair, she saw the towel with dried blood on it and immediately spun around. “You're hurt?”

Ela touched her head. “It's nothing, truly.”

Lady Steffen took the towel and shook it. “What happened? I lost you in the crowd earlier, and I've had pages and maids searching all over for you—which is difficult when I don't know your real name.”

“You have every right to be frustrated—”

“Agh! What's that?” Lady Steffen threw the towel at the bed. “A rat? A weasel? Kill it!”

Ela scooped Henry into her arms, her body shaking with laughter. “Stop, stop—'tis just my pet … polecat.”

Disgust crossed Lady Steffen's face. “Polecat?”

“I know that it is an unusual pet—”

“I knew you were odd, but this—really.” Lady Steffen sat down, staring hard at Henry, who hid beneath Ela's apron.

“He's tame. He has but three legs, because one got caught in a trap.”

“Before you say another word, please, tell me your real name?” She fanned her face. “Three legs. My goodness.”

“Ela. Ela Montehue.”

Lady Steffen's eyes widened, and Ela watched her friend's face pale beneath the layer of thick white makeup. “The one who was injured in the kitchens?”

“Aye. Os said that gossip spread fast.”

“I never put it together—that you would be … her.”

“Her?” Ela searched for the reason Lady Steffen's aura flashed.

“The injured girl—that you would be my maid. You are no maid, but a noblewoman. Why the farce?”

Ela perched on the edge of the bed. “‘Tis a long story.”

“I would hear it, if you don't mind telling it.”

“For certes. Osbert and the other knights were trying to protect me from Thomas de Havel.”

Her gasp was almost inaudible, but Ela heard it. “I know. The same men who turned your carriage over are looking for me. Os thought it best if I traveled as his sister.”

“Very clever, your knight.”

“Not mine.” Ela hid her blush behind a fall of hair.

“And Thomas de Havel found you here? How?”

“I'm not sure. But I plan to take the story to the earl and hope to gain his aid.”

“When will you see the earl? I'm friends with the countess, don't forget—if I can help, just say the word.” She sat forward. “Such intrigue. Makes me think of my younger days.” Smiling, she sat back. “Is that the dress that the knight picked out?”

“Aye.” Ela held it up against her. “It is lovely, isn't it?”

“Perfect for your coloring. Do you have shoes?”

“Nay. Want to hear a secret? I might go barefoot, if the gown is long enough.”

Lady Steffen laughed. “I can you help you with shoes and your hair. The earl appreciates beauty, and you have that in abundance.” Her dark eyes narrowed. “Take care not to arouse jealousy, eh?”

Ela scoffed. “I am not the kind to do that, my lady. I am quite simple.”

“My lady—nay, ‘tis Natalia now, between you and I. And you are far from simple, no matter how much you'd like to believe so. Ela, why is this Thomas de Havel after you?”

Knowing that it would be very unwise to speak ill of anybody at court, Ela shrugged and said lightly, “I'd thought we'd marry, but he didn't want me. Then he changed his mind, but I said no, and he acted like I'd broken an engagement. Believe me, I would have remembered my first proposal had I gotten one.”

Lady Steffen shook her head. “And they say that women are mercurial in temperament.”

“Sir Osbert has but one mood—serious. He overthinks everything until all of the spontaneity is gone from it.” Ela sighed, wondering what Os would think once he saw her in the gown he'd picked out for her. She ran her hand over the textured fabric.

“Let me help you dress.” Lady Steffen—Natalia—stood.

“I could never presume to ask you.”

“I am offering. You'll need my help with your hair. Is
it really as long as that?” She pointed to a tendril that had fallen free and touched the floor.

“Aye. I usually keep it in tight braids and coils. Until it gives me a headache, and then I let it loose.”

Natalia was efficient and quick, and before Ela realized it, she was dressed in her new gown and her hair was arranged with flowers and bells. Silver slippers that Natalia had commandeered from somewhere fit her perfectly. “There. Now you look ready to meet the earl.”

Ela told herself that the excitement she felt was because she was about to meet one of the most powerful men in all of England, but she knew that it was because she would be seeing Os—finally looking her best.

What would it take to make him lose that rigid control?

“Don't be nervous, Ela. Would you like me to come with you?”

“Would you? You have been so kind. But let us see what Os, Sir Osbert, wants to do. I thought he would have been here by now.”

“‘Tis almost time for the evening meal.” Natalia leaned back in the chair. “Would he meet the earl without you?”

“N …” Ela wanted to say no, but she wasn't sure. Actually, if he thought it was for her own good, he would do what he pleased. What harm could come from her meeting the earl, as he'd wanted all along? “Mayhap.”

“Do you trust him?”

“Aye … so long as our wishes are the same. He has this problem with honor.”

“I beg your pardon?” Natalia sipped the last of the wine.

“As in, he has an abundance of it.” Ela sank down to the edge of the bed, startling Henry from his nap beneath the maid's apron.

“I could take you and give you an introduction.”

Ela met Natalia's dark eyes. Her aura, pink and green with spikes of red, remained the same, and yet Ela sensed an intensity beneath the surface. As if all was not that it seemed. “I don't know.”

“Dear girl, I have been married four times. I know how to get what I want.” Her laugh held a bitter edge, and Ela wondered if Natalia hid an inner sadness beneath her painted face.

“I wouldn't harm Os. The earl is his liege.”

“I am a great friend of the countess. I will introduce you to Ida, and trust me, the earl will want to know who you are.” Natalia stood too and lifted her chin proudly. “Confidence is everything. Walk like you own the floor beneath your feet, and others will think that you do.”

Ela followed Natalia down a few hallways and up stairs then down. “I'm lost—again. This castle is a maze.”

“I thought so too, once. Now I know it like I know my own face.” She paused outside a set of double doors. “Keep to my side. We are equals, Ela, and I would introduce you as my friend.”

“For certes, Natalia. I am honored.”

They went inside the room. It was three times the size of the manor hall at home, and Ela winced as each tap of the
heel on her slipper made a noise on the polished stone floor.

At the very opposite end of the room was a large dais, upon which sat a golden couch and four ornate chairs that mimicked a throne without being one.

She was reminded that the earl was a great and powerful man.

Though her knees were shaking with each step, Ela lifted her chin as she saw Natalia do.

After what seemed like hours, they arrived before the dais and the people sitting on the chairs.

Surprised, she saw that Osbert was one of the men chatting, at ease, with the earl. Roger Bigod, sworn servant of the king and High Steward of England.

Her stomach rolled, and she lowered her gaze, but quickly raised it again at Natalia's elbow to her ribs.

“Countess—Ida—my friend! I came as soon as I received your letter.” Natalia waited, and the countess waved her forward.

“You are dearer to me than any other,” the Countess of Norfolk said. Pretty and blond, she was a contrast to Natalia—Lady Steffen. Ela watched as they kissed the air next to one another's cheeks.

These two hold secrets
. The countess's healthy pink aura held a tinge of black. She was afraid of something. What had they been talking about before she and Natalia arrived?

She stole a glance at Osbert. He stared at her, cool. The heat in his slate eyes brought more fear than walking across the floor. He was furious.

“And who is this?” The countess held out her hand and gestured for her to come and sit at the stool at her feet.

Natalia took the seat next to her on the couch and nodded for Ela to do as the countess bid. “She is a friend of mine,” Natalia said. “The Lady Ela Montehue.”

Osbert cleared his throat, and the countess squealed. “We were just talking about you.”

The earl held out his hand. “Any friend of Natalia's is a friend of ours.”

Was she supposed to kiss his hand? Shake it? Clasp it? She exchanged a panicked look with Os, whose anger spiked with amusement at her dilemma. Ela would show him what was funny! She took the earl's hand in hers and gave it a conspiratorial squeeze. “Just as any friend of Osbert's is a friend of mine.”